Scrapbook and diary: Mary Magruder,1886-1887

1886

undaunted courage of true heroism. Washington had judged him to be the man to be thus trusted. But now, at every step, an adverse fate threw new obstacles in his way. Instead of glory he saw failure before him, when he had taken the wisest measures to insure success. Well might be write, as early as the 7th of July, to his beloved wife—that confidante of his most secret thoughts, with whom he sought communion amid his worst cares and perplexities—"I have had to make most fatiguing marches, endure much heat and overcome great difficulties; but I am still far from the end. It is even possible that after having reached the goal assigned myself I shall be compelled to retreat without striking a blow for want of provisions. I would fain be rid of my command, than which there can be nothing more annoying or difficult. My present position makes me doubly anxious to return to you as soon as possible." It is not to be wondered, therefore, that when Gen. Gates—appointed by Congress without consulting Washington— arrived to supersede him, De Kalb, instead of complaining of the injustice done him, felt a sincere feeling of relief. With his usual straightforward frankness he told Gates as much in a letter when he heard of the latter's arrival at Hillsborough. Briefly, but clearly, he gave him at the same time such information concerning the condition and resources of his little army that a less conceited officer than the conqueror of Saratoga would have avoided the terrible disasters which followed his assuming the command. "I am made happy by your arrival," wrote De Kalb, "for I have struggled with a good many difficulties for provisions ever since I arrived in this State, and although I have put the troops on short allowance for bread, we cannot get even that; no flour laid in, and no disposition made for any but what I have done by military authority; no assistance from the legislative or executive power, and the greatest unwillingness in the people to part with anything." He states that his design "to move nearer the enemy to drive them from Pee Dee river, a plentiful country, has been defeated by the impossibility of subsisting on the road, and no immediate supplies to be depended on in the first instance after a difficult march."

He will prepare exact returns of the regular troops of the department, "but," he remarks, "I could hardly depend on any but the Maryland and Delaware regiments of my division, with a small number of artillerymen and Col. Armand's legion, and all those very much reduced by sickness, discharges and desertion." Owing to the smallness of his army he had kept only eight pieces of artillery.

Gates reached camp on the 25th of July. What was the general astonishment when, on the very next day, he issued an order for the army to march on the direct road for Camden on the 27th!

Colonel Otho Holland Williams, than whom a braver and nobler son of Maryland never defended her flag, was De Kalb's adjutantgeneral. Personally acquainted with Gates, he was likely to have some influence in convincing him of the folly of this course. After consulting with De Kalb he went to Gates and remonstrated with him. He "represented that the country through which he was about to march was by nature barren, abounding with sandy plains, intersected by swamps, and very thinly inhabited; that the little provisions and forage which were produced on the banks of its few small streams were exhausted or taken away by the enemy, and by the hordes of tories who had retired from what they called the persecution of the rebels, and who would certainly distress his army, small as it was, by removing out of his reach what little might remain."

On the other hand, Col. Williams represented that there was another route about northwest, which had been contemplated by Gen. De Kalb and the most active an intelligent officers of the command. This was a route that would cross the Pee Dee river somewhere about where it loses the name of Yadkin and lead them to the little town of Salisbury, in the midst of a fertile country, inhabited by a people zealous in the cause of America. Not only did this route promise a more plentiful supply of provisions, but the wounded, in case of disaster, and the women and children might have a safe asylum provided for them at Salisbury or Charlotte, as the militia of Mecklenburg and Rowan counties were staunch friends. Col. Williams further submitted that "the advantage of taking the enemy's outposts in the flank was not to be despised, even when obtained at the expense of such a circuit, and that the army itself might then advance upon the most important of these outposts at Camden, with the Wateree on its right flank and its friends in the rear."

These and many other weighty considerations had been drawn up in writing, and were signed by the leading officers. Gates refused to discuss their importance, and on being pressed promised to consult his officers during the bait at noon on the first day's march. He failed, however, to keep this promise. The officers were not called in consultation. The distress of the troops on this march could only be borne by the highest fortitude. The hungry soldiers ate green ears of corn, boiled without salt with the lean beef that could be collected in the woods; they devoured green peaches in lieu of bread, and this unwholesome food increased daily the sick list. The officers, more prudent, contented themselves with eating the beef only, boiled or roasted. "It occurred to some that the hair-powder which remained in their bags would thicken the soup, and it was actually applied."

