The San Francisco Calamity - Chapters 16-20



CHAPTER XVI. 
THE GREAT LISBON AND CALABRIAN EARTHQUAKES

To our account of the great earth convulsions of San Francisco it is in 
place to append a description of some similar events of older date. It is 
due to the same causes, whatever these causes may be, the imprisoned 
forces within the earth acting over great distances during the earthquake, 
while they are concentrated within some limited space when the volcano 
begins its work. The earthquake is the most terrible to mankind of all the 
natural agencies of destruction. While the volcano usually has a greater 
permanent effect upon surface conditions, it is, as a rule, much less 
destructive to human life, the earthquake often shaking down cities and 
burying all their inhabitants in one common grave. Violent earthquakes are 
also of far more frequent occurrence than destructive volcanic eruptions, 
many hundreds of them having taken place during the historic period. 

While the earthquake is only indirectly connected with the subject of our 
work, it seems desirable to make some mention of it here, at least so far 
as relates to those terrible convulsions whose destructiveness has given 
them special prominence in the history of great disasters. Ancient notable 
examples are those which threw down the famous Colossus of Rhodes and the 
Pharos of Alexandria. The city of Antioch was a terrible sufferer from 
this affliction, it having been devastated some time before the Christian 
era, while in the year 859 more than 15,000 of its houses were destroyed. 
Of countries subject to earthquakes, Japan has been an especial sufferer, 
in some cases mountains or islands being elevated in association with 
shocks; in others, great tracts of land being swallowed up by the sea. The 
number of deaths in some of these instances was enormous. 

Numerous thrilling examples of the destructive work of the earthquake at 
various periods are on record. Of these we have given elsewhere a tabular 
list of the more important, and shall confine ourselves to a few striking 
examples of its destructive action. In the record of great earthquakes, 
one of the most famous is that which in 1755 visited the city of Lisbon, 
the capital of Portugal, and left that populous, place in ruin and dire 
distress. It may be well to recall the details of this dire event to the 
memories of our readers. 

THE GREAT LISBON EARTHQUAKE 

On the night of the 31st of October, 1755, the citizens of the fair city 
of Lisbon lay down to sleep, in merciful ignorance of what was awaiting 
them on the morrow. The morning of the 1st of November dawned, and gave no 
sign of approaching calamity. The sun rose in its brightness, the warmth 
was genial, the breezes gentle, the sky serene. It was All Saints' Day--a 
high festival of the Church of Rome. The sacred edifices were thronged 
with eager crowds, and the ceremonies were in full progress, when the 
assembled throngs were suddenly startled from their devotions. From the 
ground beneath came fearful sounds that drowned the peal of the organ and 
the voices of the choirs. These underground thunders having rolled away, 
an awful silence ensued. The panic-stricken multitudes were paralyzed with 
terror. Immediately after the ground began to heave with a long and gentle 
swell, producing giddiness and faintness among the people. The tall piles 
swayed to and fro, like willows in the wind. Shrieks of horror rose from 
the terrified assembly. Again the earth heaved, and this time with a 
longer and higher wave. Down came the ponderous arches, the stately 
columns, the massive walls, the lofty spires, tumbling upon the heads of 
priests and people. The graven images, the deified wafers, and they who 
had knelt in adoration before them--the worshipped and the worshippers 
alike--were in a moment buried under one undistinguishable mass of 
horrible ruins. Only a few, who were near the doors, escaped to tell the 
tale. 

It fared no better with those who had remained in their dwellings. The 
terrible earth-wave overthrew the larger number of the private houses in 
the city, burying their inhabitants under the crumbling walls. Those who 
were in the streets more generally escaped, though some there, too, were 
killed by falling walls. 

The sudden overthrow of so many buildings raised vast volumes of fine 
dust, which filled the atmosphere and obscured the sun, producing a dense 
gloom. The air was full of doleful sounds--the groans of agony from the 
wounded and the dying, screams of despair from the horrified survivors, 
wails of lamentation from the suddenly bereaved, dismal howlings of dogs, 
and terrified cries of other animals. 

In two or three minutes the clouds of dust fell to the ground, and 
disclosed the scene of desolation which a few seconds had wrought. The 
ruin, though general, was not universal. A considerable number of houses 
were left standing--fortunately tenantless--for a third great earth-wave 
traversed the city, and most of the buildings which had withstood the 
previous shocks, already severely shaken, were entirely overthrown. 

WATER ADDS TO THE DESTRUCTION 

The last disaster filled the surviving citizens with the impulse of 
flight. The more fortunate of them ran in the direction of the open 
country, and succeeded in saving their lives; but a great multitude rushed 
down to the harbor, thinking to escape by sea. Here, however, they were 
met by a new and unexpected peril. The tide, after first retreating for a 
little, came rolling in with an immense wave, about fifty feet in height, 
carrying with it ships, barges and boats, and dashing them in dire 
confusion upon the crowded shore. Overwhelmed by this huge wave, great 
numbers were, on its retreat, swept into the seething waters and drowned. 
A vast throng took refuge on a fine new marble quay, but recently 
completed, which had cost much labor and expense. This the sea- wave had 
spared, sweeping harmless by. But, alas! it was only for a moment. The 
vast structure itself, with the whole of its living burden, sank 
instantaneously into an awful chasm which opened underneath. The mole and 
all who were on it, the boats and barges moored to its sides, all of them 
filled with people, were in a moment ingulfed. Not a single corpse, not a 
shred of raiment, not a plank nor a splinter floated to the surface, and a 
hundred fathoms of water covered the spot. To the first great sea-wave 
several others succeeded, and the bay continued for a long time in a state 
of tumultuous agitation. 

