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Matagorda County 1854 Hurricane |
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The 1854 storm struck hardest at the mouth of Caney. Lots of cattle,
horses and sheep were drowned. A number of houses in Matagorda were
unroofed, and among them the old historic Episcopal Church the
Mother Church of Texas. Some sail boats were wrecked but no lives
were recorded lost.
Mrs. Harris Bowie was in Matagorda at the time of the hurricane. She
relates the events that she witnessed as a young girl.
The storm came up gradually. All at once there was a great crash as
if everything was going to destruction. There was a great rush to
the door. Mother looked back and saw that the lamp was still glowing
on the piano. The house was off the blocks. Across the street was
the Bowie family…We went to the Bowie home. Everyone was in the
parlor of the Bowie home.
The wind was blowing terribly. A dreadful crash came, then a flash
of lightning. There was a mad rush to get out of doors. I clung to
Mama. Everyone scattered. I slid along on the ground as I could not
walk. Harris Bowie, later my husband, was hugging the gate post when
a splinter went up his leg and he was crippled. During the scramble
for safety, with the wind blowing and howling, Mama saw a light…We
got to Mr. Chambers’ furniture store, where the light was. Mama gave
a feeble knock at the door and someone came. Many people were
already there. Mama was all bruised and was rubbed with lotion.
Suddenly a cry went up that the house was going. Mama finally left
the Chambers house, and went to the Colorado House owned by the
Hodges…Part of the hotel was blown away, the front part, and Mama
had to drag over these ruins. She was the first one to make her way
from one place to another during the storm.
We finally got to one place near where the Selkirk’s lived. After a
while the people scattered to the only houses that were still
standing.
Nurse had sister Bertha in her arms all the time during the storm.
The Bowie cook was crushed under the debris during the storm. Mary
or Mamie Bowie was wedged between two timbers. Mr. Cheesman proved
himself a hero the next day helping everyone.
The county court minutes of Monday, February 19, 1855, reflected yet
another effect of the storm to the welfare of Matagorda and the
county. During the gale in September last the Bayou St. Mary at
the Town of Matagorda became obstructed so as to prevent vessels
passing in and out with goods and produce…
A letter written to I. W. Runnels by Maclin L. Stith on February 27,
1855, described the economic setbacks caused by the 1854 hurricane.
Our crops last year promised to be good, but the storm in September,
besides doing a great deal of damage to buildings, almost totally
destroyed the crops within forty or fifty miles of the gulf.
Matagorda was all blown down except three houses, and though it is
being rapidly rebuilt it is thought the town will never arrive at
its former state. The blow lasted two to three days and although the
weather was cold and rainy only two or three lives were lost.
Besides the storm, we had a very wet fall which did great damage to
both cotton and corn crops and also injured the sugar cane.
John B. Phillips, while living in Matagorda, when he was about 15
years old, related his experience with the hurricane in a 1916
interview. In 1854, the worst storm which has ever visited Matagorda
came upon the town and destroyed most of the buildings. The
hurricane came first from the northeast leveling about two-thirds of
the houses, and damaging many others. But four homes in the town
escaped damage; they were the present home of Judge A. C. Burkhart,
the dwelling southeast of where Mr. Philips now lives, one near the
present depot, and the summer home of Col. R. H. Williams, a Caney
planter, and first alcalde for this county, and the present A. C.
Bruce dwelling. Only four or five people were killed; the only one
whose name he recalls being Mrs.____ Duffy, grandmother of Amos. The
wind veered around to the west and blew the water of the bay over
the town to the depth of a few inches, a boat 30 feet long being
carried to the center of town and against the fallen home of Wm.
Layton.
The Methodist congregation had a house of worship by November 11,
1851. The building was destroyed by the 1854 hurricane, which
leveled almost every building in town. Quoting from A History of
Early Methodism in Texas: …it is supposed that the roof of the
building was blown out to sea as it was never found.
Stephen R. Wright became rector of Christ Episcopal Church shortly
after the hurricane destroyed the first church in 1854. He begged
for money in the East to rebuild the church. The damage from the hurricane could be found in the settled areas of Matagorda County. The Robbins family suffered a loss as well. After Chester Robbins came to Texas, the two brothers imported lumber and built a comfortable frame home on Fredrick W.'s Colorado River land west of Matagorda. In 1854 Chester went to Rocky Hill, Connecticut, the ancestral home of the Robbins family in America, and married his distant cousin, Chloe Maria Theresa Robbins. They returned to Texas to find that the devastating hurricane had destroyed the home that Chester and Fredrick W. had built. Fredrick W. had salvaged lumber after the storm and built a two-room house which served as their temporary home while the beautiful three-story octagon-shaped house that was to become known as "Tadmor" was completed.
Robbins Letter of ’54 Tells of Storm Destruction
[The
letter below was written by F. W. Robbins to his brother, Chester
Hamlin in Petersburg, Va., about the disaster of the 1854 hurricane.
F. W. Robbins came to Matagorda County from Virginia in 1836.
Chester brought the letter back to Texas when he came. The letter
was the property of Palmer Robbins, grandson of F. W. Robbins and
was contributed by the Matagorda County Genealogical Society
publication Oak Leaves, Volume 9, No. 3, May 1990 by Barbara Stell,
great-granddaughter of F. W. Robbins.]