THE BATTLE OF CAMDEN.

On the 7th of August, 1780, the much-desired junction took place with the North Carolina militia at the cross roads, about 15 miles east of the enemy's position, on Lynch creek. On the 13th they encamped at Clermont, twelve miles from Camden, and on the following day were reinforced by a brigade of seven hundred militia under Gen. Stevens. On the 14th Gen. Sumpter, desiring to capture the enemy's wagon train from Charleston, sent an express to Gen. Gates soliciting a reinforcement of regulars. Notwithstanding the danger of reducing his already small forces, Gates sent Col. Woolford, of the Maryland line, with four hundred men, one hundred of them being regulars, with two pieces of artillery. He then made preparations to advance, o the 15th, to a position seven miles nearer to Camden.

On the approach of gates, Lord Rowdon had concentrated his forces at Camden, in a position flanked by the Wateree river and Pine-Tree creek, and strengthened with redoubts. Here Lord Cornwallis joined him on the 14th. Cornwallis found his army much enfeebled by sickness; he was misled into overrating the American force, and he judged his position to be, therefore, very critical; but delay would only make that position worse, and he would have the whole country up in arms against him. He determined at once to take the offensive and strike the first blow. For this purpose he marched out of Camden with a force of not quite 3,000 men, on that very evening of August 15 chosen by Gates for his forward movement. Both armies, ignorant of each other's intentions, moved about the same hour of the night. They met half-way at 2 o'clock in the morning about half a mile north of Saunder's creek. The first intimation of their proximity was a heavy skirmish which took place between their advanced guards. The calvary of Armand's Legion, which was in the American advance, suffered some loss in this first shock, and, recoiling suddenly on the First Maryland Brigade, occasioned a general disorder, in which Lieut.-Col. Porterfield, of the Virginia regulars, was mortally wounded. Order was soon restored, however, and the two armies halted and formed their lines for action, but awaited the dawn to resume hostilities. At this critical hour Gates summoned his officers to a counsel of war. When Adjutant-Gen. Williams brought the invitation to De Kalb, and informed him of what had taken place, the first remark of the veteran was, "Well, did not the commanding general immediately order a retreat?" He had been strenuously opposed to the advance movement, being in favor of fortifying still further the natu-

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rally strong position at Clermont, and staying there until the army should be in a better physical condition, and should receive the expected reinforcements. He went to the council, prepared to advocate a retreating movement to their former stronghold, yet, according to the best evidence, he did not carry out this intention. Gates, having repeated to the assembled officers the information concerning the enemy's strength obtained from prisoners made during the skirmish, added excitedly: "You know our situation. What had we better do, gentlemen?" There was a painful silence, broken by Gen. Stevens with the answer: "We must fight, gentlemen, it is too late; we can do nothing else, we must fight." In a council of war, the first advice is pretty sure to prevail if it is in favor of action; De Kalb saw that no one opposed Stevens's conclusion; his prudent counsels on former occasions had been disregarded; he remained silent.

The die was cast. There was nothing left but to array the army in battle order. This Gen. Gates did with promptitude, but he committed a mistake which proved fatal and was the main cause of our disaster. The second brigade of Maryland, with the regiment of Delaware, under Gen. Gist, was placed on the right; the centre was held by the North Carolina brigade of militia, under Brigadier Caswell, whilst the Virginia militia, led by Brigadier Stevens, formed the left. Now, the British general had placed his welltried veterans on his right; none but regular troops, inured to the dangers of battle, such as were the Continental brigade, should have been opposed to them. Moreover while the Americans were numerically stronger by a few hundreds, this advantage was more than counterbalanced by the superiority of the British in experienced and disciplined soldiers, for they had 1,600 regulars and the Americans less than one thousand. The fighting qualities of the Continentals might make up for this disparity if they were pitted against the British regulars. The raw militia, which formed our left, could not withstand their shock. Col. Otho Williams, adjutantgeneral, preceded our left in the advance ordered for the purpose of inviting the fire of the enemy and thus encouraging the Virginia militia. The brave Stevens had exhorted these to rely on the bayonet, and was leading them in good order, when the British general, observing the movement, gave orders to lead into battle with the right. The Virginians were overpowered and took to flight after the first exchange of fire. In vain Stevens tried to rally them; they fled, throwing away their arms, and communicating the panic to the North Carolina brigade. The centre was broken without having been engaged in action. Stevens, Caswell, and Gates himself, who had taken his post on the road between the line and the reserve, struggled to stop the fugitives, but their appeals were not listened to; they had no cavalry to assist them in the attempt to rally the panic-stricken men, the small force under Armand not having returned after their flight in the night, and the mortified generals were swept away by the human current.

