Part 19

The town of Saratoff has a population of 125,000, contains many Germans, from having been one of the German colonies founded by Queen Catherine during her reign, to encourage agricultural industries. Here as in Volsk we found the people in the fields praying for rain, and in the evening it came. Here we met Mr. Golden, an Englishman, who has been the active agent in the Saratoff district, and Mr. Muhler, a German, who has been the active worker on the east side of the Volga in Samara Province. Both these gentlemen, together with a Catholic Bishop, say that the American help, both in material and money, came so timely that it saved thousands of lives that otherwise must have been lost. It came when they could get nothing from other sources, and their thanks to America are unbounded. The relief was "as if the Lord had ordered it." Of the "Tynehead's" cargo, Saratoff received fifty-three carloads and the Province of Samara one hundred and four cars.

There was a small quantity of the corn that got wet when put into the ship during a rain in New York, and had begun to heat when unloaded. This was sent to Saratoff with a suggestion that they use it for their cattle, but when we reached that place the peasants had washed the corn and dried it, and said it made very good bread.

As a typical incident and as an expression of the universal feeling throughout Russia:--when we reached the platform of the station at Saratoff to start westward, a Russian gentleman who could speak a little English, and another one and his wife who could not, came to the train, with an attendant bearing champagne and glasses, and made a speech of thanks, expressing the gratitude of the people of Russia to America for the heartfelt sympathy she had so beautifully expressed. The help she had brought to their people in a time of distress made every Russian feel to want to personally express his thanks. Wishing every success to its representatives, they drank to America and bon voyage.

To see some of the smaller consignments, on our way eastward from Saratoff we stopped at an inland station and went into the country some miles near Tambof, where two carloads of corn had been consigned. Here it was being ground in the wind-mills and made into the old-fashioned New England rye and Indian loaves and baked in great, brick ovens, just as we had found in other places.

Referring back to Riga. After the last car had been sealed and the way-bills sent, we were speaking of the harmony and unity that existed in all the different branches of this relief work, and it incidentally came out that the count and his family were carrying on an extensive system of relief among the peasants in the famine district, supplying some thirty villages with rye and corn bread, obtaining their corn from southern Russia, with soup, broth and tea for the sick and Nestle's food for the babies--the latter an experiment of his own. It was suggested that in such an extensive work as this he should have had some of the American corn, but he replied they could get on very well without it; that his family had taken that work upon themselves to do at the beginning, and would continue to do it until next August and did not need other help. I expressed a desire to see this work, which I later found was a fair sample of what is being so quietly done all over Russia that its extent is unknown until one comes upon it. And it was at Michailoviski that we had the pleasure of seeing some of this work.

Everywhere we found people of all classes giving their time to the work of relief to supplement the governmental help; and this does not mean simply directing, superintending, or planning work for others to execute, but I found men giving up their own business, the attention of their estates, to see personally to the detail as well as the general work. I found cultivated, intelligent, refined women making their homes in the huts of the peasants, where they could be nearer their work. I found countesses working in the huts of the typhus hospitals, or taking the sick into their own homes, giving up social enjoyments and personal comforts, their own plans, in order to make their work of relief more effective. If the official side of Russia is subject to criticism, as sometimes claimed, surely the quiet, personal work and self-sacrifice of its people in this calamity is an example for any Christian land.

Sitting at the hotel table Count George told how his conscience would protest against a good dinner after he had returned from his investigating tours in the famine district to learn the situation, as a member of the Grand Duke's Committee, for, "the ruble spent for wine and coffee would keep a peasant child or mother a whole month." But he says when he got back to St. Petersburg a few days away from the distressing scenes, his mind occupied with other business, it did not trouble him at all to eat a good full meal just as he had done before.

On another hand to show how suffering continues in any place from lack of competent oversight this incident will show.

