If a single convulsion of extreme violence should agitate at once an entire hydrographical basin, or if the shocks should follow each other too rapidly, the previously existing valleys would be annihilated, instead of being modified and enlarged. Every stream might in that case be compelled to begin its operations anew, and to shape out new channels, instead of continuing to deepen and widen those already excavated. But if the subterranean movements have been intermittent, and if sufficient periods have always intervened between the severer shocks to allow the drainage of the country to be nearly restored to its original state, then are both the kind and degree of force supplied by which running water may hollow out valleys of any depth or size consistent with the elevation above the sea which the districts drained by them may have attained.
When we read of the drying up and desertion of the channels of rivers, the accounts most frequently refer to their deflection into some other part of the same alluvial plain, perhaps several miles distant. Under certain circumstances a change of level may undoubtedly force the water to flow over into some distinct hydrographical basin; but even then it will fall immediately into some other system of valleys already formed.
We learn from history that, ever since the first Greek colonists settled in Calabria, that region has been subject to devastation by earthquakes; and, for the last century and a half, ten years have seldom elapsed without a shock; but the severer convulsions have not only been separated by intervals of twenty, fifty, or one hundred years, but have not affected precisely the same points when they recurred. Thus the earthquake of 1783, although confined within the same geographical limits as that of 1638, and not very inferior in violence, visited, according to Grimaldi, very different districts. The points where the local intensity of the force is developed being thus perpetually varied, more time is allowed for the removal of separate mountain masses thrown into river-channels by each shock.
Number of persons who perished during the earthquake.—The number of persons who perished during the earthquake in the two Calabrias and Sicily, is estimated by Hamilton at about forty thousand; and about twenty thousand more died by epidemics, which were caused by insufficient nourishment, exposure to the atmosphere, and malaria, arising from the new stagnant lakes and pools.
By far the greater number were buried under the ruins of their houses; but many were burnt to death in the conflagrations which almost invariably followed the shocks. These fires raged the more violently in some cities, such as Oppido, from the immense magazines of oil which were consumed.
Many persons were engulfed in deep fissures, especially the peasants when flying across the open country, and their skeletons may perhaps be buried in the earth to this day, at the depth of several hundred feet.
When Dolomieu visited Messina after the shock of Feb. 5th, he describes the city as still presenting, at least at a distance, an imperfect image of its ancient splendor. Every house was injured, but the walls were standing; the whole population had taken refuge in wooden huts in the neighborhood, and all was solitude and silence in the streets: it seemed as if the city had been desolated by the plague, and the impression made upon his feelings was that of melancholy and sadness. "But when I passed over to Calabria, and first beheld Polistena, the scene of horror almost deprived me of my faculties; my mind was filled with mingled compassion and terror; nothing had escaped; all was levelled with the dust; not a single house or piece of wall remained; on all sides were heaps of stone so destitute of form, that they gave no conception of there ever having been a town on the spot. The stench of the dead bodies still rose from the ruins. I conversed with many persons who had been buried for three, four, and even for five days; I questioned them respecting their sensations in so dreadful a situation, and they agreed that of all the physical evils they endured, thirst was the most intolerable; and that their mental agony was increased by the idea that they were abandoned by their friends, who might have rendered them assistance."[672]
It is supposed that about a fourth part of the inhabitants of Polistena, and of some other towns, were buried alive, and might have been saved had there been no want of hands; but in so general a calamity, where each was occupied with his own misfortunes or those of his family, aid could rarely be obtained. Neither tears, nor supplications, nor promises of high rewards were listened to. Many acts of self-devotion, prompted by parental and conjugal tenderness, or by friendship, or the gratitude of faithful servants, are recorded; but individual exertions were, for the most part, ineffectual. It frequently happened, that persons in search of those most dear to them could hear their moans,—could recognize their voices—were certain of the exact spot where they lay buried beneath their feet, yet could afford them no succor. The piled mass resisted all their strength, and rendered their efforts of no avail.
At Terranuova, four Augustin monks, who had taken refuge in a vaulted sacristy, the arch of which continued to support an immense pile of ruins, made their cries heard for the space of four days. One only of the brethren of the whole convent was saved, and "of what avail was his strength to remove the enormous weight of rubbish which had overwhelmed his companions?" He heard their voices die away gradually; and when afterwards their four corpses were disinterred, they were found clasped in each other's arms. Affecting narratives are preserved of mothers saved after the fifth, sixth, and even seventh day of their interment, when their infants or children had perished with hunger.
It might have been imagined that the sight of sufferings such as these would have been sufficient to awaken sentiments of humanity and pity in the most savage breasts; but while some acts of heroism are related, nothing could exceed the general atrocity of conduct displayed by the Calabrian peasants: they abandoned the farms, and flocked in great numbers into the towns—not to rescue their countrymen from a lingering death, but to plunder. They dashed through the streets, fearless of danger, amid tottering walls and clouds of dust, trampling beneath their feet the bodies of the wounded and half-buried, and often stripping them, while yet living, of their clothes.[673]