POSITION OF THE MARYLAND LINE.

Meanwhile, De Kalb, who, being in charge of the line of battle had taken his post on the right, and Gist, who was in immediate command of the Continental troops, held the battle in suspense. Dixon's regiment of North Carolinians held fast, and did their duty nobly. Lieut.-Col. John Eager Howard —another illustrious name in the roll of Maryland's soldiers—at the head of Williams's regiment drove the corps in front out of line. Gist's brigade resisted the repeated charges of the British under Lord Rawdon; "bold was the pressure of the foe; firm as a rock the resistance of Gist." Smallwood was bringing up the first brigade of Maryland, hitherto held in reserve, but his advance was checked by Webster's; British regulars, who had left the pursuit of the flying militia to Tarleton's cavalry and some light troops. Obstinate and fierce was the contest, Smallwood attempting in vain to form a junction with the main body, whose flank it covered. Borne down by numbers, his brigade receded, returned to the line of battle, again gave ground, and again rallied. Meantime, De Kalb, sure of his Marylanders, ordered a bayonet charge, which he led in person, on foot. They drove the enemy before them like chaff, and for one moment victory trembled in the balance, but Lord Cornwallis concentrated his whole force for a decisive charge. Our brave troops had done all that the most exalted heroism could attempt; physical strength was exhausted, numbers prevailed and the day was lost. The soldier, the patriot had done their duty to the last; they had shown themselves heroes; now nature claimed her right and they were but men trying to save their lives by flight. The pursuit was keen and pitiless. The Marylanders lost over one-third of their number in killed and wounded; the Delaware regiment was nearly annihilated, and Dixon's Carolinians suffered terribly. It was as complete a defeat as the British could have desired, but they, too, had suffered much, and Cornwallis had paid too dearly for his victory to exult over it.

DEATH OF DE KALB.

But, ere the rout took place, in the van of that last fearful bayonet charge a hero had fallen, his face towards the foe, his life's blood oozing from eleven wounds. De Kalb had set the example in this dreadful hand-to-hand conflict, his stalwart arm dealing death at every blow, and hewing his way through the serried ranks of the enemy. At last his gigantic frame was seen to totter and to fall, like a mighty oak which has long baffled the efforts of the storm, and whose roots slowly lose their hold upon the moist soil. He was not dead. His friend and aide-de-camp, LieutenantColonel Du Buysson, throwing himself upon the prostrate form of the General, received into his own body the bayonet thrusts aimed at his chief. He cried out that this was General De Kalb, and called upon the British to spare him. The two were taken prisoners and treated with every attention. De Kalb survived but three days. In this last hour, when the heart of the loving husband and tender father must have been filled with anguish at dying far from this dear ones, the thoughts of the herioc old soldier turned to his late comrades and to the cause for which he had given his life. Collecting his fast-ebbing strength, he dictated to Col. Du Buysson a letter to Gen. Smallwood, who succeeded to the command of his division, expressing his sincere affection for his officers and soldiers and his admiration for their last heroic effort. He spoke with pride of the praise their valor had elicited from their visitors. Nor did he forget the Delaware regiment and the artillery attached to his division for their noble services on that fatal day. Then, pressing the hand of his faithful friend Du Buysson, he looked up confidently, and, with a smile on his lips, breathed his last. Death had no terrors for him; he was ready to pass inspection before the Supreme Commander and Judge; a devoted husband and father, a faithful friend, a brave soldier, and, above all, an honest man. His conscience troubled him not, for in whatever sphere of action he had been placed he had done his duty.

Thus ended the checkered life of one who, born a German, trained to war in the gallant legions of France, blessed with a happy home and the favors of fortune, had crossed the seas to place his sword and his experience at the service of republican America.

BURIED AT CAMDEN.

