San Carlos, Chiloe--Osorno in eruption--Ride to Castro and Cucao
--Impenetrable forests--Valdivia--Apple-trees--Ride to Llanos
--Indians--Earthquake--Concepcion--Great earthquake--Effects of
wave--Rocks fissured--Appearance of the former towns--Water in the
bay black and boiling--Direction of vibration--Stones displaced
--Cause of great waves--Permanent elevation of land--Great lake
of fluid rock beneath crust of the globe--Connexion of volcanic
phenomena--Slow elevation of mountain chain, cause of earthquakes.
CHILOE AND CONCEPCION.
ON JANUARY THE 15TH we sailed from Lowe’s Harbour, and three days
afterwards anchored a second time in the bay of S. Carlos in Chiloe.
On the night of the 19th the volcano of Osorno was in activity. At
midnight the sentry observed something like a large star; from which
state the bright spot gradually increased in size till about three
o’clock, when a very magnificent spectacle was presented. By the
aid of a glass, dark objects, in constant succession, were seen, in
the midst of a great red glare of light, to be thrown upwards and
to fall down again. The light was sufficient to cast on the water a
long bright reflection. By the morning the volcano[1] had resumed its
tranquillity.
Large masses of molten matter seem very commonly to be cast out of
the igneous vents, in this part of the Cordillera. I was assured,
that when the Corcovado is in eruption, great masses projected
upwards are seen to burst in the air, and to assume fantastical
forms, such as trees and other bodies. One may form an idea of the
immense size of these bodies, when it is stated that they have been
seen from the high land behind S. Carlos, which is distant no less
than ninety-three miles from the Corcovado.
Captain FitzRoy being anxious that some bearings should be taken on
the outer coast of Chiloe, it was planned that Mr. King and myself
should ride to Castro, and thence across the island to the Capella
de Cucao, situated on the west coast. Having hired horses and a
guide, we set out on the morning of the 22d. We had not proceeded
far, before we were joined by a woman and two boys, who were bent on
the same journey. Every one on this road acts on a “hail fellow well
met,” fashion; and one may here enjoy the privilege, so rare in South
America, of travelling without fire-arms.
At first, the country consists of a succession of hills and valleys.
Nearer to Castro it becomes very level, but is still some height
above the sea. The road itself is a curious affair: it consists in
its whole length, with the exception of very few parts, of great
logs of wood, which are either broad and placed longitudinally, or
narrow and transversely. In summer the road is not very bad: but in
winter, when the wood is rendered slippery from rain, travelling is
exceedingly difficult. At that time of the year, the ground on each
side becomes a morass, and is often overflowed: hence it is necessary
that the longitudinal logs should be fastened down by transverse
poles, which are pegged on each side into the earth. These pegs
render a fall from a horse dangerous; as the chance of alighting
on one of them is not small. It is remarkable, however, how active
custom has made the Chilotan horses. In crossing bad parts, where the
logs have been displaced, they skipped from one to the other, almost
with the quickness and certainty of a dog. On either hand the road is
bordered by the lofty forest-trees, with their bases matted together
by the canes. When occasionally a long reach of this avenue could
be observed, it presented a curious scene of uniformity: the white
line of logs, narrowing in perspective, became hidden by the gloomy
forest, or it terminated in a zigzag which ascended some steep hill.
Although the distance from S. Carlos to Castro is only twelve leagues
in a straight line, the formation of the road must have been a great
labour. I was told that several people had formerly lost their lives
in attempting to cross the forest. The first who succeeded was an
Indian, who cut his way through the canes in eight days, and reached
S. Carlos. He was rewarded by the Spanish government with a grant of
land. During the summer, many of the Indians wander about the forests
(but chiefly in the higher parts, where the woods are not quite so
thick) in search of the half-wild cattle which live on the leaves
of the cane, and certain trees. It was one of these huntsmen who by
chance discovered, a few years since, an English vessel, which had
been wrecked on the outer coast. The crew were beginning to fail in
provisions, and it is not probable that, without the aid of this man,
they would have been able to have extricated themselves from these
scarcely penetrable woods. As it was, one seaman died on the march,
from fatigue. The Indians in these excursions steer by the sun; so
that if there is a continuance of cloudy weather, they cannot travel.
The day was beautiful, and the number of trees which were in full
flower perfumed the air; yet even this could scarcely dissipate the
effect arising from the gloomy dampness of the forest. Moreover, the
many dead trunks that stand like skeletons, never fail to give to
these primeval woods a character of solemnity which is wanting in
those of countries long civilized. Shortly after sunset we bivouacked
for the night. Our female companion, who was rather good-looking,
belonged to one of the most respectable families in Castro: she rode,
however, astride, and without shoes or stockings. I was surprised at
the total want of pride shown by her and her brother. They brought
food with them, but at all our meals sat watching Mr. King and myself
whilst eating, till we were fairly shamed into feeding the whole
party. The night was cloudless; and while lying in our beds, we
enjoyed the sight (and it is a high enjoyment) of the multitude of
stars which illumined the darkness of the forest.
