“rain poured down in torrents” — Maryland State Quarter Coin

Today, the Maryland State Quarter Coin remembers the Great Flood of July 24, 1868.

In the History of Maryland, Volume III, published in 1879, John Thomas Scharf described the disastrous events:

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On July 24th, 1868, there was an extraordinary fall of rain all over the State, producing at many points disastrous floods.

Scarcely a bridge was left standing on any considerable stream; and many houses, mills, and other buildings were swept away.

The Patapsco river rose with unprecedented rapidity, and in about twenty minutes became a swollen and furious torrent sweeping everything before it. Trees, masses of timber and other debris were swept down with tremendous force.

So rapid was the rise of the water that many persons barely escaped from their houses on the high banks in time to see their dwellings carried away by the rush of waters and the impact of the floating masses of wreck.

Others were seen on the roofs of their tottering houses, making piteous signs of supplication for the help which no mortal arm could render, until the rushing waters swept them away. Children perished in the sight of their parents, and wives before the eyes of their husbands.

At Ellicott City, on the right bank of the Patapsco, the flood was most destructive. Thirty-two buildings were here swept away, and forty-three lives lost.

The flood at Baltimore rose to a height never known before; although owing to the topography of the Patapsco and Jones’ Falls basins, it is particularly liable to inundations.

Jones’ Falls coming from the hilly country to the northwest, runs for miles on its winding course through the very centre and heart of Baltimore, from its northwestern to its southwestern limits; and whenever the narrow banks are swollen by sudden freshets, becomes incapable of retaining its boundaries, and widens out in the low lands into small lakes, submerging the cellars of stores and dwellings, whilst some of the streets in its neighborhood are converted into rivers, with water enough in places to float schooners and steamboats.

On July 24th, the rain poured down in torrents from early in the morning, and about mid-day the Falls rose with great rapidity, soon overflowing walled banks, backing into numerous contiguous streets, and penetrating dwellings, stores and basements, creating great alarm and damaging and sweeping off property, carrying away bridges, etc.

One of the city passenger railway cars in passing from Gay street bridge, filled with passengers, was caught by the flood when opposite Harrison street, and was lifted by the force of the current from the track and carried down the street.

As it swept along, all the passengers but one were rescued and the car finally lodged against the front of the Maryland Institute, a total wreck.

To one standing at the corner of Frederick and Baltimore streets about two o’clock, the scene was truly distressing.

The flood had now swollen into an angry torrent that rushed furiously down the beds of Harrison and Frederick streets. At the corner of Harrison and Baltimore streets, the water was within one foot of the top of the street lamp.

From time to time masses of timber and wood, boxes, barrels, railroad ties, articles of household furniture, fencing, trees, wagons, out-houses, and in short, all manner of debris from the wreck and ruin along the line of the Falls came sweeping down the fearful current, and piling up in front of the Maryland Institute, in this way a sort of break-water was formed, protecting that building against the beating of the surge that swept down Harrison and Frederick streets.

The water soon after this was seen to dash over the bed of Baltimore street bridge, driving the people assembled there in wild confusion toward High street.

About this time word came that Gay street bridge was seriously threatened, and in attestation of this report there was soon a flood of water pouring down Gay street, and shortly thereafter the backwater came in large volumes down Holliday street also.

Language is almost inadequate to describe the scene that was now witnessed.

The surface of the angry flood was fairly covered with every description of material, telling sadly and painfully of the immense loss, destruction and distress that this disaster was occasioning.

Now the porch of a house, now the contents of some store, now the timbers of the bridges and warehouses, would come down dashing along with fearful force, driving up against buildings, crushing window-glass in the first floor and bursting in doorways.

The effects of the flood were very severely felt on North street, and from the high ground near the city hall excavation, just south of Lexington street, the water covered the whole extent of the street northward towards Eager street, flooding every building.

In some places, from near Pleasant street northward, the water was fully ten to twelve feet deep. The residents of the small dwellings in the neighborhood were obliged to take refuge in the upper stories of their dwellings and some made very narrow escapes.

Holliday street also came in for a large share of the overwhelming flood. The water extended the whole length of this street, even across the elevated portion of it at Fayette street, and thence passing down into Baltimore street.

In front of the theatre the water rose above the sills of the doors, and thence extended in a broad sheet across the street to the new city hall excavation, which was quickly filled, the water rushing into it with great volume, presenting the appearance of a mill-dam.

Northward, the whole length of the street was like an angry river, and the occupants of the small houses above Saratoga street were in no little peril. Some of them were rescued from the upper windows by persons in boats The whole appearance of this region was so changed by the action of the water that even one tolerably familiar with the locality could scarcely recognize it.

On the opposite or eastern bank of the Falls many of the small dwellings had completely disappeared, and on the west side those that were left standing as the water subsided, were in ruins, as though an earthquake had shattered them.

