At that time we endorsed on this report the following:

From two plantations on St. Helena’s Island Rev. D.E. Washington’s report shows 32,331 feet of ditching, two houses built, four repaired. The close of his report has this:

I find this observation on the back of this report, after a visit to look at his work and to speak to his people:

From the mainland Rev. Wade Hampton, in returning his tools, after making nearly one mile of canal and ditches, and 330 feet of causeway, says:

From another section of the mainland, William Grant, of Pocotaligo, reports nearly two miles of canal eight feet wide, and about the same amount of ditches, and the building of four houses.

Jack Snipe, a young man, almost a boy, after building 5 chimneys, getting out over 4000 shingles and clapboards, and repairing 11 houses, began and made 2000 feet of ditches, and we find this endorsement on his paper. “July 27, I went over part of Jack Snipe’s work to-day. He was a hard working, conscientious man, but not very strong physically. After his work of building and repairing as the leader of his men, he took charge of the ditching; got sick from working in the water, and died soon after. Mrs. Barker, one of our volunteer trained nurses, worked faithfully during all his illness to save him, but in vain.”

Ben Watkins, on Baker Place, shows 19,562 feet of ditches, 1 house built, 2 repaired, 3 large gardens fenced, 7 wells dug. “July 24, 1894, inspected this work, both buildings and ditches, and found the work well done, the ditches being new and important, carrying the water from three large ponds. One main ditch is from four to seven feet deep, equally wide at the top. The crops are in excellent and promising condition, and Watkins’ work is more than he has claimed for it, besides being practical and well done. The Gregorys and Browns on Baker Place have attractive homes, neat and orderly, with appearances of thrift and industry.”

These quotations taken at random from a list of a hundred reports serve to give an idea of the kind and quality of the work done over the entire field, as well done in one district as another from Charleston to Savannah, a distance of 150 miles, including a large area of the mainland as well.

While these people are in large measure cut off from the advantages that come from travel and contact with the outside world, they have a peculiar style of expression, and a musical sweetness of voice that is unusually attractive. They are of different origin and type from the Virginia or “upland people;” many are good scholars, due largely to the schools of Miss Batoum and Miss Murray on St. Helena, and others established soon after the war. Nearly all read and write. Still, there are some that retain the old-time style of expression, as in the following: “We’s de bes garden I eber seen sence I was a man grown.” “All de squash, de tomaty and de watermillion seed gone died, but de Lo’d’s will must be done.”

“All de house (houses) is done ractified.” “I couldn’t tell a lie, for I’z deacon in de chuch. I has to be respectable.” Another says: “I’v ben dar from de fust upstartment, and dar ain’t ben de fust rag gin to dose people.”

Another: A man who had seen the Red Cross staff getting on the boat to go to Charleston said: “I tell you, doctor, when I see Miss Barton gettin’ on the boat to go away I just felt so, my eyes couldn’t help leakin’ water, for you all have saved us people.”

After the general relief had closed, and the body of the Red Cross staff had left, Dr. Egan remained with me to help finish the distribution of a remnant of supplies and tools that could be kept in use, and to encourage the continuance of the general improvements so well begun. Considerable attention was given to visiting the work, and the people on the different islands in their churches, where practical suggestions were made on the line of the instructions they had received from headquarters at first. These talks were always preceded by an inspection of the fields, gardens, buildings and work which had been done on the place, for the purpose of better judging what kind of suggestions would be of most profit to the people; but the subjects usually taken up would be headlined thus:

Prosperity.

Keep out of debt. Debt is a burden and a hindrance to prosperity, the cause of much trouble and bad feeling. “Owe no man anything.”

How to keep out of debt. Keep the garden producing something to live on the entire year. The climate here will allow this to be done.

Then a list of vegetables suitable for the soil and the climate that experience has shown can be raised with success.

On the farm keep some kind of profitable crop growing the entire year, both for profit and for feed for the stock. Follow the regular corn crop with a second one for fodder, or with some of the root crops, as turnips, beets, rutabagas, cabbage or collards.

Plant such things as the fowls will injure inside the garden fence.