JANUARY 23D.--We rose early in the morning, and reached the pretty
quiet town of Castro by two o’clock. The old governor had died
since our last visit, and in his place a Chileno was acting. We had
a letter of introduction to Don Pedro. We found him exceedingly
hospitable and kind, and with a degree of disinterestedness which is
more common in La Plata than on this side of the continent. The next
day Don Pedro procured us fresh horses, and offered to accompany us
himself. We proceeded to the south; generally following the coast,
and passing through several hamlets, each with its large barn-like
chapel, built of wood. Near Castro we saw a remarkably pretty
waterfall: it was very small, but the water fell in a single sheet
into a large circular basin, around which stately trees, from 100 to
120 feet high, cast a dark shade. At Vilipilli, Don Pedro asked the
commandant to give us a guide to Cucao. The old gentleman offered to
come himself; but for a long time he would not believe that any thing
could induce two Englishmen to go to such an out of the way place
as Cucao. We thus were accompanied by the two greatest aristocrats
in the country; as was plainly to be seen in the manner of all the
poorer Indians towards them.
At Chonchi, we struck off across the island, and followed intricate
winding paths, sometimes passing through magnificent forests, and
then opening into pretty cleared spots, abounding with corn and
potato crops. In this undulating woody country, partially cultivated,
there was something which reminded me of the wilder parts of
England, and therefore had to my eye a most fascinating aspect. At
Vilinco, which is situated on the borders of the lake of Cucao,
only a few fields are cleared; and all the inhabitants appear to be
Indians. This lake is twelve miles long, and runs in an east and
west direction. From local circumstances, the sea-breeze blows very
regularly during the day, and during the night it falls calm. This
has given rise to strange exaggerations: for the phenomenon, as
described to us at S. Carlos, was quite a prodigy.
The road to Cucao was so very bad, that we determined to embark in a
_periagua_. The commandant, in the most authoritative manner, ordered
six Indians to get ready to pull us over, without deigning to tell
them whether they would be paid. The periagua is a strange rough
boat, but the crew were still stranger; I doubt if six uglier little
men ever got into a boat together. They pulled, however, very well
and cheerfully: the stroke-oar gabbled Indian, and uttered strange
cries, much after the fashion of a pig-driver when driving his pigs.
We started with a light breeze against us, but yet reached, before
late at night, the Capella de Cucao. The country on each side of the
lake was one unbroken forest.
In the same periagua with us, a cow was embarked. To get so large
an animal into a small boat appears at first a difficulty; but the
Indians managed it in a minute. They brought the cow alongside the
boat, which was heeled towards her; then placing two oars under her
belly, with their ends resting on the gunwale, by the aid of these
levers they fairly tumbled the poor beast, heels over head, into the
bottom of the boat, and then lashed her down with ropes. At Cucao, we
found an uninhabited hovel (which is the residence of the padre when
he pays this Capella a visit), where, lighting a fire, we cooked our
supper, and were very comfortable.
The district of Cucao is the only inhabited part on the whole west
coast of Chiloe. It contains about thirty or forty Indian families,
who are scattered along four or five miles of the shore. They are
very much secluded from the rest of Chiloe, and have scarcely any
sort of commerce, except sometimes in a little oil, which they get
from seal-blubber. They are pretty well dressed, in clothes of their
own manufacture, and they have plenty to eat. They seemed, however,
discontented, yet humble to a degree which it was quite painful to
witness. The former feeling is, I think, chiefly to be attributed to
the harsh and authoritative manner in which they are treated by their
rulers. Our companions, although so very civil to us, behaved to
the poor Indians as if they had been slaves, rather than free men.
They ordered provisions and the use of their horses, without ever
condescending to say how much, or indeed whether the owners should be
paid at all. In the morning, being left alone with these poor people,
we soon ingratiated ourselves by presents of cigars and maté. A lump
of white sugar was divided between all present, and tasted with the
greatest curiosity. The Indians ended all their complaints by saying,
“and it is only because we are poor Indians, and know nothing; but it
was not so when we had a king.”
The next day, after breakfast, we road to Punta Huantamó, a few miles
to the northward. The road lay along a very broad beach, on which,
even after so many fine days, a terrible surf was breaking. I was
assured that after a heavy gale, the roar can be heard at night even
at Castro, a distance of no less than twenty-one sea miles, across
a hilly and wooded country. We had some difficulty in reaching the
point, owing to the intolerably bad paths; for every where in the
shade the ground soon becomes a perfect quagmire. The point itself
is a bold rocky hill. It is covered by a plant allied, I believe,
to Bromelia, and called by the inhabitants Chepones. In scrambling
through the beds, our hands were very much scratched. I was amused
by observing the precaution our Indian guide took, in turning up his
trousers, thinking that they were more delicate than his own hard
skin. This plant bears a fruit, in shape like an artichoke, in which
a number of seed-vessels are packed; these contain a pleasant sweet
pulp, here much esteemed. I saw at Lowe’s Harbour, the Chilotans
making chichi, or cider, with this fruit: so true is it, as Humboldt
remarks, that almost every where man finds means of preparing some
kind of beverage from the vegetable kingdom. The savages, however, of
Tierra del Fuego, and I believe of Australia, have not advanced thus
far in the arts.
The coast to the northward of Punta Huantamó is exceedingly rugged
and broken, and is fronted by many breakers, on which the sea is
eternally roaring. Mr. King and myself were anxious to return, if it
had been possible, on foot along this coast; but even the Indians
said it is quite impracticable. We were told that men have crossed
by striking directly through the woods from Cucao to S. Carlos, but
never by the coast. On these expeditions, the Indians carry with them
only toasted corn, and of this they eat sparingly twice a day.
26TH.--Re-embarking in the periagua, we returned across the lake, and
then mounted our horses. The whole of Chiloe took advantage of this
week of unusually fine weather, to clear the ground by burning. In
every direction volumes of smoke were curling upwards. Although the
inhabitants were so assiduous in setting fire to every part of the
wood, yet I did not see a single fire which they had succeeded in
making extensive. We dined with our friend the commandant, and did
not reach Castro till after dark.
