F 279 
 .C4 M3 
 Copy 1 
 
 THE AUGUST CYCLOIE. 
 
 A DESCRIPTIVE NARRATIVE OF THE 
 MEMORABLE STORM OF 
 
 1885. 
 
 Some Mention of the Destruction of Property 
 
 IN AND AROUND CHARLESTON— ThE CHARACTER 
 
 OF THE Disturbance Explained, and its Pro- 
 gress Traced from its Origin in the 
 West Indies to its Disappearance in 
 THE North Atlantic Ocean, 
 
 By carl Mckinley, eso. 
 
 TOGETHER WITH 
 
 A Brief Account of the Tornado of 176 1. 
 
THE AUGUST CYCLONE. 
 
 A DESCRIPTIVE NARRATIVE OP THE 
 MEMORABLE STORM OP 
 
 1885. 
 
 Some AIention of the Destruction of Property 
 
 IN AND around CHARLESTON ThE CHARACTER 
 
 OF THE Disturbance Explained, and its Pro- 
 gress Traced from its Origin in the 
 West Indies to its Disappearance in 
 the North Atlantic Ocean, 
 
 By carl McKINLEY, Es^. 
 
 TOGETHER WITH 
 
 A Brief Account of the Tornado of 1761, 
 
 i^^RAR ,• Q^ 
 
 
 [RE-PRINTED FROM THE CITY YEAR BOOK, 1885.] ^ Q '"'• W^ 
 
 CHARLESTON, S. C. 
 
 THE NEWS AND COURIBK BOOK PRESSES. 
 1886. 
 

THE AUGUST CYCLONE-1885, 
 
 The most notable event of the year 1885, i" Charleston, 
 and one which will form the subject of interesting reminis- 
 cence and comparison for years to come, was the disastrous 
 storm which, originating in the West Indies and reaching the 
 Carolina coast on the morning of August 25th, seemed to 
 attack Charleston with especial fury, and threatened for a 
 time to overwhelm the entire city in its own ruins. The 
 damage inflicted by the winds and waves upon property in 
 and around the city was indeed so great and so widely dis- 
 tributed as to preclude giving even a bare list of the more 
 serious losses within the limits of this chapter. A detailed 
 statement of such losses, together with many other interest- 
 ing particulars of the storm, was published in The News 
 AND Courier on the days immediately following the storm, 
 and constitute a record of permanent interest. The present 
 narrative will be confined to a description of the storm as it 
 appeared to eye witnesses, to such account of its ravages as 
 will serve, in some degree, to illustrate its destructive force ;• 
 and to recording the phenomena attendant upon its de- 
 velopment. The course of the disturbance is also carefully 
 traced upon a line coextensive with that of the Atlantic 
 coast of the United States. 
 
 To the eye of the casual observer at Charleston there was 
 nothing unusual in the appearance of the weather at any 
 time before midnight of Monday, August 24th, to indicate 
 the approach of a storm of any kind. The "indications" 
 sent out by the Signal Service Office at Washington, 
 dated i o'clock A. M. of the 24th, were : " For the South 
 Atlantic States, local rains, variable winds, nearly station- 
 ary temperature." From 7 A. M. until 7 P. M., according 
 to the Signal Service record, the direction of the wind at 
 Charleston was from the East. At 10 P. M. it was from 
 
the Southeast, and held in that quarter until after 7 A. M. on 
 the 25th. The barometer, reduced to sea-level, ranged on 
 Monday from 29.968 at 7 A. M. to 29.834 at 1 1 P. M. At 2.20 
 P. M. the following dispatch from the Signal Service Office at 
 Washington was received by Sergeant James H. Smith, 
 the Observer at Charleston : 
 
 "Up signals; fresh and strong East to North winds." 
 
 Cautionary signals were accordingly hoisted about 2.30 
 P. M. 
 
 This dispatch, as will be seen later, had reference to in- 
 dications observed along the Florida sea coast, and foretold 
 the character of the wind that might be expected within a 
 few hours at Charleston, thus warranting the display of 
 cautionary signals, and giving the first notice of the 
 approach of the dread visitor whose true character was 
 so little suspected, and the announcement of whose 
 coming was scarcely noticed. It is worthy of remark at 
 this point, however, that the pilots who came into the har- 
 bor late in the afternoon reported having encountered an 
 unusually heavy sea outside the bar, which sign long ex- 
 perience had taught them to regard as the precursor of 
 " dirty weather," as they expressed it. The interesting 
 feature of this occurrence is, of course, that the waves caused 
 by the storm then raging at sea below the Southeastern 
 horizon had so far outrun the winds as to reach Charleston 
 many hours in advance of the storm itself. 
 
 During the 24th cumulus and cirro-cumulus clouds pre- 
 vailed. About 4 P. M. to 7 P. M. the sky was covered with 
 cirrus and stratus clouds moving rapidly from the East, fol- 
 lowed at midnight by a light scud fllying from the Southeast. 
 After midnight their character changed again to cirro-cumu- 
 lus, which gave place, in turn, to a heavy mass of cumulo 
 stratus, immediately preceding the storm and accompanied 
 by lightning. Through the rifts of the storm clouds during 
 the night cirro-stratus were observed, floating high above 
 and moving independently of the former, as regards both 
 speed and direiction. 
 
 There was nothing alarming in the appearance of the 
 
clouds, nor in the force of the wind that guided their course, 
 until some time after midnight. Whether it was the result 
 of former association or of subsequent experience, however, 
 it was afterwards recalled to mind by more than one late 
 watcher that there was a peculiar something, "a feeling in 
 the air," a subdued menace in the first whisperings of the 
 wind that faintly challenged attention and hinted vaguely 
 of coming ill, even while it failed to make the warning un- 
 derstood by unskilled and unsuspecting minds. The import 
 of these hints, if hints they were, began to be expressed in 
 plainer terms an hour or two later; when old residents of 
 Charleston, who were aroused from sleep by the force of 
 the blasts that occasionally broke forth upon the city, recog- 
 nized in the soughing of the winds the indescribable but char- 
 acteristic sound which always heralds the coming of a gale. 
 