Fruits; figs and grapes grow from cuttings, and are easily raised, if only protected from the pigs, the goats, or the cattle. Pears, peaches, apples, oranges, pomegranates, pecans, walnuts, grow with a little care. (Fine samples of vegetables and fruits raised on the islands, often by their own people, were shown in evidence.) Let each one raise and preserve his own meat, or have a neighbor who has been successful, put it up for him until he learns how for himself. This point was particularly made, because the general custom of the country is to sell hogs for three or four cents a pound and pay twelve to sixteen cents a pound for pork.

Homes:—Make them neat, light, attractive; have trees, flowers and the simple conveniences, any and all of which can be had by a little thought, labor and interest.

In the line of health, use less pork, more vegetables, fruit, milk, eggs, and pure water. Good wells are necessary, ditches are necessary for health as well as for agricultural development. If all the plantations are well drained, it will in large measure banish fevers from the islands.

Observe among your people which one succeeds best in any undertaking, whether it is in the raising of a particular kind of crop, or the saving of it, the successful curing of his meat, the raising of fruit, the breeding of good stock, or having attractive home—go to that one for that particular kind of information or instruction that you want. Strive to improve the moral standing, which is necessary for physical as well as social advancement.

No one who has been with these people, worked with them as we have, but must be pleased to observe their gratitude, their gentle manner of expressing it, their desire to improve and their attention to instruction or suggestion, their cheerful disposition and their faith in God and the Red Cross.

ON THE CHARLESTON GROUP.

Among those who lived the storm and later brought their experience and quickened sympathy to us for such help as they could give to their still suffering companions in danger and woe, was our tireless and faithful assistant, Mr. H.L. Bailey, of Charleston.

It has never been my good fortune to find one who—entirely new to the work and to its conception—has grasped more readily the field of labor presented to him. The success attending his work and the satisfaction attested by his beneficiaries are rich stores of memory for a lifetime. The Red Cross could not have asked for better service.

Report of Mr. H.L. Bailey.

In order to make the following narrative more complete I deem it not amiss to preface it with a short account of my own experience in the great Cyclone of 1893, and a few incidents relating thereto.

In August, 1893, I was doing business on that part of Edisto Island, known as “Little Edisto,” and spending the nights at a small place “just across the creek” called “Brick House,” said place taking its name from an old and substantial brick house which had been built on that spot, at a time ante-dating the Revolutionary War, and much honored in that locality on account of its antiquity and the good material of which it was built, the bricks, etc., having been imported from Holland.

On Saturday morning, August 30th, I went to my business on “Little Edisto” as usual, and on arriving I remarked to Mr. Whaley (my employer) how promising the crops were looking, and the bright prospects of a fine harvest. His answer was “Yes; but I am afraid a storm is brewing, and one of unusual severity, too, because the signs of the last few days have been ominous of such, and I feel very uneasy.” I, being young and skeptical, of course took no heed of his prophetic words, and alas, only a few hours more convinced me that something of unusual magnitude was upon us. I retired that night, and on awaking next morning (Sunday) took breakfast, and parted from Mr. W. to spend the day at “Brick House,” promising him to return that evening and remain all night. But circumstances intervened (which prevented me from doing so for several days later) so appalling that even as I write them now, a cold shudder comes over me, and all the horrors of that awful time come back.

Sunday morning dawned dull and hazy with a stiff breeze blowing from the east and in crossing the creek, I remarked to my companion that we would have bad weather, and on reaching “Brick House” we all began speculating on the approaching storm (no one ever dreaming such a storm was coming), etc., etc., and so the day wore on, the wind rising higher and higher every moment, and towards afternoon the trees began to bend and sway in a terrible manner, branches and limbs flying in all directions. By sunset we were all thoroughly alarmed and moved over to the previously mentioned “Brick House,” deeming that the safest place to pass the night, and in a few hours’ time the whole population of the village was gathered under its protecting roof, all feeling thankful a safe shelter was provided for us. How we passed that night of terror, only God knows, for the winds blew, the rain fell, and the tide rose, until towards midnight it seemed as if everything was lost; but the old house stood and carried us through until dawn of another day, and then what a sight met our anxious eyes. What had been a smiling pretty village, was nothing but a pile of wreckage and a mass of ruins, some houses having been washed away completely, and those that remained, so badly damaged as to be uninhabitable. To make matters worse even our food had been swept away, and there we were, cut off from the island on this point of land, wrecked, desolate and hungry, some of us with only the clothing on our backs, all the balance gone; and as far as the eye could reach there was nothing to see but water, and those spots from which the tide had receded, covered with portions of houses, trunks of clothing broken open and scattered, drowned poultry, and every crop ruined and prostrated. After a little while we found some grist that had been saved by a colored man, and cooking this with some saltwater and “drowned” chicken, we subsisted till evening, when help came in the shape of water and food.

