The wonders of the world

by John Loraine Abbott

“On the memorable thirtieth of April, the reflection of the rising sun on this majestic body of curling vapor was sublime beyond imagination: any comparison of the Glaciers, or of the Andes, can but feebly convey an idea of the fleecy whiteness and brilliancy of this awful column of intermingled and wreathed smoke and clouds. It afterward assumed a more sulphureous cast, like what are called thunder-clouds, and in the course of the day had a ferruginous and sanguine appearance, with a much livelier action in the ascent, and a more extensive dilatation, as if almost freed from every obstruction. In the afternoon, the noise was incessant, and resembled the approach of thunder still nearer and nearer, with a vibration that affected the feelings and hearing: as yet there was no convulsive motion, or sensible earthquake. The Charaibs settled at Morne Ronde, at the foot of the Souffriere, abandoned their houses, with their live stock, and everything they possessed, and fled precipitately toward town. The negroes became confused, forsook their work, looked up to the mountain, and, as it shook, trembled, with the dread of what they could neither understand or describe: the birds fell to the ground, overpowered with showers of ashes, unable to keep themselves on the wing; the cattle were starving for want of food, as not a blade of grass or a leaf was now to be found; the sea was much discolored, but not uncommonly agitated; and it is remarkable, that throughout the whole of this violent disturbance of the earth, it continued quite passive, and did not at any time sympathize with the agitation of the land. About four o’clock in the afternoon, the noise became more alarming, and just before sunset the clouds reflected a bright copper color, suffused with fire. Scarcely had the day closed, when the flames burst at length pyramidically from the crater, through the mass of smoke; the rolling of the thunder became more awful and deafening; electric flashes quickly succeeded, attended with loud claps; and now, indeed, the tumult began. Those only who have witnessed such a sight, can form any idea of the magnificence and variety of the lightning and electric flashes; some forked and zigzag, playing across the perpendicular column from the crater; others shooting upward from the mouth like rockets of the most dazzling luster; others like shells, with their trailing fuses, flying in different parabolas, with the most vivid scintillations, from the dark sanguine column, which now seemed inflexible, and immovable by the wind. Shortly after seven in the afternoon, the mighty caldron was seen to simmer, and the ebullition of lava to break out on the north-west side. This, immediately after boiling over the orifice, and flowing a short way, was opposed by the acclivity of a higher point of land, over which it was impelled by the immense tide of liquefied fire which drove it on, forming the figure V in grand illumination. Sometimes, when the ebullition slackened, or was insufficient to urge it over the obstructing hill, it recoiled like a refluent billow, from the rock, and then again rushed forward, impelled by fresh supplies, and, surmounting every obstacle, carried rocks and woods together, in its course down the slope of the mountain, until it precipitated itself down some vast ravine, concealed from our sight by the intervening ridges of Morne Ronde. Vast globular bodies of fire were seen projected from the fiery furnace, and, bursting, fell back into it, or over it upon the surrounding bushes, which were instantly set in flames. About four hours from the time of the lava’s boiling over the crater, it reached the sea, as we could observe from the reflection of the fire and electric flashes attending it. About half past one, the following morning, another stream of lava was seen descending to the eastward toward Rabacca. The thundering noise of the mountain, and the vibration of sound that had been so formidable hitherto, now mingled in the sudden monotonous roar of the rolling lava, became so terrible, that dismay was almost turned into despair. At this time the first earthquake was felt; this was followed by showers of cinders, which fell with the hissing noise of hail, during two hours.

“At three o’clock, a rolling on the roofs of the houses indicated a fall of stones, which soon thickened, and at length descended in a rain of intermingled fire, which threatened at once the fate of Pompeii or Herculaneum. The crackling coruscations from the crater at this period exceeded all that had yet passed. The eyes were struck with a momentary blindness, and the ears stunned with a confusion of sounds. People sought shelter in the cellars, under rocks, or anywhere, for every place was nearly the same; and the miserable negroes, flying from their huts, were knocked down, or wounded, and many killed in the open air. Several houses were set on fire. The estates situated in the immediate vicinity, seemed doomed to destruction. Had the stones which fell been heavy in proportion to their size, not a living creature could have escaped death: these, having undergone a thorough fusion, were divested of their natural gravity, and fell almost as light as pumice, though in some places as large as a man’s head. This dreadful rain of stones and fire lasted upward of an hour, and was again succeeded by cinders from three till six o’clock in the morning. Earthquake followed earthquake, almost momentarily; or rather the whole of this part of the island was in a state of continued oscillation; not agitated by shocks vertical or horizontal; but undulated like water shaken in a bowl.

“The break of day, if such it could be called, was truly terrific. Utter darkness prevailed till eight o’clock, and the birth of May dawned like the day of judgment: a chaotic gloom enveloped the mountain, and an impenetrable haze hung over the sea, with black sluggish clouds of a sulphureous cast. The whole island was covered with cinders, scoriæ, and broken masses of volcanic matter. It was not until the afternoon, that the muttering noise of the mountain sunk gradually into a solemn yet suspicious silence. Such are the particulars of this sublime and tremendous scene, from its commencement to its catastrophe.”

PETER BOTTE’S MOUNTAIN.

[See cut, page 74.]

The singular peak represented in the cut, is in the island of Mauritius, which lies in the Indian ocean, east of Madagascar. The island is about one hundred and forty miles in circuit, and produces rice, sugar, cloves, indigo, and various tropical fruits. It was first settled by the Dutch; but the French gained possession of it in 1715. In 1810, the English took it, and it is still held by them. The island seems to have been thrown up from the sea by volcanic eruptions, as it everywhere bears marks of convulsions by inward fires. In its central parts are wild craggy mountains, the summits of which are always covered with snow. And among these is the peak represented in the cut, which is eighteen hundred feet in hight, and surrounded by dismal ravines. It is called Peter Botte’s mountain, from a legend that a man of that name once ascended to the top. The general belief, however, is, that it was never ascended till the year 1832, when the top of it was reached by a party under Capt. Lloyd, an English engineer. The exploit was one of the most hazardous, and the account of it is almost painful to the reader, from the evident peril of the adventurers.

PETER BOTTE’S MOUNTAIN.

KILAUEA.

While on the subject of wonderful volcanoes, we must not omit to notice one that has been called the “Niagara of volcanoes,” and the “king of volcanoes,” viz., Kilauea, the great volcano of the Sandwich islands, which is on the island of Hawaii, about thirty miles from Hilo bay. One of the missionaries, from whom we have the account, started to visit it on horseback; but the way being rough and the animal unshod, he severely felt the inconvenience of the lava, became discouraged, and moved so slowly, that he was given up, and the missionary and his associate proceeded on foot.