 The wind did not attain a velocity of twenty-five miles 
 an hour until 1.30 A. M. on Tuesday, at v;hich time the 
 storm is officially regarded as having commenced in 
 earnest. From that hour until about 4 A. M. it decreased 
 in violence, or rose and fell fitfully, subsiding for a space 
 between 2.30 and 3.30 to seventeen miles an hour. By 
 4.30 A. M. it had again increased to thirty-five miles an 
 hour, and from that time until about 9 A. M. continually 
 developed force by degrees which were marked by the tell- 
 tale signs and sounds that filled the air on every side. 
 
 Looking out into the gloom during the closing hours of 
 the night and the early hours of the morning, the eye 
 encountered a scene never to be forgotten, and which 
 the beholder would scarcely care to see twice. The 
 powers of the air seemed to have been loosed for a carnival 
 of havoc, and earth and heaven, the winds and the waters, 
 warred together in a fury of blind rage. Dense clouds now 
 obscured the sky, and swept along scarcely missing the 
 house tops, pouring forth sheets of blinding, driving rain, 
 which were themselves caught up as they fell, torn into 
 shreds of spray, and scattered hither and thither like wildly 
 eddying snow drifts. The trees which lined the streets and 
 filled the yards and gardens of the city were in full leaf, 
 
6 
 
 and swaying heavily and incessantly to and fro, their 
 boughs rising and falling and wildly lashing each other, 
 formed a conspicuous feature in the troubled landscape. 
 The leaves were never still, and it required but little stretch 
 of fancy to regard them as shuddering with terror and 
 seeking to tear themselves from their frail stems and fly 
 away, when a blast of unusual force would swoop down 
 upon them like a bird of prey upon a flock of trembling 
 doves. At dawn the streets were already thickly strewn 
 with boughs which had been broken and hurled to the 
 ground, where they lay interspersed with the quantities of 
 loose leaves, signs, slates and tiles, which had first yielded 
 to the force of the gale. The wind by this time had at- 
 tained, at intervals, a velocity of over forty miles an hour. 
 The few ice and milk vendors, and other persons whom busi- 
 ness or curiosity led abroad at so early an hour, found no 
 little difficulty in picking their way and avoiding the mis- 
 siles which occasionally fell around them. 
 
 About 7 A. M. the wind increased to over fifty miles 
 an hour, and rapidly augmented in force during the suc- 
 ceeding two hours. The work of destruction increased in 
 proportion. The air was soon filled with flying missiles. 
 Tiles and slates were torn by thousands from the house- 
 tops, and hurled to long distances, skimming along, as 
 was said by an observer, like flights of terrified swal- 
 lows. Loose bricks and fragments of mortar from chim- 
 neys and copings were wrenched from their places and 
 showered down into the yards and streets, or crashed upon 
 the house tops with thunderous sound. The tin roofs were 
 marked for general destruction. Forced from their fas- 
 tenings at an early stage of the storm, many of these 
 coverings were ripped up by swift degrees, rolled or crum- 
 pled together, and blown away like so much paper. When 
 held down by an edge or corner, the effect of the wind in their 
 folds, as the great sheets flapped and pounded about on the 
 hollow roofs, was alarming indeed. After the storm great 
 rolls of this material lay scattered about the city, looking 
 not unlike carcases of some strange monsters of the deep 
 
that had been washed into the city by the waves, and strand- 
 ed and left to die. 
 
 The roar of the tempest cannot be described. Vast and 
 unceasing as that of a mighty cataract, it conveyed to the 
 ear a sense of the majesty and overwhehning power of the 
 element whose voice it was which was scarcely heightened by 
 the visible tokens of that power so abundantly displayed in 
 every direction. Even the thunder that followed the occa- 
 sional lightning's flash scarcely deepened its volume, and 
 rolling away into darkness and distance, was swallowed 
 up in the one unending and angry roar, as waves of sound 
 upon a sea of sound. 
 
 The audible but invisible torrent poured over and across 
 land and sea, filling the vault of heaven like a flood that 
 had broken its bounds in upper air and was impelled to 
 earth by the pressure of a greater flood behind. And, as if 
 to add another element of terror to the tumult, there 
 was heard for hours the constantly repeated, heavy boom- 
 ing of the alarm bells of the city, striking at short in- 
 tervals as their sensitive machinery responded to the 
 fitful currents of the electric wires by which they were con- 
 trolled. The cause of these continuous alarms was not 
 generally understood, and they added greatly to the dis- 
 tress of many of the citizens, who could not divine their 
 meaning and whose imagination suggested countless forms 
 of calamity. 
 
 With every perceptible increase in the force of the wind, 
 the anxious watcher felt that his house must go down 
 before it, and many a devout heart spent the night in 
 alternate thanksgiving for danger passed and prayer for 
 deliverance from that which momentarily threatened. Many 
 were they who had watched for the morning, in the 
 hope that light would bring an end to the trying ordeal of 
 the night. This hope was doomed to bitter disappointment. 
 Tearful eyes looked forth from shattered and leaking win- 
 dows after dawn to see no token of diminishing fury in the 
 winds, or in the clouds wildly rushing overhead. 
 
