Part 46

The dreadful earthquake which happened in Calabria, in 1638, is described by the Jesuit Kircher, who was at that time on his way to Sicily to visit Mount Etna. In approaching the gulf of Charybdis, it appeared to whirl round in such a manner as to form a vast hollow, verging to a point in the center. On looking toward Etna, it was seen to emit large volumes of smoke, of a mountainous size, which entirely covered the whole island, and obscured from his view the very shores. This, together with the dreadful noise, and the sulphurous stench, which was strongly perceptible, filled him with apprehensions that a still more dreadful calamity was impending. The sea was agitated, covered with bubbles, and had altogether a very unusual appearance. His surprise was still more increased by the serenity of the weather, there not being a breath of air, nor a cloud, which might be supposed to put all nature thus in motion. He therefore warned his companions that an earthquake was approaching, and landed with all possible diligence at Tropæa, in Calabria.

He had scarcely reached the Jesuits’ college, when his ears were stunned with a horrid sound, resembling that of an infinite number of chariots driven fiercely forward, the wheels rattling, and the thongs cracking. The tract on which he stood seemed to vibrate, as if he had been in the scale of a balance which still continued to waver. The motion soon becoming more violent, he was thrown prostrate on the ground. The universal ruin around him now redoubled his amazement: the crash of falling houses, the tottering of towers, and the groans of the dying, all contributed to excite emotions of terror and despair. Danger threatened him wherever he should flee; but, having remained unhurt amid the general concussion, he resolved to venture for safety, and reached the shore, almost terrified out of his reason. Here he found his companions, whose terrors were still greater than his own. He landed on the following day at Rochetta, where the earth still continued to be violently agitated. He had, however, scarcely reached the inn at which he intended to lodge, when he was once more obliged to return to the boat: in about half an hour the greater part of the town, including the inn, was overwhelmed, and the inhabitants buried beneath its ruins.

Not finding any safety on land, and exposed, by the smallness of the boat to a very hazardous passage by sea, he at length landed at Lopizium, a castle midway between Tropæa and Euphæmia, the city to which he was bound. Here, wherever he turned his eyes, nothing but scenes of ruin and horror appeared: towns and castles were leveled to the ground; while Stromboli, although sixty miles distant, was seen to vomit flames in an unusual manner, and with a noise which he could distinctly hear. From remote objects his attention was soon diverted to contiguous danger: the rumbling sound of an approaching earthquake, with which he was by this time well acquainted, alarmed him for the consequences. Every instant it grew louder, as if approaching; and the spot on which he stood shook so dreadfully, that being unable to stand, he and his companions caught hold of the shrubs which grew nearest to them, and in that manner supported themselves.

This violent paroxysm having ceased, he now thought of prosecuting his voyage to Euphæmia, which lay within a short distance. Turning his eyes toward that city, he could merely perceive a terrific dark cloud, which seemed to rest on the place. He was the more surprised at this, as the weather was remarkably serene. Waiting, therefore, until this cloud had passed away, he turned to look for the city; but, alas! it was totally sunk, and in its place a dismal and putrid lake was to be seen. All was a melancholy solitude, a scene of hideous desolation. Such was the fate of the city of Euphæmia; and the other devastating effects of this earthquake were so great, that along the whole coast of that part of Italy, for the space of two hundred miles, the remains of ruined towns and villages were everywhere to be seen, and the inhabitants, without dwellings, dispersed over the fields. Kircher at length terminated his distressful voyage, by reaching Naples, after having escaped a variety of perils both by sea and land.

THE GREAT EARTHQUAKE OF 1755.

This very remarkable and destructive earthquake extended over a tract of at least four millions of square miles. It appears to have originated beneath the Atlantic ocean, the waves of which received almost as violent a concussion as the land. Its effects were even extended to the waters, in many places where the shocks were not perceptible. It pervaded the greater portions of the continents of Europe, Africa and America; but its extreme violence was exercised on the south-western part of the former.

