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TWO GREAT BLIZZARDS.

The Terrible Storms of 1888 and 1899 Interestingly Compared.
From the New York Journal.

The blizzard of 1888 is no longer an event from which to date reminiscences.

It has been surpassed by the blizzard of 1899.

Not as much snow fell in the last twenty-four hours as on that memorable 12th of March, but the winds were higher and the thermometer indicated a greater degree of cold.
Altogether yesterday was a wilder, blowier, colder, more wretched day than that day eleven years ago, when New York was prostrate in the grip of the blizzard.
That the paralysis consequent on great storms in big cities is not so complete as it was in 1888 is due to the progress of the age.
If New York were still a horse-car city there would be just as much trouble now as there was then.
The crippling of the snow king's power was not by design.
It came about gradually, incidental to improvements made without thought of blizzards.

The establishment of cable lines and trolley lines made it possible to run cars at greater speed and more frequent intervals; the improvement in motors brought locomotive snow plows and sweepers that keep the cable tracks clear, and thus make way not only for the cable cars, but for the few surviving horse cars and other vehicles as well.

On the morning of the 12th of March, 1888, Broadway was an unfurrowed lane of snow.
The cars were stopped; even snow plows drawn by eight and ten horses could not force their way through.
Cabs and other vehicles were unable to cross the great drifts, and downtown was effectually cut off from the residence district.
The elevated trains were blocked after fighting a desperate battle for hours.
Three locomotives were put on a single train, but even then the train could only crawl in imminent and continual danger of being derailed by the packed ice.
One train that did get through was over four hours in traveling from 125th street to the city hall.
Trains were stalled between stations, and the fire department took the passengers to the street by means of ladders.

This condition may be paralleled today.
It was due to the tremendous amount of snow that fell in a single day.
On March 12, 1888, 16 1/2 inches of snow fell in New York city, 3 inches more than have fallen during the present blizzard since its beginning four days ago.
But on March 13 and March 14 of 1888 the total snowfall was only a little over 5 inches.
That blizzard was over in three days.
This one has already been under way for four days, and the end is not yet in sight.

Already the trains of Long Island and Kings County roads have been stopped or the service crippled, and it will not take much more snow to bring the Manhattan system to a standstill.

The streets do not look as desperate now as they did then, because of the lanes of the cable tracks and the absence of the tangles of telegraph wires that broke down under the load of snow.

The advance of the city has put the wires under ground.

That fewer people have died in the snow is another indirect result of this same progress.

On the morning of March 13, 1888, George D. Baremore, a hop merchant, living at the corner of 59th street and 7th avenue, was found dead in the drift.
In the absence of elevated trains or horse cars he tried to walk home from his place of business on Water street.
He staggered against the storm until he reached 49th street, when he fell and could not rise.

There were many people who escaped death by being rescued by the police.

The most conspicuous victim of the blizzard of 1888 was Roscoe Conkling, who was overcome in crossing Madison Square.
He was on his way to his club from his office.
He was found by a policeman before he had frozen to death, but the exposure brought on the disease that killed him

Though the victims of the present storm have not been of as much prominence, they are not lacking in the parallel.
Already several have been found dead in the snow and the tale is not yet told.

The story of eleven years ago is being repeated with eerie accuracy.
One by one the telegraph wires are being reported as broken.
It is not probable that the complete cessation of telegraphic communication that prevailed for a brief period on March 13, 1888, will come again, as the class of wires now in general use by all companies are strong enough to withstand a great deal more than the wires in use eleven years ago, but it is not a certainty that they will bear up if the storm continues.

The New York, New Haven and Hartford trains, the New York Central and the Harlem railroad were all choked by snow drifts, and the Long Island and New Jersey suburban trains were completely stalled in 1888.

These are the very railroads that are suffering now, though the up-state roads have been able to continue some sort of service by reason of the elaborate snow-fighting apparatus which they did not have when the other blizzard came down upon them.
In addition to these the Baltimore and Ohio, the Erie, the Lehigh Valley and the West Shore are said to be in worse shape than they were in 1888.

The trouble with the ferry boats was not worse in 1888 than it was yesterday.
Then the boats that cross the East river landed passengers when and where they could.

The floating ice choked the river and for a time stopped all traffic, while a bridge formed from shore to shore, over which people walked.
So far this time the East river has kept indifferently clear, but the Staten Island boats and those to Jersey are having fully as bad a time as they had in the record year.

Even in the incidental happenings the parallel holds.

In the midst of the freezing and the blowing of that other blizzard a huge fir broke out, and firemen were injured trying to extinguish it.
It was worse then than now, for the wires that now run safely underground were down.
Fire after fire started by reason of people overheadting their homes, until the department was utterly exhausted.

It was exactly the same condition that followed the big fire of day before yesterday, when Nilsson Hall burned and eight firemen were hurt in the collapse of the roof.

Steamers were caught by the ice floe, and, dragging their anchors, were carried by the ice floe through the Narrows and back again, just as the Santiago, the Allianca and Scottish Prince were on Sunday.

The workable area of coal beds in Colorado is 18,100 square miles.

{Washington Star Feby 14th 1899}