About two hours after the first overthrow of the buildings, a new element 
of destruction came into play. The fires in the ruined houses kindled the 
timbers, and a mighty conflagration, urged by a violent wind, soon raged 
among the ruins, consuming everything combustible, and completing the 
wreck of the city. This fire, which lasted four days, was not altogether a 
misfortune. It consumed the thousands of corpses which would otherwise 
have tainted the air, adding pestilence to the other misfortunes of the 
survivors. Yet they were threatened with an enemy not less appalling, for 
famine stared them in the face. Almost everything eatable within the 
precincts of the city had been consumed. A set of wretches, morever, who 
had escaped from the ruins of the prisons, prowled among the rubbish of 
the houses in search of plunder, so that whatever remained in the shape of 
provisions fell into their hands and was speedily devoured. They also 
broke into the houses that remained standing, and rifled them of their 
contents. It is said that many of those who had been only injured by the 
ruins, and might have escaped by being extricated, were ruthlessly 
murdered by those merciless villains. 

The total loss of life by this terrible catastrophe is estimated at 60,000 
persons, of whom about 40,000 perished at once, and the remainder died 
afterwards of the injuries and privations they sustained. Twelve hundred 
were buried in the ruins of the general hospital, eight hundred in those 
of the civil prison, and several thousands in those of the convents. The 
loss of property amounted to many millions sterling. 

WIDE-SPREAD DESTRUCTION 

Although the earth-wave traversed the whole city, the shock was felt more 
severely in some quarters than in others. All the older part of the town, 
called the Moorish quarter, was entirely overthrown; and of the newer 
part, about seventy of the principal streets were ruined. Some buildings 
that withstood the shocks were destroyed by fire. The cathedral, eighteen 
parish churches, almost all the convents, the halls of the inquisition, 
the royal residence, and several other fine palaces of the nobility and 
mansions of the wealthy, the custom-houses, the warehouses filled with 
merchandise, the public granaries filled with corn, and large timber 
yards, with their stores of lumber, were either overthrown or burned. 

The king and court were not in Lisbon at the time of this great disaster, 
but were living in the neighborhood at the castle of Belem, which escaped 
injury. The royal family, however, were so alarmed by the shocks, that 
they passed the following night in carriages out of doors. None of the 
officers of state were with them at the time. On the following morning the 
king hastened to the ruined city, to see what could be done toward 
restoring order, aiding the wounded, and providing food for the hungry. 

The royal family and the members of the court exerted themselves to the 
uttermost, the ladies devoting themselves to the preparation of lint and 
bandages, and to nursing the wounded, the sick, and the dying, of whom the 
numbers were overwhelming. Among the sufferers were men of quality and 
once opulent citizens, who had been reduced in a moment to absolute 
penury. The kitchens of the royal palace, which fortunately remained 
standing, were used for the purpose of preparing food for the starving 
multitudes. It is said that during the first two or three days a pound of 
bread was worth an ounce of gold. One of the first measures of the 
government was to buy up all the corn that could be obtained in the 
neighborhood of Lisbon, and to sell it again at a moderate price, to those 
who could afford to buy, distributing it gratis to those who had nothing 
to pay. 

For about a month afterward earthquake shocks continued, some of them 
severe. It was several months before any of the citizens could summon 
courage to begin rebuilding the city. But by degrees their confidence 
returned. The earth had relapsed into repose, and they set about the task 
of rebuilding with so much energy, that in ten years Lisbon again became 
one of the most beautiful capitals of Europe. 

CHARACTERISTICS OF THE LISBON EARTHQUAKE 

The most distinguishing peculiarities of this earthquake were the 
swallowing up of the mole, and the vast extent of the earth's surface over 
which the shocks were felt. Several of the highest mountains in Portugal 
were violently shaken, and rent at their summits; huge masses falling from 
them into the neighboring valleys. These great fractures gave rise to 
immense volumes of dust, which at a distance were mistaken for smoke by 
those who beheld them. Flames were also said to have been observed: but if 
there were any such, they were probably electrical flashes produced by the 
sudden rupture of the rocks. 

The portion of the earth's surface convulsed by this earthquake is 
estimated by Humboldt to have been four times greater than the whole 
extent of Europe. The shocks were felt not only over the Spanish 
peninsula, but in Morocco and Algeria they were nearly as violent. At a 
place about twenty-four miles from the city of Morocco, there is said to 
have occurred a catastrophe much resembling what took place at the Lisbon 
mole. A great fissure opened in the earth, and an entire village, with all 
its inhabitants, upwards of 8,000 in number, were precipitated into the 
gulf, which immediately closed over its prey. 

EARTHQUAKES IN CALABRIA 

Of the numerous other examples of destructive earthquakes which might be 
chosen from Old World annals, it will not be amiss to append a brief 
account of those which took place in Calabria, Italy, in 1783. These, 
while less wide-spread in their influence, were much longer in duration 
than the Lisbon cataclysm, since they continued, at intervals, from the 
5th of February until the end of the year. The shocks were felt all over 
Sicily and as far north as Naples, but the area of severe convulsion was 
comparatively limited, not exceeding five hundred square miles. 

The centre of disturbance seems to have been under the town of Oppido in 
the farther Calabria, and it extended in every direction from that spot to 
a distance of about twenty-two miles, with such violence as to overthrow 
every city, town and village lying within that circle. This ruin was 
accomplished by the first shock on the 5th of February. The second, of 
equal violence, on the 28th of March, was less destructive, only because 
little or nothing had been left for it to overthrow. 