The next morning we started very early. After having ridden for
some time, we obtained from the brow of a steep hill an extensive
view (and it is a rare thing on this road) of the great forest.
Over the horizon of trees, the volcano of Corcovado, and the great
flat-topped one to the northward, stood out in proud pre-eminence;
scarcely another peak in the long range showed its snowy top. I hope
it will be long before I forget this farewell view of the magnificent
Cordillera of Chiloe. At night we bivouacked under a cloudless sky,
and the next morning reached S. Carlos. We arrived on the right day,
for before evening heavy rain commenced.
FEBRUARY 4TH.--Sailed from Chiloe. During the last week I made
several short excursions. One was to examine a great bed of oyster
and Venus shells, of the same kind now living in the neighbouring
bay, but elevated 350 feet (measured by the barometer) above the
level of the sea. From among these shells large forest-trees were
growing. Another ride was to P. Huechucucuy. I had with me a guide
who knew the country far too well; for he would pertinaciously tell
me the Indian name for every little point, rivulet, and creek. In
the same manner as in Tierra del Fuego, the Indian language appears
singularly well adapted for attaching names to the most trivial
divisions of the land. I believe every one was glad to say farewell
to Chiloe. Yet if we could forget the gloom and ceaseless rain of
winter, Chiloe might pass for a charming island. There is, also,
something very attractive in the simplicity and humble politeness of
all the poor inhabitants.
We steered along shore to the northward, but owing to thick weather,
did not reach Valdivia till the night of the eighth. The external
features of the whole line of country were the same with the
central parts of Chiloe. The forest was nowhere cleared away. On
the sea-coast bold rocky points projected, but further inland the
older formations were covered up by plains, belonging to geological
periods of no great antiquity. The next morning, after anchoring in
the fine harbour of Valdivia, the boat proceeded to the town, which
is distant about ten miles. We followed the course of the river,
occasionally passing a few hovels, and patches of ground cleared
out of the otherwise unbroken forest; and sometimes meeting a canoe
with an Indian family. The town is situated on the low banks of the
stream, and is so completely buried in a wood of apple-trees, that
the streets are merely paths in an orchard.
I have never seen any country where apple-trees appeared to thrive
so well as in this damp part of South America. On the borders of
the roads there were many young trees which had evidently planted
themselves. In Chiloe, the inhabitants possess a marvellously short
method of making an orchard. At the lower part of almost every
branch, small, conical, brown, wrinkled points project: these are
always ready to change into roots, as may sometimes be seen, where
any mud has been accidentally splashed against the tree. A branch
as thick as a man’s thigh is chosen, and is cut off just beneath
a group of these points; all the smaller branches are lopped off,
and it is then placed about two feet deep in the ground: the
operation is performed in the earliest part of the spring. During
the succeeding summer, the stump throws out very long shoots, and
sometimes even bears fruit. I was shown one which had produced as
many as twenty-three apples, but this was thought very unusual. The
ensuing summer, the first year shoots throw out others, and by the
third season the stump is changed (as I have myself seen) into a
well-wooded tree, loaded with an abundance of fruit. I understand
there is one kind of apple-tree in England, which can be treated in a
similar manner; but I believe the rapidity of growth, and at the same
time production of fruit, is very inferior to that of the trees in
Chiloe. An old man near Valdivia illustrated his motto, “Necessidad
es la madre del invencion,” by giving an account of the several
useful things he manufactured from his apples. After making cider, he
extracted from the refuse a white and very finely-flavoured spirit:
by another process he procured a sweet treacle, or, as he called it,
honey. He likewise showed us wine derived from the same fruit. The
children and pigs seemed almost to live, during this season of the
year, in the orchards.
FEBRUARY 11TH.--I set out with a guide on a short ride, in which,
however, I managed to see singularly little, either of the geology
of the country, or of its inhabitants. There is not much cleared
land near Valdivia: after crossing a river at the distance of a few
miles, we entered the forest, and then passed only one miserable
hovel, before reaching our sleeping-place for the night. The short
difference in latitude, of 150 miles, has given another aspect to
the forest, compared to that of Chiloe. This is owing to a slightly
different proportion in the kinds of trees. The evergreens do not
appear to be quite so numerous; and the forest in consequence is
coloured by a brighter and more lively green. In the same manner
as in Chiloe, the lower parts are matted together by canes. Here
also another kind of the same family (resembling the bamboo of
Brazil, and about twenty feet in height), grows in clusters, and
ornaments the banks of some of the streams in a very pretty manner.
It is with this plant that the Indians make their chuzos, or long
tapering spears. Our resting-house was so dirty that I preferred
sleeping outside. The first night on these journeys is generally
an uncomfortable one, because one’s body is not accustomed to the
tickling and biting of the fleas. I am sure, in the morning, there
was not a space on my legs of the size of a shilling, which had not
its little red mark, where the flea had feasted.
12TH.--We continued to ride through the uncleared forest; only
occasionally meeting an Indian on horseback, or a troop of fine
mules bringing alerce planks and corn from the southern plains. In
the afternoon one of the horses knocked up: we were then on the brow
of a hill, which commanded a fine view of the Llanos. The view of
these open plains was very refreshing, after being hemmed in and
buried amongst a wilderness of trees. The uniformity of a forest
soon becomes very wearisome. This west coast makes me remember with
pleasure the free, unbounded plains of Patagonia; yet with the true
spirit of contradiction, I cannot forget how sublime is the silence
of the forest. The Llanos are the most fertile and thickly-peopled
parts of the country; as they possess the immense advantage of being
nearly free from trees. Before leaving the forest we crossed some
flat little lawns, around which single trees encroached, in the same
manner as in an English park. It is curious how frequently a plain
seems hostile to the growth of trees. Humboldt found much difficulty
in endeavouring to account for their presence in certain parts of
South America, and their absence in other parts. It appears to me,
that the level state of the surface very frequently determines this
point; but the cause of its doing so I do not know. In the case of
Tierra del Fuego, the deficiency of trees on level ground is probably
owing to the accumulation of too much moisture in such situations.