De Kalb was buried by his victorious adversaries with military and Masonic honors at Camden, South Carolina. His grave is marked by a monument erected by the citizens in 1825, the corner-stone being laid by Lafayette, during his Southern tour, on March 10 of that year. Washington visited De Kalb's grave in 1791 and as he stood over it he said, "So, here lies the brave De Kalb; the generous stranger who came from a distant land to fight our battles and water with his blood the tree of our liberty." The ceremonies attending the laying of the cornerstone of his monument by Lafayette were touching. Levasseur, Lafayette's secretary, says: "The General's hand resting upon the

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stone followed it in its slow descent, while the crowd regarded in solemn silence the French warrior as he thus rendered, after the lapse of nearly half a century, the last honors to the German warrier upon a soil which they both had reddened with their blood, and which their arms had combined to free."

THE MONUMENT AT ANAPOLIS.

On the 14th of October following the death of De Kalb congress passed the following resolution providing for the erection of a monument to the gallant foreigner:

"Resolved, That a monument be erected to the memory of the late General the Baron De Kalb, in the city of Annapolis, in the State of Maryland, with the following inscription:

Sacred to the Memory of The Baron De Kalb,

Knight of the Royal Order of Military Merit, Brigadier of the Armies of France, And Major-General in the Service of the United States of America.

Having served with honor and reputation for three years,

He gave a last and glorious proof of his attachment to the Liberties of Mankind and the cause of America.

In the action near Camden, in the State of South Carolina, On the 16th of August, 1780,

Where, leading on the troops of the Maryland and Delaware Lines, against superior numbers,

And animating them by his example to deeds of valor,

He was pierced with many wounds, and On the 19th following expired, in the 48th year of his age.

The Congress of the United States of America, In gratitude to his zeal, services and merit, Have erected this monument."

Lack of means and the pressure of other important public matters delayed the execution of the work for over one hundred years. At the session of the Maryland Legislature in 1878 Col. J. Thomas Scharf, a member of the House of Delegates from Baltimore city, introduced joint resolutions in the Legislature requesting our representatives in Congress to secure an appropriation to carry out the original resolution passed by that body in 1780. The resolutions were adopted, and a bill was introduced in the United States Senate by Senator J. B. Groome appropriating $10,000 to erect the monument in question, under "the management and control of the Secretary of State." The bill finally became a law in March, 1883, and immediately after applications poured into the office of the Secretary of State for the execution of the work. The matter was referred by Mr. Frelinghuysen, then Secretary of State, to Third Assistant Secretary Alvey A. Adee, who awarded the contract in the autumn of that year to Mr. Ephrain Keyser, the Baltimore sculptor. Mr. Keyser went to Rome, Italy, and in February, 1884, began his work. In the latter part of March, 1885, when the clay model of the statute, weighing nearly two tons, was almost completed, in attempting to lift one end of the platform on which the statue was built, one of the supports gave way and the model was thrown to the floor and broken into a shapeless mass. This accident greatly discouraged the sculptor and for nearly two months he tried to get his work under way without success. He at last overcame his difficulties, and by the 1st of January, 1886, the figure was ready for the bronze founder, and on July 1, 1886, it was in Annapolis ready for mounting, in accordance with the terms of his contract, without encroaching on the extra time granted him by the Secretary of State on account of the accident.

By the terms of the contract the monument was to consist of a granite pedestal, surmounted by a bronze pedestrian statue. The statue is nine feet two inches in height from the bottom of the plinth to the top of the hat, and is cast in the best quality of bronze cire perdu by G. B. Bastianelli, of Rome, Italy. The whole statue, with the exception of the head and arms, is cast in one single piece. The action of the figure represents De Kalb cheering on his troops to make the final charge at Camden, while advancing on foot, half turning to the right and waving his sword above his head, he leads them onward.

The pedestal, of Maryland granite, has been executed from the designs of the sculptor by Messrs. Matthew Gault & Sons, of Baltimore. It is twelve feet six inches in height, of simple design, consisting of a base with rough-hewn faces, two steps, a plinth upon the front with "De Kalb" carved in raised letters, a die block and cap. On the front of the die block is a bronze tablet containing the inscription ordered by Congress in 1780 in raised letters artistically executed. The two side faces of the die contain bronze coats of arms of the States of Maryland and Delaware, three feet high by two feet wide. These, as well as the inscription plate, are also the work of the sculptor, and were cast in cire perdu by G. B. Bastianelli. The total height of the monument is twenty-one feet eight inches, exclusive of the raised arm and sword and the embrankment upon which it stands.

SITE OF THE MONUMENT.

