San Carlos, Chiloe—Osorno in eruption, contemporaneously with Aconcagua
and Coseguina—Ride to Cucao—Impenetrable
forests—Valdivia—Indians—Earthquake—Concepcion—Great earthquake—Rocks
fissured—Appearance of the former towns—The sea black and
boiling—Direction of the vibrations—Stones twisted round—Great
wave—Permanent elevation of the land—Area of volcanic phenomena—The
connection between the elevatory and eruptive forces—Cause of
earthquakes—Slow elevation of mountain-chains.
CHILOE AND CONCEPCION: GREAT EARTHQUAKE
On January the 15th, 1835 we sailed from Low’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 action. At midnight
the sentry observed something like a large star, which gradually
increased in size till about three o’clock, when it presented a very
magnificent
spectacle. By the aid of a glass, dark objects, in constant succession,
were seen, in the midst of a great glare of red light, to be thrown up
and to fall down. The light was sufficient to cast on the water a long
bright reflection. Large masses of molten matter seem very commonly to
be cast out of the craters in this part of the Cordillera. I was
assured that when the Corcovado is in eruption, great masses are
projected upwards and are seen to burst in the air, assuming many
fantastical forms, such as trees: their size must be immense, for they
can be distinguished from the high land behind S. Carlos, which is no
less than ninety-three miles from the Corcovado. In the morning the
volcano became tranquil.
Panoramic view of coast
I was surprised at hearing afterwards that Aconcagua in Chile, 480
miles northwards, was in action on the same night; and still more
surprised to hear that the great eruption of Coseguina (2700 miles
north of Aconcagua), accompanied by an earthquake felt over 1000 miles,
also occurred within six hours of this same time. This coincidence is
the more remarkable, as Coseguina had been dormant for twenty-six
years: and Aconcagua most rarely shows any signs of action. It is
difficult even to conjecture whether this coincidence was accidental,
or shows some subterranean connection. If Vesuvius, Etna, and Hecla in
Iceland (all three relatively nearer each other than the corresponding
points in South America),
suddenly burst forth in eruption on the same night, the coincidence
would be thought remarkable; but it is far more remarkable in this
case, where the three vents fall on the same great mountain-chain, and
where the vast plains along the entire eastern coast, and the upraised
recent shells along more than 2000 miles on the western coast, show in
how equable and connected a manner the elevatory forces have acted.
Inside island of Chiloe
Captain Fitz Roy 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 22nd. 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 firearms. At first the country consisted of a
succession of hills and valleys: nearer to Castro it became very level.
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 laid longitudinally, or narrow and placed
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 had been
displaced, they skipped from one to the other, almost with the
quickness and certainty of a dog. On both hands the road is bordered by
the lofty forest-trees, with their bases matted together by canes. When
occasionally a long reach of this avenue could be beheld, it presented
a curious scene of uniformity: the white line of logs, narrowing in
perspective, became hidden by the gloomy forest, or 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 ever 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 hardly dissipate the
effect of 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, absent
in those of countries long civilised. 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_ 23_rd._—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 a Chileno was acting in his place. We had a letter
of introduction to Don Pedro, whom we found exceedingly hospitable and
kind, and more disinterested than is usual 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. 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 nothing would persuade him that two
Englishmen really wished to go to such an out-of-the-way place as
Cucao. We were thus 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 across the island, following
intricate winding paths, sometimes passing through magnificent forests,
and sometimes through pretty cleared spots, abounding with corn and
potato crops. This undulating woody country, partially cultivated,
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 were cleared; and all the
inhabitants appeared 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-oarsman gabbled Indian, and uttered strange cries, much
after the fashion of a pig-driver driving his pigs. We started with a
light breeze against us, but yet reached the Capella de Cucao before it
was late. 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 tolerably 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. These feelings are, 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 rode a few miles northward to Punta
Huantamó. 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 everywhere 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 Low’s
Harbour the Chilotans making chichi, or cider, with this fruit: so true
is it, as Humboldt remarks, that almost everywhere 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 north 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 was
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 roasted
corn, and of this they eat sparingly twice a day.
26_th._—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 north, stood out in
proud pre-eminence: scarcely another peak in the long range showed its
snowy summit. I hope it will be long before I forget this farewell view
of the magnificent Cordillera fronting 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_ 4_th._—Sailed from Chiloe. During the last week I made
several short excursions. One was to examine a great bed of
now-existing shells, elevated 350 feet 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 endless Indian names 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 features 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 the poor inhabitants.