To: Chester H. Robbins
Tis sad “bad news travels quick” so I suppose this letter may reach
you soon to tell you of the misfortune which has happened to us and
the rest of our part of the world. Last week I made arrangements to
go down the Bay, had my honey taken and every thing ready. On
Saturday it began to rain, on Sunday continued raining, wind to
Eastward, blowing, quite a gale at night. Bill made a little fire in
the hearth and hung his shirt on a chair to dry. I staid up till it
had nearly burned out then went to bed, laid but little while, the
wind increased so I called Bill and went in the kitchen, stirred up
the fire and sat there, the shingles flying, could hear them strike
the kitchen. Soon Richard came in and said the wind had forced open
the house, had blown the papers and the shirt in the fire, the house
was just catching, he saw it from his house, he put the fire out but
said the house was going to pieces, soon the back of the kitchen
started, called Bill again and put in the storm, before I left the
house fortunately I took two blankets, got oil cloth jacket in the
kitchen, relocated the fire in the store, had to stop to put it out,
but didn’t get hurt, as the safest place. Found our way out by the
sheep pen crept round and got the door and a piece of wood for a
pillow wrapped in our blankets and laid down. Oh how cold and wet
when the rain struck our face twould sting almost like prickly heat.
Before night one sheep pen was down and the other partly so left the
sheep in the pasture. Well, during the night the wind lulled and
worked round by south to west and blew back as fiercely as before.
At last the day came, I raised up to look. The Flat was a sea
boiling like a pot, the horses were down in the swamp nearly up to
their backs in water. I could distinguish nothing else, but I was
thankful the wind had changed or the country might have been
drowned. As soon as it grew lighter, the wind abated a little and we
held on to our blankets and staggered toward the house. What a
picture, the face of the Earth a wreck, water on and in everything,
every house except the hen house smashed, fences flat, trees torn to
pieces from the twig in the garden to the big trees on the river,
the woods stript as naked as the depth of winter, some of the cows
gone with their calves down in the mud (3 died since), a few sheep
under the lower fence, a few on the river bank, some dead on the
other side, the remainder where the beehives strewed. The Negroes
had stayed in their house until it began to rock and then left,
nobody hurt. The first thing, then was to make a fire, but so wet.
The last box of matches I had put in a tin box and locked in my
desk, so I hunted in the wreck and found the desk all safe
fortunately, so we took the boat stove, went in the hen house. After
much trial got a fire, we “valued” the stove then, felt better tho
no dry clothes to be had, got something to eat, coffee and wrecked
bread, then went to work to set beehives up lest when it cleared off
they should drive us off the place, quantities of broken honey,
saved some of the best, tubs full and pans. In the wreck of kitchen
found head of one Bbl. Knocked in another leaking badly, vinegar
knocked about Well! We got all the sheep together we could find,
inside and out, no time to count them yet, but suppose there is the
rise of 150, have since found 115 dead, the storm drove them into
the water and drowned them on the West Flat, and when it changed it
drowned more in the river. On Tuesday the wind had changed to the
north and continued to rain untill Thursday and Friday, when by
intervals it cleared off. During all this time all things seemed
stricken with paralysis. Nobody came across the Prairie and not a
sail to be seen on the bay. Dr. Perry’s new house gone, the houses
across the bay gone. The Kate Ward was on Sunday with a lighter at
“dog island” but was not to be seen. Heigho. Well on Friday morning
one of the Powell’s Negroes came down to see us, reported all things
flat, but no one hurt, that was some good. In the evening John
Garnett came from Palacios [Point]. Grimes and Bridges and Oliver’s
houses gone, none hurt but Bridges baby which perished it the storm.
Mrs. Grimes was at the ranch have not heard from there yet. If none
were hurt then the Capt. will be here in a few days perhaps
tomorrow. He says there is 2 or 3 hundred head of cattle from toward
Karanchua dead thrown upon the shore at Palacios. But to go on, I
found one boat gone, the other sunk full of dirt and water, every
oar and piece of board gone from the bank, so I made a pair of oars
quick. He returned about noon, says Matagorda is smashed, but 3
sound houses left. The others torn every way, the Kate Ward sunk,
part of her in the Prairie above town, all hands gone but 3 who were
taken off one of the wheels. Tis supposed there is 15 killed, among
the rest Mr. Duffy and Gent Gordon’s Mother-in-law. The storm does
not seem to have reached as far back as Wharton, but I expect all of
our Coast is swept. Some one reports “Decrows” gone, 2 channels cut
across the Point, the shore strewed with cattle and sheep, a good
many of the Capt’s among them.
I cannot give you any further particulars now, I believe I have
taken chill and fever. I can hardly write any more. The fever is in
my head so, but Sanborn will go to town tomorrow and I must send the
letter. We are picking things to pieces and trying to dry the remains, but every little while there comes a shower and with them as bad as ever a body can hardly be thankful tis no worse. We have put up the fences to keep things in order. If I am well enough and get some nails from town, we will try to put up Richard’s house, the tool house, and maybe some part of the kitchen, no more until you return. If you have very urgent business don’t hurry yourself too much, but attend to it, tis a long way to go. If Polly Sue is willing tie her fast before you leave her. Oh, the long piece of wire fence stood first rate, the short is slack some. May be you had better write to Ed and Bradford if you know where they are. I knew the lower towns must be gone so what honey remained in the hives I gave to the bees again, could not take care of it, no use going there for a time yet.