At Oppido the motion was in the nature of a vertical upheaval of the 
ground, which was accompanied by the opening of numerous large chasms, 
into some of which many houses were ingulfed, the chasms closing over them 
again almost immediately. The town itself was situated on the summit of a 
hill, flanked by five steep and difficult slopes; it was so completely 
overthrown by the first shock that scarcely a fragment of wall was left 
standing. The hill itself was not thrown down, but a fort which commanded 
the approach to the place was hurled into the gorge below. It was on the 
flats immediately surrounding the site of the town and on the rising 
grounds beyond them that the great fissures and chasms were opened. On the 
slope of one of the hills opposite the town there appeared a vast chasm, 
in which a large quantity of soil covered with vines and olive-trees was 
engulfed. This chasm remained open after the shock, and was somewhat in 
the form of an amphitheatre, 500 feet long and 200 feet in depth. 

MOST CALAMITOUS OF THE LANDSLIPS 

The most calamitous of the landslips occurred on the sea-coast of the 
Straits of Messina, near the celebrated rock of Scilla, where huge masses 
fell from the tall cliffs, overwhelming many villas and gardens. At Gian 
Greco a continuous line of precipitous rocks, nearly a mile in length, 
tumbled down. The aged Prince of Scilla, after the first great shock on 
the 5th of February, persuaded many of his vassals to quit the dangerous 
shore, and take refuge in the fishing boats--he himself showing the 
example. That same night, however, while many of the people were asleep in 
the boats, and others on a flat plain a little above the sea-level, 
another powerful shock threw down from the neighboring Mount Jaci a great 
mass, which fell with a dreadful crash, partly into the sea, and partly 
upon the plain beneath. Immediately the sea rose to a height of twenty 
feet above the level ground on which the people were stationed, and 
rolling over it, swept away the whole multitude. This immense wave then 
retired, but returned with still greater violence, bringing with it the 
bodies of the men and animals it had previously swept away, dashing to 
pieces the whole of the boats, drowning all that were in them, and wafting 
the fragments far inland. The prince with 1,430 of his people perished by 
this disaster. 

It was on the north-eastern shore of Sicily, however, that the greatest 
amount of damage was done. The first severe shock, on the 5th of February, 
overthrew nearly the whole of the beautiful city of Messina, with great 
loss of life. The shore for a considerable distance along the coast was 
rent, and the ground along the port, which was before quite level, became 
afterwards inclined towards the sea, the depth of the water having, at the 
same time, increased in several parts, through the displacement of 
portions of the bottom. The quay also subsided about fourteen inches below 
the level of the sea, and the houses near it were much rent. But it was in 
the city itself that the most terrible desolation was wrought--a 
complication of disasters having followed the shock, more especially a 
fierce conflagration, whose intensity was augmented by the large stores of 
oil kept in the place. 

IMMENSE DESTRUCTION 

According to official reports made soon after the events, the destruction 
caused by the earthquakes of the 5th of February and 28th of March 
throughout the two Calabrias was immense. About 320 towns and villages 
were entirely reduced to ruins, and about fifty others seriously damaged. 
The loss of life was appalling--40,000 having perished by the earthquakes, 
and 20,000 more having subsequently died from privation and exposure, or 
from epidemic diseases bred by the stagnant pools and the decaying 
carcases of men and animals. The greater number were buried amid the ruins 
of the houses, while others perished in the fires that were kindled in 
most of the towns, particularly in Oppido, where the flames were fed by 
great magazines of oil. Not a few, especially among the peasantry dwelling 
in the country, were suddenly engulfed in fissures. Many who were only 
half buried in the ruins, and who might have been saved had there been 
help at hand, were left to die a lingering death from cold and hunger. 
Four Augustine monks at Terranuova perished thus miserably. Having taken 
refuge in a vaulted sacristy, they were entombed in it alive by the masses 
of rubbish, and lingered for four days, during which their cries for help 
could be heard, till death put an end to their sufferings. 

Of still more thrilling interest was the case of the Marchioness Spastara. 
Having fainted at the moment of the first great shock, she was lifted by 
her husband, who, bearing her in his arms, hurried with her to the harbor. 
Here, on recovering her senses, she observed that her infant boy had been 
left behind. Taking advantage of a moment when her husband was too much 
occupied to notice her, she darted off and, running back to the house, 
which was still standing, she snatched her babe from its cradle. Rushing 
with him in her arms towards the staircase, she found the stair had 
fallen--cutting off all further progress in that direction. She fled from 
room to room, pursued by the falling materials, and at length reached a 
balcony as her last refuge. Holding up her infant, she implored the few 
passers-by for help; but they all, intent on securing their own safety, 
turned a deaf ear to her cries. Meanwhile the mansion had caught fire, and 
before long the balcony, with the devoted lady still grasping her darling, 
was hurled into the devouring flames. 



CHAPTER XVII. 
THE CHARLESTON AND OTHER EARTHQUAKES OF THE UNITED STATES

The twin continents of America have rivalled the record of the Old World 
in their experience of earthquakes since their discovery in 1492. The 
first of these made note of was in Venezuela in 1530, but they have been 
numerous and often disastrous since. Among them was the great shock at 
Lima in 1746, by which 18,000 were killed, and those at Guatemala in 1773, 
with 33,000, and at Riobamba in 1797, with 41,000 victims. It will, 
however, doubtless prove of more interest to our readers if we pass over 
these ruinous disasters and confine ourselves to the less destructive 
earthquakes which have taken place within our own country. 

The United States, large a section of North America as it occupies, is 
fortunate in being in a great measure destitute of volcanic phenomena, 
while destructive earthquakes have been very rare in its history. This, it 
is true, does not apply to the United States as it is, but as it was. It 
has annexed the volcano and the earthquake with its new accessions of 
territory. Alaska has its volcanoes, the Philippines are subject to both 
forms of convulsion, and in Hawaii we possess the most spectacular volcano 
of the earth, while the earthquake is its common attendant. But in the 
older United States the volcano contents itself with an occasional puff of 
smoke, and eruptive phenomena are confined to the minor form of the 
geyser. 