Lisbon, the Portuguese capital, had already suffered greatly from an earthquake in 1531; and, since the calamity about to be described, has had three such visitations, in 1761, 1765, and 1772, which were not, however, attended by equally disastrous consequences. In the present instance it had been remarked that since the commencement of the year 1750, less rain had fallen than had been known in the memory of the oldest of the inhabitants, unless during the spring preceding the calamitous event. The summer had been unusually cool; and the weather fine and clear for the last forty days. At length, on the first of November, about forty minutes past nine in the morning, a most violent shock of an earthquake was felt; its duration did not exceed six seconds; but so powerful was the concussion, that it overthrew every church and convent in the city, together with the royal palace, and the magnificent opera house adjoining to it; in short, no building of any consequence escaped. About one-fourth of the dwelling-houses were thrown down; and, at a moderate computation, thirty thousand persons perished. The sight of the dead bodies, and the shrieks of those who were half-buried in the ruins, were terrible beyond description; and so great was the consternation, that the most resolute man durst not stay a moment to extricate the friend he loved most affectionately, by the removal of the stones beneath the weight of which he was crushed. Self-preservation alone was consulted; and the most probable security was sought, by getting into open places, and into the middle of the streets. Those who were in the upper stories of the houses, were in general more fortunate than those who attempted to escape by the doors, many of the latter being buried beneath the ruins, with the greater part of the foot-passengers. Those who were in carriages escaped the best, although the drivers and horses suffered severely. The number, however, of those who perished in the streets, and in the houses, was greatly inferior to that of those who were buried beneath the ruins of the churches; for, as it was a day of solemn festival, these were crowded for the celebration of the mass. There were very many of these churches; and the lofty steeples in most instances, fell with the roof, insomuch that few escaped.

The first shock, as has been noticed, was extremely short, but was quickly succeeded by two others; and the whole, generally described as a single shock, lasted from five to seven minutes. About two hours after, fires broke out in three different parts of the city; and this new calamity prevented the digging out of the immense riches concealed beneath the ruins. From a perfect calm, a fresh gale immediately after sprang up, and occasioned the fire to rage with such fury, that in the space of three days the city was nearly reduced to ashes. Every element seemed to conspire toward its destruction; for, soon after the shock, which happened near high-water, the tide rose in an instant forty feet, and at the castle of Belem, which defended the entrance of the harbor, fifty feet higher than had ever been known. Had it not subsided as suddenly, the whole city would have been submerged. A large new quay sunk to an unfathomable depth, with several hundreds of persons, not one of the bodies of whom was afterward found. Before the sea thus came rolling in like a mountain, the bar was seen dry from the shore.

The terrors of the surviving inhabitants were great and multiplied. Amid the general confusion, and through a scarcity of hands, the dead bodies could not be buried, and it was dreaded that a pestilence would ensue; but from this apprehension they were relieved by the fire, by which these bodies were for the greater part consumed. The fears of a famine were more substantial; since, during the three days succeeding the earthquake, an ounce of bread was literally worth a pound of gold. Several of the corn magazines having been, however, fortunately saved from the fire, a scanty supply of bread was afterward procured. Next came the dread of the pillage and murder of those who had saved any of their effects; and this happened in several instances, until examples were made of the delinquents. The great shock was succeeded about noon by another, when the walls of several houses which were still standing, were seen to open, from the top to the bottom, more than a fourth of a yard, and afterward to close again so exactly as not to leave any signs of injury. Between the first and the eighth of November twenty-two shocks were reckoned.

A boat on the river, about a mile distant from Lisbon, was heard by the passengers to make a noise as if it had run aground, although then in deep water: they at the same time saw the houses falling on both sides of the river, in front of which, on the Lisbon side, the greater part of a convent fell, burying many of its inmates beneath the ruins, while others were precipitated into the river. The water was covered with dust, blown by a strong northerly wind; and the sun entirely obscured. On landing, they were driven by the overflowing of the waters to the high grounds, whence they perceived the sea, at a mile’s distance, rushing in like a torrent, although against wind and tide. The bed of the Tagus was in many places raised to its surface; while ships were driven from their anchors, and jostled together with such violence that their crews did not know whether they were afloat or aground. The master of a ship, who had great difficulty in reaching the port of Lisbon, reported that, being fifty leagues at sea, the shock was there so violent as to damage the deck of the vessel. He fancied he had mistaken his reckoning, and struck on a rock.

