The climate is perfect, very little labor produces good results, and I think that without going more into detail you will all admit that the Sea Islanders were a happy, contented, very comfortably fixed set of people. So it was at the going down of the sun on the twenty-seventh day of August, 1893. When the sun rose the next morning, hundreds of those cabins had been swept from the earth, with all they contained. Over thirty thousand of those people were homeless, clotheless, foodless, with no resources. Over eight hundred were dead (the figures are from actual census). A hurricane on its way from the Gulf of Mexico to the north had swerved somewhat from the usual course of these storms, its centre, instead of following the Gulf Stream, had come in over the land, and the great uprising of the surface of the sea, which always occurs at the calm centre of these storms, caused by the low atmospheric pressure, as shown by low barometer, had, instead of dissipating itself on the surrounding ocean, inundated our islands to depths varying from one to ten feet according to the height of the land, the average height of the tidal wave, above high water, being about seven feet. Thus the surface of each island was a sea, and driven by the tremendous force of the wind over a hundred miles per hour, as recorded at Charleston, north of us, and at Savannah, south, into death-dealing waves.
The houses, all built on posts two to four feet above ground, came down like card houses. Some collapsed and crushed their inmates on the spot; others went drifting off with men, women and children clinging to them, until falling to pieces they dropped their living freight into eternity. Some escaped by seeking shelter amid the branches of the giant pines and oaks; some were so saved, but others had but found death traps, for yielding to the force of the wind, many were thrashed to death by the whipping branches, or knocked off into the raging sea below. And among the thousands of these trees which were uprooted, or twisted off, were many on whose branches people were clinging. I knew nothing of what was occurring on other islands than the one we were dwelling on, Paris Island, where I am in command of the naval station; for, deprived of every means of communication with the outer world by the destruction of all railroads and steamers that connected with us, telegraph and telephone lines down, and all of my boats either sunk or wrecked, our own affairs had my entire time and attention.
A Work of Rescue.
I have been a sailor for forty-five years, and as such have battled with many tempests, but on my own ship, with plenty of sea room, I have known what to do to increase safety and lessen danger. But in this case I was nearly helpless. Fortunately I alone knew this, for I was now surrounded by those who looked to me for help. I was forced to “keep a stiff upper lip,” but the task was not a slight one. My house is a two-story frame, built on brick piers, about sixty rods from the beach. Between it and the water were six negro cabins and two quite large houses. Shortly after sunset the weaker of them succumbed, but the tide was not yet so high but that my men succeeded in saving from the wrecks the women and children, all of whom were carried first to the largest of the two houses. About 11 p.m. the tide was at its height, and there came driving onto my lawn and under my house great timbers, wrecks of houses, wharves, and boats, and fortunately a large flat boat, called a lighter. Some of the braver of my men captured this boat by plunging in up to their necks and pushed and pulled it to the house where the refugees had gathered, at which the screams told us there was trouble. They got there just in time to rescue about fifty and brought them to my house.
During all this time the rain was falling in torrents and every person was soaked through, and as the wind was from the northeast, the rain was cold, and they were chilled through. An attempt to get up a fire in my kitchen stove disclosed the fact that my woodshed was gone and there was no wood. Some empty packing boxes in the garret were utilized; then a big pot was put on to make coffee. We then found that excepting in a few pitchers there was no fresh water. My cistern had been overflowed by the sea. Fifty men were put to bailing and pumping, and weather boards from my shed and servants’ quarters were quickly extemporized into gutters and pipes—then the rain proved a blessing, and we were saved from water famine. But there were chances of a food famine. My storerooms and those of my only white neighbor, the civil engineer of the station, held all of the food on the island, and there were hundreds to feed. Fortunately it was Sunday. Saturday is our marketing day, and we had a week’s supply under ordinary circumstances, but with such a lot of boarders we had to handle it very sparingly.
The Next Day.
By daylight the storm had modified and the sea subsided. Then came work. First of all my mules and carts were started with search parties for drowned people. Before night there were nine such laid out in my coal shed. To those we gave Christian burial, but to twelve others found during the next forty-eight hours, guided by the buzzards that had begun their feasts, we for sanitary reasons had to treat them as we did the many carcasses of animals, bury them at once where we found them. On the second day I captured a passing sailboat, one of the very few left, and obtained from Port Royal a big load of provisions, with which I started a store, paying the big gang of laborers that I had employed with checks on the store, where food was furnished at cost.
Red Cross to the Rescue.
On the fifth there came to us a great blessing. The Red Cross Association had been appealed to and had responded. Miss Barton, its president with her staff of physicians, nurses and other trained people, came, investigated and took charge of us, and under their systematic, business-like methods, taught them by much experience in many great calamities, are now keeping, and will keep, as long as the good people of the country will furnish the means, starvation away from this miserable mass of humanity.
It may be that in this favored part of the country, where cyclones and earthquakes do not occur, many of your readers know little of this organization. I will tell them a little and close. During our war, in 1863, a congress composed of representatives of the leading nations of Europe met at Geneva, Switzerland, its object being to make such international rules as would tend to lessen the horrors of war and alleviate the suffering. The United States was invited to participate, and Miss Clara Barton, a woman even then well known for her career of charitable deeds, and for her abilities, was afterward selected to bring in the United States to the treaty. Miss Barton secured for the United States the privilege of adding to its war relief that of sufferings from storms, earthquakes, floods and other calamities due to natural causes. This addition is known as the American amendment. An American branch was formed, of which Miss Barton was elected president. She has a large and able corps of experienced assistants scattered throughout the Union, ready to respond at once to her call and hurry to place their services, free of cost, at her disposal. This corps of helpers take nothing for granted; they investigate for themselves and learn accurately just who need help, and how much, and what kind. Books are kept, and every penny or penny’s worth accounted for. The Red Cross does not, as a body, give charity—it dispenses intelligently that of others. The body is your and my agent to see that what we choose to give shall be honestly and intelligently put where it will do the most good. Its members, from principle, do not beg. It is their business to present facts to the public and let every man, woman and child act on his or her unbiased judgment. She has done me the honor to accept my service as an amateur. I am not quite so strictly bound by the rules as are the members, therefore if anyone detects a little tendency to beg in this article it is my fault, not that of the Red Cross.