By Wednesday I returned to “Little Edisto” and Mr. Whaley, who I had been so anxious about during the storm. I found the brave old man “holding the fort,” and trying to save, by drying out, etc., what the storm had left; but oh! how different everything looked. What had been of so much promise and beauty had been literally swept from the face of the earth, nothing remaining but ruin, desolation and death for those whose all had been taken from them if help did not come quickly. It is hard for those who were not there to realize such a condition of things; but just imagine a whole island completely covered with water (and a raging sea, at that) from three to six feet in depth. Can you wonder that so many poor creatures were drowned or that anything was saved at all?

Fortunately Mr. Whaley had saved some provisions which were stored in his house out of the reach of the tide, and gathering up all else we could find, we began issuing food to the poor hungry negroes around us, who had been entirely bereft of their all. And there I stayed on that little island for some time after the cyclone, giving out each day of our own little store, food, medicine and comfort to those who came, trusting that when that supply was exhausted, other means would be provided to carry on the good work, thus so nobly begun; for it must be understood that those who had, freely gave to those who had not, and the men of that section worked hand to hand and heart to heart to help those of their colored brethren, who otherwise must have died of hunger, sickness and exposure.

Such then, was the condition of affairs when news was received that the Red Cross would take the field, and a sigh of relief, and a prayer to God went up from thousands of homeless, hungry, helpless and demoralized people, who had gone through so much, it seemed a miracle they were still alive. I then went to Charleston and immediately wrote to Miss Barton offering her my services, telling her of my knowledge of the people and the islands, and how glad I would be to help her in any way to relieve the necessities of the thousands that were begging for help. My offer was accepted; a telegram summoning me to Beaufort, the Red Cross Headquarters, and there I made the acquaintance of the noble lady who had come to our stricken people with her valued corps of assistants, to perform a task that was gigantic in its contemplation.

I was retained by Miss Barton in Beaufort three weeks, and by practical teaching was soon able to grasp intelligently the true intents and purposes of the Red Cross, and able then to undertake any duty assigned me. I was then sent to take charge of the district composed of Edisto, Wadmalaw, John’s and Kiawah Islands, the first three named being very large islands, with a combined population of nearly 10,000 souls.

Kiawah being directly on the sea was almost entirely submerged by tidewater, and on the other islands, those portions which were directly exposed to the sea and the tributary streams suffered in like manner. Cotton, the main dependence of the people, was almost totally destroyed, and only in some localities were any potatoes and corn saved, and these badly damaged. I found many people hungry, destitute, without suitable habitation or sufficient clothing and badly demoralized. Such, then, was the condition of things when I took charge, and how to meet the various problems that arose, and to cover this territory in the most intelligent and speedy way of course became my first object. After planning a little I soon arrived at a happy solution, and proceeded to organize the territory into working condition.

