Hurricane Devastates Village of Basco, Illinois

One of the most destructive hurricanes that has visited the western states for some years, swept over the country adjacent to the quiet little village of Basco, in Bear creek township, Hancock county, Illinois, Thursday evening last. Considerable rain had fallen during the day, accompanied with frequent peals of thunder and lightning flashes; but toward night the sky suddenly darkened down to an almost inky blackness, and about 7 o'clock p.m. a huge storm cloud burst over a farm situated some two miles due west of the C. B. and Q. railroad track.

Immediately the wind rose with a terrific sweep upward and commenced to circle, taking in a swath of over three hundred yards in width.

Directly in its course, one-half mile east of the starting point, stood the house and barn of Jacob Roos. The roof and upper portion of the house were torn off and hurled several rods away, while the barn, in which were stalled three horses and four or five tons of hay, was lifted clear off the foundation, and incredible as it may seem, carried by the whirlwind to a height of not less than two hundred feet in midair. The horse standing in the center stall was, by some strange freak of the raging element, singled out and thrown headlong into a grove, distant over twenty yards from the farm yard, and instantly killed. The other two fell from a less height square upon their backs, but were found alive, and, although severely injured, are likely to recover. The barn itself was torn, board from board, in pieces, and scattered broadcast over the fields, minus the hay, of which no trace has since been discovered. Twenty acres of grain belonging to Mr. Roos were also destroyed; a portion of his household furniture smashed, and, in all, his loss will reach considerably more than $1,000.

The grove mentioned as located in the neighborhood of his place was completely devastated; many of the trees being torn up by the roots and others broken in two, or at the top. Here among the fallen timber were found the remains of several agricultural implements belonging to Mr. Roos, who asserts that he saw them carried aloft and tossed through the air like feather-weights at the commencement of the storm.

Further on the house and barn of H. Steffey were similarly visited, and the stable of Mr. Kenney thrown to the ground. A wagon of Mr. Steffey's was subsequently found some distance off, lying in fragments and rendered utterly useless.

One of the most curious traits of the hurricane was the style in which the iron work of all the agricultural machines destroyed were twisted, bent and broken. Nothing seemed to withstand the fury of the tempest in the slightest degree. Heavy posts sunk two feet and a half in the solid ground were wrested from their places and cast up, whilst post fences many rods in length were displaced and completely overturned.

Varying somewhat from the easterly direction in which it had hitherto kept, the wind next swept over the residence of John Saunderson, lifting it from its position and whirling it high in the air. Mrs. Saunderson, who was in the house with her two children alone at the time, was thrown out and found afterward several hundred yards away from the former site of her home, lying under a pile of rails, with one leg mashed to a jelly, and suffering fearfully from the effects of her wound. One of her children was found dead a short way on, and the other with both legs broken. They were at once removed to the Basco house, but neither Mrs. Saunderson nor the surviving child are expected to recover.

Mr. Saunderson, who had been standing about a hundred yards west of his house when it was carried off, was struck on the head by a flying log and rendered senseless, as was also a neighbor who was standing by him at the moment.

A brick house belonging to Mr. Robert Donaldson was badly wrecked, the roof being torn off and one of the gables stove in.

Further east the house and barn of Mr. Jesse Huff were blown down, and the roof and timbers torn to shreds. Mrs. Huff and children, at the first alarm, took refuge in the cellar, and by doing so, in all probability, saved their lives. [...] A large bridge on the road running north of the village was caught up in the hurricane and sent whirling through the air, free from its fastenings, thus leaving the road impassable to teams. A large barn belonging to Judge Skinner, of Quincy, was blown down, and a dwelling house sitting on the same property was moved five feet from its original position, the plaster on the inside was completely stripped off, and the upper flooring crushed into the form of an angle. We understand that Judge [...]

Sweeping on, the storm next [...] the fence of Mr. John Huff, which [...]

The scene presented by the track of the storm was one of desolation and distress. Mingled with the prostrate [...] weather-board, shingles, [...] furniture, articles of clothing, broken saddles, wheels, harness, and [...] other things which [...] wrecked houses and ruined property, at a single glance.

It is impossible at the present writing to give our readers anything like an adequate idea of the actual losses sustained by the sufferers from this terrible visitation, but at the lowest estimate they must foot up many thousands of dollars.