We are by no means so free from the earthquake. Slight movements of the 
earth's surface are much more common than many of us imagine, and in the 
history of our land there have been a number of earth shocks of 
considerable violence. Prior to that of San Francisco, the most 
destructive to life and property was that of Charleston in 1886, though 
the 1812 convulsion in the Mississippi Valley might have proved a much 
greater calamity but for the fact that civilized man had not then largely 
invaded its centre of action. 

As regards the number of earth movements in this country, we are told that 
in New England alone 231 were recorded in two hundred and fifty years, 
while doubtless many slighter ones were left unrecorded. Taking the whole 
United States, there were 364 recorded in the twelve years from 1872 to 
1883, and in 1885 fifty- nine were recorded, more than two-thirds of them 
being on the Pacific slope. Most of these, however, were very slight, some 
of them barely perceptible. 

Confining ourselves to those of the past important in their effects, we 
shall first speak of the shocks which took place in New England in 1755, 
in the year and month of the great earthquake at Lisbon. On the 18th of 
November of that year, while the shocks at Lisbon still continued, New 
England was violently shaken, loud underground explosive noises 
accompanying the shocks. In the harbors along the Atlantic coast there was 
much agitation of the waters and many dead fish were thrown up on the 
shores. The shock, indeed, was felt far from the coast, by the crew of a 
ship more than two hundred miles out at sea from Cape Ann, Massachusetts. 

This event, however, was of minor importance, being much inferior to that 
of 1812, in which year California and the Mississippi Valley alike were 
affected by violent movements of the earth's crust. The California 
convulsions took place in the spring and summer of that year, extending 
from the beginning of May until September. Throughout May the southern 
portion of that region was violently agitated, the shocks being so 
frequent and severe that people abandoned their houses and slept on the 
open ground. The most destructive shocks came in September, when two 
Mission houses were destroyed and many of their inmates killed. At Santa 
Barbara a tidal wave invaded the coast and flowed some distance into the 
interior. 

It may be said here that California has proved more subject to severe 
shocks than any other section of our country. In 1865 sharp tremors shook 
the whole region about the Bay of San Francisco, many buildings being 
thrown down. Hardly any of brick or stone escaped injury, though few lives 
were lost. In 1872 a disturbance was felt farther west, the whole range of 
the Sierra Nevada mountains being violently shaken and the earth 
tremblings extending into the State of Nevada. The centre of activity was 
along the crest of the range, and immense quantities of rock were thrown 
down from the mountain pinnacles. A tremendous fissure opened along the 
eastern base of the mountain range for forty miles, the land to the west 
of the opening rising and that to the east sinking several feet. One small 
settlement, that of Lone Pine, in Owen's Valley, on the east base of the 
mountains, was completely demolished, from twenty to thirty lives being 
lost. Luckily, the region affected had very few inhabitants, or the 
calamity might have been great. 

The earthquakes of 1812 in the Mississippi Valley began in December, 1811, 
and continued at intervals until 1813. As a rule they were more 
distinguished by frequency than violence, though on several occasions they 
were severe and had marked effects. They extended through the valleys of 
the Mississippi, Arkansas and Ohio, and their long continuance was 
remarkable in view of the territory affected being far from any volcanic 
region. 

The surface of the valley of the Mississippi was a good deal altered by 
these convulsions--several new lakes being formed, while others were 
drained. Several new islands were also raised in the river, and during one 
of the shocks the ground a little below New Madrid was for a short time 
lifted so high as to stop the current of the Mississippi, and cause it to 
flow backward. The ground on which this town is built, and the bank of the 
river for fifteen miles above it, subsided permanently about eight feet, 
and the cemetery of the town fell into the river. In the neighboring 
forest the trees were thrown into inclined positions in every direction, 
and many of their trunks and branches were broken. It is affirmed that in 
some places the ground swelled into great waves, which burst at their 
summits and poured forth jets of water, along with sand and pieces of 
coal, which were tossed as high as the tops of trees. On the subsidence of 
these waves, there were left several hundreds of hollow depressions from 
ten to thirty yards in diameter, and about twenty feet in depth, which 
remained visible for many years afterward. Some of the shocks were 
vertical, and others horizontal, the latter being the most mischievous. 
These earthquakes resulted in the general subsidence of a large tract of 
country, between seventy and eighty miles in length from north to south, 
and about thirty miles in breadth from east to west. Lakes now mark many 
of the localities affected by the earthquake movements. It is only to the 
fact that this country was then very thinly settled that a great loss of 
life was avoided. 

New Madrid, Missouri, was a central point of this earthquake, the shocks 
there being repeated with great frequency for several months. The 
disturbance of the earth, however, was not confined to the United States, 
but affected nearly half of the western hemisphere, ending in the upheaval 
of Sabrina in the Azores, already described. The destruction of Caracas, 
Venezuela, with many thousands of its inhabitants, and the eruption of La 
Soufriere volcano of St. Vincent Island were incidents of this convulsion. 
Dr. J. W. Foster tells us that on the night of the disaster at Caracas the 
earthquake grew intense at New Madrid, fissures being opened six hundred 
feet long by twenty broad, from which water and sand were flung to the 
height of forty feet. 

The most destructive of earthquakes in our former history was that which 
visited Charleston, South Carolina, in 1886, the injury caused by it being 
largely due to the fact that it passed through a populous city. As it 
occurred after many of the people had retired, the confusion and terror 
due to it were greatly augmented, people fleeing in panic fear from the 
tumbling and cracking houses to seek refuge in the widest streets and open 
spaces. 