But to the northward of Maldonado, in Banda Oriental, where we have a
fine undulating country, with streams of water (which are themselves
fringed with woods); the circumstance appears to me, as I have
before stated; of very difficult explanation.
On account of the tired horse; I determined to stop close by, at
the Mission of Cudico; to the friar of which I had a letter of
introduction. Cudico is an intermediate district between the forest
and the Llanos. There are a good many cottages; with patches of corn
and potatoes; nearly all belonging to Indians. The tribes dependant
on Valdivia are “reducidos y cristianos.” The Indians further
northward; about Arauco and Imperial, are still very wild and not
converted; but they all have much intercourse with the Spaniards. The
padre said that the Christian Indians did not much like coming to
mass, but that otherwise they show respect for religion. The greatest
difficulty is in making them observe the ceremonies of marriage. The
wild Indians take as many wives as they can support; and a cacique
will sometimes have more than ten. On entering his house, the number
may be told by that of the separate fires. This plan must be a good
one to prevent quarrelling. Each wife lives a week in turn with
the cacique; but all are employed in weaving ponchos, &c., for his
advantage. To be the wife of a cacique is an honour much sought after
by the Indian women.
The men of all the tribes wear a coarse woollen poncho; but those
south of Valdivia wear short trousers, and those northward a
petticoat, like the chilipa of the Gauchos. All have their long hair
bound by a scarlet fillet round their heads; but otherwise they
are uncovered. These Indians are good-sized men; their cheek-bones
are very prominent, and in general appearance they resemble the
great American family to which they belong; but their physiognomy
seemed to me to be slightly different from that of any other tribe
which I had before seen. Their expression is generally grave and
even austere, and possesses much character: this may pass either
for honest bluntness, or fierce determination. The long black hair,
the grave and much-lined features, and the dark complexion, called
to my mind old portraits of James the First; but very likely the
resemblance may be imaginary. On the road we met with none of that
humble politeness so universal in Chiloe. Some gave their “mari
mari” (good morning) with promptness, but the greater number did not
seem inclined to offer any salute. This independence of manners is
probably a consequence of their long wars, and the repeated victories
which they alone of all the tribes in America have gained over the
Spaniards.
I spent the evening very pleasantly, talking with the padre. He
was exceedingly kind and hospitable; and coming from Santiago, had
contrived to surround himself with some few comforts. Being a man
of some little education, he bitterly complained of the total want
of society. With no particular zeal for religion, no business or
pursuit, how completely must this man’s life be wasted! Finding
nothing which tempted me either to stay or to proceed, the next day
we set out on our return through the forest. We met on the road
seven very wild Indians. Amongst them were some caciques, who had
been receiving a yearly stipend, which is paid to some who have long
remained faithful. They were fine-looking men, and they rode one
after the other, with most gloomy faces. An old cacique, who headed
them, had been, I suppose, more excessively drunk than the rest, for
he seemed both extremely grave and very crabbed. Shortly before this,
two Indians joined us, who were travelling from a distant mission to
Valdivia, concerning some lawsuit. One was a good-humoured old man,
but from his wrinkled beardless face looked more like an old woman
than a man. I frequently presented both of them with cigars; and
though ready to receive them, and I dare say grateful, they would
hardly condescend to thank me. A Chilotan Indian would have taken
off his hat and given his “Dios le page!” (May God repay you!)--The
travelling was very tedious, both from the badness of the roads, and
from the number of great fallen trees, which it was necessary either
to leap over, or to avoid by making long circuits. We slept on the
road; and next morning reached Valdivia, whence I proceeded on board.
A few days afterwards I crossed the bay with a party of officers,
and landed near the fort called Niebla. The buildings were in a
most ruinous state, and the gun-carriages quite rotten. Mr. Wickham
remarked to the commanding officer, that with one discharge they
would certainly all fall to pieces. The poor man, trying to put a
good face upon it, gravely replied, “No, I am sure, sir, they would
stand two!” The Spaniards must have intended to have made this place
impregnable. There is now lying in the middle of the courtyard a
little mountain of mortar, which rivals in hardness the rock on which
it is placed. It was brought from Chile, and cost seven thousand
dollars. The revolution having broken out, prevented its being
applied to any purpose, and now it remains a monument of the fallen
greatness of Spain.
I wanted to go to a house about a mile and a half distant; but
my guide said it was quite impossible to penetrate the wood in a
straight line. He offered, however, to lead me, by following obscure
cattle-tracks, the shortest way; the walk, nevertheless, took no less
than three hours! This man is employed in hunting strayed cattle;
yet, well as he must know the woods, he was not long since lost for
two whole days, and had nothing to eat. These facts convey a good
idea of the impracticability of the forests of these countries.
A question often occurred to me--How long does any vestige of a
fallen tree remain? This man showed me one which a party of fugitive
royalists had cut down fourteen years ago; and taking this as a
criterion, I should think a bole a foot and a half in diameter would
in thirty years present a mere ridge of mould.