Bill Powell says that Smith saved but 7 of those sheep he got from Bradford.
In the 1867 Registration of Voters for Matagorda Peninsula, the
registration showed the following living on the Peninsula. Joshua
Fisher, Fletcher Layton, Frederick Vogg, John Allen, August Duffy,
Gustav West, August Cole, Edward K. Wade, Peter Duffy, Henry
Cookenboo, Christian Zipprian, Benjamin Evans, Conrad Franz, Conrad
Dietrich, and Sebastian Dietrich.
The settlers worked hard as all pioneers have had to do and finally
began to prosper. All their toils, sufferings, and hardships were in
vain, however, for the storm in 1854 brought disaster to most all of
them. Those who escaped with their lives were lucky. The fortunate
few took refuge in the salt cedars, and remained all night in
company with snakes, raccoons, and other wild animals. Most of the
houses had been built with the kitchen away from the main part of
the house. One story of the storm concerns the family of John Berg,
who lived in such a house. The family was in the kitchen at the
storm's outbreak. Not feeling safe, they decided to move to the
supposedly stronger part of the building. While making their
decision, they saw the main part of the building being torn away. A
channel had been made across the Peninsula by the high water, a lamp
on the table marked the passage of the house down this channel into
the Gulf.
Another story is told in connection with this storm and a house of
similar construction. A woman started from the main part of the
house for the kitchen. The wind blew the baby which she carried in
her arms into the surging waters; the body was never found. The family of John Frederick Vogg, Sr. had just moved to the Peninsula six months before the 1854 hurricane. He owned 440 acres on the peninsula which he purchased in March 1854. Those on the peninsula who escaped with their lives were fortunate, but the storm brought disaster to all who lived on it. The settlement was rebuilt and for the next twenty years, the settlement continued.
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I think 'twas the 18th Sept, 1854--that with anxious eyes I scanned the horizon for my father's sail--as I closed the windows against the breeze which even then promised to become a blast. This was on Sabbath eve'g at 4 P. M. Father had been gone about a week to the Ranche up Trespalacios, near where his remains now rest, he had taken Mother away and 'twas my first experience in solitude and it had become very irksome, beside the norther which had been blowing all day and was a fair wind (the first since he left) for him to come home, was now increasing so much that I feared for his safety should he be out when 'twas at its height, and with the old glass which has borne him company through many a storm and cam I searched the northern bay for the well known bit of canvas that should herald his coming--my eyes were rewarded by the sight of the boat five or six miles away and with a sigh of relief I greeted my dog with the salutation 'well old Doctor, he'll be here before it blows a gale; and returned to my duties quite convinced that I'd nothing more to fear, yet I instinctively kept anxious watch of the boat and fastened the windows a little more securely and ran our of doors to tie up with extra care some pet plants of mothers for even then the wind was doing some damage among the more tender shrubs--And my unaccountable nervousness was much increased by the fact that 'Doctor' would not let me get a stone's throw away form him but persistently followed me indoors and out--upstairs and down with a piteous look in his almost humanly loving eyes--poor Doctor! Everything on that memorable Sabbath was peculiar--the air seemed a sort of haze of blueish tint sometimes hued with pink and wherever one moved about he seemed to be in a sort of vacuum immediately inclosed in a more rarified ether than the so to speak outside air. A queer sensation this produced a sort of an asleep an awake existence in two states, quite an indescribable state of the atmosphere and an equally indefinable state of feeling seemed to pervade all nature animate and inanimate. Puss, usually shy and preferring outdoors to in, she was a stray that came to me, seemed anxious to keep near me--but Doctor was her mortal terror and not daring to face him when I could no longer shelter her in my arms or need of attending to household duties, she sought shelter in fathers room huddles tight between a trunk which stood under his bed and the mattress--there she meowed piteously whenever I approached--which was not very often after I had seen that everything was secure for my time was occupied with domestic cares. Father had come in a very short time across the bay the storm was steadily but slowly increasing in violence yet I thought it only a hard norther and felt no fear. I think 'twas some time in the night rain commenced, the cold increased and Monday morning the yard looked very forlorn. A portion of the fence was down, smaller trees and many of the shrubs were uprooted and much of the time I spent out of doors with Doctor close by my side trying to right them. Father told me 'twas useless work but did not tell me any of his forebodings. Indeed, I think he only thought of the danger to shipping, as such a storm had never before visited Texas on land and I don't think he thought of what a hurricane could be on shore. By noon on Monday I had abandoned all idea of saving the shrubbery but yet had no thought of personal danger; not so Doctor. He fairly hindered my progress from room to room by jumping up on me and growling. His every demonstration seemed trying to tell me something. So troublesome did he seemed raving, giving such terrible howls as would make ones blood curdle and almost hanging himself in his efforts to get loose, which he did several times. At last, unable to hold out against his appeals, I gave him liberty to stay with me and that he did until fate separated us. Poor Doctor, I suspect that lonely hour or more out of doors added ten years to his two. The wind had increased frightfully toward nightfall and the rain fell so densely that we could not see far. Just before nightfall, our nearest neighbor sought protection with us. Capt. Bridges and my father were old friends, and indeed we all esteemed the Captain highly but his wife and I had quarreled so that I had forbidden her in the house. Father so far sympathized with my animosity that he left me to say whether we should receive them or no. Truth compels me to say I'd not have been sorry to refuse Mrs. B. a kindness. I did hate her so cordially and for long after until I learned that her mind was wholly unbalanced. I must forgive a crazy person anything, but an unprovoked blow from a sane person, never. Whilst we took our tea the front gallery was blown off and striking the kitchen broke in the windows. This created a momentary panic but with the damage temporarily repaired, we finished our meal and proceeded to investigate the extent of injuries. We found the shingles fast leaving the roof...the upper windows had to be barricaded. Capt. Bridges' house had settled into a shapeless mass not more than four or five feet high on the ground and whether the others were gone we could not see. We took bedding below stairs and huddled the children together on a sofa where they disposed themselves to rest as best they could. Just at dark the top of the chimney came tumbling into the kitchen with a noise and clatter worthy of a greater catastrophe. By the time 'twas impossible to keep lights the wind found so many ways of ingress