 After eight o'clock the gale apparently redoubled its force, 
 
and the occurrences of the night were multiplied and inten- 
 sified in character. Trees that were already stripped of 
 their leaves and dismembered of their limbs, broke under the 
 increasing strain ; or, torn from their deeply anchored roots, 
 crashed heavily to the ground. Fences were prostrated like 
 cardboards; shutters and signs were brushed from their 
 hiriges ; windows and doors were burst in, and the rain 
 streaming through gaping roofs made miniature cascades 
 down the walls and stairways. At 7.30 A. M., it is stated 
 by one careful observer, comparatively slight damage had 
 been caused along the Eastern water front, which of course 
 was most exposed to the force of the waves. None of the 
 wharf sheds had been blown down, although the tin roofing 
 had been ripped from several. All the vessels moored along 
 the river front were riding freely and in apparent safety, 
 save one or two yachts which had not been secured, and 
 were wrecked in consequence. At 8.45 the same observer 
 revisited the scene, to find that but a single shed was stand- 
 ing intact, and that the structures along the entire river 
 front were demolished. "Everything lay in ruins; pier 
 h^ds, sheds, vessels, offices, and docks, presented one mass 
 of indescribable confusion." 
 
 The scene in the harbor at this time, as viewed from the 
 Battery, has been described as one of "awful grandeur." 
 The gale was blowing from the ocean directly into the 
 mouth of the harbor, and the force of the wind, acting with 
 the flood tide, impelled the waters before it with inconceiv- 
 able force. Looking seaward, the whole surface of the har- 
 bor appeared as a sheet of boiling, rushing foam, heaving 
 with the swell of the great billows beneath, or torn in flakes 
 from their mounting crests and driving landward like flying 
 sails. 
 
 At the height of the tempest the Norwegian bark Medbor, 
 having slipped her anchor at the Quarantine Station, drove 
 into the harbor "like a chip on the surface of a whirlpool," 
 and whirling round and round at the wind's will as she came, 
 was stripped of her rigging and wrecked within a stone's 
 throw of the shore, the crew being rescued with great diffi- 
 culty. 
 
9 
 
 The great waves, rolling inward without resistance, struck 
 the sea wall of the Battery in swift succession, with a deaf- 
 ening roar, and, bursting into "huge water-spouts," were 
 hurled against the fronts of the residences along the street, 
 smashing in windows and doors, levelling fences, and inun- 
 dating the lawns and gardens. Large flagstones from the 
 promenade along East Battery were broken up and washed 
 across the st^reet. Not more than two or three houses on 
 either thoroughfare esca[)ed ; mt)st of them were unroofed 
 in whole or in part. The bathing house near the foot of 
 King Street was swept away and completely wrecked. 
 One of the notable features of the storm in this quarter 
 was the extraordinary rapidity with which the water 
 rose, the incoming sea being likened by one observer to 
 the rush of a tidal wave. 
 
 At high tide, half-past seven o'clock, the sea was on a level 
 with the top of the Battery wall, while the water on the in- 
 side was a few inches from the top. The ground floors of 
 the houses were from three to six feet under water, which 
 was rushing through Water Street with the speed of a mill- 
 race. White Point Garden was of course wholly submerged, 
 and boats could have been rowed from place to place any- 
 where along South Battery. All the streets around the 
 water front of the city were covered to varying depths. 
 
 In the city, meanwhile, the work of destruction had pro- 
 ceeded apace. About seven o'clock the tall spire of the 
 Citadel Square Baptist Church was overturned, and falling 
 upon the three and a half-story residence of Mr. Thomas D. 
 Dotterer, at the corner of Meeting and Henrietta Streets-, cut 
 off the piazzas and front wall of the three upper stories, leav- 
 ing their interior wholly exposed to view from the street. A 
 little later, about 8.30, perhaps, the gilt ball and weather- 
 vane of St. Michael's Church, which had adorned the steeple 
 and withstood the storms of one hundred and twenty years, 
 at an elevation of one hundred and seventy feet, fell heavily 
 to the sidewalk on Broad Street. The roof of the Church 
 was almost stripped of its heavy slates during the storm, to 
 the imminent peril of the passers-by. The spire of the Ger- 
 2 
 
10 
 
 man Lutheran Church, on the West side of Marion Square, 
 was ctrained several feet from the perpendicular, its heavy 
 iron summit being broken off and left pendant. Scarcely a 
 house in the whole city escaped damage to an extent, meas- 
 ured by cost, ranging from a few dollars to thousands. 
 Many columns of THE News and Courier were filled for 
 days after the storm with mere mention of the buildings 
 that were injured. 
 
 About nine o'clock there was an unexpected and gladly 
 welcomed respite. The wind, which had been blowing from 
 the East during the height of the storm, for an hour or two 
 previously, suddenly subsided almost to a calm. The rain 
 ceased, and children went forth to play, and to wonder at 
 the wreck around them. Groups of men gathered on the 
 street corners to talk over the experiences of the night, and 
 to recount the losses they had suffered. Families, friends 
 and neighbors exchanged messages of anxious inquiry or 
 congratulation. Housewives set about preparing the de- 
 layed morning meal from the stock on hand, in the enforced 
 absence of hucksters and bakers and milkmen, who were pre- 
 vented from making their usual rounds. 
 
 The deceitful respite was of short duration, however, and 
 ended almost as abruptly as it began. The period of calm 
 lasted forty minutes. Almost at a breath, the tempest 
 swooped down from a new quarter, the West, rapidly veering 
 to the Northwest, with less force than before the calm, 
 indeed, but with enough to affect great damage along the 
 Ashley River. Roofs, trees, fences, wharves and ships 
 that had withstood the force of the storm before, owing 
 to favored positions, yielded to the attack from a new 
 direction, and wreck was piled on wreck, ruin heaped on 
 ruin. 
 