FEBRUARY 20TH.--The day has been memorable in the annals of Valdivia,
for the most severe earthquake experienced by the oldest inhabitant.
I happened to be on shore, and was lying down in the wood to rest
myself. It came on suddenly, and lasted two minutes; but the time
appeared much longer. The rocking of the ground was most sensible.
The undulations appeared to my companion and myself to come from due
east; whilst others thought they proceeded from south-west; which
shows how difficult it is in all cases to perceive the direction of
these vibrations. There was no difficulty in standing upright, but
the motion made me almost giddy. It was something like the movement
of a vessel in a little cross ripple, or still more like that felt by
a person skating over thin ice, which bends under the weight of his
body.
A bad earthquake at once destroys the oldest associations: the world,
the very emblem of all that is solid, has moved beneath our feet like
a crust over a fluid;--one second of time has conveyed to the mind
a strange idea of insecurity, which hours of reflection would never
have created. In the forest, as a breeze moved the trees, I only felt
the earth tremble, but saw no consequences from it. Captain FitzRoy
and the officers were at the town during the shock, and there the
scene was more awful; for although the houses, from being built of
wood, did not fall, yet they were so violently shaken that the boards
creaked and rattled. The people rushed out of doors in the greatest
alarm. I feel little doubt that it is these accompaniments which
cause that horror of earthquakes, experienced by all those who have
thus seen as well as felt their effects. Within the forest it was a
deeply interesting, but by no means an awe-exciting phenomenon. The
tides were very curiously affected. The great shock took place at
the time of low water; and an old woman who was on the beach told
me, that the water flowed very quickly, but not in big waves, to
high-water mark, and then as quickly returned to its proper level;
this was also evident by the line of wet sand. This same kind of
quick but quiet movement in the tide happened a few years since at
Chiloe, during a slight earthquake, and created much causeless alarm.
In the course of the evening there were other weaker shocks, all of
which seemed to produce in the harbour the most complicated currents,
and some of great strength.
22D.--We sailed from Valdivia, and on the 4th of March, entered
the harbour of Concepcion. While the ship was beating up to the
anchorage, which is distant several miles, I was landed on the island
of Quiriquina. The mayor-domo of the estate quickly rode down to tell
us the terrible news of the great earthquake of the 20th;--“that not
a house in Concepcion, or Talcuhano, (the port) was standing; that
seventy villages were destroyed; and that a great wave had almost
washed away the ruins of Talcuhano.” Of this latter fact I soon saw
abundant proof; the whole coast being strewed over with timber and
furniture, as if a thousand great ships had been wrecked. Besides
chairs, tables, bookshelves, &c., in great numbers, there were
several roofs of cottages, which had been drifted in an almost entire
state. The storehouses at Talcuhano had burst open, and great bags
of cotton, yerba, and other valuable merchandise, were scattered
about on the shore. During my walk round the island, I observed
that numerous fragments of rock, which, from the marine productions
adhering to them, must recently have been lying in deep water, had
been cast up high on the beach. One of these was a slab six feet by
three, and about two feet thick.
The island itself as plainly showed the overwhelming power of the
earthquake, as the beach did that of the consequent great wave. The
ground was fissured in many parts, in north and south lines; which
direction perhaps was caused by the yielding of the parallel and
steep sides of the narrow island. Some of the fissures near the
cliffs were a yard wide: many enormous masses had already fallen
on the beach; and the inhabitants thought, that when the rains
commenced, even much greater slips would happen. The effect of the
vibration on the hard primary slate, which composes the foundation
of the island, was still more curious: the superficial parts of
some narrow ridges were as completely shivered, as if they had been
blasted by gunpowder. This effect, which was rendered very evident by
the fresh fractures and displaced soil, must, during earthquakes, be
confined to near the surface, for otherwise there would not exist
a block of solid rock throughout Chile. This limited action is not
improbable, as it is certain, that the surface of any body, when
vibrating, is in a different condition from the central parts. It is,
perhaps, owing to this same reason, that earthquakes do not cause
quite such terrific havoc within deep mines, as would at first have
been expected. I believe this convulsion has been more effectual in
lessening the size of the island of Quiriquina, than the ordinary
wear and tear of the weather and the sea during the course of an
entire century.
The next day I landed at Talcuhano, and afterwards rode to
Concepcion. Captain FitzRoy has given so detailed and accurate an
account of the earthquake, that it is almost useless for me to say
any thing on the subject; but I will extract a few passages from
my journal. Both towns presented the most awful yet interesting
spectacle I ever beheld. To a person who had formerly known the
places, it possibly might have been still more impressive; for the
ruins were so mingled together, and the whole scene possessed so
little the air of a habitable place, that it was scarcely possible to
imagine its former appearance or condition. The earthquake commenced
at half-past eleven in the forenoon. If it had happened in the middle
of the night the greater number of the inhabitants (which in this
one province amount to many thousands),[2] instead of less than a
hundred, must have perished. In Concepcion, each house, or row of
houses, stood by itself, a heap or line of ruins; but in Talcuhano,
owing to the great wave, little more than one layer of bricks, tiles,
and timber, with here and there part of a wall left standing, could
be distinguished. From this circumstance, Concepcion, although not so
completely desolated, was a more terrible, and if I may so call it,
picturesque sight. The first shock was very sudden. The invariable
practice among the residents in these provinces, of running out
of doors at the first trembling of the ground, alone saved them.