so I lighted lanterns and hid my matches in the coffee mill as a sure place to keep them dry, for the rain speedily followed the wind into the house thro' broken windows and holes which flying timbers had made. A little time later as the parlour north door was burst in, Capt. B and Father sprung to catch it. By the exertion of all their united force they succeeded in holding it whilst I crept out the south door to get a plank to nail it...this after hurried consultation being decided to be the best plan. I got out easily and went the length of the kitchen without much difficulty, bracing myself to face wind and rain so I turned the corner of the house which was to my right and suddenly felt myself struck in the left side. Clutching whatever my hands could reach I found on feeling about that I'd been lifted from my feet and blown about ten feet against a fence post from which all the fencing had been blown off. Gathering my wits, I crawled for the board pile and securing a couple of planks which I dragged after me I wriggled back to the house which I couldn't see but knew as soon as I got in the lee of it on account of not feeling the force of the gale. 'Twas now I lost my dog, I had forbidden Mrs. B. letting him out but he made so much ado she did, and whether he, like me, was blown off, I don't know but he wasn't on hand to go in with me and if he howled a death warning at the door, it could not have been heard. 'Twas only by screaming we made each other heard in the house and that only by placing mouth and ear in close proximity. I was out of doors, I presume not more than two minutes at the utmost but I was drenched thro' and thro', and after securing the door, took a lantern and went upstairs to find dry raiment. The parlour where all were congregated was the centre room in the house and still dry and well protected from the cold which was not severe when not exposed to wind and rain. The upstairs desolation met my astonished gaze. The north side of the roof I think hadn't a shingle on it, the water was pouring in in torrents, not a bed was dry nor an article of clothing which had been in use, which proved a blessing to me. I was driven to reserves stores packed away and found nothing dry until I stirred down to mother's winter clothing. From this I selected the first that came to hand for I had grown timid being upstairs long and, for the first time, feared the total destruction of the house. Securing a quilted petticoat, an enormous sack made of serge and lined with domestic flannel, wadded two blankets and a quilt, I hurried downstairs. It seemed so much quieter, so warm and dry in the parlor that my fears subsided. Indeed, if Father had been with me I presume I would have felt none upstairs, for I was accustomed to kno'ing of his battling with and outriding storms so long that without much reasoning on the matter I didn't exactly think he could and would manage them pretty well. That faith has not left me yet, nor centred in any other mortal and I never now treat wind and tide as heedlessly as I used to. When I sailed with him, fearlessly holding the helm myself, when as I've heard my Father say some sailors would have been nervous, I had no anxieties. I busied about things which demanded a little care in the kitchen and parlour and stopped only long enough to exchange my wet clothes for dry ones not waiting to put on my stockings, and when a leisure moment came, I curled upon the sofa with my feet under me to warm then when suddenly, with a mighty lurch and thud, the house came down off the supports with about three feet of fall. Mrs. B, who had long been clamorous that we should leave the house, now became frantically urgent. Father, to whom I had submitted the matter, thought best not and I refused to go but now that she became so clamorous I told her to go if she chose. I'd had enough of out doors and should stay in so long as Father did, he said wait for one more lurch and so we waited. The fall had ripped up the floors on one side inching them greatly...the furniture was moved and we again south refuge in the kitchen as being the higher frame and likely to give more chance of escape in case the walls should fall in. In the melee, I'd no time to put on my stockings but kept my feet in the dry shoes (mother's) and huddles under the stairway close to the partition, we stood waiting for the next blast. The hurricane came in gusts, blowing a steady gale all the time and we would get an extra rush which seemed to be solid substance driving against all opposing matter like a battering ram. I judge it must have been about 10 p. m. when the house went off its supports and I was that time quite adept at reckoning time from long practice with my Father, either by appearance of the sun, the moon or even without any guide. It might have been a half hour, more or less, before the next gust struck us that thumped the devoted old shanty something as you've seen a card box drawer with vigorous jumps over the carpet when so little one's baby was taking a ride in a carriage without wheels. How far we traveled we couldn't judge then but next day's investigations proved that the house made a journey of twenty feet, stopping in a considerably lame condition just south of where 'twas built. Father then yielded to the demand to leave it, though I think even then he was rather inclined to stick to the wreck...we got out the south door and I furnished Mrs. B with a bed quilt, took a blanket myself and gave one to the children. Outside, we stopped in the lee of the house to decide what to do. 'Twas arranged that Father and I, with one of Capt. B's children, should head the way with the two children in the middle and Capt. B and wife with their baby should bring up the rear. Thus formed, and planning on keeping huddled together, we started off guided by the wind at our backs, for Mrs. Ward's house, thinking of it as being so low as to be out of line of the gale. We had just started out when my blanket was torn off and the lantern which I had sheltered under was now without protection and the light was at once extinguished. We now were in palpable darkness as we stood, not able to see each other, I felt something cold on my hand and closing my fingers about it, it proved to be Doctor's nose. I suppose the flash of my lantern as my blanket left me disclosed us to the faithful watcher. We made a few steps before we were beyond the lee of the house and the wind blew us all into a pile in the water. I lost my shoes, which slipped off easily, but I felt around until I found them. Gathered up, we started once more but without knowing much about our order, 'twas so pitchy dark nothing was visible, neither your hand before your face nor your neighbors head. By using the entire force of their lungs, Father and Capt. B could understand each other, accustomed as they had been as sea Captains to roar down the wind but 'twas useless for landsmen to try to see or hear. The second time we started off again, we found
ourselves flying thro' the air or sprawling in the water. 'Twas
difficult to tell which, for the rain fell not in drops but sheets
of water. How we breathed I don't know for it seemed just like one
continuous torrent pouring over us and the wind, as I said before,
seemed a solid wall. However, we began to feel for ourselves and at
last after many fruitless efforts to find anything, I clutched my
Father's foot which I held on to until I had fished up my shoes. I
then began to feel about me to determine how many others I could
find but Father and the child he held to were all that were there.