The first site selected for the De Kalb monument was a historic spot on St. John's College green. As this did not meet with the approval of Secretary Bayard, the last Legislature appointed Governor Lloyd, Attorney-General Roberts, ChiefJustice Alvey, Colonel J. Thomas Scharf and Frank B. Mayer a committee, in conjunction with Third Assistant Secretary of State Adee, to select a new site. After looking at the various sites proposed, the committee determined upon a location on the lawn on the southwest exposure of the State House on the side nearest the circle of the House of Delegates Chamber. The plot, 24 feet square, has been ceded to the government by the State, and the monument will be ready to be unveiled on Monday next. The Secretary of State, who has exclusive control of the affair, has designated a committee to take in charge the arrangements for the unveiling of the monument. Colonel J. Thomas Scharf was made chairman, but owing to the death of his father, Governor Lloyd will preside at the ceremonies, and Mr. Joseph S. Heuisler, of Baltimore, will read his address. The other members of the committee are A. S. Abell, Charles B. Roberts, Governor Lloyd, Robert Garrett, George Small, Dr. Abram Claude, John E. Hurst, Colonel Edward Lloyd, Wm. Walsh, Frank B. Mayer, Joseph Raiber.

SKETCH OF THE SCULPTOR.

Mr. Ephraim Keyser, the sculptor, was born in Baltimore, October 6, 1851, and was educated in the public schools of this city and Baltimore City College. He received his preliminary art education at the evening sessions of the Maryland Institute School of Design, and attended one year at the Maryland Academy of Art. He went to Europe in the autum of 1872, and entered the Royal Academy of Art at Munich. After going through a course of drawing from the antique and nude he became a pupil of Prof. Max Widumann, of the school for sculpture at the Academy. He studied in Munich three years, and modeled "The Page," for which he received the silver medal. In the fall of 1876 he went to Berlin and studied under Prof. Albert Wolff, and modeled his life-size stute of "Psyche," for which he received the Michael-Beer prize, which entitled him to a year's course of study in Rome. Since 1878 he has been living in Rome except occasional visits to the United States. He modeled in Rome the "Pet Falcon," "Old Storye," "Titania" and a number of portrait busts. He has modeled in Baltimore quite a number of busts of some of our prominent citizens. His works have now secured a world-wide reputation and are well known to lovers of art.

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A CITY IN RUINS.

Effects of the Earthquake at Charleston, S. C.

MANY HOUSES WRECKED.

A Large Number of Persons Killed and Injured.

CAMPING IN THE OPEN PLACES.

The City Cut Off from the Rest of the World for Hours.

Flames Among the Ruins—Scenes of Desolation—Millions of Dollars' Worth of Property Destroyed—The Shock in Other Sections—Very Strong Undulations of the Earth, but No Serious Damage—Views of the Chief of the Geological Survey on the Causes of the Disturbance—Volcanic Symptoms in the West.

The city of Charleston, S. C., which for hours after the earthquake Tuesday night was cut off from the rest of the world by the breaking of telegraph communication and the general demoralization of things in that city, was heard from at an early hour yesterday morning, when the news came that a portion of the city was in ruins, many buildings having been shaken down, others destroyed by fire, and many persons killed and wounded. The terrified people had spent the night in the streets and other open places, afraid to venture into their homes. General demoralization seems to have seized upon the populace. Another shock was felt at Charleston yesterday morning, and two more in the afternoon, the last, after five o'clock, being also felt at Augusta, Ga., and Columbia, S. C. No damage was done, though at Augusta the vibrations were noticeable for about two minutes. Business is suspended, the drug stores being the only ones open. A report that lacks confirmation is that geyser-like streams are spouting from fissures in the neighborhood of Charleston. The number killed in Charleston is estimated as high as forty and the loss of property from eight to ten million dollars. Another shock was felt there between eleven o'clock last night and midnight. It was very cevere and shook down several buildings. A number of shocks were also reported from Summerville, S. C., at a late hour last night.

CHARLESTON IN RUINS.

Buildings Wrecked, People Buried—Another Shock Last Night.