The mayor-domo at Quiriquina told me, that the first notice he
received of the earthquake, was finding both the horse he rode, and
himself, rolling together on the ground. Rising up, he was again
thrown down. He also told me that some cows, which were standing on
the steep sides of the island, were rolled into the sea. The great
wave, however, was far more destructive in this respect: on one low
island near the head of the bay, seventy animals were washed off
and drowned. It is generally thought that this has been the worst
earthquake ever recorded in Chile; but as the very bad ones occur
only after long intervals, this cannot easily be known; nor indeed
would a much more severe shock have made any great difference, for
the ruin is now complete.
After viewing Concepcion, I cannot understand how the greater
number of inhabitants escaped unhurt. The houses in many parts fell
outwards; thus forming in the middle of the streets little hillocks
of brickwork and rubbish. Mr. Rous, the English consul, told us that
he was at breakfast when the first movement warned him to run out.
He had scarcely reached the middle of the courtyard, when one side
of his house came thundering down. He retained presence of mind to
remember, that if he once got on the top of that part which had
already fallen, he should be safe. Not being able, from the motion
of the ground, to stand, he crawled up on his hands and knees; and
no sooner had he ascended this little eminence, than the other side
of the house fell in, the great beams sweeping close in front of his
head. With his eyes blinded, and his mouth choked with the cloud of
dust which darkened the sky, at last he gained the street. As shock
succeeded shock, at the interval of a few minutes, no one dared
approach the shattered ruins; and no one knew whether his dearest
friends and relations might not be perishing from the want of help.
The thatched roofs fell over the fires, and flames burst forth in all
parts. Hundreds knew themselves to be ruined, and few had the means
of providing food for the day. Can a more miserable and fearful scene
be imagined?
Earthquakes alone are sufficient to destroy the prosperity of
any country. If, for instance, beneath England, the now inert
subterranean forces should exert those powers which most assuredly
in former geological ages they have exerted, how completely would
the entire condition of the country be changed! What would become
of the lofty houses, thickly-packed cities, great manufacturies,
the beautiful public and private edifices? If the new period of
disturbance were first to commence by some great earthquake in the
dead of the night, how terrific would be the carnage! England would
at once be bankrupt; all papers, records, and accounts would from
that moment be lost. Government being unable to collect the taxes,
and failing to maintain its authority, the hand of violence and
rapine would go uncontrolled. In every large town famine would be
proclaimed, pestilence and death following in its train.
Captain FitzRoy has given an account of the great wave, which,
travelling from seaward, burst over Talcuhano. In the middle of the
bay it was seen as one unbroken swell of the water; but on each
side, meeting with resistance, it curled over, and tore up cottages
and trees as it swept onwards with overwhelming force. At the head
of the bay it is easy to imagine the fearful line of white breakers
which three times rushed over, and almost obliterated, the ruins of
the former town. Pools of salt water yet remained in the streets;
and children, making boats with old tables and chairs, appeared as
happy as their parents were miserable. It was, however, exceedingly
interesting to observe how active and cheerful all appeared, after
their heavy misfortune. It was remarked with much truth, that from
the destruction being universal, no one individual was humbled
more than another, or could suspect his friends of coldness; and
this latter effect is perhaps the most grievous one of the loss
of wealth. Mr. Rous, and a large party whom he kindly took under
his protection; lived for the first week in a garden beneath some
apple-trees. At first they were as merry as if it had been a picnic;
but soon afterwards heavy rain caused much discomfort, for they were
absolutely without shelter.
In Captain FitzRoy’s paper it is said that two explosions, one like a
column of smoke, and another like the blowing of a great whale, were
seen in the bay of Concepcion. The water also appeared every where
to be boiling; and it “became black, and exhaled a most disagreeable
sulphureous smell.” I am informed by Mr. Alison, that during the
earthquake of 1822 these last-mentioned circumstances occurred in
the bay of Valparaiso. The two great explosions in the first case
must no doubt be connected with deep-seated changes; but the bubbling
water, its black colour and fetid smell, the usual concomitants of a
severe earthquake, may, I think, be attributed to the disturbance of
mud containing organic matter in decay. In the bay of Callao, during
a calm day, I noticed, that as the ship dragged her cable over the
bottom, its course was marked by a line of bubbles.
The lower orders in Talcuhano thought that the earthquake was caused
by some old Indian women, who two years ago having been offended,
stopped the volcano of Antuco. This silly belief is curious, because
it shows that experience has taught them to observe the constant
relation between the suppressed activity of volcanoes, and the
trembling of the ground. It was necessary to apply the witchcraft to
the point where their knowledge stopped; and this was the closing of
the volcanic vent. This saying is the more odd in this particular
instance, because the result of Captain FitzRoy’s investigation was
to discountenance the belief that Antuco (whatever might have been
the case with the volcanoes further northward) was any way affected.
The town of Concepcion was built in the usual Spanish fashion, with
all the streets running at right angles to each other. One set ranged
S.W. by W. and N.E. by E., and the other N.W. by N. and S.E. by S.
The walls in the former direction certainly stood better than those
in the other. Captain FitzRoy[3] has likewise remarked, that the
greater number of the masses of brickwork were thrown down towards
the N.E. Both these circumstances perfectly agree with the general
idea of the undulation having come from the S.W.; in which quarter
subterranean noises were also sometimes heard. It is evident on this
supposition, that the N.W. and S. E. walls, being nearly coincident
with the line of undulation (or with the crests of the successive
waves), would be much more likely to fall than those which had
their extremities presented towards the point whence the vibration
proceeded; for, in the first case, the whole wall would be thrown at
the same moment out of its perpendicular. This may be illustrated
by placing books edgewise on a carpet, and then, after the manner
suggested by Michell, imitating the undulations of an earthquake: it
will be found, that they fall with more or less readiness, according
to their direction. The fissures in the ground, though not uniform,
generally had a S.E. and N.W. direction;[4] and therefore they
corresponded to the lines of principal flexure. Bearing in mind all
these circumstances, which so clearly point to the S.W. as the chief
focus of disturbance, it is a very interesting fact that the island
of S. Maria,[4] situated in that quarter, was during the general
uplifting of the land (to which I shall presently refer) raised to
nearly three times the altitude of any other part of the coast.