He shouted with all his might but heard to answer and Capt. B told
us the next day that he too had used all his strength to make us
hear but without avail. Father, the child, the dog and I were all
that remained of our company, so far as we knew until morning. |
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Matagorda County 1875 Hurricane
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In 1875
the month of September once again produced a storm. The residents of
Matagorda County had rebuilt after the 1854 hurricane and 20 years
later were once again their lives and livelihoods were threatened.
The area
of Texas between the San Bernard River and old Indianola received
the most disastrous effects to lives and property. Even though
Matagorda was not the direct target of the storm, several buildings
were damaged. The peninsula sustained losses to property and lives
as described by J. Morgan Smith.
On the upper part of Matagorda Peninsula the entire family of Alex
Forstier were wiped out. There were several children in his family
of eight and all were drowned except himself. The Wm. “Billy”
Mitchell entire family were drowned, also a Miss Lizzie Raymond who
was visiting them at that time. Three of the Decrow family living on
the west end of the Matagorda Peninsula near the light house were
all drowned. From Pass Cavallo on around the Matagorda Bay to
Indianola where it struck with terrific force and destroyed about
half of that old town. It also unroofed a lot of houses in
Matagorda, including the old historic Episcopal Church.
D. E. E.
Braman related the plight of the Decrow family as they rode out the
storm on the peninsula.
Thomas (or Capt.) Decrow had a large substantially built two story
dwelling house, convenient outhouses and as a haven of refuge in
stormy weather a structure designed and fastened together by an
expert ship carpenter. The precaution was also taken to extend the
corner posts six feet into the ground and to each a crosspiece as
bottom, called anchoring. On the night of the hurricane of 1875
Capt. Decrow and his family who were at home, together with
neighbors, kindred and servants—22 persons in all—sought safety in
the storm house. But in this asylum they met their doom for the
anchor posts were completely dug out of the ground by revolving
currents of water and the building an inmates swept to destruction
while the unsecured dwelling house that rested on the surface of the
ground was not entirely destroyed.
The
account of the Decrow family continues in the following account:
Thomas,
Lucretia, Sarah Decrow Humphrey, Robert, and Rebecca Decrow Cherry
all drowned when the hurricane of September 17, 1875 destroyed the
Decrow house. The house was built and designed to withstand Texas
storms. Several friends and neighbors joined the family to ride out
the storm, most of them also perished. The violence of the storm
washed out the anchor posts of the house drowning those that
sheltered there. Cordelia, nicknamed “Ting”, survived the storm
because she and her family apparently stayed at their
house. According to the September 24, 1875 edition of the
Victoria Advocate Olivia, nicknamed “Todd”, survived the storm
as she was staying with a sick friend in Saluria, and Thomas W.
Decrow survived. The Advocate indicated that Thomas or
“Phut” Decrow was swept away but was rescued. The Decrow family oral
history does not include the story about Thomas, nor does his
obituary mention the story. Both the family oral history and
Olivia’s obituary indicate that Olivia was swept away and
rescued. She was staying on Matagorda Island with Mrs. Nicholls, the
sick friend. The Nicholls house was destroyed and according to
Olivia’s obituary published in the Williamson County Sun,
thirteen people perished. Henry Nicholls, the son, and Olivia
floated off on the roof and grabbed a wooden gutter to stay
afloat. The gutter kept them afloat until they reached a small
island, which contained a single small cedar tree. They clung to the
tree until morning when they were rescued by Captain S. K. Brown.
The three surviving siblings relocated to Georgetown, Williamson,
Texas, after the storm.
John B.
Phillips, Jr. married Miss Lucy Swartz on December 6, 1869 at
Indianola. They made their home on the peninsula opposite Matagorda,
from 1855 to 1875, where he continued the farm and stock business.