South Carolina had been affected by the wide-spread earthquakes of 1812. 
These in some cases altered the level of the land, as is related in 
Lyell's "Principles of Geology." But the effect then was much less than in 
1886. Several slight tremors occurred in the early summer of that year, 
but did not excite much attention. More distinct shocks were felt on 
August 27th and 28th, but the climax was deferred till the evening of 
August 31st. The atmosphere that afternoon had been unusually sultry and 
quiet, the breeze from the ocean, which generally accompanies the rising 
tide, was almost entirely absent, and the setting sun caused a little glow 
in the sky. 

"As the hour of 9.50 was reached," we are told, "there was suddenly heard 
a rushing, roaring sound, compared by some to a train of cars at no great 
distance, by others to a clatter produced by two or more omnibuses moving 
at a rapid rate over a paved street, by others again, to an escape of 
steam from a boiler. It was followed immediately by a thumping and beating 
of the earth beneath the houses, which rocked and swayed to and fro. 
Furniture was violently moved and dashed to the floor; pictures were swung 
from the walls, and in some cases turned with their backs to the front, 
and every movable thing was thrown into extraordinary convulsions. The 
greatest intensity of the shock is considered to have been during the 
first half, and it was probably then, during the period of its greatest 
sway, that so many chimneys were broken off at the junction of the roof. 
The duration of this severe shock is thought to have been from thirty-five 
to forty seconds. The impression produced on many was that it could be 
subdivided into three distinct movements, while others were of the opinion 
that it was one continuous movement, or succession of waves, with the 
greatest intensity, as already stated, during the first half of its 
duration." 

Twenty-seven persons were killed outright, and more than that number died 
soon after of their hurts or from exposure; many others were less 
seriously injured. Among the buildings, the havoc, though much less 
disastrous than has been recorded in some other earthquakes in either 
hemisphere, was very great. "There was not a building in the city which 
had escaped serious injury. The extent of the damage varied greatly, 
ranging from total demolition down to the loss of chimney tops and the 
dislodgment of more or less plastering. The number of buildings which were 
completely demolished and levelled to the ground was not great; but there 
were several hundreds which lost a large portion of their walls. There 
were very many also which remained standing, but so badly shattered that 
public safety required that they should be pulled down altogether. There 
was not, so far as at present is known, a brick or stone building which 
was not more or less cracked, and in most of them the cracks were a 
permanent disfigurement and a source of danger and inconvenience." In some 
places the railway track was curiously distorted. "It was often displaced 
laterally, and sometimes alternately depressed and elevated. Occasionally 
several lateral flexures of double curvature and of great amount were 
exhibited. Many hundred yards of track had been shoved bodily to the south 
eastward." 

The ground was fissured at some places in the city to a depth of many 
feet, and numerous "craterlets" were formed, from which sand was ejected 
in considerable quantities. These are not uncommon phenomena, and were 
due, no doubt, to the squirting of water out of saturated sandy layers not 
far below the surface; these being squeezed between two less pervious beds 
in the passage of the earthquake wave. The ejected material in the 
Charleston earthquake was ordinary sand, such as might exist in many 
districts which had been quite undisturbed by any concussions of the 
earth. 

Captain Dutton made a careful study of the observations collected by 
himself and others concerning this earthquake, and came to the conclusion 
that the Charleston wave traveled with unusual speed, for its mean 
velocity was about 17,000 feet a second. The focus of the disturbance was 
also ascertained. Apparently it was a double one, the two centres being 
about thirteen miles apart, and the line joining them running nearly the 
same distance to the west of Charleston. The approximate depth of the 
principal focus is given as twelve miles, with a possible error of less 
than two miles; that of the minor one as roughly eight miles. 

The Charleston earthquake was felt as a tremor of more or less force 
through a wide area, embracing 900,000 square miles, and affecting nearly 
the whole country east of the Mississippi. It is said that the yield of 
the Pennsylvania natural gas wells decreased, and that a geyser in the 
Yellowstone valley burst into action after four years of rest. The 
movement of the earth-wave was in general north and south, deflected to 
east and west, and the snake-like fashion in which rails on the railroad 
were bent indicated both a vertical and a lateral force. 

This earthquake has been attributed to various causes, but geological 
experts think that it was due to a slip in the crust along the Appalachian 
Mountain chain. There is a line of weakness along the eastern slope of 
this chain, characterized by fissures and faults, and it was thought that 
a strain had been gradually brought to bear upon this through the removal 
of earth from the land by rains and rivers and its deposition in thick 
strata on the sea-bottom. It is supposed that this variation in weight in 
time caused a yielding of the strata and a slip seaward of the great 
coastal plain. Professor Mendenhall, however, thinks it was due to a 
readjustment of the earth's crust to its gradually sinking nucleus. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 
THE VOLCANO AND THE EARTHQUAKE, EARTH'S DEMONS OF DESTRUCTION

To most of us, dwellers upon the face of the earth, this terrestrial 
sphere is quite a comfortable place of residence. The forces of Nature 
everywhere and at all times surround us, forces capable, if loosened from 
their bonds, of bringing death and destruction to man and the work of his 
hands. But usually they are mild and beneficent in their action, not 
agents of destruction and lords of elemental misrule. The air, without 
whose presence we could not survive a minute, is usually a pleasant 
companion, now resting about us in soft calm, now passing by in mild 
breezes. The alternation of summer and winter is to us generally an 
agreeable relief from the monotony of a uniform climate. The variation 
from sunlight to cloud, from dry weather to rainfall, is equally viewed as 
a pleasant escape from the weariness of too great fixity of natural 
conditions. The change from day to night, from hours of activity to hours 
of slumber, are other agreeable variations in the events of our daily 
life. In short, a great pendulum seems to be swinging above us, held in 
Nature's kindly hand, and adapting its movements to our best good and 
highest enjoyment. 

