The Charlotte Journal

The following is an extract of a letter from the Principal of the Manual Labor School attached to the Furman Institute, in Fairfield district, S. C. to the Editor of the Charleston Courier, giving a more particular account of the calamity that befell that infant institution, on the 1st instant. It is awful to state that a young man was consumed in the building. How the fire originated is not ascertained. We had gone out into the field to work, as usual, being the first business of the day, and immediately after morning prayers; and we had been out about half an hour, when we heard an alarm from the house. On looking around, we perceived a dense smoke ascending from the eastern wing of the building, the boards blackening with the heat of the confined flames, although no fire was as yet visible externally to those in the field. We hastened to the building, but although the distance did not exceed 200 yards, every part of the edifice was in flames when we reached it. It would have been impossible to save any part of the building, had we been possessed of all the apparatus of engines, &c. for extinguishing fires, and an abundant supply of water, whereas we were destitute of both, our nearest spring being a quarter of a mile off. As it was, the flames spread so rapidly, and the fire raged so furiously, that very little of furniture, bedding, or clothing, except what each individual had on at the time, was saved. Five or six of the students' trunks were preserved. A chair or two of mine, two or three books, most of our bedding, and two carpets which happened to have remained unpacked in a room distant from the fire, were rescued by one or two servants and workmen that were in and about the building when the fire commenced. Every thing else was consumed. We have not even a change of clothes left, and not a single one of all my books, of any consequence, was saved.

But by far the most distressing part of the calamity, compared with which all else is light, is that one of the students was burned to death.--His name was Francis Iddard, an amiable youth, about 18 years of age, the son of a worthy widow of Georgetown. He did not go out to work, nor did his brother leave him in the room, but they saw him going out into the woods as they went off to the field, which was the last they did see of him. He was not missed until the building was almost entirely consumed. His eldest brother not meeting with him, then became alarmed, and the most anxious search and inquiries were made for him in every direction. One or two said they had seen him, but he was nowhere to be found. It was at first hoped, that as he was subject to nervous terror upon an alarm of fire, he might have run off in a transport of fear, and had not yet so far recovered from his bewildered feelings as to return. And this opinion received a strong confirmation, when on raking the coals and embers of his room, as thoroughly as the heat and circumstances would allow, no sign of his remains was found. But alas! on a subsequent search, when the more completely extinguished fires permitted a minute examination, his body was found under a pile of bricks, one black and shapeless mass; the legs entirely consumed as well as the head, the bricks proving a protection to the rest of his body. The conjecture is, that perceiving the house on fire, he may have rushed in to save part of the furniture or clothing, and was surrounded by the rapidly spreading flames, or suffocated by the smoke, perhaps overcome by an agony of terror. Thus the poor little fellow is gone from this world. May the God of love and mercy pour the oil of consolation into the heart of the already widowed and now bereaved mother.

How the fire originated, it is not possible to ascertain. In a building tenanted by so large a number of persons at so thoughtless a period of life, accidents might well happen to originate such a calamity. It is most probably the result of accident, and the author of it is very likely as unconscious of it as any one else. You may judge of the rapidity of the flames, when I mention, that happening to look at my watch just an instant before the alarm was given, I found the time to be exactly 6 o'clock: and at 7, when I wrote you the few lines in pencil, all was a smoking heap of coals and embers. The building was 120 feet, by from 40 to 50; being narrower in the wings than in the centre.

I do not know what course we shall pursue, but will at all events wait until the meeting of the Board of Trustees. I shall in the mean time remain in the vicinity, and the students, generally, will reside with the families in the neighborhood (who have very kindly invited them to stay with them) until they can communicate with their friends, who will probably be governed in the steps they may resolve to take, by the course which the Trustees may determine upon, and the resolutions they may adopt for carrying on the school, at their meeting, which is to take place on the 13th instant.