The different resistance offered by the walls, according to their
direction, was well exemplified in the case of the cathedral. The
side which fronted the N.E. presented a grand pile of ruins, in
the midst of which door-cases and masses of timber stood up, as if
floating in a stream. Some of the angular blocks of brickwork were of
great dimensions; and they had been rolled to a distance on the level
plaza, like fragments of rock round the base of some high mountain.
The side walls, though exceedingly fractured, yet remained standing;
but the vast buttresses (at right angles to them, and therefore
parallel to the walls that fell) were in many cases cut clean off, as
if by a chisel, and hurled to the ground.
Some square ornaments on the coping of these same walls were moved by
the earthquake into a diagonal position. The buttresses of the church
of La Merced, at Valparaiso, and some heavy pieces of furniture in
the rooms, were similarly affected by the shock of 1822.[5] Mr.
Lyell[6] has also given a drawing of an obelisk in Calabria, of which
the separate stones were partially turned round. In these instances,
the displacement at first appears to be owing to a vorticose movement
beneath each point thus affected; but such can hardly be the case.
May it not be caused by a tendency in each stone to arrange itself in
some particular position, with respect to the lines of vibration,--in
a manner somewhat similar to pins on a sheet of paper, or on a board,
when it is shaken? Generally speaking, arched doorways or windows
stood much better than any other kind of building. Nevertheless, a
poor lame old man, who had been in the habit, during trifling shocks,
of crawling to a certain doorway, was this time crushed to pieces.
I have not attempted to give any detailed description of the
appearance of Concepcion, for I feel it is quite impossible to
convey the mingled feelings with which one beholds such a spectacle.
Several of the officers visited it before me, but their strongest
language failed to communicate a just idea of the desolation. It is
a bitter and humiliating thing to see works, which have cost men so
much time and labour, overthrown in one minute; yet compassion for
the inhabitants is almost instantly forgotten, from the interest
excited in finding that state of things produced in a moment of time,
which one is accustomed to attribute to a succession of ages. In my
opinion, we have scarcely beheld since leaving England, any other
sight so deeply interesting.
In almost every severe earthquake which has been described, the
neighbouring waters of the sea are said to have been greatly
agitated. The disturbance seems generally, as in the case of
Concepcion, to have been of two kinds: first, at the instant of the
shock, the water swells high up on the beach, with a gentle motion,
and then as quietly retreats; secondly, some little time afterwards,
the whole body of the sea retires from the coast, and then returns
in great waves of overwhelming force. The first and less regular
movement seems to be an immediate consequence of the earthquake
differently affecting a fluid and a solid, so that their respective
levels are slightly deranged. But the second case is a far more
important phenomenon, and at first appears of less easy explanation.
In reading accounts of earthquakes, and especially of those on the
west coast of America, as collated from various authors by Sir W.
Parish,[7] it is certain that the first great movement of the waters
has been that of retiring. Several hypotheses[8] have been invented
to explain this fact. Some have supposed it owing to a vertical
oscillation in the land, the water retaining its level: but this can
hardly happen, even on a moderately shoal coast; for the water near
the land must partake of the motion of the bottom. Moreover, as Mr.
Lyell has urged, a change of level in the land will not account for
movements in the sea, of a similar nature, affecting islands distant
from the line of uplifted coast. This occurred at Madeira during
the famous Lisbon earthquake. Juan Fernandez also offers a parallel
instance; for the sea was disturbed there much in the same manner as
on the coast of Chile.
The whole phenomenon, it appears to me, is due to a common undulation
in the water, proceeding from a line or point of disturbance, some
little way distant. If the waves sent off from the paddles of a
steam-vessel be watched breaking on the sloping shore of a still
river, the water will be seen first to retire two or three feet,
and then to return in little breakers, precisely analogous to those
consequent on an earthquake. From the oblique direction in which the
waves are sent off from the paddles, the vessel has proceeded a long
way ahead, before the undulation reaches the shore; and hence it is
at once manifest, that this movement bears no relation to the actual
displacement of the fluid from the bulk of the vessel. Indeed, it
seems a general circumstance, that in all cases where the equilibrium
of an undulation is thus destroyed, the water is drawn from the
resisting surface to form the advancing breaker.[9] Considering then
a wave produced by an earthquake as an ordinary undulation proceeding
from some point or line in the offing, we can see the cause, first
of its occurrence some time after the shock; secondly, of its
affecting the shores of the mainland and of outlying islets in a
uniform manner--namely, the water retiring first, and then returning
in a mountainous breaker; and lastly, of its size being modified
(as appears to be the case) by the form of the neighbouring coast.
For instance Talcuhano and Callao are situated at the head of great
shoaling bays, and they have always suffered from this phenomenon;
whereas, the town of Valparaiso, which is seated close on the border
of a profound ocean, though shaken by the severest earthquakes, has
never been overwhelmed by one of these terrific deluges. On this
view, we have only to imagine, in the case of Concepcion, a point
of disturbance in the bottom of the sea in a south-west direction,
whence the wave was seen to travel, and where the land was elevated
to a greater height than any other part,--and the whole phenomenon
will be explained.
