THE EARTHQUAKE AT CHARLESTON
BY EWING GIBSON
On Tuesday, the 31st of August, 1886, every one in Charleston, SouthCarolina, complained of the severe heat and sultriness of the air. Not abreath cooled the atmosphere, parched by the burning summer sun's rays.In the afternoon the usual sea breeze failed to appear, and there was norelief from the intense closeness and almost overpowering warmth. Thesky was clear, but with a misty, steamy appearance which reminded onestrongly of glowing, tropical countries.
As the night came on, the absence of the glare of the sun was the onlyrelief to the parched and panting population. Seated in the parlor of alarge three-storied brick house in the central portion of the city, Ispent the evening after tea conversing with two friends who had calledto see me. After a few hours of pleasant conversation, one of my friendssaid it was time to leave. Taking out his watch, he continued, "Sixminutes of ten, and--_what is that?_" A low, deep rumbling noise as ofthunder, only beneath instead of above us, coming from afar andapproaching us nearer and nearer, muttering and groaning, and everincreasing in volume,--it was upon us in an instant.
The massive brick house we were in began to sway from side toside--gently at first with a rhythmical motion, then graduallyincreasing in force, until, springing to our feet, we seized one anotherby the hand and gazed with blanched and awe-struck faces at thetottering walls around us. We felt the floor beneath our feet heavinglike the deck of a storm-tossed vessel, and heard the crashing of thefalling masonry and ruins on every side. With almost stilled hearts werealized that we were in the power of an earthquake. The motion of thehouse, never ceasing, became now vertical. Up and down it went as thoughsome monstrous giant had taken it in his hands as a plaything and weretossing it like a ball for his amusement. Recalling our dazed senses,and staggering to our feet as best we could, with one accord we rusheddown the steps leading to the front door, and, grasping the handle,turned it. In vain--the door was jammed, and we were compelled to waitlike rats in a trap until the shock had passed!
Concentrating its energies into one final, convulsive effort, the hugeearth-wave passed and left the earth palpitating and heaving like atired animal. There came crashing down into our garden-plot the chimneysfrom the house in front of ours. Fortunately the falling bricks injurednone of us. Making another trial, we succeeded in opening the door andrushed into the street.
Now there came upon us an overpowering, suffocating odor of sulphur andbrimstone, which filled the whole atmosphere. We were surrounded by acrowd of neighbors--men, women, and children--who had rushed out oftheir houses, as we had done, and who stood with us in the middle of thestreet, awaiting they knew not what.
Suddenly there came again to our ears the now dreaded rumbling sound.Like some fierce animal, growling and seeking its victim, it approached,and we all prepared ourselves for the worst. The shock came, and for amoment the crowd was awed into silence. Fortunately this shock was notnearly so severe as the first. The earth became still once more, and theroaring died away in the distance.
STREET SCENE DURING THE CHARLESTON EARTHQUAKE.]
How the people shunned their houses and spent that and succeeding nightsin the streets, private gardens, and on public squares, is well knownfrom the many accounts given in the daily and illustrated papers at thetime.
So perfectly still and calm was the air during the night, that a lamp,which was taken out in the open air burnt as steadily as thoughprotected in a room, and no flickering revealed the presence of a breathof wind.
Again, some strong and powerful buildings in certain portions of thecity were wrecked completely, while others older and undoubtedly weakerpassed through the shock unharmed. A house on one corner was perfectlyshattered, while, just a few hundred feet away, the house on theopposite corner was not damaged in the slightest except that a littleplastering was shaken down.
Knowing that a city with a population of sixty thousand had been wreckedin every direction by an earthquake, one would expect the death-list tobe enormous; but not more than about forty were killed outright, and buta few more were wounded. Had the shock occurred in the daytime, when thestreets were thronged, the loss of life must have been terrible.