We steered northward along shore, but owing to thick weather did not
reach Valdivia till the night of the 8th. The next morning 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 evidently self-sown. 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
in the early spring, 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. During the ensuing summer the stump
throws out 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. In the third season the stump is changed (as I have
myself seen) into a well-wooded tree, loaded with fruit. An old man
near Valdivia illustrated his motto, “Necesidad es la madre del
invencion,” by giving an account of the several useful things he
manufactured from his apples. After making cider, and likewise wine, he
extracted from the refuse a white and finely flavoured spirit; by
another process he procured a sweet treacle, or, as he called it,
honey. His children and pigs seemed almost to live, during this season
of the year, in his orchard.
_February_ 11_th._—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 a new aspect to the forest compared
with 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 has a brighter tint. As in
Chiloe, the lower parts are matted together by canes: here also another
kind (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: on these journeys the first night is generally very
uncomfortable, because one 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.
12_th._—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 a 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 in the
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 stood, as in an English park: I have
often noticed with surprise, in wooded undulatory districts, that the
quite level parts have been destitute of trees. On account of the tired
horse, I determined to stop 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 dependent on Valdivia are “reducidos y cristianos.”
The Indians farther northward, about Arauco and Imperial, are still
very wild, and not converted; but they have all much intercourse with
the Spaniards. The padre said that the Christian Indians did not much
like coming to mass, but that otherwise they showed 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. Each
wife lives a week in turn with the cacique;
but all are employed in weaving ponchos, etc., for his profit. To be
the wife of a cacique is an honour much sought after by the Indian
women.
The men of all these tribes wear a coarse woolen poncho: those south of
Valdivia wear short trousers, and those north of it a petticoat, like
the chilipa of the Gauchos. All have their long hair bound by a scarlet
fillet, but with no other covering on their heads. These Indians are
good-sized men; their cheek-bones are 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 I. 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! The next day, on our
return, we met seven very wild-looking Indians, of whom some were
caciques that had just received from the Chilian government their
yearly small stipend for having 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
daresay grateful, they would hardly condescend to thank me. A Chilotan
Indian would have taken off his hat, and given his “Dios le page!” 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 7000 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 be changed
into a heap of mould.
_February_ 20_th._—This 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 very sensible. The undulations appeared to my companion and myself
to come from due east, whilst others thought they proceeded from
south-west: this shows how difficult it sometimes is to perceive the
direction of the 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 our oldest associations: the earth,
the very emblem of solidity, has moved beneath our feet like a thin
crust over a fluid;—one second of time has created in the mind a
strange idea of insecurity, which hours of reflection would not have
produced. In the forest, as a breeze moved the trees, I felt only the
earth tremble, but saw no other effect. Captain Fitz Roy and some
officers were at the town during the shock, and there the scene was
more striking; for although the houses, from being built of wood, did
not fall, they were violently shaken, and the boards creaked and
rattled together. The people rushed out of doors in the greatest alarm.
It is these accompaniments that create that perfect horror of
earthquakes, experienced by all 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 great waves, to high-water mark, and then as
quickly returned to its proper level; this was also evident by the line
of wet sand. The 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
many weaker shocks, which seemed to produce in the harbour the most
complicated currents, and some of great strength.
_March_ 4_th._—We entered the harbour of Concepcion.
While the ship was beating up to the anchorage, I landed on the island
of Quiriquina. The mayor-domo of the estate quickly rode down to tell
me the terrible news of the great earthquake of the 20th:—“That not a
house in Concepcion or Talcahuano (the port) was standing; that seventy
villages were destroyed; and that a great wave had almost washed away
the ruins of Talcahuano.” Of this latter statement I soon saw abundant
proofs—the whole coast being strewed over with timber and furniture as
if a thousand ships had been wrecked. Besides chairs, tables,
book-shelves, etc., in great numbers, there were several roofs of
cottages, which had been transported almost whole. The storehouses at
Talcahuano had been burst open, and great bags of cotton, yerba, and
other valuable merchandise were scattered 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 six feet long, three broad, and two 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 in many parts was fissured in north and south lines, perhaps
caused by the yielding of the parallel and steep sides of this 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 far 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 conspicuous
by the fresh fractures and displaced soil, must be confined to near the
surface, for otherwise there would not exist a block of solid rock
throughout Chile; nor is this improbable, as it is known that the
surface of a vibrating body is affected differently from the central
part. It is, perhaps, owing to this same reason that earthquakes do not
cause quite such terrific havoc within deep mines as would be 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 sea and weather
during the course of a whole century.
