The Baltimore Flood

In 1868, The Jones Falls Overflowed
Causing a Disaster Known as "Baltimore’s Black Friday Flood.”

City Flood - July 24, 1868, The Jones Falls Overflowed The Tide Swept in Flooding Houses, Horses, Telegraph Poles, Bridges and More were Swept Away with the Water

Devastating floods like those that have caused havoc in North Dakota and Minnesota are no strangers to Maryland, as the great floods of 1936, 1955, 1972 and 1985, and prior to the 1868 Flood, there were two more notable floods, the Flood of 1837, which was well documented, and the less documented Flood of 1817. This page will discuss briefly the 1817, 1837 Floods, and go a little more into the depth of the Great Flood of 1868

To start the Flood of 1868 was better known at that time as the "Black Friday Flood of 1868" in one day it claimed approx. 50 lives, damaged more than 2,000 homes and caused property damage estimated to be in the area of 2 to 3 million Dollars. Some 4,000 people were thrown out of work by this flood. Described as a "Freshet," the flood began harmlessly as a heavy rain during the early hours of July 24. As the day wore on, Wagner-esque lightning tore the skies, barrages of thunder echoed throughout the city and the downpour continued.

Baltimoreans on their way to work noticed that the Jones Falls was overflowing its banks, but it was not until a south wind began blowing a high tide in from the harbor that the crisis really began. The tide joined with the raging waters of the Jones Falls, and the stream rose 5 feet in 10 minutes. The stream eventually reached a height of 20 feet.

The flood washed away telegraph poles and smashed horse-drawn cars against buildings as terrified passengers and horses scrambled for their lives. Dislodged houses and bridges swirled toward the harbor, and the city's water supply and gas system were rendered useless.

Seven Bridges Swept Away

"The small wooden bridge at Charles Street avenue was the first within the city limits to give way, sweeping down with other debris from above. [It] passed under the lofty Belvidere and Eager-street bridges, the latter being a stone arch, and reaching thence the iron bridge at Madison street, struck it, causing that bridge to give way, and soon after the bridges at Monument, Centre, Bath, Hillen and Fayette streets, making seven bridges in all in the city, swept away," reported The Sun the day after.

A reporter for the Baltimore Telegraph observed the scene as the bridges gave way:

"The water took the immense iron fragments as if they had been feathers, and, after toying with them awhile, threw them with great force upon Baltimore Street Bridge. This caused the north side of the bridge to give way," he wrote.

"This city," said The Sun, "and the adjacent country was visited yesterday with violent storms of rain, which lasted several hours, producing a most disastrous flood. The rain poured down in torrents from early in the morning, and about midday the water in Jones' falls -- that delectable stream which passes directly through the city -- rose with great rapidity, soon overflowing its walled banks, backing into numerous contiguous streets, and penetrating dwellings, stores and innumerable basements, creating great alarm and damaging and sweeping off property, carrying away bridges, & etc."

Water poured into the main waiting room of the Northern Central Railroad's Calvert Station, and the thick walls of the German Zion Church on North Gay Street gave way with a mighty crash.

Oh, Rats!

Schools of rats driven from their normal berths by rising water fled in terror through the streets. Communication between the eastern and western sections of the city was severed.

Water rose into the basement of The Sun Iron Building on East Baltimore Street and for a time threatened the building and its equipment as basement pumps failed to keep pace with the onrush of water. It was only the intervention of a fire department pumper that saved the building and allowed the paper to publish the next day's newspaper.

"Engineer-Cosgrove, with John A. Hogg, president of the board, rendered us valuable aid, for which we tender our heartiest thanks," said The Sun in an editorial.

"The scene from the bridge at Eager Street when the water was at its greatest height was very striking. Its yellow flood came down with a turbulent roar like some mountain torrent, bringing in its headlong rush fragments of bridges and buildings, uprooted trees, driftwood, fences, sheds, outhouses, oil tanks, barrels, merchandise. As soon as the rain slackened, crowds of people flocked to the banks of the stream to witness and view of the scene of destruction," reported The Sun.

"The disaster was not without its lighter moments," said an article in The Sunday Sun Magazine in 1957.

"On some streets, men and women 'revealed in semi-nudity, catching the waifs and strays borne down by the tide. Barrels of flour and whiskey, articles of household furniture and all other imaginable stuff was captured.' "

Railroad service on the Northern Central was disrupted as bridges at Melvale, Woodberry and Mount Washington were destroyed. The telegraph lines along the B&O railway were ripped down and several bridges along the Western Maryland Railway were ruined.

