Savannah courier. (Savannah, Tenn.) 1885-1979, 1886-11-04

was scarcely needed for the shelter of
vessels, so peaceful was the sea. For
the languid waves Of the quiet Pacific |
scarcely rippled against the shore. The
towl had its palace and public build
ings that, while they were not equal In
splendor to those OF Lima, filled the |
hearts OF the seaport townsmcn with |
pride. The road that ran back to Lima |
was lined with gardens and villas, aud |
was usually filed with merry muleteers
and the wealthy citizens driving in
their calaches. Such were Lima and |
Callao in October, 1746. Earthquakes
had come, gone, and been forgotten.
The people of Lima had built their
grand structures and repaired all traces
Of formed disaster, and the inhabi-
tants of-Callao slept by the side of
their tranquil sea in dreams Of peace
and perfect security.
1t was on October 28, at 1890 at
night, when the cities Of Lima and
Callao slept, calm and starlight
night when the shock camel instantly
the people rushed forth from their
dwellings, and the cry of the earth
quake" came from pale and terror
stricken people as they rushed wildly
about, not knowing where to 60 for
shelter and safety. Four minutes
served to shake Lima to the ground.
and of the three thousand buildings,
not twenty were left standing. The
whole city had crumblcd into dust.
The churches and monnsterles, the
palace of the viccroy, the pleasant
adobe dwellings, had fallen and
crushed their inmates in many in
stances, and those who had sought
escape in flight were overwhelmed by
the falling structures that buried over
a thousand victims beneath their
ruins, and there, amid the des0lation
of destruction, the cry of the dying
and. bereaved, the survivors awaited
the coming of the dawn. With the
dawn came the terrible tidings that
Callao had been swept away by a
tidal wave, and only waste of sand
filled the site of the fourishing sea-
port, with its harbor, its ramparts,
and places beside the peaceful ocean
that had risen in its might and swept
it with wave after wave from off the
earth. The new Callao that was after
ward built was on different site, far
away from the terrible memories of
the past At the time of the
great earthquake, in 1855, Lisbon was
far more important city than it is
now, with remnant of its past glory
when it had been the center of com
merce and culture in the sixteenth
century. 1t was then more the
peer of London or Paris than any other
city in Southern Europe. hose who
noticed the course of nature just be-
fore the earthquake at Lisbon had OBJ
served that in several years the land
had shown various signs of volcanic
action. The weather was dry and OPP
pressive, springs had ceased to flow
where they once existed in abundance,
and the earth had frequently trembled
with slight shocks. Yet never had
Lisbon been more needless of danger
than at the moment of its destruction.
For more than century and half il
had known no catastrophe. The tall
houses, four or five stories high, with
their open balconies stretching over
the narrow streets, had stood to shell
ter generations. The royal palaces,
richly adorned with furniture OF
gold and silver, and stored with
gems and diamonds had been built
with no expectation OF their de-
struction, and its churches, more
elaborate still than its palaces,
were decked with the spoils of the
Indies. In its two great squares were
palaces and public buildings and the
magnificent Church of the Dominicans
The corridors and dungeons of the
Holy Inquisition marked the greater
circuit of them. The Ruccio was
placed in the center of the city, and j
was here that some of the most fata
accidents of the earthquake occurred
The morning of November 1, 100
broke fair and warm OYER Lisbon.
soft east wind blew and the sky wa
cloudless. 1t was a high festival O
the Roman Church, the chapels ant
cathedrals were filled with :hrongs o
worshipers. The English merchant
had not yet gone to their counting
houses, and the royal family were still
in the palace. Suddenly roar wa
heard like the peal of countless thun
dcr-bolts, a terrible shock struck tn
city, and it fell. The royal family ha'
time to leave the palace ere it fell il
dust and remnants. The magnificen
churches swayed backwards and for
wards ere they fell Upon the worship
ers and crushed them in their ruins
The tall houses were dashed down upo
the narrow streets, burying their in
! mates who strove to flee from the tol
, tering walls. A sudden darkness
, brooded over the city, where the al
, was filled with dust, the shrieks of tn
| dying, the wall of the living and tn
, cry OF the fallen metropolis. 1t is es
= timated that more than thirty thousan
l persisted in that awful moment Man
t of the survivors were killed by the fa
. of the buildings as they fled Wild
, through the streets. Mobiles, fair won
t en-, priests, monks and nuns, peasan
and slave, who were yet unhurt, tle
: in one vast throng to the open publ
square, where forty thousand misel
: able human beings found tempo
. rary refuge. Blu. now another hol
I ror came upon them. A solid wa
G of water, the tidal wave, advance
d and swept thousands away into tn
: ocean. Again they, the survivor
: fled from the uccurscd city, chamber
9 ing over ruins, over the heaps {
4 wounded and dying, forgetting tn
d ties of nature and the claims of frient
# ship, leaving the weak, the aged an
n women and children to die from injl
: ries or the excess of terror. To con
e plete the horror of the situation, IL
h city took fire from the burning candle
n of the fallen churches, that kindle
l. from the altar clothes and dresses
Q the dead, so that the substance of Il
b rich and poor, the booty of the dishol