The next day I landed at Talcahuano, and afterwards rode to Concepcion.
Both towns presented the most awful yet interesting spectacle I ever
beheld. To a person who had formerly known them, 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 condition. The
earthquake commenced at half-past eleven o’clock 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) must
have perished, instead of less than a hundred: as it was, the
invariable practice of running out of doors at the first trembling of
the ground, alone saved them. In Concepcion each house, or row of
houses, stood by itself, a heap or line of ruins; but in Talcahuano,
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 mayor-domo at
Quiriquina told me that the first notice he received of it, 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 side of the island were rolled into
the sea. The great wave caused the destruction of many cattle; 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 severe ones occur
only after long intervals, this cannot easily be known; nor indeed
would a much worse shock have made any great difference, for the ruin
was now complete. Innumerable small tremblings followed the great
earthquake, and within the first twelve days no less than three hundred
were counted.
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. Rouse, 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 would 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 were not perishing from the want of help. Those
who had saved any property were obliged to keep a constant watch, for
thieves prowled about, and at each little trembling of the ground, with
one hand they beat their breasts and cried “misericordia!” and then
with the other filched what they could from the ruins. The thatched
roofs fell over the fires, and flames burst forth in all parts.
Hundreds knew themselves ruined, and few had the means of providing
food for the day.
Earthquakes alone are sufficient to destroy the prosperity of any
country. If 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 manufactories, 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 remain uncontrolled. In every large town famine would go
forth, pestilence and death following in its train.
Shortly after the shock, a great wave was seen from the
distance of three or four miles, approaching in the middle of the bay
with a smooth outline; but along the shore it tore up cottages and
trees, as it swept onwards with irresistible force. At the head of the
bay it broke in a fearful line of white breakers, which rushed up to a
height of 23 vertical feet above the highest spring-tides. Their force
must have been prodigious; for at the Fort a cannon with its carriage,
estimated at four tons in weight, was moved 15 feet inwards. A schooner
was left in the midst of the ruins, 200 yards from the beach. The first
wave was followed by two others, which in their retreat carried away a
vast wreck of floating objects. In one part of the bay, a ship was
pitched high and dry on shore, was carried off, again driven on shore,
and again carried off. In another part two large vessels anchored near
together were whirled about, and their cables were thrice wound round
each other: though anchored at a depth of 36 feet, they were for some
minutes aground. The great wave must have travelled slowly, for the
inhabitants of Talcahuano had time to run up the hills behind the town;
and some sailors pulled out seaward, trusting successfully to their
boat riding securely over the swell, if they could reach it before it
broke. One old woman with a little boy, four or five years old, ran
into a boat, but there was nobody to row it out: the boat was
consequently dashed against an anchor and cut in twain; the old woman
was drowned, but the child was picked up some hours afterwards clinging
to the wreck. Pools of salt-water were still standing amidst the ruins
of the houses, 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 much more active and cheerful
all appeared than could have been expected. 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—that most grievous result of the loss of wealth. Mr. Rouse,
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 Fitz Roy’s excellent account of the earthquake 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. The
water also appeared everywhere to be boiling; and it “became black, and
exhaled a most disagreeable sulphureous smell.” These latter
circumstances were observed in the Bay of Valparaiso during the
earthquake of 1822; they may, I think, be accounted for by the
disturbance of the mud at the bottom of the sea 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 Talcahuano thought
that the earthquake was caused by some old Indian women, who two years
ago, being offended, stopped the volcano of Antuco. This silly belief
is curious, because it shows that experience has taught them to observe
that there exists a relation between the suppressed action of the
volcanos, and the trembling of the ground. It was necessary to apply
the witchcraft to the point where their perception of cause and effect
failed; and this was the closing of the volcanic vent. This belief is
the more singular in this particular instance because, according to
Captain Fitz Roy, there is reason to believe that Antuco was noways
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 ranging
south-west by west, and the other set north-west by north. The walls in
the former direction certainly stood better than those in the latter;
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 undulations having come from the S.W.; in which quarter
subterranean noises were also heard; for it is evident that the walls
running S.W. and N.E. which presented their ends to the point whence
the undulations came, would be much less likely to fall than those
walls which, running N.W. and S.E., must in their whole lengths have
been at the same instant thrown out of the perpendicular; for the
undulations, coming from the S.W., must have extended in N.W. and S.E.