The waters receded as quickly as they had raced through the city. By nightfall, looters were breaking into empty stores, homes, and warehouses and taking what they wanted, unchallenged by any authority.

The next morning downtown Baltimore was littered with debris, and mud was, in places, 6 to 8 inches deep. An awful stench arose over the city from the carcasses of dead animals that baked in the July heat. There was soon an outbreak of typhoid fever.

Seventy years had not dimmed the memory of the flood for Miss Josephine McPhail, then 94, who told The Sun in 1937, "I can still see in my mind's eye the color of that raging torrent, the mad rush of debris and the rats. Above all, the rats."

The Power of Nature

An editorial in The Sun said, "The great flood of Friday was an impressive exhibition of the mighty power of the elements and of the feebleness and frailty of man when he is confronted with a sudden outbreak of those forces of nature which are generally considered subservient to his will, but which sometimes assert themselves with an energy that he has no resources to withstand. It was also a revelation of the peril and disaster which a few hours may bring to property and life in a city traversed, as this is, by a stream like Jones' falls."

Controlling the Jones Falls became a matter of civic concern, but wasn't until 1914 that the Fallsway covering the stream was constructed at a cost of $2 million.

While everything on this site is about or has something to do with "Baltimore City", not everything is about "Baltimore City's Police" that said, this does have a Baltimore City Police Connection in that a newly appointed Commissioner of the Police, Commissioner James E. Carr, took command, saving lives and making a difference. Harper's Weekly reported on the Commissioner's Bravery and the lives he saved.

24 July 1868

It was shortly after his election to the Police Board that that most dreadful calamity, the flood of Baltimore (24 July 1868), overtook our city. In that crisis, the bravery of Commissioner Carr in rescuing the victims of the catastrophe became a matter of national fame. Harper's Weekly, at the time, in a long article on the floods, quoted the following editorial notice from the Baltimore Sunday Telegram, of 26 July,1868: "It is a true saying, that in times of great public calamities, some men rise to the position of a great public benefactor, and such was the case yesterday with Police Commissioner James E. Carr. He, at first sight, apprehended the character of the calamity, and he immediately sent for boats and organized a sufficient force of policemen to manage them. He soon had work enough to do. He led his boat in places of great peril and rescued women from drowning.