When going over the ground to see how the relief work had been done for his committee, he came to a village that was in a very bad condition. Many sick and dying for want of food, he asked the Zemstov if a kitchen could not be established. The reply was no; there was no one to manage it. "But," he said, "you have a school here; the teacher can take charge of the kitchen." "No; he is not capable; he is too slow and of no account, and we intend to get rid of him as soon as we can get someone to take his place. There is not a person in the village that could conduct a kitchen." The count in his rounds came to the school house and found, as he had been told, that the school-master did look miserable enough in an old, worn and even ragged coat, and learned that he had not received his wages for some months; there was no money to pay him. His roll showed a list of sixty pupils; there were but fifteen present. When asked where the others were, he replied that it was so near the holiday time--only ten days--that he had let them go home. The count turned to one of the boys and asked if he had had anything to eat to-day, expecting him to say no; but he said yes; "he had a warm soup this morning." The same question to the second boy, with the same reply; and so on with all the fifteen. When asked where they got their soup, they said the master had given it to them, and had been doing so for some weeks.

The master stood in the corner with his face very red, looking very much ashamed. It was then learned that when the school-master found his pupils coming to school without food, he began to use the savings he had laid by, to feed them, until his purse would not allow him to continue with so large a number; and he had let all but the fifteen go, and he was feeding and teaching them from the savings of other years. The count said he could not pay him his wages due, but he furnished the village with the means for a soup kitchen, and the master was put in charge and conducted it in such a manner that no one thought of his being an incompetent manager.

The shipping of the cargo of corn in the "Tynehead" to the Baltic in a voyage of twenty-eight days and its distribution through Russia answers a number of questions that were raised when the proposition to send corn to Russia was contemplated. These questionings came from business men, shippers, boards of trade, the produce exchange and philanthropists, and by some it was stoutly asserted that corn could not bear ocean transportation that distance without spoiling.

And if it should pass without spoiling, it was affirmed they had no mills to grind it in Russia, that the peasant knew nothing about corn, that they could not change their habit of living, and therefore would be unable to make use of it, if received. One of the leading business men of the country went so far as to write that we might as well ship a cargo of pebbles as a cargo of unground corn. Hence there was a degree of satisfaction to see the entire cargo, with the exception of a small quantity referred to loaded in the rain, come out of the ship in as good condition as when it was put in the hold, and to find in our journey in the interior that the peasants even needed no suggestion about grinding it in their windmills, which were amply sufficient.

But when the little corn that had heated was sent to Samara with the suggestion that it be used to feed the cattle, with four additional days in the hot state in the cars, and this was still used by the peasants and called _good_, it removed any doubt that might be forced into one's mind that a starving peasant would die rather than eat a food that he was not accustomed to.

Referring back to St. Petersburg, after our list had been made up for the general distribution of the cargo, Mr. Hilton carefully went over it and said, from his personal knowledge of the people to whom the consignments were to be made, he would be willing to personally guarantee that 80 per cent of everything sent according to the list would be honestly and faithfully distributed, just as the donors wished, and he further believed that the remaining 20 per cent would be as faithfully handled.

My trip to the various places of distribution, widely separated and at unexpected times, confirmed Mr. Hilton's belief that the entire cargo could not have gone through better hands in any land.

To be able, after such observations and inquiries, to give this report is a satisfaction that repays for all the anxious care and responsibility naturally felt with such a charge.

To add to this, the deep gratitude expressed by nobleman and peasant alike, in capital or in far-away, unfrequented interior village, always the same, even the humblest peasant refusing compensation for any service rendered an American, manifests a genuine gratitude and friendliness to America and Americans which has characterized Russia during many years.

THE SEA ISLANDS HURRICANE.

COAST OF SOUTH CAROLINA.

It is probable that there are few instances on record where a movement toward relief of such magnitude, commenced under circumstances so new, so unexpected, so unprepared and so adverse, was ever carried on for such a length of time and closed with results so entirely satisfactory to both those served and those serving, as this disaster, which, if remembered at all at the present day, is designated as the "Hurricane and Tidal Wave of the Sea Islands off the Coast of South Carolina." The descriptions of this fearful catastrophe I shall leave to the reports of those who saw, shared its dangers and lived within its tide of death. They will tell how from 3,000 to 5,000 human beings (for no one knew the number) went down in a night; how in the blackness of despair they clung to the swaying tree tops till the roots gave way, and together they were covered in the sands or washed out to the reckless billows of the great mad ocean that had sent for them; of the want, woe and nothingness that the ensuing days revealed when the winds were hushed, the waters stilled and the frightened survivors began to look for the lost home and the loved ones, and hunger presaged the gaunt figure of famine that silently drew near and stared them in the face. How, with all vegetable growth destroyed, all animals, even to fowls, swept away, all fresh water turned to salt--not even a sweet well remaining--not one little house in five hundred left upright, if left at all; the victims with the clothing torn and washed off them, till they were more nearly naked than clothed--how these 30,000 people patiently stood and faced this silent second messenger of death threatening them hour by hour. Largely ignorant, knowing nothing of the world, with no real dependencies upon any section of its people, they could only wait its charity, its pity, its rescue and its care--wait and pray--does anyone who knows the negro characteristics and attributes doubt this latter? Surely, if angels do listen, they heard pleading enough in those hours of agony to save even the last man and woman and the helpless babe. Something saved them, for there is no record of one who died of starvation or perished through lack of care.