It is probable that near every coast, the chief line of disturbance
would be situated at that distance in the offing, where the fluid
which was most agitated, from overlying the shallow bottom near the
land, joined on to that part which covered the depths (but slightly
moved) of the ocean. In all distant parts of the coast the small
oscillations of the sea, both at the moment of the great shock,
and during the lesser following ones, would be confounded with the
undulation propagated from the focus of disturbance, and hence the
series of movements would be undistinguishable.
The most remarkable effect (or perhaps speaking more correctly,
cause) of this earthquake was the permanent elevation of the land.
Captain FitzRoy having twice visited the island of Santa Maria, for
the purpose of examining every circumstance with extreme accuracy,
has brought a mass of evidence in proof of such elevation, far more
conclusive than that on which geologists on most other occasions
place implicit faith. The phenomenon possesses an uncommon degree
of interest, from this particular part of the coast of Chile having
previously been the theatre of several earthquakes of the worst
class. It is almost certain, from the altered soundings, together
with the circumstance of the bottom of the bay near Penco, consisting
of hard stone, that there has been an uplifting to the amount of four
fathoms, since the famous convulsion of 1751. With this additional
instance fresh before us, we may assume as probable, according to
the principles laid down by Mr. Lyell,[10] other small successive
elevations, and may fearlessly maintain that the problem of the
raised shells,[11] recorded by Ulloa, is explained.
Some of the consequences which may be deduced from the phenomena
connected with this earthquake are most important in a geological
point of view; but in the present work I cannot do more than simply
allude to the results. Although it is known that earthquakes have
been felt over enormous spaces, and strange subterranean noises
likewise heard over nearly equal areas, yet few cases are on record
of volcanoes, very far distant from each other, bursting out at the
same moment of time. In this instance, however, at the same hour
when the whole country around Concepcion was permanently elevated,
a train of volcanoes situated in the Andes, in front of Chiloe,
instantaneously spouted out a dark column of smoke, and during the
subsequent year continued in uncommon activity. It is, moreover, a
very interesting circumstance, that, in the immediate neighbourhood,
these eruptions entirely relieved the trembling ground, although
at a little distance, and in sight of the volcanoes, the island of
Chiloe was strongly affected. To the northward, a volcano burst out
at the bottom of the sea adjoining the island of Juan Fernandez,
and several of the great chimneys in the Cordillera of central
Chile commenced a fresh period of activity. We thus see a permanent
elevation of the land, renewed activity through habitual vents, and
a submarine outburst, forming parts of one great phenomenon. The
extent of country throughout which the subterranean forces were thus
unequivocally displayed, measures 700 by 400 geographical miles.
From several considerations, which I have not space here to enter
on, and especially from the number of intermediate points whence
liquefied matter was ejected, we can scarcely avoid the conclusion,
however fearful it may be, that a vast lake of melted matter, of an
area nearly doubling in extent that of the Black Sea, is spread out
beneath a mere crust of solid land.
The elevation of the land to the amount of some feet during these
earthquakes, appears to be a paroxysmal movement, in a series of
lesser and even insensible steps, by which the whole west coast of
South America has been raised above the level of the sea. In the
same manner, the most violent explosion from any volcano is merely
one in a series of lesser eruptions: and we have seen that both
these phenomena, which are in so many ways related, are parts of one
common action, only modified by local circumstances. With respect
to the cause of the paroxysmal convulsion in particular portions of
the great area which is simultaneously affected, it can be shown to
be extremely probable, that it is owing to the giving way of the
superincumbent strata, (and this giving way probably is a consequence
of the tension from the general elevation) and their interjection by
fluid rock--one step in the formation of a mountain chain. On this
view we are led to conclude, that the unstratified mass forming the
axis of any mountain, has been pumped in when in a fluid state, by
as many separate strokes as there were earthquakes. For instance, in
the case of Concepcion, during the few months subsequent to the great
shock, upwards of three hundred tremours of the ground were felt,
each of which indicated a fresh fracture, and injection of the fluid
stone. It is a case precisely analogous to what happens in all bad
eruptions, which are invariably followed by a succession of smaller
ones: the difference is, that in the volcano the lava is ejected,
while in the formation of a mountain chain it is injected. This view
of the extremely gradual elevation of a line of mountains, will
alone explain the difficulty (which, as far as I am aware, has never
been attempted to be solved) of the axis consisting of rock which
has become solid under the pressure of the superincumbent strata,
while yet these same strata, in their present inclined and vertical
positions, cannot possibly cover more than a small portion of that
axis.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] In another work I shall have occasion to refer to this eruption,
which is connected with one of the grandest series of volcanic
phenomena on record.
[2] Miers estimates them at 40,000; but the towns in some of the
other provinces were likewise overthrown.
[3] Sketch of Surveying Voyages of Adventure and Beagle by Captain
FitzRoy, Royal Geograph. Journal, vol. vi., p. 320.
[4] Ditto, p. 327, _et passim_.
[5] Miers’s Chile, vol. i., p. 392.
[6] Lyell’s Principles of Geology, chap. xv., book ii.
[7] Sir W. Parish had the kindness to lend me the original
manuscript, which was read before the Geological Society, March 5th,
1835.
[8] Lyell’s Geology, book ii., ch. xvi.
[9] I am indebted to Mr. Whewell for explaining to me the probable
movements on the shore, of an undulation of which the equilibrium has
been destroyed.
[10] Lyell’s Geology, book ii., chap. xvi.
[11] I saw these shells in very great quantities on the flanks of the
island of Quiriquina.