But has Nature,--if we are justified in personifying the laws and forces 
of the universe,--has mother Nature really our pleasure and benefit in 
mind, or does she merely suffer us to enjoy life like so many summer 
insects, until she is in the mood to sweep us like leaves from her path? 
It must seem the latter to many of the inhabitants of the earth, 
especially to the dwellers in certain ill-conditioned regions. For all the 
beneficent powers above named may at a moment's notice change to 
destructive ones. 

THE WIND IS A DEMON IN CHAINS 

The wind, for instance, is a demon in chains. At times it breaks its 
fetters and rushes on in mad fury, rending and destroying, and sweeping 
such trifles as cities and those who dwell therein to common ruin. 
Sunshine and rain are subject to like wild caprices. The sun may pour down 
burning rays for weeks and months together, scorching the fertile fields, 
drying up the life-giving streams, bringing famine and misery to lands of 
plenty and comfort, almost making the blood to boil in our veins. Its 
antithesis, the rainstorm, is at times a still more terrible visitant. 
From the dense clouds pour frightful floods, rushing down the lofty hills, 
sweeping over fertile plains, overflowing broad river valleys, and, 
wherever they go, leaving terror and death in their path. We may say the 
same of the alternation of the seasons. Summer, while looked forward to 
with joyous anticipation, may bring us only suffering by its too ardent 
grasp; and winter, often welcomed with like pleasurable anticipations, may 
prove a period of terror from cold and destitution. 

Such is the make-up of the world in which we live, such the vagaries of 
the forces which surround us. But those enumerated are not the whole. Can 
we say, with a stamp of the foot upon the solid earth, "Here at least I 
have something I can trust; let the winds blow and the rains descend, let 
the summer scorch and the winter chill, the good earth still stands firm 
beneath me, and of it at least I am sure?" 

Who says so speaks hastily and heedlessly, for the earth can show itself 
as unstable as the air, and our solid footing become as insecure as the 
deck of a ship laboring in a storm at sea. The powers of the atmosphere, 
great as they are and mighty for destruction as they may become, are at 
times surpassed by those which abide within the earth, deep laid in the so-
called everlasting rocks, slumbering often through generations, but at any 
time likely to awaken in wrath, to lift the earth into quaking billows 
like those of the sea, or pour forth torrents of liquid fire that flow in 
glowing and burning rivers over leagues of ruined land. Such is the earth 
with which we have to deal, such the ruthless powers of nature that spread 
around us and lurk beneath us, such the terrific forces which only bide 
their time to break forth and sweep too-confident man from the earth's 
smiling face. 

THE SUBTERRANEAN POWERS 

The subterranean powers here spoken of, those we had denominated earth's 
demons of destruction, are the volcano and the earthquake, the great 
moulding forces of the earth, tearing down to rebuild, rending to 
reconstitute, and in this elemental work often bringing ruin to man's 
boasted fanes and palaces. 

No one who has ever seen a volcano or "burning mountain" casting forth 
steam, huge red-hot stones, smoke, cinders and lava, can possibly forget 
the grandeur of the spectacle. At night it is doubly terrible, when the 
darkness shows the red-hot lava rolling in glowing streams down the 
mountain's side. At times, indeed, the volcano is quiet, and only a little 
smoke curls from its top. Even this may cease, and the once burning summit 
may be covered over with trees and grass, like any other hill. But deep 
down in the earth the gases and pent-up steam, are ever preparing to force 
their way upward through the mountain, and to carry with them dissolved 
rocks, and the stones which block their passage. Sometimes, while all is 
calm and beautiful on the mountains, suddenly deep-sounding noises are 
heard, the ground shakes, and a vast torrent tears its way through the 
bowels of the volcano, and is flung hundreds of feet high in the air, and, 
falling again to the earth, destroys every living thing for miles around. 

It is the same with the earthquake as with the volcano. The surface of the 
earth is never quite still. Tremors are constantly passing onward which 
can be distinguished by delicate instruments, but only rarely are these of 
sufficient force to become noticeable, except by instrumental means. At 
intervals, however, the power beneath the surface raises the ground in 
long, billow-like motions, before which, when of violent character, no 
edifice or human habitation can for a moment stand. The earth is 
frequently rent asunder, great fissures and cavities being formed. The 
course of rivers is changed and the waters are swallowed up by fissures 
rent in the surface, while ruin impends in a thousand forms. The cities 
become death pits and the cultivated fields are buried beneath floods of 
liquid mud. Fortunately these convulsions, alike of the earthquake and 
volcano, are comparative rarities and are confined to limited regions of 
the earth's surface. What do we know of those deep-lying powers, those 
vast buried forces dwelling in uneasy isolation beneath our feet? With all 
our science we are but a step beyond the ancients, to whom these were the 
Titans, great rebel giants whom Jupiter overthrew and bound under the 
burning mountains, and whose throes of agony shook the earth in quaking 
convulsions. To us the volcanic crater is the mouth from which comes the 
fiery breath of demon powers which dwell far down in the earth's crust. 
The Titans themselves were dwarfs beside these mighty agents of 
destruction whose domain extends for thousands of miles beneath the 
earth's surface and which in their convulsions shake whole continents at 
once. Such was the case in 1812, when the eruption of Mont Soufriere on 
St. Vincent, as told in a later chapter, formed merely the closing event 
in a series of earthquakes which had made themselves felt under thousands 
of miles of land. 