I have promised to leave these descriptions to those who saw. I will also leave the descriptions of the work of relief done at the field to those who so faithfully performed it, the members of my working staff and the volunteer workers of other fields who came to their assistance on this.

I place here the more important of the reports made to me at the time, but which have until now remained under seal, no general report of that field having been made. The main interest of these reports will consist in showing the methods of work adopted, not only to preserve so many people in life with so small means as we had at hand, but to preserve them as well from habits of begging and conditions of pauperism; to teach them self-dependence, economy, thrift; how to provide for themselves and against future want, and help to fit them for the citizenship which, wisely or unwisely, we had endowed them with. I will then, with the reader's kind permission, simply show the open doorway through which we were called to enter that field and introduce the nationally renowned advocates and escorts who personally conducted us and placed its work in our hands.

About the twenty-eighth or twenty-ninth of August, 1893, the press commenced to give notice, such as it could get over wrecked roads and broken wires, of a fearful storm coming up from the West Indies that had struck our coast in the region of South Carolina, sweeping entirely over its adjacent range of islands, known as the Old Port Royal group, covering them from the sea to a depth of sixteen feet, with the wind at a rate of one hundred and twenty miles an hour--that its destructive power was so great that it had not only swept the islands, but had extended several miles onto the mainland of the State.

I chanced to be familiar with the geography and topography of that group of islands, having lived on them in the capacity of war relief many months during the siege of Charleston in 1863-64. Knowing that they scarcely averaged four feet rise above the sea level, with no mountains, not even hills that could be called such, that the soft, sandy soil could not be trusted to hold its tree roots firm, that the habitations were only huts, to be washed away like little piles of boards--I thought I saw no escape for the inhabitants and that _all_ must have perished; and so replied to all inquiries at first made as to whether this were not a disaster for the Red Cross to relieve, "No, there was nothing left to relieve." Later and more reliable news brought the astonishing fact that it was estimated that from thirty to forty thousand had survived and were in the direst need. Was not this a call for the Red Cross? Still more emphatically, "No; if that is the case, it is beyond the Red Cross. Only the State of South Carolina or the general government can cope with that;" and again we closed our ears and proceeded with our work.

But the first week of September brought pitiful paragraphs from various Southern sources--one I recall from the governor of the State, in which he proclaimed his perplexity and great distress at the condition of these poor people, needing everything, and who, at that season of the year, with crops all destroyed, would continue to need; and closed by wondering "if the Red Cross could perhaps do anything for them."

It would not do to close our ears or eyes against this suggestion, and I at once sought our congressional neighbor, General M.C. Butler, of South Carolina, then in the Senate, now on the Cuban Commission, asking his views. The response was such as would not have been looked for in that busy, hard-worked Senator, surrounded by a network of political wires, some of them only too likely to be "live;" he dropped all business, telegraphed at once to Governor Tillman at Columbia to learn the conditions and urgently requested us to go, and he would even leave his seat and go with us as soon as we could be ready. Time is never a question with the Red Cross, and the next night, in a dark cheerless September mist, with only two assistants, I closed a door behind me for ten months, went to the station to meet General Butler, prompt and kind, and proceeded on our way. At Columbia we were joyfully surprised at meeting Governor Tillman, prepared to accompany us, with a member of his staff, and thus powerfully reinforced we made our entrance into Beaufort.

