Untitled article | AdventAI

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Third-day, January 21, 1868

The Earthquake at Porto Rico.

A LETTER from Ponce, dated December 2, says:

The 18th of November will ever remain a memorable date to the inhabitants of these isles. The day was very sultry, and about 1 o'clock heavy, sullen, lead-colored clouds began settling down upon the mountains in the distance. The air became close and stifling; not a leaf stirred; not a bird was heard to sing; an overpowering calmness of the atmosphere prevailed; the clouds appeared immovable, and the sun shone with a strange light, its rays tinting the earth with a fiery copper color; the mountains exhaled thick vapors; at intervals, deep, rumbling sounds were heard, as prognosticatory of a coming tempest. Finally, at 2:42 o'clock, came the crisis. It is said that the shock lasted forty-five seconds, but others say, only forty. The oscillations were regular, excepting the few last, in which some little variations were observed; the direction was from southeast to northwest. Since the earthquake of Santa Rosa, in 1865, no such severe and prolonged shock has been felt. Many persons were in the streets, discussing the probabilities of an earthquake and visiting the points that suffered most on previous occasions, when suddenly a cry was heard. One second after, this cry was repeated by thousands of souls, and instantaneously, as if by magic, the town of Ponce was left deserted. “The sea! the sea! the sea!” shouted the populace, beside themselves with terror. “The sea is coming!” cried several men rushing past carrying children in their arms. “Run! run! to the cerro! to the cerro!” shouted others. Such was the severity of the shocks that in the faces of all were pictured anguish and terror. Men, women and children rushed toward the cerro, or hights, with such rapidity that in a minute its broad fields had the appearance of an immense camp. The people—no doubt terrified by the fabulous stories that had been circulated about the submersion of the Island of Tortola—did not stop to reflect, but rushed toward the nearest hights, self-preservation being their only thought. At the cries of “The sea! the sea!” the mother called to her children, the wife, to her husband; the air was filled with shouts that caused the stoutest heart to quail. Here, a young girl fell to the ground fainting; there, a child was seeking its mother, lost in the crowd; a little further on, a poor, infirm old man vainly endeavored to reach the high ground; children were clustered around their parents; coaches and men on horseback were going to and fro, bringing weeping women and children; and amid all the disorder and horrible confusion, none seemed to give an instant for ascertaining what was the reality taking place. An hour afterward, when calmness and order were being restored, it became known that the sea, half an hour after the first shock, had receded to its natural level, but only to return again, submerging that portion of the town nearest the shore. Beholding the first advance of the sea, several persons on horseback had rushed into the town spreading the alarm; the subsequent panic accomplished the rest. At 5:30 o'clock, on the same afternoon, a few oscillations were felt, as were also some more severe shocks at 3 o'clock, on the morning of the 19th, since which time no record of the shocks experienced had been kept. In consequence of the earthquake, all the buildings of masonry have been abandoned, many of them having sustained considerable damage, particularly the theatre, which has one of its lateral walls cracked from foundation to roof. The church has not yet been opened, but it is thought that it has suffered severely. The government buildings and warehouses near the wharves have also been damaged, and almost all the chimneys of the boiling-houses on the estates have been leveled to the ground. All business is paralyzed, the stores are opened and shut to no purpose. The number of masons and carpenters is inadequate to the amount of work to be done. The time for gathering the crops is upon us, and there is no material wherewith to replace the ruined buildings. Add to this the misery and suffering of those rendered destitute, the exorbitant prices asked for articles of food and raiment that cannot be dispensed with, and what will come next!