Rockville, on Wadmalaw Island, had been selected as the most central point to work from, and making this my headquarters and basis of supplies, I secured a house and was soon comfortably fixed, with sufficient supplies on hand to meet the immediate wants of the people. To reach all these people quickly and often was the next point to be settled (scattered as they were over an area of vast dimensions, divided in many places by streams, at times dangerous to navigate). This difficulty was overcome by thoroughly canvassing each island, and establishing one or more sub-stations at the most central location, and from these stations I would each week make my distribution of rations, receive reports, arrange work for the coming week and transact other business. All this time petitions of various kinds had been coming in, and my time was fully occupied in seeking out those who were in immediate want, among the old people and children especially, and I soon got that settled sufficiently to give me a chance to start all able-bodied men, that needed help, in ditching, house-building, bridge-building and any other work I could find that would benefit the general community; and soon I had large forces at work on each island. A school for children was established at Rockville, which was successfully conducted for some time, and a wharf built, which is as unique as it is substantial, having been built by native workmen with raw materials cut and hewn out of the woods, the piles being driven by a pile driver of our own construction. This wharf stands to-day, a monument of strength and an object lesson to those who were doubtful of its completion. On the several islands much good work was done; new dams being thrown up; bridges rebuilt and abandoned lands reclaimed. I occupied this field for over eight months, and during that time visited every district one day of each week and personally distributed all rations given out, thus being certain that nothing was misappropriated. From Monday until Saturday I would travel by team and boat, on an average of twenty miles a day, never allowing rain, wind or anything else to keep me from going, as some of these poor people had to walk miles to reach the point of distribution, and I could not disappoint them and cause them to go back empty handed. The distribution of seeds, as they came in season, was started from the beginning, and soon gardens of various dimensions began to spring up in all directions, thus making another valuable food supply which was practically inexhaustible, as long as no frosts interfered. Happily the season was propitious, and the people by these little gardens were well supplied with vegetables of all kinds. Corn, bean and Irish potato seed were also supplied. Knowing these people as well as I did (having been amongst them from childhood), I had a peculiar sympathy for them, and in every possible way so conducted my affairs as to benefit and instruct them in the highest possible manner, the results obtained fully repaying me for all my exertions in their behalf. I never at any time found them anything but kind, respectful and extremely grateful for what was bestowed upon them, and the evidences shown to-day, amply testify to the good that was done by Red Cross methods and teachings. Of course troubles and trials would arise, but these were soon overcome, and things would go on smoothly again.

The methods adopted by Miss Barton, and through me carried out, gave universal satisfaction, and all able-bodied men were willing and anxious to work for their rations. The clothing (a large quantity), with the exception of that given by me in exchange for labor, was distributed through the sewing societies formed by Miss Barton.

This field was taken in December, 1893, and held till August, 1894, when I left there, feeling satisfied that all danger from want and privation was over. Vegetables had been abundant, still coming in, the rivers furnishing their portion in abundance of fish, etc.; all crops promising a good harvest, the people in the meantime having been brought safely through the most trying period of their lives. Many incidents could be mentioned of the trials and sufferings endured by these people, and when the whole story is told, those who bestowed their charity in this, the most appalling disaster that has ever visited our coast, will not feel that it was injudiciously expended, or their kindness misplaced.

Too much cannot be said in praise of Miss Barton, that great and wise general, on this most peculiar and difficult field, for there never was a man or woman who labored more zealously or untiringly in a work so varied in its character or harder to perform. Enough has been said to tell the arduous duties to be performed, and the cares and anxieties attendant upon a work of this kind, but after a hard day’s work, the consciousness of having made so many poor souls happy would take away all feeling of fatigue, and long in the night would we be packing and unpacking goods and clothing, and sometimes all day Sunday, thus showing that no amount of time or effort was spared in behalf of those dependent upon us.

In regard to the good accomplished by the Red Cross (a question so often asked), can more be said than this? That human life was saved from death by starvation; the homeless were housed, and the naked were clothed, and by our words of counsel and cheer we were enabled to give new hope and life to a people who were in a most pitiable condition. Some who were not on that hard fought field have been so bold as to criticise us, but we who were there with these people in their hour of need, and worked with them heart to heart and shoulder to shoulder, know what we did and the everlasting good accomplished.

I kept a complete record of all goods received and everything given out, from a pint of grits to a barrel of clothing. Committees composed of the most intelligent men and women were formed to investigate and report for each plantation, and as each new applicant appeared, their home was immediately visited, and relief extended according to their needs. In justice to all who came, I can truly say that in very few instances was I imposed upon, as they very seldom stated other than the truth in regard to their condition. This narrative could be extended indefinitely, there is so much to write about, but fear I must come to a close, as my patient readers must be tired by this time. Sincerely trusting that these lines will convey their true meaning to those interested, I will subscribe myself as a sincere admirer of Miss Barton and that grand institution she so fittingly represents.

Eight thousand one hundred and nine souls were in the wards of the Red Cross in this district, in the following proportions on each island:

Upwards of 200 packages of clothing (barrels, boxes and cases) were given out, besides blankets, comforters, etc., special attention being given to those who were sick, old or helpless. Food stuff was distributed in the following amount:

and other sundries, such as tea, sugar, canned beef, etc. Seeds were supplied, such as peas, tomatoes, okra, melon, bean, corn, etc., of the following amounts:

Statement of Work Done on Each Island.