 Two sloops were lifted up by the high tide and deposited 
 across Chisolm's Causeway, effectually barring the passage 
 of wagons after the waters receded. The iron steamship 
 Glenlivet was torn from her moorings and driven up the 
 Ashley River, where it came into collision v/ith the new 
 bridge, then approaching completion, and swept away 
 
11 
 
 several hundred feet of the trestle approach on the Charles- 
 ton side. The complete destruction of the entire water 
 front is best indicated by the statement of the fact that 
 when the steamer Delaware, Capt. Winnett, came into port, 
 late in the afternoon after the storm, it was found that 
 there was but one wharf which she could approach, and 
 that escaped total destruction because one of its piers was 
 built of granite. 
 
 When the gale finally subsided, a little after noon, and 
 the clearing sky gave token that the calamitous visitor was 
 really gone, it was evident that the work of destruction 
 had been indeed widespread and severe. The streets were 
 now so obstructed by fallen trees and fences that vehicles 
 could not pass, and pedestrians could, hardly pick their 
 way along. The lower levels were flooded, the drain 
 pits being choked with debris, and the water ran knee- 
 deep in many places or stood in muddy pools. The intri- 
 cate web of electric wires that had stretched from pole to 
 pole in every direction, were tangled in hopeless confusion 
 overhead or under foot. The surface of the ground every- 
 where was carpeted with battered green leaves, while the 
 trees that remained standing showed strangely bare against 
 the summer sky. Broken signs, shutters and sheets of tin 
 from the roofs hung from the sides and tops of houses and 
 stores. Looking from holes in the roof of a dwelling, onesaw 
 the heads of curious neighbors, alike intent on observation, 
 protruding from the roofs all around him. 
 
 Perhaps, however, the best idea of the extent of the 
 wreckage in the city can be obtained from the bare state- 
 ment that during the week following the storm over [o,ooo 
 cartloads of vegetable debris alone were hauled from the 
 streets, besides the vast quantities that were washed away 
 by the tremendous rainfall that accompanied the storm, and 
 that followed it a day or two later. The total visible 
 damage inflicted upon the city was estimated at $2,000,000, 
 and this amount did not include the damage inflicted upon 
 furniture, &c., of which no estimate could be made. 
 
 The shipping in the harbor suffered heavily, as did the 
 
12 
 
 railroads leading out of the city. The details of loss 
 cannot be given here. 
 
 At Sullivan's Island, owing to its exposed situation, the 
 full force of the wind and waves was of course experienced. 
 The damage was very great ; the whole island was under 
 water, and many residents were driven into the upper stories 
 of their homes. The waves undermined and destroyed 
 many houses, while others were lifted bodily and removed 
 to a considerable distance. The people on the island 
 being cut ofT from the mainland, and having despaired of 
 life itself for hours, reckoned the loss of property as of little 
 consequence. 
 
 it should be noted here that the water which was so 
 suddenly swept into the harbor after daylight, was as 
 suddenly carried out to sea again by the change in the 
 direction of the wind that took place about two hours 
 after the time of high water. This timely change probably 
 saved Moultrieville on Sullivan's Island from total destruc- 
 tion, and prevented the loss of many lives. 
 
 At Mount Pleasant the damage was also great ; while the 
 farms on the islands around the city suffered heavily by the 
 destruction of houses, and crops of all kinds. 
 
 The occurrence of the interval of calm in the midst of the 
 storm, together with the reversal of the direction of the 
 wind immediately following it, first suggested the rotary 
 character of the gale, and this beingafterwards clearly estab- 
 lished placed it in the category of cyclones. As there is 
 still some misapprehension in regard to the true character 
 of the storm, however, it is necessary to define it clear!)', 
 in order to distinguish it from the tornado or whirlwind 
 which so frequently visits the interior portions of the 
 United States. 
 
 The diameter of the tornado is seldom more than a few 
 hundred yards; and, perliaps, never so much as a mile. 
 The great circle of the cyclone, on the other hand, is from 
 one hundred to five hundred miles in diameter, and some- 
 times one thousand miles. Tornadoes develop inland, but 
 often p.iss out to sea before exhausting themselves. The 
 
13 
 
 cyclones are ocean storms, formed upon its bosom and 
 rushing landward. Originating under the tropics, those 
 which form Nortli of the equator move into the Atlantic 
 Ocean on a long parabola which sweeps in against the South 
 Atlantic coast and then out to sea again. Those which 
 originate South of the equator take a precisely opposite 
 course, bending in towards the coast of South America and 
 off into the South Atlantic. 
 
 No cyclone has ever been known to cross the equator. 
 The circular motion of the winds in the Northern bound 
 cyclone is invariably, like the motion of the wind in the 
 tornado of the same latitude, from right to left, or a'^'-ainst 
 the hands of a watch placed in a horizontal position. South 
 of the equator the motion is from left to right, or in the 
 same direction as that of the hands of a watch. 
 
 The cyclone in this latitude may, therefore, be generally 
 described as a broad belt of wind moving at a hio-h rate of 
 speed around a great circle of man^^ miles diameter, and 
 having, as was shown at Charleston, an -Extended area of 
 calm at the centre. During the passage of the cyclone 
 the baroineter oscillates in a remarkable manner, rising and 
 falling rapidly, so that a great barometric oscillation nearly 
 always announces the approach of a tempest. The most 
 rapid fall begins from three to six hours before the passage 
 of the centre. The barometer is lowest near the middle of 
 the storm area, and begins to rise before the strength of the 
 cyclone is expended. The rise of the barometer after the 
 storm is usually as rapid as was its fall on the approach of 
 the storm. 
 
 Keeping in view this sketch of the salient features of a 
 cyclone, the character of the storm of August 25th plainly 
 appears, and its course may be traced in conformity with the 
 observations already made, and with the record followino-, 
 which is derived from official sources. 
 