ANCIENT AWE OF VOLCANOES 

In olden times volcanoes were regarded with superstitious awe, and it 
would have been considered highly impious to make any investigation of 
their actions. We are told by Virgil that Mt. Etna marks the spot where 
the gods in their anger buried Enceladus, one of the rebellious giants. To 
our myth-making ancestors one of the volcanoes of the Mediterranean, set 
on a small island of the Lipari group, was the workshop of Vulcan, the god 
of fire, within whose depths he forged the thunderbolts of the gods. From 
below came sounds as of a mighty hammer on a vast anvil. Through the 
mountain vent came the black smoke and lurid glow from the fires of 
Vulcan's forge. This old myth is in many respects more consonant with the 
facts of nature than myths usually are. In agreement with the theory of 
its internal forces, the mountain in question was given the name of 
Volcano. To-day it is scarcely known at all, but its name clings to all 
the fire-breathing mountains of the earth. 

As before said, at the present day we are little in advance of the 
ancients in actual knowledge of what is going on so far beneath our feet. 
We speak of forces where they spoke of fettered giants, but can only form 
theories where they formed myths. Is the earth's centre made up of liquid 
fire? Does its rock crust resemble the thick ice crust on the Arctic Seas, 
or is the earth, as later scientists believe, solid to the core? Is it 
heated so fiercely, miles below our feet, that at every release of 
pressure the solid rock bursts into molten lava? Is the steam from the 
contact of underground rivers and deep-lying fires the origin of the 
terrible rending powers of the volcano's depths? Truly we can answer none 
of these questions with assurance, and can only guess and conjecture from 
the few facts open to us what lies concealed far beneath. 

RARITY OF ANCIENT ACCOUNTS 

In the history of earthquakes nothing is more remarkable than the extreme 
fewness of those recorded before the beginning of the Christian era, in 
comparison with those that have been registered since that time. It is to 
be borne in mind, however, that before the birth of Christ only a small 
portion of the globe was inhabited by those likely to make a record of 
natural events. The vast apparent increase in the number of earthquakes in 
recent times is owing to a greater knowledge of the earth's surface and to 
the spread of civilization over lands once inhabited by savages. The same 
is to be said of volcanic eruptions, which also have apparently increased 
greatly since the beginning of the Christian era. There may possibly have 
been a natural increase in these phenomena, but this is hardly probable, 
the change being more likely due to the increase in the number of 
observers. 

The structure of a volcano is very different from that of other mountains, 
really consisting of layers of lava and volcanic ashes, alternating with 
each other and all sloping away from the center. These elevations, in 
fact, are formed in a different manner from ordinary mountains. The latter 
have been uplifted by the influence of pressure in the interior of the 
earth, but the volcano is an immediate result of the explosive force of 
which we have spoken, the mountain being gradually built up by the lava 
and other materials which it has flung up from below. In this way 
mountains of immense height and remarkable regularity have been formed. 
Mount Orizabo, near the City of Mexico, for instance, is a remarkably 
regular cone, undoubtedly formed in this way, and the same may be said of 
Mount Mayon, on the Island of Luzon. 

In many cases the irregularity of the volcano is due to subsequent action 
of its forces, which may blow the mountain itself to pieces. In the case 
of Krakatoa, in the East Indies, for instance, the whole mountain was rent 
into fragments, which were flung as dust miles high into the air. The main 
point we wish to indicate is that volcanoes are never formed by ordinary 
elevating forces and that they differ in this way from all other 
mountains. On the contrary, they have been piled up like rubbish heaps, 
resembling the small mountains of coal dust near the mouths of anthracite 
mines. 

It is to the burning heat of the earth's crust and the influence of 
pressure, and more largely to the influx of water to the molten rocks 
which lie miles below the surface, that these convulsions of nature are 
due. Water, on reaching these overheated strata, explodes into volumes of 
steam, and if there is no free vent to the surface, it is apt to rend the 
very mountain asunder in its efforts to escape. Such is supposed to have 
been the case in the eruption of Krakatoa, and was probably the case also 
in the recent case of Mt. Pelee. 

GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF ERUPTIONS 

If we should seek to give a general description of volcanic eruptions, it 
would be in some such words as follows: An eruption is usually preceded by 
earthquakes which affect the whole surrounding country, and associated 
with which are underground explosions that seem like the sound of distant 
artillery. The mountain quivers with internal convulsions, due to the 
efforts of its confined forces to find an opening. The drying up of wells 
and disappearance of springs are apt to take place, the water sinking 
downward through cracks newly made in the rocks. Finally the fierce 
unchained energy rends an opening through the crater and an eruption 
begins. It comes usually with a terrible burst that shakes the mountain to 
its foundation; explosions following rapidly and with increasing violence, 
while steam issues and mounts upward in a lofty column. The steam and 
escaping gases in their fierce outbreaks hurl up into the air great 
quantities of solid rock torn from the sides of the opening. The huge 
blocks, meeting each other in their rise and fall, are gradually broken 
and ground into minute fragments, forming dust or so-called ashes, often 
of extreme fineness, and in such quantities as frequently to blot out the 
light of the sun. There is another way in which a great deal of volcanic 
dust is made; the lava is full of steam, which in its expansion tears the 
molten rock into atoms, often converting it into the finest dust. 

The eruption of Mt. Skaptar, in Iceland, in 1783, sent up such volumes of 
dust that the atmosphere was loaded with it for months, and it was carried 
to the northern part of Scotland, 600 miles away, in such quantities as to 
destroy the crops. During the eruption of Tomboro, in the East Indies, in 
1815, so great was the quantity of dust thrown up that it caused darkness 
at midday in Java 300 miles away and covered the ground to a depth of 
several inches. Floating pumice formed a layer on the ocean surface two 
and a half feet in thickness, through which vessels had difficulty in 
forcing their way. 