CHARLESTON, S. C., Sept. 1.—An earthquake, such as has never before been known in the history of this city, swept over Charleston last night about 10 o'clock, causing more loss and injury to property and far more loss of life than the cyclone of a year before. The city is wrecked, the streets are encumbered with masses of fallen bricks and tangled telegraph and telephone wires, and for hours it was almost impossible to pass from one part of the city to another. The first shock of earthquake was felt approaching last night at 9.53, and before people could realize what the trouble was they found themselves being tossed about and their houses falling upon them. Every one ran screaming into the streets, and in a few seconds the city was wild with human beings crazed with fright. On all sides could be heard exclamations such as "My God, save us." "God have mercy upon us sinners," and people could be seen kneeling everywhere in groups offering up prayers. The first shock was followed immediately by another, though of less effect, but renewing the screams and shrieks, and from the time of the beginning to daylight shocks were felt at intervals of half an hour, each succeeding one being less distinct. Three or four fires started in as many sections with the first shock, and the city was soon illuminated with flames, thus leading all to belive that what was left by the earthquake would be devoured by fire. However, the fire department was so well handled that the fires were gotten under control by daylight. From fifteen to twenty residences and stores were consumed. Shocks equally as severe were felt at a distance of 35 miles, and have done great damage to railroad and telegraph property. The principal business portion of the city was destroyed and hundreds of persons were rendered homeless. Men were frantic, women were beseeching mercy from the Almighty and children were in tears. Even women, armed with hatchets, fought valiantly to rescue the imprisoned unfortunates. Meeting street, from Broad to Hazel, is a wreck and is lined with unfortunates. The night was hideous with the groans of the dying, the screams of the wounded and the prayers of the uninjured. At precisely 8.25 this morning another wave swept over the city, coming, as did the other, from the southeast, and going in a northwesterly direction. By that time many of the people, who had been out on the public parks and open places all night, had ventured into their houses to get clothing and something to eat. The approach of the shock was heralded by the usual rumbling sound resembling distant thunder. As it gradually drew nearer the earth quivered and heaved, and in three seconds the shock had passed, the sound dying out in the distance. It was not destructive, all the damage having been done at 9.55 last night. St. Michael's and St. Philip's Churches, two of the most historic structures in the city, are ruined, and the steeples are down. Hibernian Hall was also wrecked. The steeple of the Unitarian Church has fallen. The police station and many other public buildings and fully two-thirds of the residences in the city are uninhabitable, being wrecked either totally or partially. Scarcely 100 houses in the city are occupied, the people being all encamped in the open places. All the stores are closed, and a scarcity of food is feared, not from a want of provisions, but because no one can be got to reach the stores to sell them. The city is wrapped in gloom and business is entirely suspended. People generally remain in the streets in tents and under improvised shelters, and will camp out tonight, fearing another shock. The gas works are injured, and probably the city will be without light tonight. Fissures in the earth are noticed, from which fine sand, apparently from a great depth, exudes. A sulphurous smell is very noticeable. Two slight shocks have been felt since this morning—one about 1.30 P. M. and one at 5.19. Neither of them did

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any further destruction. There is a great rush to the railroad depots to get away, but owing to the earthquake no trains have been able to be dispatched from the city. Not a single place of business in the city save a drug store, which is busy preparing prescriptions for the wounded, is open.

There are three or four steamers in port including the buoy tenders, and many of the inhabitants are provided with berths on these boats. Fortunately the weather has been good, and the hardships are not as severe as they might have been. The situation, however, is becoming horrible. Cut off from communication with the rest of the world, afflicated and haunted with the prospect of immediate death—that is about the condition of this community. No trains have departed or arrived here in 24 hours. It is said that all the railroads leading into the city are crippled. The statement is made that all the railroad tracks are twisted into the shape of snakes.

Owing to the demoralized condition of everything here it is impossible to give correct facts further than this: The number of casualties has not yet been ascertained— probably from 30 to 40 killed and over 100 injured. The loss to property will probably reach $8,000,000 or $10,000,000. Three-fourths of the buildings in the city will have to be rebuilt. There was very little shipping in port, and none of it was injured. The disturbances have not at all affected the water in the harbor, although it is evident that all the shocks came from a southeasterly direction, and therefore from the sea. There are no signs of a tidal wave as yet.

11.50 P. M.—Another shock has just passed over the city, rather more severe than any since last night at 9.55, knocking down several houses.

DETAILED ACCOUNT.

The Disaster as Described for the Charleston News and Courier.