 Following the law above stated, the cyclone under con- 
 sideration formed at sea, some distance to the Southeast of 
 Florida, and gradually moved Northward and inward toward 
 the Florida coast, its approach being first indicated to the 
 
14 
 
 Signal Service Bureau at Washington by the report of the 
 Observer at Jacksonville, at 7 o'clock on the morning of the 
 24th, that the barometer had suddenly shown the abnormal 
 fall of .15 during the night; a light rain and fresh North- 
 easterly wind of sixteen miles an hour being reported 
 at the same place. The wind at Key West, Florida, at 
 the same time, was light Northerly, and at Savannah, 
 Georgia, light Northeasterly. Fearing from these indi- 
 cations that a disturbance might be coming on upon, the 
 coast, the Signal Service Officer at Washington called for 
 special midday reports from several of the stations on the 
 South Atlantic coast, upon the receipt of which reports 
 cautionary storm signals were ordered to be displayed early 
 in the afternoon ; the order reaching Charleston at 2.20 P. M., 
 as stated at the outset of this article. Before the receipt of 
 the order at Jacksonville, however, the storm itself had 
 already reached that point. The afternoon reports of the 
 Signal Service plainly showed the centre of the cyclone to 
 be Northeast of Jacksonville and South of Savannah; a 
 brisk Northeast wind of nineteen miles blowing at Savan- 
 nah, while a gale of from twenty-eight to forty miles an 
 hour from the West swept over Jacksonville from i to 6 P. 
 M., after which latter hour it gradually moderated. The 
 Signal Service Of^ce regards the conditions prevailing over 
 the United States at this time as presenting some of the 
 most remarkable features ever witnessed, the situation 
 being summarized as follows: 
 
 "A West India cyclone was raging on the Georgia coast 
 with the barometer .30 below the normal; winds increasing 
 in force and light rains. A long narrow trough, in which 
 the barometer was .20 to .30 below the normal, extended 
 from Northeastern Texas to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. 
 Within this trough were several small depressions bounded 
 by the isobar for 29.70; the barometer was lowest over the 
 Gulf of St. Lawrence, with the isobar for 29.50 bounding 
 the storm centre ; heavy rains and severe thunder storms 
 marked this trough. The barometer was highest and still 
 rising in Dakota and Manitoba. The temperature was 
 slightly below the normal on the Georgia and South Caro- 
 
15 
 
 lina coast, and was from 5° to 12° above the normal in the 
 Southern part of New Enghxnd, in the Middle Atlantic and 
 East Gulf States, the Ohio Valley and Tennessee, and in 
 North Carolina. Then again, to the^orth of this region, 
 the temperature was from 10° to 20° below the normal." 
 
 At midnight of the 24th the centre of the storm had 
 moved slightly Northward, and was near Savannah, where 
 it may be said to have fairly entered the coast line. Its 
 progress from that hour may Ipe clearly outlined. 
 
 At Savannah the wind had increased in force to thirty 
 miles at midnight of the 24th. At 4.30 A. M. of the 25th 
 it was blowing fifty-six miles an hour from the Northwest. 
 At Tybee the velocity of the wind was estimated at seventy- 
 five miles. 
 
 At Beaufort, S. C, the storm lasted from about midnight 
 of the 24th until 9 A. M. of the 25th, the wind blowing first 
 from the Northeast, but changing about 6 A. M. to the 
 Northwest, after which hour it raged with greatest fury. 
 Most of the vessels in the harbor were driven ashore and 
 damaged ; the town was but little injured. The pro- 
 gress of the storm up the coa ;t was marked by great 
 destruction. All the low lands were flooded ; the roads 
 were rendered impassable ; bridges were swept away ; whole 
 forests were levelled, it is said, and great loss was inflicted 
 upon all standing crops, the damage to sea island cotton being 
 estimated at fully three-fourths of the crop. The islands 
 and mainland suffered alike, and in proportion to exposure 
 to the force of the wind and tides. A number of lives were 
 lost on the Carolina coast, twenty-one having been reported. 
 
 The centre of the storm was near Charleston at 7 A. M. 
 of the 25th, and its passage was marked by the occurrences 
 already described. 
 
 Georgetown first began to feel the force of the wind in 
 earnest at 11 o'clock on the 25th, from the Southeast, the 
 gale reaching its height, as reported, at about i P. M. The 
 barometer at that hour marked 29.1, having fallen .3 of an inch 
 in half an hour. The wind veered to the West at about 1.30 
 P. M., and the storm continued to be felt until 11 P. M. 
 The force of the wind at this place was shown by lifting a 
 
16 
 
 man bodily from the j^round and carrying him a distance of 
 fifty yards, finally dropping him uninjured. Much damage 
 was suffered by the town. 
 
 At 3 P. M. on the -festh, the wind at Smithville, N. C, 
 was fifty-five miles an hour from the Southeast, indicating 
 the fact that the storm centre had followed a line to the 
 West of that place. At 5.15 P. M., when the anemometer 
 was blown away, it recorded the terrific velocity of ninety- 
 eight miles an hour, as reported by the Signal Service Ob- 
 server. Between 5.15 and 5.45 P. M., it is estimated 
 by the same authority to have reached 125 miles an hour. 
 
 At midnight of the 25th, the centre of the storm was 
 North Northwest of Wilmington, and West of Hatteras. 
 The force of the gale evidently missed Wilmington, as is 
 shown by the fact that the maximum velocity of the wind 
 at that place was officially reported dt fifty-two miles an 
 hour. It is also noteworthy that the greatest force of the 
 wind was from tlie South, plainly indicating that the city was 
 then in the extreme right (or East) quadrant of the cyclone. 
 At Kitty Hawk "a Northerly gale prevailed from 2.30 A. M. 
 until 9.45 A. M. on the 26th; at 4.10 A. M. a velocity of 
 fifty miles per hour was recorded," and the gale re-entered 
 the ocean near that place. 
 