waves, as they passed under the foundations. This may be illustrated by
placing books edgeways 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 as their direction more or less nearly coincides
with the line of the waves. The fissures in the ground generally,
though not uniformly, extended in a S.E. and N.W. direction, and
therefore corresponded to the lines of undulation or 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, situated in that quarter,
was, during the general uplifting of the land, raised to nearly three
times the height 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 were rolled to a distance on the level plaza, like
fragments of rock at the base of some high mountain. The side walls
(running S.W. and N.E.), 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. A similar circumstance was observed after an
earthquake at Valparaiso, Calabria, and other places, including some of
the ancient Greek temples.[1] This twisting displacement at first
appears to indicate a vorticose movement beneath each point thus
affected; but this is highly improbable. 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 when shaken? Generally speaking, arched
doorways or windows stood much better than any other part of the
buildings. 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.
[1] M. Arago in _L’Institut_, 1839, p. 337. See also Miers’s _Chile_,
vol. i, p. 392; also Lyell’s _ Principles of Geology_, chap. xv, book
ii.
I have not attempted to give any detailed description of the appearance
of Concepcion, for I feel that it is quite
impossible to convey the mingled feelings which I experienced. Several
of the officers visited it before me, but their strongest language
failed to give a just idea of the scene of desolation. It is a bitter
and humiliating thing to see works, which have cost man so much time
and labour, overthrown in one minute; yet compassion for the
inhabitants was almost instantly banished, by the surprise in seeing a
state of things produced in a moment of time, which one was accustomed
to attribute to a succession of ages. In my opinion, we have scarcely
beheld, since leaving England, any sight so deeply interesting.
In almost every severe earthquake, 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 time afterwards, the whole body of the sea retires from the coast,
and then returns in waves of overwhelming force. The first movement
seems to be an immediate consequence of the earthquake affecting
differently a fluid and a solid, so that their respective levels are
slightly deranged: but the second case is a far more important
phenomenon. During most earthquakes, and especially during those on the
west coast of America, it is certain that the first great movement of
the waters has been a retirement. Some authors have attempted to
explain this, by supposing that the water retains its level, whilst the
land oscillates upwards; but surely the water close to the land, even
on a rather steep coast, would partake of the motion of the bottom:
moreover, as urged by Mr. Lyell, similar movements of the sea have
occurred at islands far distant from the chief line of disturbance, as
was the case with Juan Fernandez during this earthquake, and with
Madeira during the famous Lisbon shock. I suspect (but the subject is a
very obscure one) that a wave, however produced, first draws the water
from the shore, on which it is advancing to break: I have observed that
this happens with the little waves from the paddles of a steam-boat. It
is remarkable that whilst Talcahuano and Callao (near Lima), both
situated at the head of large shallow bays, have suffered during every
severe earthquake from great waves, Valparaiso, seated close to the
edge of profoundly deep water, has never
been overwhelmed, though so often shaken by the severest shocks. From
the great wave not immediately following the earthquake, but sometimes
after the interval of even half an hour, and from distant islands being
affected similarly with the coasts near the focus of the disturbance,
it appears that the wave first rises in the offing; and as this is of
general occurrence, the cause must be general: I suspect we must look
to the line where the less disturbed waters of the deep ocean join the
water nearer the coast, which has partaken of the movements of the
land, as the place where the great wave is first generated; it would
also appear that the wave is larger or smaller, according to the extent
of shoal water which has been agitated together with the bottom on
which it rested.
The most remarkable effect of this earthquake was the permanent
elevation of the land; it would probably be far more correct to speak
of it as the cause. There can be no doubt that the land round the Bay
of Concepcion was upraised two or three feet; but it deserves notice,
that owing to the wave having obliterated the old lines of tidal action
on the sloping sandy shores, I could discover no evidence of this fact,
except in the united testimony of the inhabitants, that one little
rocky shoal, now exposed, was formerly covered with water. At the
island of S. Maria (about thirty miles distant) the elevation was
greater; on one part, Captain Fitz Roy found beds of putrid
mussel-shells _still adhering to the rocks,_ ten feet above high-water
mark: the inhabitants had formerly dived at lower-water spring-tides
for these shells. The elevation of this province is particularly
interesting, from its having been the theatre of several other violent
earthquakes, and from the vast numbers of sea-shells scattered over the
land, up to a height of certainly 600, and I believe, of 1000 feet. At
Valparaiso, as I have remarked, similar shells are found at the height
of 1300 feet: it is hardly possible to doubt that this great elevation
has been effected by successive small uprisings, such as that which
accompanied or caused the earthquake of this year, and likewise by an
insensibly slow rise, which is certainly in progress on some parts of
this coast.