The family were in the disastrous storm of 1875, when they lost all
their stock and possessions except about 118 head of sheep. It was
about daylight when the wind attained its greatest velocity and the
water came over the peninsula in one great tidal wave four to six
feet high. The salt cedars around the home proved a great protection
to them, and, due to their breaking the force of the wave, no doubt,
the family suffered no loss of life. In fact, there was no loss of
life in that immediate locality, but there was further up the
peninsula, 15 to 30 miles. The water remained on the peninsula about
an hour.
John
Frederick Vogg, Sr. and his family were also residents on the
peninsula and endeavored to flee to safety before the storm made
landfall. They boarded their sloop to leave for the mainland. The
sloop was caught in a wave and flipped on its side leaving the mast
connected to the sloop and touching the bank. Hannah, holding Mary
Ann’s hand, started walking across the mast when the sloop uprighted
itself and threw Mary Ann into the water. Hannah grabbed the mast
and held on. The family could not find Mary Ann so they went to seek
shelter. John and Mary continued to search for the body after the
storm. They met some people who had found the body of the little
girl and had buried her. The dress Mary Ann had on fit the
description of the dress on the body, so they always thought it was
Mary Ann. After the storm the family moved to the mainland.
The Berg
family built him a home on the peninsula, facing the Gulf, and lived
there until after the fearful storm of ’75. In that storm the house
was washed into the gulf, the family barely escaping with their
lives. Sam Berg, merchant at Matagorda, tells us the story, in
substance as follows: The wind from the east blew the gulf water
over the peninsula till it covered almost every portion of the land,
and as it got two and three feet deep it washed drift in the land
similar to the two cuts across the peninsula by the storm of last
August. One of these happened to be under the edge of the Berg home.
The family becoming alarmed, escaped to a knoll near by which was
still above water, and just in time to see the two story house drift
away into the gulf, in the moonlight, and away out on the rolling
deep they could see the light in the windows from the lamp which in
the hurry was left burning on the table.
John
Berg, at the time was with Mr. Eidlebach, moving cattle over across
the bay on the mainland, about the mouth of Caney, and starting
home, encountered many difficulties. He couldn’t get further than
the Sargent place, and the cattle drifted so, he finally had to let
them go and made his way home to find the house gone, and the family
at the home of Mr. Williams. Next morning he secured a boat at Mr.
Peter Duffy’s and went up to the Williams home where he found his
parents and brothers, all rejoiced to realize that none had been
lost in the frightful storm.
On September 29, 1875, Eliza Fisher, another resident of Matagorda,
wrote to her son, Samuel Fisher, describing her experiences with the
storm. Matagorda, Sept. 29th 1875 My Beloved Son – We have passed through such horrors, since I last wrote to you, that I feel now as if I were waking from a horrible nightmare. You have seen from the papers, accounts of the storm that commenced on the 15th inst. & lasted furiously until the 17th. No pen can describe all the horrors of such a storm & I will not attempt it. I little expected to live to go through another storm such as we had in 1854, but I have done so – for though we have not lost our house – my sufferings mentally were greater, for having passed through one, I knew what to expect – hour after hour, we faced death, not knowing what moment would be our last. After the kitchen & outhouses blew down, we were afraid to remain longer in the house, for the dining room was wrenched from the main house, & we expected every minute that it would go, & of course expected the gallery to be blown off. We then dreaded to be in the house with no means of getting out, in case this part of the house went. So about 9 o’clock at night, we went out & faced the pitiless storm. We could not keep our feet, but by holding to each other, were blown along & managed to get over to the next house & found a number huddled together in the kitchen. We only staid a few minutes there, when the windows & doors of the main house blew in & we had to go out again. Fred & Nettie were afraid to go into another house & more over it blew & rained so awfully that we could not walk against it, so we decided to come into our own yard again & go into the chicken house! So 14 of us, seven grown persons & 7 little children, crowded into it. We had hardly gotten out of that house when the whole side to the north east was blown off. What horrors we can go through & yet live!!! It makes me shudder even to write about it, & yet dear son our sufferings & danger was nothing compared to those on the Peninsula & at Indianola, where they had the water to contend with; whole families drowned & hundreds getting off with only their lives, every thing they owned lost!!! I can write no more, as I want to send this by the mail. Matagorda is blown down. Our house is about the least damaged in town, but it will take a $100.00 to repair it & the house next door. Mrs. Wright is staying with us. Her house blew entirely down & she had no place to go. The poor suffering people from the Peninsula were brought over, every one had to share clothes & bedding with them, that had any thing to spare & find some sort of shelter for them. Provisions are scarce, we live on plain bread & meat & are thankful to get it. No boats have been able to get to Indianola for flour, for all our lighters lay capsized in the Bason. These are dreadful times!!! We have not had a line from your for two weeks, of course we could get no mails. I hope to hear soon & to hear that our house will soon be ready, for I can tell you – we all want to leave the coast. Love to dear Walter. God bless you – Your Affect. Mother The Sargent family lived happily in the area of Matagorda County now known as Sargent until September 17, 1875, when both George and his daughter-in-law, Sarah Ann were drowned during the hurricane and ensuing tidal wave which struck the Texas coast. John had been away on a cattle drive and was nearing home when he received the news of the storm and hurried home to his family. During the night the water started coming into the house and he placed his family on top of the dining room table. However, the side of the house collapsed and the rushing water swept the table and the family out into the storm. John and one of his helpers placed the children in trees. When daylight came, he found his children safe, but his father and his wife had drowned. George Sargent and Sarah Ann Sargent were buried in the Sargent Cemetery located near Sargent, Texas.