The following observations, relative to this fatal earthquake, were made at Colares, about twenty miles from Lisbon, and within two miles of the sea. On the last day of October, the weather was clear, and remarkably warm for the season. About four o’clock in the afternoon a fog arose, proceeding from the sea, and covering the valleys, which was very unusual at that season of the year. The wind shifted soon after to the east, and the fog returned to the sea, collecting itself, and becoming exceedingly thick. As the fog retired, the sea rose with a prodigious roaring. On the first of November, the day broke with a serene sky, the wind continuing at the east; but about nine o’clock the sun began to be obscured; and about half an hour after a rumbling noise was heard, resembling that of chariots, and increasing to such a degree, that at length it became equal to the explosions of the largest artillery. Immediately a shock of an earthquake was felt; and this was succeeded by a second and a third, at the same time that several light flames of fire, resembling the kindling of charcoal, issued from the mountains. During these three shocks, the walls of the buildings moved from east to west. In another spot, where the sea-coast could be descried, a great quantity of smoke, very thick, but somewhat pale, issued from the hill named the Fojo. This increased with the fourth shock, at noon, and afterward continued to issue in a greater or less degree. At the instant the subterraneous rumblings were heard, the smoke was observed to burst forth at the Fojo; and its volume was constantly proportioned to the noise. On visiting the spot whence it was seen to arise, no sign of fire could be perceived near it. After the earthquake, several fountains were dried up; while others, after undergoing great changes, returned to their pristine state. In places where there had not been any water, springs burst forth, and continued to flow; several of these spouted to the hight of nearly twenty feet, and threw up sand of various colors. On the hills, rocks were split, and the earth rent; while toward the coast several large portions of rock were thrown from the eminences into the sea.

[Illustration: EARTHQUAKE AT LISBON.]

At Oporto, the earthquake was felt with great violence. The river continued to rise and fall five or six feet, for four hours; the houses of the city were rocked as if by convulsions, and the earth was seen to heave up. St. Ubes, twenty miles distant, was entirely swallowed up by the repeated shocks, and by the vast surf of the sea. And at Cadiz it was so violent, that, but for the great solidity of the buildings, everything would have been destroyed. Those who had quitted the houses and churches, seeking safety in the open air, had scarcely recovered from their first terror, when they were plunged into a new alarm. At ten minutes after eleven o’clock, a wave was seen coming from the sea at the distance of eight miles, and at least sixty feet higher than usual. It dashed against the west part of the city, which is very rocky. Although its force was much broken by these rocks, it at length reached the walls, and beat in the breastwork, which was sixty feet above the ordinary level of the water, removing pieces of the fabric, of the weight of eight or ten tuns, to the distance of forty or fifty yards. At half past eleven came a second wave; and this was followed by four others of equal magnitude. Others, but smaller, and gradually lessening, continued at uncertain intervals until the evening. A considerable part of the rampart was thrown down, and carried by the torrent above fifty paces. Several persons perished on the causeway leading to the isle of Lesu. The accounts brought to Cadiz reported that Seville had been much damaged, and that a similar fate had attended St. Lucar and Cheres. Conel was said to have been destroyed; and, indeed, with the exception of the provinces of Catalonia, Aragon and Valencia, the effects of this earthquake were felt throughout Spain.

At Madrid the shock was very sensibly felt soon after ten in the morning, and lasted five or six minutes. At first the inhabitants fancied they were seized with a swimming in the head; and, afterward, that the houses were falling. In the churches the sensations were the same, and the terror so great, that the people trod each other under foot in getting out. Those who were within the towers were still more affrighted, fancying every instant while the shock lasted, that they were falling to the ground. It was not sensible to those who were in carriages, and very little so to foot-passengers.

At Gibraltar it was felt about the same time as at Madrid, and began with a tremulous motion of the earth, which lasted about half a minute. A violent shock succeeded; and this again was followed by a second tremulous motion, of the duration of five or six seconds. Another shock, not so violent as the first, subsided gradually; and the whole lasted about two minutes. Several of the guns on the batteries were seen to rise, and others to sink, while the earth had an undulating motion. The greater part of the garrison and inhabitants were seized with giddiness and sickness: several fell prostrate; others were stupefied; and many who were walking or riding, became sick, without being sensible of any motion of the earth. Every fifteen minutes the sea rose six feet; and then fell so low, that the boats and small vessels near the shore were left aground, as were also numbers of small fish. The flux and reflux lasted till next morning, having decreased gradually from two in the afternoon.