 It would be interesting to trace the progress of the storm 
 after leaving the North Carolina coast, as shown by the ex- 
 perience of vessels which subsequently reported having en- 
 countered it. It must sufifice to say, however, that while 
 during the 25th all vessels between N. 30° and 37°, and be- 
 tween the United States coast and the seventieth meridian, 
 experienced furious gales, reaching at times hurricane force, 
 from S. S. W., S. W., and S. E., in the early morning of the 
 26th the winds South of 35° N. shifted to N. and N.W., indi- 
 cating that the storm centre had passed Eastward off the 
 coast line. On the morning of the 26th the centre was 
 about longitude 70° W. and latitude 35° N., or about 350 
 miles East of Hatteras. After reaching the ocean the rate 
 of movement of the storm centre appears to have increased 
 greatly, and by midnight of the 26th it was between 
 W, 60° and 65°. During the 27th and 28th the storm 
 
17 
 
 moved rapidly Norllicastward, keeping clear of the coast, 
 and disappeared on the 29th in the North Atlantic beyond 
 the region covered by the Signal Service reports. 
 
 It is a matter of lasting regret that a complete record of 
 the direction and force of the winds could not have been 
 made at Charleston, where the utmost fury of the gale was 
 certainly expended. About 8 A. M., however, the register- 
 ing apparatus on the roof of the Signal Service Office was 
 broken by the force of the wind, and no observations of 
 the kind were recorded after that time. Sergeant Smith, 
 the Observer at Charleston, estimates that the average 
 hourly velocity from 7.30 to 7.45 A. M. was sixty-four miles. 
 The last record made by the anemometer, at 8.04 A. M., 
 was sixty-eight miles an hour. The greatest force of the 
 wind was manifested after this time, however, and can 
 only be estimated. It has been shown that the anemometer 
 at Smithville registered ninety-eight miles an hour before it 
 was likewise broken, and that the velocity of the wind was 
 afterwards estimated at one hundred and twenty-five miles 
 an hour. It is safe to assume that it nowhere exerted 
 greater force than at Charleston, if that force may be meas- 
 ured by its effects. 
 
 The corrected barometer readings were as follows: 
 
 Monday, Align st 24th. 
 
 Inches. 
 
 7.00 A. M 29.968 
 
 11.00 " 29.990 
 
 3.00 " 29.922 
 
 Inches. 
 
 7.00 r. M 29.869 
 
 II.OQ " 29.834 
 
 Tuesday, August 2§th. 
 
 7.00 A, 
 8.00 
 8.05 
 
 8.10 ' 
 
 8.30 ' 
 
 8.40 ' 
 
 8.50 • 
 
 M. 
 
 Inches. 
 .29.440 
 .29.231 
 .29.186 
 .29.131 
 .28.962 
 .28.868 
 .28.778 
 
 Inches. 
 
 9.00 A. M 28 . 768 
 
 9.10 " 28.758 
 
 9.15 " 28.708 
 
 9.40 " 28.748 
 
 10.00 " 29.794 
 
 11.00 " 29.330^ 
 
 3.00 P. M 29 . 724 
 
 7.00 " 29.731 
 
 ' The fall in the barometer at ii A. M. marked the passage of a brief thunder storm. 
 
18 
 
 The record of the thermometer (Fahr.) was as follows at 
 the hours of observation : 
 
 Monday^ August 2^th. 
 
 7.00 A. M 83" 
 
 11.00 " 88" 
 
 3.00 p. M 83.4" 
 
 7.00 P. M 84" 
 
 11.00 " 81.5" 
 
 Maximum for the day 89" Minimum 81.2°, 
 Tuesday, August 2§th. 
 
 7.00 A. M 77" 
 
 11.00 " 74" 
 
 3.00 P. M 77" 
 
 7.00 P. M 81" 
 
 11.00 " 80.6" 
 
 [aximum for the day 83.4°. Minimum 72°, 
 
 DIRECTION AND VELOCITY OF WIND. 
 Monday, August 2^th. 
 
 7.O0 A. M. — East 10 miles an hour. 
 
 11.00 " — East II miles an hour. 
 
 3.00 P. M. — East 12 miles an hour. 
 
 7.00 " — East 14 miles an hour. 
 
 11.00 " — Southeast , 17 miles an hour. 
 
 Holding Southeast from this hour (and indeed froin some 
 time before 10 o'clock) the wind recorded its actual progress 
 in miles on the chart of the Signal Service Station as fol- 
 lows: 
 
 11.00 P. M. to midnight , 20 miles. 
 
 Tuesday, August 2^th. 
 
 Midnight to i A. M. . . .24 miles. 
 
 1 A. M. to 2 A. M 23 
 
 2 " "3 " 18 
 
 3 " "4 " 23 " 
 
 4 A. M. to 5 A. M 30 miles. 
 
 5 " "6 " 38 " 
 
 6 " "7 " 47 " 
 
 7 " "8 " 52 " 
 
 For a few minutes between 7 A. M. and 8 A. M. the ane- 
 
19 
 
 mometer recorded a velocity of seventy-two miles an hour; 
 and it should be noted that the figures in the table for the 
 25th do not record the highest velocity of the wind, which 
 constantly varied, but the distance travelled by it between 
 the hours named. Double velocity for a half hour, in other 
 words, would have given the same result in any case, even 
 though the wind had lulled entirely for the remaining half 
 hour. The greatest force of the wind was felt in Charles- 
 ton from the Southeast and from the Northwest, indicating 
 that the storm centre moved over the city on a general 
 Northeasterly line. 
 