CHARLESTON, S. C., Sept. 1.—The compositors of the News and Courier decline to work tonight, expecting fresh shocks of earthquake, and the paper cannot, therefore, issue tomorrow. The following article was prepared for publication in the News and Courier, and is telegraphed almost in the writer's own words:

Necessarily the description that can be given of the disaster which has befallen our city consists in the narration of the experiences and observations of individuals, and the subject being the same, and the experiences of all being nearly alike, the story told by one careful observer may well stand for a hundred others, with slight variations. Probably the best idea that can be had of the character of the disturbance, therefore, may be obtained from a narration of the events and scenes of Wednesday night as they were presented to a single person.

While engaged in his usual duties in the second-story room of the News and Courier office at the time of the first shock, the writer's attention was vaguely attracted by a sound which seemed to come from the office below, and which was supposed for a moment to be caused by the rapid rolling of a heavy body, as an iron safe or a heavily laden truck, over the floor. Accompanying the sound there was a perceptible tremor of the building, not more marked, however, than would be caused by the passage of a street car or dray along the street. For perhaps two or three seconds the occurrence excited no surprise or comment. Then by swift degrees—or perhaps all at once, it is difficult to say which—the second deepened in volume, the tremor became more decided, the ear caught the rattle of window sashes, gas fixtures and other loose objects. The men in the office, with perhaps a simultaneous flash of recollections of the disturbance of the Friday before, glanced hurriedly at each other, and sprang to their eet with startled questions and answers.—"What is that? An earthquake"—and then all was bewilderment and confusion. Then the long roll deepened and spread into an awful roar that seemed to pervade at once the troubled earth and the still air above and around. The tremor was now a rude, rapid quiver, that agitated the whole lotty, strong-walled building as though it were being skaken by the hand of an immeasurable power, with intent to tear its joints asunder and scatter its stones and bricks abroad as a tree casts its over-ripened fruit before the breath of the gale.

There was no intermission in the vibration of the mighty subterranean engine. From the first to the last it was a continuous jar, only adding force at every moment, and as it approached and reached the climax of its manifestation, it seemed for a few terrible seconds that no work of human hands could possibly survive the shocks. The floors were heaving under foot, the surrounding walls and partitions visibly swayed to and fro, the crash of falling masses of stone and brick and mortar was heard overhead, and without the terrible roar filled the ears, and seemed to fill the mind and heart, dazing perception, bewildering thought, and for a few panting braeths, or while you held your breath in dradful anticipation of immediate and cruel death, you felt that life was already past, and waited for the end as the victim with his head on the block awaits the fall of the uplifted axe.

It is not given to many men to look in the face of the destroyer and yet live, but it is little to say that the group of strong men who shared the experience above faintly described will carry with them the recollection of that supreme moment to their dying day. None expected to escape. A sudden rush was simultaneously made to endeavor to attain the open air and flee to a place of safety, but before the door was reached all reeled together to the tottering wall and stopped, feeling that hope was vain; that it was only a question of death within the building or without—to be buried by the sinking roof or crushed by the toppling walls.

The uproar slowly died away in seeming distance. The earth was still, and—Oh, the blessed relief of that stillness! But how rudely the silence was broken! As we dashed down the stairway and out into the street, already on every side arose the shrieks, the cries of pain and fear, the prayers and wailings of terrified women and children, commingled with the hoarse shouts of excited men. Out in the street the air was filled to the height of the houses with a whitish cloud of dry, stifling dust from the lime and mortar and shattered masonry which, falling upon the pavement and stone roadway, had been reduced to powder. Through this cloud, dense as a fog, the gaslight flickered dimly, shedding but little light, so that you stumbled at every step over the piles of brick or became entangled in the lines of telegraph wires that depended in every direction from their broken supports.

On every side were hurrying forms of men and women, bareheaded, partially dressed, some almost nude, and many of whom were crazed with fear or excitement. Here a woman is supported, half fainting, in the arms of her husband, who vainly tries to soothe her while he caries her into the open space at the street corner, where present safety seems assured; there a woman lies on the pavement with upturned face and outstretched limbs, and the crowd passes her by for the time, not pausing to see whether she be alive or dead.

A sudden light flares through a window overlooking the street. It becomes momentarily brighter, and the cry of fire resounds from the multitude. A rush is made towards the spot. A man is seen doubled up and helpless against the wall. But at this moment somewhere out at sea—overhead— deep in the ground, is heard again the low, ominous roll, which is already too well known to be mistaken. It grows louder and nearer, like the growl of a wild beast, swiftly approachigg his prey; and all is forgotten again in the frenzied rush for the open space,