The National tribune., 1902-07-31
THE ERUPTION OF PELEE.
A Graphic Description by the Vicar General
Of Martinique.

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The following paragraphs are part of a
letter in the form of Il journal written to
the absent Bishop of Martinique by Vicar
General parrl, the whole forming an his
toric document of great intelligence and
particularly:
Thursday, May s. The Ascension. This
date should be written in blood,
Toward A O'Clock in the morning n vio-
lent thunderstorm, with torrents of rain,
broke over FOrt-de-France. Toward y
o'clock the horizon in the north. in the di-
rection Of the volcano, was az black as ink.
The clouds were moving rapidly toward
the northwest. The sky was darkening
more and more, when suddenly | heard
something like hail falling on the roofs and
the leaves of the trees. A great noise rose
from the city. In church, where the 3
o'clock mass was in progress, a terrible
panic seized the congregation, and the
priest was left standing alone.
Night had descended on us, and the
| crash of thunder was continuous. The sea
rctrcated three times for Il distance of
several hundred meters. The boat which
| was putting out for ST. Pierre turned back
l stepped ont on my balcony to take in
the situation. and Immediately it WAS COW
cred with hail of stones and still hot cin-
ders. People stood pctrified on their door
steps. Others ran wildly here and there
about Il quarter of an hour-a quarter of
| an hour of terror.
But what WAS happening at st. Pierre?
| No one dared to think. Telephone com
| munication had been cut off abruptly in
the middle of a word. Some persons as
serted that they had seen, above the tops
of the mountains separating MS from St
Pierre, Il column Of fire rising into the sky
| and spreading outward toward all points
of the horizon. Boundless anxiety seized
upon us all. At IL O'Clock the Marin set
out to reconnOiter. 1t witnessed sight
appalling beyond imagination. ST. Pierre
was nothing but one vast braZier! When
| the truth, like the funeral knell of Mar
| Unique, reached us at about l o'clock, n
cry of horror went up not to be described.
will not try to give u picture of such
scenes. 70 write of them would take the
pen of Dante and the accents OF jeremiah.
learn that a boat is to be sent out to res
cue the wounded. l am fortunate enough
to obtain place in it, together with one
of my Wears. The police. and gendarmes
cannot keep back the cr6wdlstruggling to
make its way on board. Tho expedition is
composed of the public Prosecutor of the
republic, an officer, and Il platoon of ma
rlnes. People refuse to Believe in the real
ify of SO horrible disasrer They cling
to every hypothesis that mhy still make
hope possible. We say TO ourselves that, at
1 least, great part of the population must
have had time to fee. bf1.
When, ut about 4 o'cl0eksi in the after
noon, we turn the last broinontory that
separates us from what wits once the mag
niicent panorama of ST. Pierre, the first
sight that strikes Our eyes, mt the farther
end of the roadstead, is Riviere Blanche,
with its stream of smoke. throwing itself
furiously, as the day before. into the sea-
Then, Il little farther out, II large steamer
the Roraima) in flames. We hear that it
is an American packet, just arrived that
morning, in time to be enveloped in the
catastrophe. Two other steamboats, are
burning nearer the shore. Wreckage and
the upturned keels of boats strcw the road
stead. And this is all fhat is left of the
30 or 40 ships anchored here the day pre-
vious All along the quays, for distance
of 200 meters, piles of lumber are burning.
There are smaller fires or the hills about
the city, visible, through the smoke. as far
as Fonds Core. But ST. Pierre, that city
this morning alive, full of human souls, is
no more! 1t lies consumed before us. in
its winding-sheet Of smoke aud cinders,
silent and des0late, eiry on the dead. We
strain our eyes for fleeing inhabitants, for