WADMALAW ISLAND.

• Twenty miles of ditching.
• One-half mile of road work.
• One house repaired and others rebuilt.
• Three chimneys repaired and others rebuilt.
• Five hundred shingles cut and split.
• Six thousand feet of planking and timber hewn and cut.
• Wharf built at Rockville of the following dimensions:
  • One hundred and ten feet long.
  • Ten feet wide with a bulkhead twenty by thirty feet.
• A school started and carried on for several months.

EDISTO ISLAND.

• Two hundred and eleven and one-half miles of ditching.
• One thousand four hundred and seventy feet of causeway, twelve by two feet, built.
• Two hundred feet of timber cut and hewn.
• One bridge eighty feet long and twelve feet wide rebuilt.

KIAWAH ISLAND

• One bridge thirty-four feet long and ten feet wide rebuilt and put in order.
• One bridge fifty feet long and ten feet wide rebuilt and put in order.
• Lumber to do same cut and hewn out of woods.
• Nine hundred feet of causeway repaired and put in good order.

The above account does not include the hundreds of little things which would come up from day to day, and the many cares that were upon us at all times, requiring immediate attention.

THE CLOTHING DEPARTMENT.

Whilst food for the nourishment of these thousands of human bodies was of the first and highest importance, it was followed so closely by the necessity of something to cover them, that the two seemed well nigh inseparable; and while our men stood over the boxes of meats and the bags of grain, by the carload and the trainload, it was no less imperative, that some one stand by the boxes and barrels of clothing sent from, everywhere—sent by the great, warm, pitying hearts of our blessed, generous countrywomen, from the church, with its towering steeple and the soft-toned bell that calls to prayer, the blazing bazaar, with its galaxies of beauty, animate and inanimate, the dimly lighted, one little room of the woman who has toiled out all day and returns weary and heavy laden to the waiting family of little ones, who, in the midst of their own hard life and the need of much, still bless God for a fate better than those they hear of—from all of these alike come the gifts of Dorcas. In tons they come, and some one must, “stand and deliver,” as hour by hour goes out the appeal: “Closen marm—please give me some closen. I’s lost all I had!” How literally true this was may be judged by the fact that here as at Johnstown, there were those who came out of that terrific strife for life with no thread left on the body but the shirt band about the neck, which a strong, well-sewed button had served to hold.

Again, as always, we turned to our “Mistress of the Robes,” Mrs. Dr. Gardner, whose quick and clear judgment seems to double the value of all she handles. She goes to every field, helps to organize, and remains as long as the strength in her slender, wiry body permits. She left her unpretending report as far as she was able to do, or to make it:

Mrs. Gardner’s Report.

On the first day of October, 1893, the American National Red Cross took charge of the relief work of the Sea Islands of South Carolina. During the month before this and just after the storm, the clothing department had been in the hands of a very efficient local committee composed of some of the most prominent ladies and gentlemen of the section around Beaufort.

In the first days after a disaster of this kind, the necessity of relief work is so great, that it is impossible to keep a correct record of supplies that pour in from every part of the country, and this was no exception, with both hearts, and hands full, distributing to the thousands of destitute who were imploring them on every hand for help, this committee had nothing to tell of what had been received.

After we took charge, a faithful record was kept, and when there was a mark of any kind to show us where the goods came from, an acknowledgment was sent at once. Many, many things came without a sign of any directions to tell where they were from. In these cases close watch was kept for any writing inside to give some clew. I have even taken the newspaper the box, barrel or parcel was lined with, and tried in that way to reach the donors.

The people of the United States are a most generous people, and yet so modest with it, that they very often miss the verification of the saying that “it is more blessed to give than to receive.” Could they stand, as do the members of the National Red Cross, and look into the glad, grateful faces of the relieved ones, there would be no need of our president sending out circulars and letters all over the country, praying that articles for the relief be plainly marked. Would it be out of place for me to urge the good people who read this report to remember this when sending to the next field?

