the town could realize this state of affairs, but before many minutes a column of water rushed along the streets and around the houses, which immediately convinced everyone that saw it of the dreadful truth. Of this body of water marvelous accounts are given. It is said that it rose at the rate of six feet in four minutes and, although it is probable that the terrors of the people exaggerated the swell of the waters, the fact that this extraordinary tale was readily believed will give an idea of the reality. Up to 8 o'clock, p.m., however, it was hoped that all who had not escaped from their houses on Virginius and Overton's islands and on Shenandoah street would be safe, and that the inconvenience of being separated from their friends for a few hours and that of cleaning up for some days after, would be the extent of the damage. Between 8 and 9 o'clock, however, the water had risen to such a height as to cause serious apprehension for the safety of the families so cut off, and the extraordinary rapidity and fury of the river made it impossible for their more fortunate friends to render them the smallest assistance. About this time an excited crowd had gathered at the foot of Union street, watching with intense anxiety for the fate of some families on Overton's island, directly opposite, and about sixty yards distant. Between them and the island rushed an impetuous torrent to attempt to cross which, in a boat, would be madness and the distance was too great to allow a rope of sufficient strength to be thrown to the assistance of the helpless people. The scene was truly terrible. The screams of men, women and children in imminent peril of drowning or being crushed by falling houses, and the sympathetic cries and sobs of the pitying spectators were partially lost in the thunders of the furious tide and the spectral light of a young moon wading through heavy masses of cloud gave a weird coloring to the fearful picture, which added greatly to its horrors. Five families resided on this island. One house, a large brick building, was rented and occupied by Mr. Sidney Murphy. A small frame tenement was occupied by the widow Overton, her daughter, the widow Mills--and a young child of the latter. Samuel Hoff and his wife lived in a third house, James Shipe and his wife in a fourth and Jerry Harris, a very worthy old colored man, with his wife, daughter and two grandchildren, in a fifth. Mr. Murphy and his family, as well as Mrs. Hoff, had fortunately taken alarm at an early hour in the evening and escaped a few minutes before the destruction of the footbridge on which they had passed over. This being light and not firmly secured to the bank on either side, was soon swept away by the rising waters. The other residents, thinking, no doubt, that, as their houses had stood many assaults from the river in former floods, they might venture to remain, unhappily concluded to take chances. About 9 o'clock a crash from a