The city was afflicted on Friday, 24 July 1868, with a calamity, which formed a fitting close to what was perhaps the most eventful decade in Baltimore's history. It was the memorable and disastrous flood which proved so conclusively of what brave men the police force was composed, and how efficient was their organization. For several days previous to the flood the rain had fallen in torrents, saturating the earth and swelling the streams among the hills of Baltimore and Howard counties. The land, therefore, was almost incapable of absorbing any more of the moisture, when on Friday morning the rain came as if in the realization of some awful plan of nature, and in pursuance of the preparation which preceded it. The cause of the flood has been variously attributed to the overflowing of Lake Roland; to the breaking of a water-spout in the neighborhood of the Queen Spring Valley, and to a number of other things equally unsatisfactory. But as similar floods occurred at various places along the Atlantic slope of the Alleghenies, the inundation is doubtless to be attributed wholly to the heavy fall of rain which began on the morning of July 24 and lasted until 1 o'clock of the same day. The part most difficult to explain, is the rapidity with which the streams rose. The Patapsco river at Ellicott City and Jones Falls rose at the rate of five feet in ten minutes; the water came down those streams like a great wave on the sea-shore. The river at Ellicott City rose ten feet before a drop of rain had fallen there, and was at one time forty feet high. In this city, the rise was so rapid that a gentleman entering a cigar store from a dry street returned with a lighted cigar to find himself knee-deep in a rapidly rushing stream. A passenger car, while crossing a street, was caught by the flood, and with its passengers was swept several blocks toward the river. The market men were caught at ' their work, and only had time to get on their benches and stalls for safety, and these were washed away with their occupants. Terrible as was the catastrophe in Baltimore, it was much worse in Ellicott City. Had it occurred at night the loss of life that it must have caused is fearful to contemplate. It was about ten o'clock in the morning when the water first rose above the banks of Jones Falls and began to flood the low streets of this city. Slowly, at their beginning, the floods covered Harrison street, but in a moment they rushed down Harrison street, increasing in volume at each minute, until the bed of the street was filled with a swollen and powerful stream, whirling on in its surface the shattered remains of ruined homesteads, wrecks of furniture, and, in fact, almost everything in ordinary and common use. When it reached Baltimore street the stream divided into three currents. One rushed like a torrent to the right, the other to the left, and the third ran with more slowness down the center of the market. Above the roar of the vortex could be heard the shrieks of women and children, and the cries of men for help, as they were whirled along with the furious current. Even carriages, with their occupants, were caught up and carried along. For some hours after the awful scenes of destruction had begun in the center of the city, the greater part of the population of the upper portions, kept indoors by the pouring rain, had no idea of the dreadful occurrences below. An extra edition of the Evening Commercial, published at about two o'clock, gave them their first intimation of the disaster. When the flood first appeared on Harrison street the police busied themselves aiding the residents of the street to carry their household goods to places of safety. In a few moments, however, they were obliged to turn their attention towards rescuing the people themselves. Alarms were rang, and men called in from all the stations, to the scene. Numerous boats were promptly ordered from the wharves by the Police Commissioners, and were hurried to the inundated district. They were manned by experienced boatmen and policemen. Most of the boats were launched from the Holliday Street Theatre, and were sent thence, under the direction of Commissioner James E. Carr, through Calvert, North Holliday, and other streets, for the purpose of removing families and furniture to places of safety. On the streets, running at right angles with Harrison street, the streams were by no means so turbulent as in the thoroughfares running parallel with Jones Falls, and they experienced but little of the fierce current that dashed through the latter. Many persons refused the proffered aid, preferring to guard their property. In the neighborhood of North, Davis and Bath streets thieves were busy plying their trade. They were principally young negroes. The police captured a number of them, who were afterwards convicted and sentenced to long terms of imprisonment. One citizen appealed most piteously to Commissioner Jarrett to send policemen to his house, into which he had seen some men swim. The Commissioner and a party got into a boat and pulled in the direction of the house, mooring their boat at a second-story window, through which an entrance was made. A search of the premises discovered that his money, amounting to 8570, was gone. Shortly afterwards it was ascertained that his wife, fearing the flood, had secured the money on her person without informing her husband. At about four o'clock in the afternoon an exciting scene took place on Saratoga street, between Gay and Holliday streets. A boat, in which were Commissioner James E. Carr, Sergeant Charles McComas, Win. Henry Collier, and a colored man, had gone to the second story of a tenement on the east side of Saratoga street, nearly opposite the Central District station-house, to remove several children. Immediately in front of the house was lodged a large quantity of driftwood, consisting of beams and logs, alongside of which the current was running with fearful rapidity. In attempting to stem the tide and effect a landing on the driftwood, which the rescuing party thought to be securely lodged against the houses, an oar was dropped overboard, and Mr. Carr, in attempting to recover it, was flung forcibly into the seething yellow water. Sergeant McComas, in trying to catch him, was also precipitated into the stream, together with the colored man. Confusion ensued, and the three men floated helplessly along with the tide, Commissioner Carr very rapidly, for he had been thrown out into the current. The others succeeded in reaching the pile of driftwood, but the Commissioner was whirled away out of sight, notwithstanding his powerful efforts to swim into stiller waters. A shout at once went up that Commissioner Carr was drowned. It had been seen to disappear under the water, and everybody supposed his corpse would be found after the flood subsided. The Evening Commercial quickly published the rumor in an extra edition. An hour later it was happily proved to be incorrect, for the Commissioner was rescued at the corner of Fayette and Harrison streets. He had been washed from Saratoga street into Harrison street, catching at various fixed articles, and endeavoring to pull himself out of the water, but being unable to do so. At one time he caught hold of a balcony, but was forced from it by the inhuman owner of the house, lest he should break off the balcony ! From Fayette street he was seen by a number of citizens, however. One of them, an expert swimmer, tied a rope around his waist, and while the other end of the rope was held by some persons standing in the shallow water, he swam out to the middle of the street. Recognizing the Commissioner, who was at that time almost exhausted, after an hour's battle with the waves the citizen made to him the Odd Fellows' signal of distress. The Commissioner let go his hold on the house to which he was clinging, and allowed himself to float down the stream toward his rescuer. He was quickly pulled out of the water. The news then spread, amid much rejoicing, that Commissioner Carr had been rescued, which the latter hastened to give visible proof of to his friends by hurrying as soon as he recovered, back to the place where they had seen him disappear. His two companions in distress, Sergeant McComas and the colored man, who had succeeded in reaching the pile of debris, had floated a short distance further down the stream. Their position was an extremely dangerous one, but they were rescued by Detective Richards, who got into a boat and steered it towards the men, persons holding it from the second story windows of a house by a long rope. When the imperiled men succeeded in escaping into the boat, the craft was hauled back against the tide. A somewhat amusing incident occurred at the Gay Street bridge. Mayor Banks was inspecting the scene of the flood late at night, after the waters had fallen to such an extent as to be confined within the limits of the banks of Jones Falls. A great crowd of people was still on the streets. Noticing a large number on the Gay Street bridge, which seemed liable to fall at any moment, he ordered a policeman to clear the structure. The officer, not recognizing the Mayor, turned on him fiercely : " Do you want that bridge cleared?" he cried. " Yes, and at once," replied the Mayor. '•Well, clear it yourself, then!" said the policeman, as he seized Mayor Banks by the collar, and swung him forcibly into the crowd. Nothing could be more abject than the man's apologies, when he discovered whom he had assaulted. Captain Frey, now Marshal of the police force, then in charge of the Southern District, who had been ordered at the beginning of the flood to report at the Holliday Street Theatre, with as many men as he could get together, was soon returned to his own district, when it was learned that the floods had invaded his precinct also, and that the bridges were in danger. His men remained at work all day and all night, recovering property and bodies as they floated down the stream. They took several thousand dollars' worth of goods from the water and eighteen corpses, most of which had been washed down from Ellicott city. His men worked for several days afterward, looking for property and bodies among the debris. In the middle precinct also, a number of bodies were recovered and a large amount of property returned to its owners. Several thieves, who took advantage of the disaster to rob unprotected houses, were also caught and punished.