 A great rush of cold air from the Northwest over the 
 Middle Atlantic States ensued upon the passage of the storm. 
 On the morning of the 25th killing frosts were reported in 
 Minnesota and Dakota, and on the 26th snow fell in Penn- 
 sylvania. 
 
 The approach of another severe storm, from the Gulf of 
 Mexico, was indicated on the morning of the 29th. On the 
 morning of the 30th the centre was a little Southeast of 
 New Orleans; on the morning of the 31st it was North 
 Northwest of Jacksonville and Southwest of Savannah. By 
 midnight the centre had passed off the Carolina coast, ac- 
 companied by a very heavy fall of rain, which caused much 
 damage in Charleston by pouring through the roofs broken 
 by the cyclone. 
 
 With the exception of the e.xtreme Northwest, the rain- 
 fall for August, 1885, was unusually heavy over the central 
 and Northern portion of the country East of the one hun- 
 dred and fifth meridian. It was also very heavy along the 
 coast of South Carolina and Georgia. At Charleston the 
 monthly precipitation was 19.18 inches, or nearly three 
 times the average for August at this station, exceeding by 
 more than four inches the largest monthly precipitation 
 that had occurred since the Signal Service Office was estab- 
 lished here, in 1871. The precipitation on the 25th was 
 4.29 inches, of which 4.020 fell between the hours of 10 A.M. 
 and 2 P. M., while 7.58 inches fell from the 29th to the 31st 
 inclusive. Six inches fell at Hardeeville in one day, the 31st. 
 
20 
 
 The remainder of the story is soon told. The sun which 
 shone on Charleston during the afternoon of August 25th 
 looked down on a wrecked city. The storm was over and 
 gone, but the calm which followed was such as "reigned in 
 Warsaw," and in the South for many a dreary year after the 
 the war. Tlie brave, beloved city which had been sweptby 
 fire, stormed at with shot and shell, and occupied by a hos- 
 tile army, within a quarter of a century, had now been 
 buffeted for hours by raging seas, and shaken to its founda- 
 tions by the most fearful storm that has ever visited our 
 coasts within the knowledge of man. It was naturally to 
 be expected that the inhabitants of the city would be dis- 
 mayed by the extent of their loss. But it was not so. With 
 the rising of the morrow's sun the work of repair and re- 
 construction began hopefully and bravely. Where all had 
 suffered there were none to weep over a neighbor's woes. 
 Few complaints were uttered ; despair found no place even 
 among the ruins. Offers of assistance were promptly made 
 by the Governor of the State and from various other au- 
 thorities. The answer was as promptly returned in each 
 instance that Charleston was strong enough to help itself; 
 and help itself it did so effectually that the catastrophe 
 scarcely interrupted the ordinary course of business beyond 
 the few hours required to repair the railroad tracks leading 
 out of the city, and to clear the rubbish out of the way of 
 the vehicles and pedestrians on the streets. Wrecks were 
 raised or cleared away, roofs were patched or repaired, 
 wharves were rebuilt, the debris was removed, and at the 
 end of a month a stranger passing through the city found 
 but few traces of the storm. Only a few weeks later a dis- 
 astrous tornado destroyed the town of Washington, in Ohio. 
 Among the first cities in the country to offer aid in money 
 was Charleston, which had so far recovered as to be ready 
 to extend help to others in misfortune ! 
 
 CARL Mckinley. 
 
THE TORNADO OF 176L 
 
 The following description of a destructive tornado which 
 swept around Charleston in 1 761, was published in THE 
 News and Courier, September 12, 1885, and was taken 
 from the manuscript diary of the Rev. Oliver Hart, in the 
 possession of Mr. William G. Whildcn. It clearly illustrates 
 the difference between the cyclone and the tornado, and is 
 given place in the Year Book for this reason and because it 
 possesses peculiar interest as being a record of the first storm 
 of the kind in the United States of which any account has 
 been preserved. 
 
 The record in the Signal Service Office, at Washington, 
 commences with a similar storm observed at Northford, 
 Connecticut, June 19, 1794; the third on th6 list occurring 
 at Charleston again during the afternoon of September 
 II, 181 I. Mr. Hart's graphic and too brief narrative is as 
 follows : 
 
 "On Monday, 4th of May, 1761, about half an hour after 
 2 P. M., an hour and a half after new moon, and very near 
 the time of low water, a most violent whirlwind, of that 
 kind coiumonly known under the title of typhones, passed 
 down Ashley River and fell upon the siiipping in Rebellion 
 Road with such fury and violence as to threaten destruction 
 to the whole fleet. In the 'ship news' below is an account 
 of the damage done by it : 
 
 This terrible phenomenon was first seen by man}/ of the 
 inhabitants of Charles-Town coming down Wappoo Creek, 
 resembling a large column of smoke and vapor. Its whole 
 motion was very irregular and tumultuous, as well as that of 
 the neighboring clouds, which appeared to be driven down 
 in nearly the same direction (from Southwest) and with 
 great swiftness. The quantity of vapor which composed 
 