Margaret Martha Moore Kuykendall, daughter of Capt. W. E. Moore and Mary C. Swift, was the wife of Robert Gill Kuykendall. Robert Gill was the son of Wiley Martin Kuykendall and Susan Pierce Kuykendall. The following account was from her memory as a child at the time of the hurricane. There are no vivid memories until September 1875 when the great storm almost destroyed Indianola. In those days there was a great unrest in that county. The night of the storm my father happened to be home and my Aunt Dora. Our house was small, one large room downstairs and porch on east and shed on the west. The stairs to the half-story went up on the outside on the north. I really do not remember the house then so well, but there was a kitchen north of the house. I think the wind began to blow in the afternoon, but everyone went to bed. Aunt Dora was in the upstairs. The first I remember was during the night when the wind blew the door open on the east porch, and the rain poured in. My father nailed the door shut with a board and hatchet and nails. The wind blew. The little house shook, and soon Aunt Dora came down from above, and we all huddled in one room. About five in the morning we heard a voice saying hello and asking if everyone was all right. Our neighbor, Grandpa Elliott, who lived a mile away, had braved the storm to see what damage had happened to us. I have only a vague memory of the days after. Our kitchen had blown off the blocks. The roofs from some of the outbuildings and limbs from the huge oaks were around. My father then had a boat that carried freight and passengers when there were any. My grandfather and mother lived in Indianola with a brother and his family. They were all very anxious as there were no telephones or telegraphs to carry the news. As soon as the storm subsided, he went to Indianola. My grandfather was drowned, and their house was washed away. I will tell you my grandmother's story as near as I can. The wind blew; the rain came in dashes and sheets, and the water rose higher and higher. My grandfather and mother and a niece went upstairs. There were some large cedar trees near the house. The house began to shiver and move. Grandmother got some sheets and planned to go to the cedar tree and tie themselves to the tree. She opened the door, and she saw that there was a plank going over to the tree. She never knew how it had got there. She called to her husband and her niece to follow her, but they did not come. She tied herself to the tree with the sheet. As the water rose higher, she moved higher. The wind and water lashed her and tore her clothes off, but she kept hanging on. I cannot remember how long she said she was in the tree, but the water went down, and she got down. She saw a house standing, wrapped rags about her and went to her friend's house. They took her in and fed her and put her to bed, and she slept. She had no idea what had become of her family. Her husband was found dead. Some prowlers found a wardrobe face down on the floor that was still intact. They heard a little noise and ran away. Finally they turned the wardrobe over and inside was a girl, alive. This girl was my grandmother's niece. So this is what my father found; his father gone and their house and all their belongings gone. Well, he brought them home with him. Corrine, the niece stayed with us and Grandmother, after a time, went to keep house for the uncle that used to peddle dry goods and notions. He had gone into another business at a point on the Colorado River called Elliott's Ferry.
Damage to
Matagorda County occurred as far inland as Blessing as told in the
following account of the Masonic Lodge.
Jonathan
Pierce established Tres Palacios Masonic Lodge in 1874. Its name
would later be changed to Blessing Masonic Lodge. The Grand Lodge of
Texas granted a Charter under Dispensation on January 29th, then a
full charter and the number 411 on June 8 of 1874. Soon after the
Lodge was chartered, the Masons built a new two-story lodge building
on the grounds of the church and cemetery, near Pierce’s land. It
was completed by at least 1875, since sources say the Tres Palacios
Baptist Church building was destroyed in the 1875 hurricane and the
congregation met on the first floor of the new Masonic hall until
their replacement church was built in 1893.
After the
hurricane of 1875, most of the inhabitants of the peninsula decided
that rebuilding once again would be futile and moved to the
mainland. Many moved to Matagorda where their families would be
safer and escape from future storms would be easier. |
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Matagorda County 1886 Hurricane
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The
hurricane season of 1886 was devastating to the Texas coast. Three
hurricanes, in August, September and October made landfall in Texas.
The
first, August 18 – 20, 1886 destroyed the town of Indianola. It had
only been 11 years since the 1875 hurricane and there would be no
rebuilding after 1886. All of the buildings were destroyed and
property and dead animals were strewn along the coastal plain. Most
residents chose to move inland rather than suffer through another
storm.
The
effects of the storm were felt north to Galveston and practically
destroyed the village of Quintana. The storm was felt inland in
Victoria, Beeville, Cuero, Floresville, LaGrange and Goliad.
The
second hurricane on September 22-24th, struck at
Brownsville and once again Indianola suffered damage.
The third
on October 12-13th, made landfall on the upper Texas
coast and caused destruction in Orange, Sabine Pass and Beaumont
areas.
The
primary damage to Matagorda during the season of 1886 was from the
August hurricane. The following letter gives a first-hand account of
Matagorda residents who were visiting on Matagorda Peninsula when
the storm struck.
This
letter was from Margaret Jane Yeamans Bruce to her brother, Daniel
W. Yeamans, who lived in Tilden, McMullen County, Texas. Daniel W.
Yeamans was the great-grandfather of Malcolm R. Dixon. After the
death of Daniel’s wife, Frances Viola Green Yeamans who died on
February 14, 1885, he took his two daughters, Reid and Olivia “Babe”
to Matagorda to stay with his sister, Margaret, thus the reason they
were with her during the hurricane.