It was not until the night after the inundation that the dilapidated old Middle Station was sufficiently cleared of the five- inch deep deposit of mud that covered it, to permit of its occupation, and then Captain Mitchell and his officers only used the upper floor. On the following day the citizens of Baltimore, with their proverbial liberality, set about to relieve the distress of the victims of the flood. The police carried private alms where they knew immediate relief was needed, until the Citizens Relief Committee opened its headquarters for the distribution of aid. Among the methods of raising money for the relief of the suffering, was a benefit given at the Holiday Theatre on Saturday evening, August 1, on which occasion John E. Owens played "Major Wellington de Boots," in "Everybody's Friend." The tickets for the benefit were sold by the police. When the returns were handed in, they showed a total of $3,601.50. There were but four districts in the city at this time, it will be remembered. The money was immediately banded over by Marshal Farlow to manager John T. Ford, to whose generosity the benefit was due. That gentleman, in company with Mayor Banks, proceeded at once to the office of the Relief Committee, and gave over the entire amount, not deducting any part on account of his expenses, etc. A few weeks later, when the excitement had subsided, and the devastated district was beginning to be restored, the City Councils passed resolutions of thanks to the police, for their services during the terrible Friday of the flood.

The first report of the new Board of Commissioners, made to the State Legislature, was dated January 18, 1870. It included the transactions of the department during the years 1868 and 1869. There had been comment of slightly unfavorable character, upon the number of policemen employed. The critics declared that the number was excessive, and that taxation was unnecessarily increased. The Commissioners called the attention of the Legislature to the fact that Baltimore then had a population of very nearly 400,000 persons, and that the entire police force consisted of only members. These policemen, the Board asserted, were apportioned among twenty wards, giving an average of not more than twenty-eight of the regular force to each of them to serve both night and day, with no suitable reserve for emergencies. This explanation by the Commissioners was so sweeping that there was no further comment made upon the excessive number of policemen. Any criticism thereafter was rather in the contrary direction. The Board, during the first two years of its service, had many things brought to its attention which demanded reform. Among these was the prevalence of prize-fights in the vicinity. Northern ruffians were in the habit of coming to Baltimore county, and here settling their claims of prowess in the most brutal fashion. They evaded the law giving the Police Commission power to arrest or " shadow" men from the city, by making their rendezvous outside of the city limits. The Commissioners appealed to the State, .and had the law so modified that prize-fighting soon became a reminiscence. Another evil was the increase in the number of private detective agencies in town. Under the most favorable circumstances, these organizations are provocative of blackmailing. Every good police official looks at them with doubt, and they are in many cases used by the criminal as feelers, to ascertain what the authorities are about. The detective service of the police department had just about got itself into an excellent state of efficiency in 1869, and the Commissioners were anxious to relieve it from every embarrassment, so again the Legislature was appealed to. The State authorities responded, and gave the department the same power of control over these agencies as it had over all other bodies engaged in the discovery or prosecution of crime. It was in October, 1867, that the Board forbid all processions through the streets of any organizations not part of the army or navy of the United States, without first procuring permits. This action was occasioned by a sad experience the city had early in the month. During a parade of a negro company, some persons in a crowd of onlookers began to jeer and torment the paraders. One of the colored men lost his control, and drawing a revolver, fired into the crowd, killing a young white man named Charles A. Ellermeyer. The paraders were attacked by the indignant citizens, and a riot was prevented only by the • prompt appearance of a large force of police.