The work of relief had been wisely placed at first in the hands of committees from both Beaufort and Charleston, comprising the best business men of each city--its lawyers, merchants, bankers, all men of prominence and known practical ability. They had done and were doing all possible for them to do, with hearts full of pity, hands full of work, themselves large losers by the storm, business nearly wrecked, and needing every remaining energy for the repairing of their own damages and those of the citizens about them.

The governor, at whose request they had formed, realizing the necessities of the case, sought to release them, calling them together in each city and successively relieving them, placing the Red Cross in full charge of the relief. With the little knowledge we had of the conditions and surroundings, it would have been madness to accept, at least until both more knowledge and more numerical force were gained, and the refusal was as prompt as the proffer had been. We however promised to remain in Beaufort, meet with the committee each day, advise with them, study the situation and report our conclusions when we could safely arrive at them.

Thus we remained until the first day of October, when, realizing that the relief coming in from outside would soon diminish, as the excitement should wear away, that the sum in hand was painfully small, that the number of destitute was steadily increasing, that the winter was approaching and they must be carried through in some manner till the next year's crops could grow; and that, in order to do this a fixed system of relief must be adopted, a rigid economy enforced and every person who could do so must be made to work for his food and receive food and raiment only in return for labor; that this could only come from persons who had no interests but these to subserve and with the light of all experience that could be called to the task. Even then a successful result was questionable; but there was no question of the fatal result of any other course, and after a thoughtful council of our official board (which had meanwhile become nearly filled) on the night of September thirtieth it was decided that the Red Cross would accept the appointment of the governor and enter upon its duties the following day.

Accordingly, at the meeting of the next day, October 1, 4 p. m., the Beaufort Relief Commission, as appointed by the governor, was formally released as a committee and immediately re-elected by the Red Cross as its "advisory board," to meet and advise with us as we had done with them.

Through all these years the tenderness springs to my heart and gathers in my eyes as I recall the kindly and affectionate intercourse of months, without one break, that grew up between us. And although some have been called to higher service and greener fields, I am confident that none of us will ever seek on this side a better, more trusted, kindlier association than were found in these.

I desire to supplement the foregoing allusions to the storm by the full and ably rendered account of commodore, now admiral, Beardslee, then in command of the naval forces of that section, with headquarters at Paris Island. The admiral and his charming wife were our neighbors, and most efficient helpers through all our work:

ADMIRAL BEARDSLEE'S DESCRIPTION OF THE HURRICANE.

Mrs. Beardslee and I were participators in the events and shared the dangers brought to the inhabitants of the Sea Islands of South Carolina by the terrific West India hurricane, with accompanying tidal wave, which desolated those unfortunate islands in August, 1893.

Since our recent return and while on the journey, and at New York, friends whom we have met, and new acquaintances, have almost universally exhibited much interest in the description of the situation of affairs on those islands, before, during and after the storm, and to many the simple details which were to us but household words, brought the first realizing sense of the magnitude of the calamity.

* * * * *

Miss Clara Barton, the president of the American branch of the International Organization of the Red Cross, who has the management of contributions and of the dispensing of aid among the Sea Islands now, and had occupied a similar position at Johnstown, made us her agents to dispense on one of the islands, where weekly we feed over four hundred persons, and I know we are but doing as she would wish, in continuing so to act, during our brief respite from our work.

Therefore I most cheerfully comply with the request, and trust that my efforts to interest and revive interest will not be in vain.

GEOGRAPHY OF THE COAST.

I will premise with a bit of geography: The coast of South Carolina is bordered for over a hundred and fifty miles by an archipelago consisting of hundreds of islands and islets from a hundred square miles to as many yards in area. These are nearly all well wooded with pine, oak, magnolia and gum trees. Many of them consist largely of arable land, which, before the war of the rebellion, was divided by hedges into great plantations, whereon the rich planters, aided by their hundreds of slaves, cultivated, besides vegetables of all kinds, the famous long staple "Sea Island cotton." The islands are separated from each other and from the main land by arms of the sea, here called rivers, or creeks, according to their width and depth, some, as Beaufort, Broad and Coosaw rivers, from one to three miles in width and thirty feet in depth, and others, which, at low tide, are but marshes, with a thread of water.

AFTER THE WAR.