In Africa, this earthquake was felt almost as severely as it had been in Europe. A great part of the city of Algiers was destroyed. At Arzilla, a town belonging to the kingdom of Fez, about ten in the morning, the sea suddenly rose with such impetuosity, that it lifted up a vessel in the bay, and impelled it with such force on the land, that it was shattered in pieces; and a boat was found two musket-shots within land from the sea. At Fez and Mequinez, great numbers of houses fell down, and a multitude of people were buried beneath the ruins. At Morocco, similar accidents occurred; and at Salle also, much damage was done. At Tangier the earthquake began at ten in the morning, and lasted ten or twelve minutes. At Tetuan it commenced at the same time, but was of less duration; three of the shocks were so extremely violent, that it was feared the whole city would be destroyed.

In the city of Funchal, in the island of Madeira, a shock of this earthquake was felt at thirty-eight minutes past nine in the morning. It was preceded by a rumbling noise in the air, like that of empty carriages passing hastily over a stone pavement. The observer felt the floor beneath him immediately to be agitated by a tremulous motion, vibrating very quickly. The shock continued more than a minute; during which space the vibrations, although continual, were twice very sensibly weakened and increased in force. The increase after the first remission of the shock was the most intense. During the whole of its continuance it was accompanied by a noise in the air; and this lasted some seconds after the motion of the earth had ceased, dying away like a peal of distant thunder rolling through the air. At three-quarters past eleven, the sea, which was quite calm, suddenly retired several paces; when rising with a great swell, and without any noise, it as suddenly advanced, overflowed the shore, and entered the city. It rose fifteen feet perpendicularly above high-water mark, although the tide, which there flows seven feet, was at half-ebb. The water immediately receded; and after having fluctuated four or five times between high and low water mark, it subsided, and the sea remained calm as before. In the northern part of the island the inundation was more violent, the sea there retiring above a hundred paces at first, and suddenly returning, overflowed the shore, forcing open doors, breaking down the walls of several magazines and storehouses, and leaving great quantities of fish ashore and in the streets of the village of Machico. All this was the effect of one rising of the sea, for it never afterward flowed high enough to reach the high-water mark. It continued, however, to fluctuate here much longer before it subsided than at Funchal; and in some places further to the westward, it was hardly, if at all, perceptible.

These were the phenomena with which this remarkable earthquake was attended, in those places where it was most violent. The effects of it, however, reached to an immense distance; and were perceived chiefly by the agitations of the waters, or some slight motion of the earth. Its utmost boundaries to the south are unknown; the barbarousness of the African nations rendering it impossible to procure any intelligence from them, except where the effects were dreadful. On the north, however, we are assured, that it reached as far as Norway and Sweden. In the former kingdom, the waters of several rivers and lakes were violently agitated. In the latter, shocks were felt in several provinces, and all the rivers and lakes were strongly agitated, especially in Dalecarlia. The river Dala suddenly overflowed its banks, and as suddenly retired. At the same time, a lake at the distance of a league from it, and with which it had no manner of communication, bubbled up with great violence. At Fahlun, a town in Dalecarlia, several strong shocks were felt.

In many places of Germany the effects of this earthquake were very perceptible; but in Holland, the agitations were still more remarkable. At Alphen on the Rhine, between Leyden and Woerden, in the afternoon of the first of November, the waters were agitated to such a violent degree, that buoys were broken from their chains, large vessels snapped their cables, small ones were thrown out of the water upon the land, and others lying on land were set afloat. At Amsterdam, about eleven in the forenoon, the air being perfectly calm, the waters were suddenly agitated in the canals, so that several boats broke loose; chandeliers were observed to vibrate in the churches; but no motion of the earth, or concussion of any building was observed. At Haerlem, in the forenoon, for nearly four minutes, not only the waters in the rivers, canals, &c., but also all kinds of fluids in smaller quantities, as in coolers, tubs, &c., were surprisingly agitated, and dashed over the sides, though no motion was perceptible in the vessels themselves. In these small quantities also the fluid apparently ascended prior to its turbulent motion; and in many places, even the rivers and canals rose one foot perpendicularly.

The agitation of the waters was also perceived in various parts of Great Britain and Ireland. At Barlborough, in Derbyshire, between eleven and twelve in the forenoon, in a boat-house on the west side of a large body of water, called Pibley Dam, supposed to cover at least thirty acres of land, was heard a surprising and terrible noise; a large swell of water came in a current from the south, and rose two feet on the sloped dam-head at the north end of the water. It then subsided, but returned again immediately, though with less violence. The water was thus agitated for three-quarters of an hour; but the current grew every time weaker and weaker, till at last it entirely ceased.