If this was 1886 instead of 2021, we would be waking up this morning exactly one week after an earthquake destroyed much of Charleston and almost all of Summerville. And we would likely at some point today experience another aftershock. Several of you have recently asked what happened in Kingstree during the earthquake. I can, at this point, find no news stories that specifically recount what Kingstree residents did on the night of August 31, 1886, but I have found accounts from a number of other communities, which I suspect closely mirror what happened in Kingstree.
Over the preceding weekend, there had been at least two small earthquakes felt around the state–one on Saturday night and another on Sunday. The weather on Tuesday, August 31, 1886, was extremely hot and sultry. However, many areas reported that soon after the earthquake, the humidity subsided and the temperatures cooled down. The earthquake was felt as far north as Boston, and was believed responsible for the collapse of eight large brick buildings in Helena, Arkansas. Some believed that the earthquake was connected to a terrible earthquake that struck Greece on Saturday, August 28, totally destroying six towns and claiming at least 700 lives.
The Manning Times of September 1 recounted what Manning residents experienced. Many Clarendon County citizens were in town late that Tuesday night, gathered in various business establishments, waiting as returns from that day's primary election trickled in. The reporter noted that shortly before 10 o'clock the violent earthquake, "shook every building in the place, the earth reeling and shaking like a drunken man." Others described the earthquake as sounding like a tempest roaring before the buildings began to tremble and sway from side to side. Merchandise fell from shelves; pictures swayed with the walls; and bricks tumbled from almost every chimney.
Manning's black citizens were for the most part convinced that this was the beginning of the great and terrible day when Heaven and Earth shall pass away, and many of them gathered in their churches to wait and pray.
The reporter noted that the first, and most violent, shock lasted from three-quarters to a full minute. It was followed throughout the night by a number of other shocks at irregular intervals and of diminishing intensity. Some places reported as many as 14 aftershocks, while others only felt eight to ten.
Most Manning residents spent the night either in the streets or on their doorsteps.
Rumors, of course, were rampant. One circulating throughout Manning was that a part of the Northeastern Railroad track had been swallowed by a huge opening in the earth from which "hissing, boiling steam is shooting madly." The Times added a note to this report which said, "We do not vouch for the truthfulness of the latter."
Telegraph operators in inland towns kept trying to contact Charleston with no success. Finally, late on Wednesday, the telegraph operator at Manning reported that one of the Charleston operators had walked to Moncks Corner to wire that the south waterfront in Charleston had been totally destroyed by a tidal wave, that the northern part had been severely damaged by the earthquake and that the central part of the city was on fire.
From the western part of the state, the Abbeville Press and Banner was printing when the earthquake hit at 9:50 p.m. Under the headline "The Earth on a Bender," the paper reported that the Methodist Church had been filled with devout worshipers listening to a message titled, "Prepare to Meet Your God," when the quake struck. The rumbling and shaking of the earthquake caused a panic, with worshipers rushing to get outside the church. One lady stumbled and fell as she attempted to get to the door. Others tripped over her and "were soon prostrate." No one, however, was seriously injured. Those faithful who remained in the church, sang the "Doxology," while those outside rushed to their homes to assess the damage. While plaster cracked and fell and many chimneys lost bricks, no houses in Abbeville were severely damaged. Prisoners in the jail were heard in loud prayer and song. The Abbeville Colored Band was rehearsing in the basement of the Clinton Lodge. The paper reported that members left in such a hurry they forgot to lock the door.
One of the most compelling accounts is that of Charlie Barber of Winnsboro in his slave narrative recorded by W.W. Dixon for the WPA in the 1930s. According to Barber, there had been a prophecy that the world would end in 1881. Many folks in Winnsboro, he said, were just beginning to get over that scare by August 31, 1886. On that Tuesday evening, the members of St. John Methodist Church were having a revival. Barber said the preacher was praying after the first sermon, "but never got to the amen part of the that prayer." There came a rumbling noise like far-off thunder and then the church began to rock like a baby's cradle.
There was great excitement inside the church, and Barber said that Aunt Melvina hollered "The world is coming to an end." The preacher, he said, exclaimed, "Oh, Lordy," and ran out of the pulpit. Everybody ran out of the church into the moonlight, and then came a second quake about a minute after the first. Somebody in the crowd started screaming, "The devil is under the church! The devil is under the church! The devil is going to take the church on his back and run away with the church!"
No one stayed around to see that happen, as the congregation all started running and didn't stop until they got to the Court House in Winnsboro. Once there, they started telling others who had gathered that the devil had taken St. John's Church and flown away to hell with it.
Henry Gailliard, an attorney, spoke to them and explained what was really happening. He begged them to go home. The Winnsboro telegraph operator, Joseph Skinner, told them that the main part of the earthquake was "way down 'bout Charleston" and too far away to hurt anybody in Winnsboro "unless a chimney brick fell on somebody's head."
Barber said that most people were satisfied with these explanations. Some went home, but a number of them sat on the railroad track all night.
The next night, they gathered again at St. John's and finding the church building still there, "such an outpouring of the Spirit was had as never was had before or since."
Charlie Barber was 23 years old at the time of the earthquake. He lived a long life as he is recorded in the 1940 census as a 78-year-old still living in Winnsboro. He apparently remained a member of St. John's AME Church his entire life as he is buried in the church's graveyard.
2 comments:
Thanks for sharing this, Linda. Until reading this I didn't know the earthquake was felt as far west as Abbeville and Winnsboro. Amazing.
Reading this article, I couldn’t help but smile. I could imagine everyone running and frightened out if their wits, not knowing or ever had experiencing such an atrocity. As usual Linda you have provided us with words that spark images.
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