Just above Bath street bridge, which disappeared at an early stage of the flood, a frame dwelling on the west side of the Falls was lifted bodily from its foundations and carried out into the stream with all its contents, and soon became a wreck, its shattered fragments joining the mass of madly rushing timbers, boxes and household goods continually passing down the current.

Near where the above-mentioned house stood was a whiskey distillery, which was also entirely destroyed, nothing being left of the establishment but a mass of ruins. All the whiskey in the stills and in the bonded warehouse was swept down the Falls.

The Centre Market, under the Maryland Institute, was completely swept out, scarcely a box or a stall being left in the whole building. The blocks of the upper market, except those that were swept out into the basin, were piled up upon those in the lower markets, presenting a scene of confusion.

The stores upon both sides of the market were in a terrible condition, the water having reached the ceilings, and a large portion of their stock was utterly destroyed.

On the west side of the market and on Second street the pavements were torn up, and in some places the earth washed out to the depth of three or four feet.

At the foot of the market on Pratt street, the earth caved in at the head of Long dock, taking with it half of the bed of Pratt street. Five dead bodies were fished out of the Falls and along the streets.

The immense body of water that poured with such terrific force down Marsh Market Space, Frederick street and Gay street into the wharves at the south side of Pratt street, can scarcely be described.

The bed of the street was uprooted and carried away, the enormous stones forming the coping at the edge of the wharves torn up as if they were mere pebbles, and tossed on edge and transversely so that the water pouring over them formed a cataract the width of the streets, and swept downward into the docks with a roar that could be heard a considerable distance.

This was especially the case at the foot of Centre Market Space, where, from Dugan’s wharf on one side, and McElderry’s wharf on the other, the torrent of angry turbid water rushed onward with a force that carried down huge beams and rafters, barrels of whiskey, beef and pork, and where it poured over the head of the destroyed dock was converted into a cataract that can be likened to nothing but a miniature Niagara.

Down this stream there came a number of staves, probably twenty-five thousand; a short distance further down the dock they caught against some huge pieces of lumber that had become fixed across it.

In this way a strong boom was formed, and as the piled up mass of debris grew greater, it made a bridge on which a person could cross dry-shod from shore to shore.

It was supposed at first that all the bridges over the Falls had been swept away, but fortunately this was not the case, though the few that were left standing were all greatly damaged.

The stone bridge at Eager street stood firm, but the flood undermined the eastern abutment so dangerously, that a policeman was stationed there to warn all persons to cross quickly, as the bridge might yield at any moment.

The Charles street bridge was swept entirely away, the abutments having yielded to the force of the torrent. The structure was soon dashed to pieces, and came down with the mass of debris against the Monument street bridge.

The pressure of debris and its damming of the flood at Monument street, soon caused the water to rise and flow over the bed of that structure, and in a few minutes after it floated from its abutments and was dashed into fragments.

The Madison and Centre street bridges, the Hillen street and the Swann street bridges soon after gave way and were swept down the current, the abutments and approaches to those fine structures being entirely destroyed.

The Belvidere bridge was not injured, it having withstood all the floods for fifty years.

The firm iron bridge at Fayette street was also swept off. The abutments gave way about half-past one o’clock, and the iron superstructure crumbled into a thousand fragments.

The three principal bridges in the centre of the city, those over Gay street, Baltimore street and Pratt street, were all badly damaged, and were only in a condition for foot passengers to cross.

The scene at Gay street bridge after the water subsided was of the most appalling character, and showed the cause of such an immense flood having forced its way into Harrison and Frederick streets.

When the flood was at its height the debris from the five bridges that were washed away above Gay street massed itself against the north side of the Gay street bridge, and was piled up to the height of fifteen feet above the floor of the bridge, and massed back to the extent of fifty or sixty feet.

The bridge; itself was raised from its abutments on the north side, and the railings on both sides carried away.

The water, when at its height was nearly a foot over the railings, and it is singular that the structure retained its position.

Baltimore street bridge also caught a large portion of the floating timber, and was badly damaged, though it was made passable the next day.

Pratt street bridge was also in a critical condition, and could not be used except for foot-passengers.

The bridge over Eastern avenue was not injured in the least, and this and the Eager street bridge were the only two serviceable for travel.

The flood had pretty nearly subsided, and the water was confined to the banks of the Falls about six o’clock in the evening, and many thousands of persons were wading through the mud left in the streets, nearly ankle deep, to witness the scenes for two or three squares on either side of the Falls, extending over a distance of fully two miles.

Hundreds of vehicles were in use for the same purpose, though it was difficult at times to thread a way through the rubbish left by the receding water.

A horse and wagon, the latter containing some fifteen persons, was crossing Baltimore street near the west side of Market Space, when the pavement caved in and the whole party were thrown into a hole eight feet deep. They all managed to struggle to shore, and the horse was cut loose in time to save himself.

The destruction of property was immense, being estimated at about $3,000,000.

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The Maryland State Quarter Coin shows with sketches of the floods by Theodore R. Davis in the Harper’s Weekly of August 8, 1868.

Maryland State Quarter Coin