Proceeding to Marion on Friday night, with the expectation of being able
to complete the investigation in another 24 hours, I found a situation
which made it imperative that I should spend two or three days in that
section.
A very active and interested Relief Committee, with Mayor S. T. Miles
as chairman, was fully alive to the needs of the situation, and had
succeeded in raising a fund of over $500.00, in addition to what had
been sent by the Red Cross. I learned from this committee that the
four townships of Marion County had been practically submerged. These
townships form a tongue of land lying between Big Peedee and Little
Peedee Rivers. During the flood the water of Big Peedee had risen and
flowed clear over the intervening strip of land until they met the water
of Little Peedee. A sandy ridge extending North and South through the
interior ordinarily forms the water shed between the two rivers, and, at
many points, the water had covered even this comparatively high land.
Arrangements were at once made for me to proceed to Eulonia, the home
of Mr. S. U. Davis, who was said to be more thoroughly familiar with
conditions in the flooded section than any one else.
After dinner Mr. Davis drove me through several miles of flooded country.
It was a matter of regret with him that I had not come a week earlier
when—nearly two weeks after the flood—the whole country was still under
water, and boats were the only available means of transit from point to
point. At that time most of the homes were vacant, and the occupants,
with their cattle and household effects, were camping out wherever they
were lucky enough to find a spot that was “high and dry.”
[Illustration: PEE DEE RIVER FLOOD.]
In a little two-room shanty, near Mr. Davis’ place, thirty-four people
found shelter at one time during the high water. One resourceful farmer,
when forced to move out of his home, which, though partially submerged,
was still the dryest spot on the farm, provided for his live stock by
tethering the cow to the cook-stove in the kitchen, and quartering his
five hogs on the bed. In another instance a couple, who were determined
to stay in their homes at all risks, themselves “camped out” on the bed,
and at meal times paddled over to the cook-stove on a hastily-constructed
raft.
That people who had suffered as these people had could still be
brave-hearted enough to dwell upon the humorous side of their tragedy,
shows that it is hard to drown out American “grit,” and the American
sense of humor. But the tragic side was ever present and needed no
emphasis. One woman, of whom Mr. Davis spoke, a widow with three small
children, had lost her entire crop. At the time of the flood she was
desperately ill, and, when rescued in a boat with the children, it was
feared that she would die as a result of the exposure. She was now,
however, recovering, but some provision would have to be made for her
until another crop could be raised. Throughout all this section there had
been comparatively little loss of household goods and effects, because
most of the people were warned in time to enable them to remove their
belongings to a place of safety.
We drove through acre after acre of rotten corn, and of cotton fit
only to be plowed under to fertilize the ground for next year’s crop.
Fences had been ruined and bridges swept away, and several times it was
necessary to make a wide detour, in order to find a safe crossing place.
One man with whom we talked, who, with his family, had just moved back
into their still damp house, said that he had nothing left, but a little
corn, a few chufas and a patch of cane. Every farm we visited in that
section was practically in the same condition.
The next day, Sunday, we started again at 10 A. M. over a road that
led down the sandy ridge that, for the most part, had not been covered
by the waters, though even here the lower points had been submerged.
Then turning eastward through the section marked on the map as the Low
Flat Lands, we left the beaten track and, for a long time, traveled
through alternating areas of partially submerged woodland, and sodden
savannahs—the South Carolinian term for meadow land. It was not easy to
follow the trail across the savannahs, and the drive through the woods
was even more difficult. As we lurched along through the water we never
knew at what moment the buggy might strike some submerged log or stump.
We took dinner at the home of Mr. Fontaine Davis, a planter and merchant
at the lower end of Britton’s Neck Township, who kindly volunteered to
take me on down into Woodberry Township, as far as we could go, while Mr.
S. U. Davis rested his horse ready for the return journey.
The country we drove through at the upper end of Woodberry Township had
suffered severely from the floods, and the crops were an almost total
loss. We went as far as the road was open until we struck a point, beyond
which all the bridges had been washed away. Woodberry Township forms a
peninsula between the two rivers already spoken of. Fortunately it is
very thinly settled, and most of the farmers have their homes on the
comparatively high land in the center of the township. Mr. Fontaine Davis
said that he had only heard of five families in the section below that
which we visited who had suffered to any serious extent.
We talked with an old man, who for 43 years had lived on his farm in
the upper part of Woodberry Township. “I ain’t never saw anything like
it before,” he said, “and I don’t know how to figure it out. The waters
was five feet higher than they was in the Sherman ‘fresh’ of ’65.” He
said that within a radius of three or four miles there were eight or ten
white families, and ten or twelve colored families: all of whom had lost
practically their entire crop. He, himself, had lost all of his corn,
most of cotton, and nearly all of his live stock.
Mr. Richardson, whom we next interviewed, a man who owned 80 acres of
land, 27 in corn, 35 in cotton, the rest in pasture, garden, etc., had
lost everything. The cotton had been an exceptionally good crop, and
would have made a bale to the acre at the market price of about $40.00
a bale; this alone meant a money loss of $1,400.00. The corn upon which
he depended for food for his family and stock was also gone, and, as he
put it, “I don’t know what we are going to do for something to eat this
winter.”
The next house we passed was a deserted little negro cabin whose wrecked
chimney bore witness of the violence of the flood. This had been the home
of an honest, hard-working colored man, who, with his family of five
children, lived on the little rented patch of about 20 acres. His nine
acres of corn would have fed his family and his animals. His seven acres
of cotton would have yielded about three bales, which would have given
him $120.00 as the cash proceeds of his year’s labor. With this he would
have paid off his store bill of $50.00; $20.00 would have gone for rent,
and after making a payment upon the horse he had just purchased, the
husbandman would have had a small cash balance to see him through to next
crop time. Now corn and cotton are both swept away; there is no money to
settle the store bill, nor pay for the horse, and there is no food for
the family to subsist on through the long winter months.
As nearly as could be estimated by those familiar with the local
conditions, there were fully 200 families in the lower end of Marion
County, renters and “lienors,” whose situation is about as hopeless as
that of the family just referred to. Many, who like Mr. Richardson,
owned more or less land, are in a position to obtain advances on their
holdings, and though seriously crippled, can probably weather the storm.
But for these other families, who are without such resources, some
adequate relief measures will have to be undertaken.
The attitude towards customers and tenants assumed by the merchants and
plantation owners bears high testimony to their generosity and public
spirit. It is taken for granted that no claim for rent will be made and,
as far as possible, credit will still be extended to the flood sufferers.
But it is too much to expect that these men can assume the whole of the
burden, for they have themselves suffered severely. Mr. Davis estimated
that in an area of several miles there was only one of the flood victims
who was not indebted to him for a larger or smaller amount. Some of these
debts would eventually be paid; many of them would never be recovered.
He said he had begun to figure out his losses, but they mounted up so
appallingly that he had stopped short before he was half way through. I
was told that he had advanced over $18,000.00 worth of fertilizer to the
farmers trading at one of his four stores. If this was true, it gives
some idea of the magnitude of his losses, and shows the impossibility of
expecting men, under such circumstances, to do all they would normally be
able to do for their poorer neighbors.