The distribution of the clothing had to be systematically planned. Here was a territory 150 miles long by 50 miles wide, not on the main land, but on islands, surrounded by water, with the most treacherous channels, and many impossible to even get into. The people to be helped, kind and industrious, but they had been dependent from their cradles, and were in such a dazed condition, they hardly knew what had overtaken them.

The clothing, plenty of it, but all for adults. What was to become of the little waifs of the wind, rain and high tide? Evidently these goods had to be fashioned into little garments.

Bedding, comparatively none, and every few minutes the plea, “Please miss, just a little bedding to keep the chilluns warm at night.”

I have stood at my table from 7 a.m. until way into the night, opening boxes, barrels and parcels, and not one piece of bedding to come to my hands. The people on half rations, thinly clothed and nothing to keep them warm of a night.

This, as well as all other puzzling questions, were referred to our most honored president, and I have asked her to tell how she came to the rescue, and by her wise forethought not only assisted her own workers, but placed a responsibility upon the people that made them help each other, and gave them a self-respect that they would have gained in no other way.

THE SEWING CIRCLES.

There are many points in the administration of relief that will never present themselves until forced upon the mind by the absolute necessities of the case. It was not long until we were confronted with a condition of things that called for ingenious methods and diplomatic action. All foods sent or purchased were always of good quality and in readiness for immediate distribution and use—these could be given to the committeeman, who in turn sent them out as veritable rations a specified quantity to each. There was no question, no judgment required, no opportunity for favoritism, no chance for reserve. But with the clothing all these conditions changed and securities vanished. The committeeman who came for the rations of food, took also the boxes of clothing, and naturally claimed the privilege of distribution. The clothing sent was very largely, as is always the case, for women and children. This rough negro, however well versed in corn meal, hominy and bacon, was not likely to prove a skillful manipulator of women’s wardrobes. Jealousies would arise and criminations follow. Again the clothing was almost entirely secondhand, sent hastily, and usually so out of repair as to be nearly useless for actual wear until overlooked, mended, strengthened and put into proper condition. How was this to be done? Thirty thousand people to clothe, winter at hand, little shelter, and almost no bedding—surely we could not undertake this labor. That a poor, untaught negro laboring women, would never of herself mend a hole, or sew on a button, even if she had a button, a needle, and thread, and a place to do it in. How to formulate some system by which this could be done, how to get them under intelligent direction, to get the women interested and into the work and the men out of it, for the committeemen were fast gaining in importance and influence among the other men by reason of patronage, a kind of “political pull,” one might say.

I struggled with this problem some days, until finally—it might have been the spirit of the Widow Bedott that come to my assistance—for suddenly there flits through my perplexed mind the idea of “sewing societies.” No amendment was required, and the resolution was put and motion carried in far less time than it had taken to evolve the idea. Word went out at once that the president of the Red Cross, accompanied by her staff, of ladies especially, would be pleased to meet the women of one of the most important islands; that the meeting would be held in the interest of the women; that they might consider it their meeting—but men were not forbidden—would they kindly appoint a day, and place of meeting, and the hour most convenient for themselves. The church which had been repaired was selected, and its clergyman notified us.

It was a sunny autumn day when our party crossed over the ferry and landed on the sandy beach of Coosaw, and took our pathways through the clumps of shrubs and trees, basking in the sunshine, but ripening and reddening with the dying year. Soon groups of women commenced to appear from the by paths and the little trails on either side, dressed in the best we had given them, and traveled on with cheery faces, full of expectation.

After a journey of perhaps two miles, the little “ractified” church came in sight, or rather would have come in sight but for the crowd of people gathered about it. The entrance was politely held clear for us. The little edifice, which would seat with its gallery perhaps two hundred persons, was packed with a waiting audience. The platform and desk had been reserved for the “extinguished visitors,” and we took our places. The entire space filled and echoed with the sweet, plaintive melody that the negro voice alone can give. This was followed by earnest prayer by the pastor; then a little speech of welcome by the elder, and we were introduced to our audience. And, who could ask a more attentive or sympathetic audience than this! The president, who has addressed some bodies of people, never stood before one that she enjoyed or honored more. Here was the simplicity of nature, the earnestness of truth, the innate trust in the love and care of the living God of Heaven that even its winds and waves could not shake, and the glorious spirit of resignation that could suffer and be glad, if not strong.