It was on that fearful day in July, 1868, when Baltimore was swept by flood, and part of the town was fairly drowned beneath the waters which raged from the country about, that patrolman Gault discovered that he was not merely an enthusiastic police man, but a man full of that noble desire to do good which impels one to risk his life for another's benefit. There was a great crowd of terror-stricken citizens standing in High street, near Front street, at about 3 o'clock in the afternoon of July 24. The yellow flood roared and writhed and twisted itself in apparent deviltry as it rushed on its path of destruction. On its breast was borne all manner of things : parts of houses, great tree trunks from which huge branches had been torn by the angry waters, chicken coops, furniture, produce — but look ! what is this floating upon the tossing waves, half hidden at times by the billows, but always rising with them, always cresting them — making them sacred even in their maddened rush for prey ? It comes nearer the great crowd ; it is upon them, abreast of them, and within the cradle which rides the flood a babe looks out and smiles upon the thousand men who stand awe-stricken at the strange sight. There is no motion in the crowd ; not a hand is waved, not a tongue is loosened as the cradle with its precious burden sweeps by, the wreckage apparently making way for it. Again look ! a man darts from the midst of the crowd ; he wears the familiar uniform of a policeman ; his head is bare, his hair streaming in the wind and tossing spray. Over he goes into the raging waters, and amid the cheers of the crowd swims towards the castaway. Tree trunks intervene ; great masses of wreckage interpose themselves, but nothing daunts the brave man who struggles toward the object of his endeavors. Struck now and forced back by some heavy drift he begins all over again, and with set teeth grasps the cradle. The baby smiles at him and then gives a little crow of delight as the rescuer's weight tilts the cradle to one side. Little it knows how near it has been to the end. The policeman landed many squares below the place where he leaped into the flood, but the crowd had followed him, and as he stepped ashore and handed the little one to a lady who was standing near, the immense crowd surged about him and made the air ring with cheers. Three hours after this Mr. Gault, still drenched from his heroic battle with the flood, again leaped into the water at Harrison and Gay streets, and in the presence of fully 500 persons rescued John Steigel, after the latter had almost choked the brave officer to death. In the summer of 1876 Detective Gault gained much praise by his clever capture of a pickpocket in this city. One of the officials at the Union depot had put his aunt, an elderly lady, and her daughter on board a train. They were going to Hartford, Connecticut. Before the train left the Union depot a well- dressed gentleman who was sitting in a seat behind them, with much politeness assisted the ladies in disposing of their baggage, etc. As soon as they were comfortably seated he left the car, telling them that he was going into the " smoker " and would return. At that time it was customary for the trains from the Union depot to stop at Bay View junction to take on the cars that had come up from the President street station. Before they reached the junction the conductor went through the train collecting the tickets. Then the old lady suddenly discovered that her pocket-book, containing the tickets for herself and her daughter and about §20 in bills was missing. She supposed she must have lost it, and returned to the Union depot much chagrined with the next train. When she told her nephew about the polite gentleman who had assisted her with her pack ages the young man at once suspected that the " gentleman " had stolen the pocket-book. He reported the facts to the police headquarters. Detective Gault was assigned to look into the case. When he learned that the pocket-book contained two Hartford tickets, heat once determined to watch the "scalpers' " offices, suspecting that the thief would try to sell the tickets. As the detective was loitering along Baltimore street in the neighbor- o o o hood where the "scalpers' " shops are located, he noticed a man answering the description given by the ladies of the polite he leaped into the flood, but the crowd had followed him, and as he stepped ashore and handed the little one to a lady who was standing near, the immense crowd surged about him and made the air ring with cheers. Three hours after this Mr. Gault, still drenched from his heroic battle with the flood, again leaped into the water at Harrison and Gay streets, and in the presence of fully 500 persons rescued John Steigel, after the latter had almost choked the brave officer to death.

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