90 
 
 this impetuous column and its prodigious velocity gave it 
 such a surprising momentum as to plough Ashley River to 
 the bottom and lay the channel bare, of which many peop'le 
 were eye witnesses. This occasioned so great a flux and re- 
 flux as to float many canoes, boats, perriaugres and even 
 schooners and sloops, which were then lying dry and at a 
 distance from the tide. When it was coming down Ashley 
 River it made so great a noise as to be heard by most of 
 the people in town, which was taken by some for a constant 
 thunder. Its diameter at that time has generally been 
 judged to be about 300 fathoms, and its height to a per- 
 son in Broad Street 35°, though it increased as it went 
 towards the road ; and when it canrje down towards White 
 Point, though it was then nearly in the middle of Ashley 
 River, it impelled such a vast body of water out of its place 
 as to make the tide run for an instant several feet per- 
 pendicular in all the docks along the Bay, and even up 
 Cooper River, above Mr. Gadsden's. About this time it 
 was met by another gust which came down Cooper River; 
 this was not of equal strength or impetuosity with the other, 
 but upon their meeting together the tumultuous and whirl- 
 ing agitations of the air were seemingly much greater, inas- 
 much as that the froth and vapor seemed to be thrown up 
 to the apparent height of 35° or 40° towards the middle, 
 while the clouds that were driving in all directions to this 
 place seemed to be precipitated and whirled round at the 
 same time with incredible velocity. Just after this, it fell 
 on the shipping in the road, and was scarce three minutes 
 in its passage; five vessels were sunk outright, and his 
 Majesty's ship Dolphin, with many others, left their masts. 
 
 All this great damage to the shipping, which is only reck- 
 oned at twenty thousand pounds sterling, was done almost 
 instantaneously, and some of those that were sunk were 
 buried in the water so suddenly as scarce to give sufificient 
 time to those who were below to get upon deck. Whether 
 was this done by the immense weight of this column press- 
 ing them instantaneously into the deep? or was it done by 
 the water being forced suddeply from under them, and 
 
23 
 
 thereby letting them sink so low as to be immediately 
 covered and Ingulphed by the lateral mass of water? 
 
 The strong gust from the Northward which checked the 
 progress of this pillar of destruction in its way from Wappoo 
 Greek, seems to have been sent by Providence for the pre- 
 servation of Charles-Town, which, had it kept its then direc- 
 tion, must have been driven before it like chaff. Another 
 memorable instance of Divine favor is the small number 
 lost of those that were on board the vessels in the road, of 
 whom, we cannot learn there were more than four, viz: Mr. 
 Nathaniel Polhill, of Georgia, a passenger in the Polly and 
 Betsy, Gapt. Muir, and Robert Kay, Gapt. Muir's nephew, a 
 sailor from on board the Elysabeth, Gapt. Mallard, and a 
 boy belonging to the Success, Gapt. Glarke. 
 
 From the shortness of the time we cannot give a partic- 
 ular account of the rice and progress of this tremendous 
 column. About noon it was seen near Spoon-Savannah, 
 upwards of thirty miles West by South from Gharles-Town. 
 It destroyed Mr. George Summer's house on his plantation 
 at Stono, and on James Island carried away a large new 
 two-story house with two stacks of brick chimneys belong- 
 ing to the estate of the late Mr. Hutson, and all the negro 
 houses and other buildings on the plantation ; Mr. WilHam 
 Glen's buildings, &c., were served in the same manner, and 
 it carried off the roof of Mr. Henderson's house and all the 
 outbuildings. Many, both white people and negroes, were 
 killed or hurt. Nor did the cattle escape, num.bers of which 
 were found dead in the fields. 
 
 In several parts of its course it left an avenue of a great 
 width, from which every tree and shrub was torn up ; 
 great quantities of leaves, branches and large limbs of trees . 
 were sent furiously driven about and agitated in the body 
 of the column as it passed along. 
 
 The sky was overcast and cloudy all the forenoon of Mon- 
 day, and about i o'clock it began to thunder, and continued 
 more or less till after 3. As soon as the damage done in the 
 road was perceived, the Governor sent orders to the corn- 
 missionary to provide and get down as many boats and 
 
24 
 
 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 014 498 076 1 ( 
 
 hands as possible. Every one seemed to vie with each 
 other who should give the first and most effectual assistance. 
 
 The fleet, as it was the largest and finest, was likewise 
 thought to be the richest that ever was cleared out from 
 Charles-Town. By 4 o'clock the wind was quite fallen, the 
 sun shone out and the sky was clear and serene. We could 
 scarcely believe that such a dreadful scene had been so re- 
 cently exhibited, were not the sinking and dismasted vessels 
 so many striking and melancholy proofs of its reality. 
 
 A storm of this kmd has seldom or ever been known in 
 Charles-Town, but the vcstages of such are to be seen in the 
 woods in more places than one, both in this and the neigh- 
 boring provinces. 
 
 Sunk, 5, viz: Snow Polly and Betsy, William Muir, for 
 London; ship Daniel, James Lake, Portsmouth ; snow Suc- 
 cess, Thomas Clarke, Cowes ; Britaiiia, Thomas Wilson, 
 Bristol, and sloop Patty, arrived this day from Providence. 
 
 Dismasted, 6: His M^ijesty's ship Dolphin, Capt. Marlowe, 
 the convoy; ship Thomas and Sarah, John Jackson, for 
 Cowes; Elyzabeth, John Mallard, Cowes; ship Tyber, Peter 
 Crombie, Cowes; Queen of Portugal, John Simpson, Cowes; 
 snow John, George Evans, London. 
 
 Lost both topmasts, 2 : Snow Eglantoun, Archibald Rob- 
 ertson, Bristol ; brig Tivo Friends, Alexander Young, Ork- 
 ney. 
 
 Lost mizzenmasts, 2: Steamships Manchester, James 
 Chambers, London ; Thorntoun, Richard Gilchrist, London. 
 
 Lost foremast, i : Ship Heron, Patrick Craw, Portsmouth. 
 
 Lost maintopmast, ! : Ship Henrietta, John Rains, Lon- 
 don. 
 
 Sunk, 5; dismasted, &c., 12; safe, or received little hurt 
 25 ; total in Rebellion Road, 42 vessels." 
 
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