But to business. The situation was fully explained to them, and they were told that in spite of all we had for them, they alone could comfortably clothe themselves through the winter. Then the plan of a well arranged sewing society, with its constitution, laws, officers and regulations was explained, and their approval and co-operation asked. On a unanimous assent, they were required to select twenty-five women from among them, who should retire for twenty minutes and discuss the subject among themselves, selecting their chief officers, and so far as possible, give us the points of their organization.

In the body of women that rose and retired for consultation one saw good ground for hope of success. A part were the strong, matronly women, whose childhood and youth had been passed in the service of the hospitable home of the master in the old days of elegant luxury “’fo de wa’,” and who needed no one to teach them courtesy or what belonged to a family household; others were sewing girls, some of whom had partially learned trades, and a few were teachers, for the great majority of the children of ten years and upwards on these islands had been taught to read. These women needed only the proper instruction, encouragement, the way opened for them, the suitable material distributed, and the liberty of action and conscience, with no patronage or politics invading their premises.

The system formulated for one society became the system for all; each district which received rations of food had its regularly organized sewing society for the clothing sent to them on requisition. First some room was found, with a fire, shelves arranged for garments and tables for work. Of the twenty-five official women, each should give one week of her time in every month, but changing regularly in order that at no time should there be more than one-fourth of the number new to the work in hand. Four women should visit and inspect applicants for assistance, and two should attend entirely to the wants of the feeble and old and the sick, to see that they were in no way neglected.

Of those in the sewing room, a part cut over garments for children, as there are never enough of these; others repaired and mended. As the barrels and boxes went in from the committeemen, they were received and opened on one side of the room; when repaired they were placed on the shelves on the opposite side and given out from there on the recommendation of the visiting inspectors. Along with the clothing went thread, needles, pins, thimbles, wax, shears, knives and pieces for mending. For the bedding, besides two thousand heavy wool blankets which were donated, as many more purchased; cotton batting and calico, or muslin, by the ton were bought, and the societies instructed in tying “comforts,” which in many instances served as both cover and bed.

There was never any complaint with these women about the time given to, or the labor performed, in this service for the common weal, and seldom any difficulty arose between them. If so, a few words set it right, and the offending individual was discovered, pointed out, and put out of the society, with the usual explanatory remark: “She want too much rule; she done always do make trouble.” But whatever trials the day might bring to them, they were solaced and forgotten in the nice afternoon lunch, and the steaming cups of tea and coffee prepared by one of the members from the rations so wisely planned and faithfully sent by Mrs. Gardner.

Next to the absolute necessity for the distribution of food supplies, and the great essentials of life itself, I regard the sewing societies as perhaps the most important feature of the field. From these they learned not alone the lesson of self-help, but of mutual help, which they had never known before. It had never occurred to them to look about and see who was in need, and find a way to help it; and it was a glad satisfaction to hear their voluntary pledges when we left them, never to give up the custom of these societies, and the habit of caring for their poor.

Appended to Mrs. Gardner’s report are long, tiresome lists of names of recipients, which, however necessary and business like in their time and place, we may well spare the reader in these belated years; but one little list appeals to me with such loving interest, that I am constrained to ask the privilege of inserting it. It is a partial roll of the presidents of the sewing societies, of whose tireless, faithful work no adequate description could be given. And when we read among them the name of Mrs. Admiral Beardslee, and that missionary of scholarship and teaching on St. Helena, Miss Ellen Murray, the lovable and accomplished late wife of Robert Small, and Mrs. John MacDonald, who humbly and magnanimously placed themselves side by side with poor, unlettered, but honest and faithful Patty Frazier, and her kind, the reader will feel with me that it is indeed a roll of honor:

Christmas, which two months before had seemed but a veil of future blackness, opened bright and cheerful. Most of the churches had been in some way reopened, and Christmas Eve brought again its melody, its prayer and its praise.

There was in all this a Christian spirit, so sweet, so much to be commended, that I could not refrain from passing in my little contribution of a Christmas carol, for which they at once found a tune and sang it with a will. Light-hearted, happy race.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL.

For my 30,000 Sea Island Friends.

A Loving Greeting and Merry Christmas.—Clara Barton.