Lt. Col.
(Ret.) Malcolm R. Dixon contributed the letter to the July 1983
issue of the Matagorda County Genealogical Society publication,
Oak Leaves.
Matagorda
My Dear Brother,
I don’t
feel much like writing this morning but knowing you will be so
anxious to hear from me I feel I must write a few lines to say we
are all saved if nothing more.
We went
to the Peninsula on Tuesday the day after going fishing as expected
and walked across the house that day for the first time. We had a
delightful time till the 19th. A south east wind sprung
up and blowed a perfect gale. We saw the Gulf rising the breakers
dashing as high. The sight was beautiful to behold.
The day
before Dr. Griffith, wife and three children, Miss Mary McNabb and
two of McNabb’s children, Josia Sargent, Lilly Englehart
[Inglehart], Jacob Smith all came over on a fishing frolic, also
Elias Yeamans and were caught over there.
The wind
blew from North all morning. About noon it got to the north East and
the Gulf began to rise very rapidly. At dark it began to look pretty
squally for us though we did not apprehend much damage as it was
August. As we thought not the time of the year for a storm.
The wind
blew firm and loud all night. The Gulf roared loud and the waves
washed high. Just as day broke we then saw something had to be done
right at once to save ourselves while it was yet dark. Charlie run
over to the Cedars to see what the chances were there. By the time
he came back the breakers began to dash through the house. The word
was given to make a start. We began to fall out in the water near
waist deep. The waves dashing around us as well as a gale of wind to
contend with. There was 28 of us in number and 13 were children. On
leaving the house the screams and yells of the children were
terrible. Frank just went wild. We had to hold him. No telling what
he would have done and Read was near as bad. Charlie took me and
Frank sent Jim out by himself but he soon blew away and caught by
us.
Elias
took baby and Mary took Reid. We soon reached the Cedars. The
distance of near a quarter of a mile. We found a spot where the
water did not cover but while we were sitting there taking a lunch
and discussing the matter, it seemed all in one rush the water
covered the ground where we were sitting and then we moved to
another place when the same thing was repeated. By this time Dr.
Griffith and Arthur had their families up in the trees. Charlie
thought Mrs. Mitchell awkward and myself too weak to climb a tree.
But I saw the time had come for another effort to save ourselves.
Charlie gave me one longing look and remarked, “I have done all I
can and what else can I do?” I told him at once to put us up in the
cedars. They got Mrs. Mitchell up first, much easier than they
imagined and as for myself, you have no idea how I can climb at such
a time though weak as I was and occasionally through the water I
would come down on my knees. I stood it about as well as some of the
stronger ones. I guess we sat up in the cedars about four hours.
The wind
hauled a little to the South. The water went down and I began to get
cold and got down and Charlie and Dr. Griffith took me to a little
house where George Bedford staid as the water did not come up so
high as it was not much damaged. They left it the day before and
went up to Mr. Willie Zipprians when the storm began.
We lost
every vestige of our clothing, bedding and provisions and every
thing we had over there. I took off my clothes and wrung the water
out of them and put them on again. We had two hams and some little
bread we had taken to the cedars and hung up in case we should lose
every thing and a jug of water for every cistern and water hole was
filled with salt water.
We then
went up to Zipprians as we expected to blow from the West which
would bring the bay water over the Peninsula deeper then the Gulf
and they had very large cedars which they arranged seats in case it
should come. We spent the night there and some of the men kept watch
while the other slept. Then there were 47 of us together. Mr.
Zipprian had half barrel flour after dipping the water out and sweet
potatoes with our two hams we fared sumptuously. They hunted water
till they found a mound where the water did not cover, where they
succeeded in getting good fresh water.
On
Saturday morning the Tidal Wave came after us. Then we were
happy and were not long in getting aboard. We reached Matagorda in a
short time and were met on the bayou by about one hundred people.
There we were in our rags and dirt, some bare headed while others
were in rags and bare footed. The house where we staid was a
complete wreck and moved back about 50 yards. We doubtless would
have been washed out had we staid there. All the drift, great large
logs, boats and wood and lumber of every description is right here
in town. In front of us and all along the bay shore for miles is
filled with such, besides dead cattle and sheep in great quantities.
They had to haul them off and burn them, all from the Peninsula.
There is no logs or drift left on the beach. Indianola is a complete
wreck and a great loss of lives and property. Dr. Louis was drowned
in trying to get something out of the house.
You will
have to send me about 30 or 40 dollars for the children have lost
all their clothing and will have to begin from the beginning,
besides Reid will be going to school and will have to have good warm
clothes for the winter. I took all the clothes the children had
because I did not want to have washing done while I was over there
for the water was bad.
We are
all thankful we came out alive. I took two bedsteads and lost them
both and everything else according. I will close with much love to
Sister Annie and family and much love for your self and if you
should imagine that you would like a good salt bath, try and make it
convenient to be over on the beach in a good storm. Your loving Sister
M. J. Bruce
Babe says write a letter |
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Copyright 2017 -
Present by Carol Sue Gibbs |
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| Created Sep 10, 2017 |
Updated Sep. 13, 2018 |
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