The island of Juan Fernandez, 360 miles to the N.E., was, at the time
of the great shock of the 20th, violently shaken, so
that the trees beat against each other, and a volcano burst forth under
water close to the shore: these facts are remarkable because this
island, during the earthquake of 1751, was then also affected more
violently than other places at an equal distance from Concepcion, and
this seems to show some subterranean connexion between these two
points. Chiloe, about 340 miles southward of Concepcion, appears to
have been shaken more strongly than the intermediate district of
Valdivia, where the volcano of Villarica was noways affected, whilst in
the Cordillera in front of Chiloe two of the volcanos burst forth at
the same instant in violent action. These two volcanos, and some
neighbouring ones, continued for a long time in eruption, and ten
months afterwards were again influenced by an earthquake at Concepcion.
Some men cutting wood near the base of one of these volcanos, did not
perceive the shock of the 20th, although the whole surrounding Province
was then trembling; here we have an eruption relieving and taking the
place of an earthquake, as would have happened at Concepcion, according
to the belief of the lower orders, if the volcano at Antuco had not
been closed by witchcraft. Two years and three-quarters afterwards
Valdivia and Chiloe were again shaken, more violently than on the 20th,
and an island in the Chonos Archipelago was permanently elevated more
than eight feet. It will give a better idea of the scale of these
phenomena, if (as in the case of the glaciers) we suppose them to have
taken place at corresponding distances in Europe:—then would the land
from the North Sea to the Mediterranean have been violently shaken, and
at the same instant of time a large tract of the eastern coast of
England would have been permanently elevated, together with some
outlying islands,—a train of volcanos on the coast of Holland would
have burst forth in action, and an eruption taken place at the bottom
of the sea, near the northern extremity of Ireland—and lastly, the
ancient vents of Auvergne, Cantal, and Mont d’Or would each have sent
up to the sky a dark column of smoke, and have long remained in fierce
action. Two years and three-quarters afterwards, France, from its
centre to the English Channel, would have been again desolated by an
earthquake, and an island permanently upraised in the Mediterranean.
The space, from under which volcanic matter on the 20th was actually
erupted, is 720 miles in one line, and 400 miles in another line at
right angles to the first: hence, in all probability, a subterranean
lake of lava is here stretched out, of nearly double the area of the
Black Sea. From the intimate and complicated manner in which the
elevatory and eruptive forces were shown to be connected during this
train of phenomena, we may confidently come to the conclusion that the
forces which slowly and by little starts uplift continents, and those
which at successive periods pour forth volcanic matter from open
orifices, are identical. From many reasons, I believe that the frequent
quakings of the earth on this line of coast are caused by the rending
of the strata, necessarily consequent on the tension of the land when
upraised, and their injection by fluidified rock. This rending and
injection would, if repeated often enough (and we know that earthquakes
repeatedly affect the same areas in the same manner), form a chain of
hills;—and the linear island of St. Mary, which was upraised thrice the
height of the neighbouring country, seems to be undergoing this
process. I believe that the solid axis of a mountain differs in its
manner of formation from a volcanic hill, only in the molten stone
having been repeatedly injected, instead of having been repeatedly
ejected. Moreover, I believe that it is impossible to explain the
structure of great mountain-chains, such as that of the Cordillera,
where the strata, capping the injected axis of plutonic rock, have been
thrown on their edges along several parallel and neighbouring lines of
elevation, except on this view of the rock of the axis having been
repeatedly injected, after intervals sufficiently long to allow the
upper parts or wedges to cool and become solid;—for if the strata had
been thrown into their present highly-inclined, vertical, and even
inverted positions, by a single blow, the very bowels of the earth
would have gushed out; and instead of beholding abrupt mountain-axes of
rock solidified under great pressure, deluges of lava would have flowed
out at innumerable points on every line of elevation.[2]
[2] For a full account of the volcanic phenomena which accompanied the
earthquake of the 20th, and for the conclusions deducible from them, I
must refer to Volume V of the _Geological Transactions._
[Illustration: Hide Bridge, Santiago de Chile]