The steam which rises in large volumes into the air may become suddenly 
condensed with the chill of the upper atmosphere and fall as rain, 
torrents of which often follow an eruption. The rain, falling through the 
clouds of volcanic dust, brings it to the earth as liquid mud, which pours 
in thick streams down the sides of the mountain. The torrents of flowing 
mud are sometimes on such a great scale that large towns, as in the 
instance of the great city of Herculaneum, may be completely buried 
beneath them. Over this city the mud accumulated to the depth of over 70 
feet. In addition to these phenomena, molten lava often flows from the lip 
of the crater, occasionally in vast quantities. In the Icelandic eruption 
of 1783 the lava streams were so great in quantity as to fill river gorges 
600 ft. deep and 200 ft. wide, and to extend over an open plain to a 
distance of 12 to 15 miles, forming lakes of lava 100 feet deep. The 
volcanoes of Hawaii often send forth streams of lava which cover an area 
of over 100 square miles to a great depth. 

GREAT OUTFLOWS OF LAVA 

In the course of ages lava outflows of this kind have built up in Hawaii a 
volcanic mountain estimated to contain enough material to cover the whole 
of the United States with a layer of rock 50 feet deep. These great 
outflows of lava are not confined to mountains, but take place now and 
then from openings in the ground, or from long cracks in the surface 
rocks. Occasionally great eruptions have taken place beneath the ocean's 
surface, throwing up material in sufficient quantity to form new islands. 

The formation of mud is not confined to the method given, but great 
quantities of this plastic material flow at times from volcanic craters. 
In the year 1691 Imbaburu, one of the peaks of the Andes, sent out floods 
of mud which contained dead fish in such abundance that their decay caused 
a fever in the vicinity. The volcanoes of Java have often buried large 
tracts of fertile country under volcanic mud. 

An observation of volcanoes shows us that they have three well marked 
phases of action. The first of these is the state of permanent eruption, 
as in case of the volcano of Stromboli in the Mediterranean. This state is 
not a dangerous one, since the steam, escaping continually, acts as a 
safety valve. The second stage is one of milder activity with an 
occasional somewhat violent eruption; this is apt to be dangerous, though 
not often very greatly so. The safety valve is partly out of order. The 
third phase is one in which long periods of repose, sometimes lasting for 
centuries, are followed by eruptions of intense energy. These are often of 
extreme violence and cause widespread destruction. In this case the safety 
valve has failed to work and the boiler bursts. 

OFTEN REST FOR LONG TERMS OF YEARS 

Such are the general features of action in the vast powers which dwell 
deep beneath the surface, harmless in most parts of the earth, frightfully 
perilous in others. Yet even here they often rest for long terms of years 
in seeming apathy, until men gather above their lurking places in 
multitudes, heedless or ignorant of the sleeping demons that bide their 
time below. Their time is sure to come, after years, perhaps after 
centuries. Suddenly the solid earth begins to tremble and quake; roars as 
of one of the buried giants of old strike all men with dread; then, with a 
fierce convulsion, a mountain is rent in twain and vast torrents of steam, 
burning rock, and blinding dust are hurled far upward into the air, to 
fall again and bury cities, perhaps, with all their inhabitants in 
indiscriminate ruin and death. 



CHAPTER XIX. 
THEORIES OF VOLCANIC AND EARTHQUAKE ACTION

Though the first formation of a volcano (Italian, vulcano, from Vulcan, 
the Roman god of fire) has seldom been witnessed, it would seem that it is 
marked by earthquake movements followed by the opening of a rent or 
fissure; but with no such tilting up of the rocks as was once supposed to 
take place. From this fissure large volumes of steam issue, accompanied by 
hydrogen, nitrogen, carbon dioxide, hydrochloric acid, and sulphur 
dioxide. The hydrogen, apparently derived from the dissociation of water 
at a high temperature, flashes explosively into union with atmospheric 
oxygen, and, having exerted its explosive force, the steam condenses into 
cloud, heavy masses of which overhang the volcano, pouring down copious 
rains. This naturally disturbs the electrical condition of the atmosphere, 
so that thunder and lightning are frequent accompaniments of an eruption. 
The hydrochloric acid probably points to the agency of sea-water. Besides 
the gases just mentioned, sulphuretted hydrogen, ammonia and common salt 
occur; but mainly as secondary products, formed by the union of the vapors 
issuing from the volcano, and commonly found also in the vapors rising 
from cooling lava streams or dormant volcanic districts. It is important 
to notice that the vapors issue from the volcano spasmodically, explosions 
succeeding each other with great rapidity and noise. 

All substances thrown out by the volcano, whether gaseous, liquid or 
solid, are conveniently united under the term ejectamenta (Latin, things 
thrown out), and all of them are in an intensely heated, if not an 
incandescent state. Most of the gases are incombustible, but the hydrogen 
and those containing sulphur burn with a true flame, perhaps rendered more 
visible by the presence of solid particles. Much of the so-called flame, 
however, in popular descriptions of eruptions is an error of observation 
due to the red-hot solid particles and the reflection of the glowing 
orifice on the over-hanging clouds. 

ENORMOUS FORCE DISPLAYED 

Solid bodies are thrown into the air with enormous force and to 
proportionally great heights, those not projected vertically falling in 
consequence at considerable distances from the volcano. A block weighing 
200 tons is said to have been thrown nine miles by Cotopaxi; masses of 
rock weighing as much as twenty tons to have been ejected by Mount Ararat 
in 1840; and stones to have been hurled to a distance of thirty-six miles 
in other cases. The solid matter thrown out by volcanoes consists of 
lapilli, scoriae, dust and bombs. 

Though on the first formation of the volcano, masses of non- volcanic rock 
may be torn from the chimney or pipe of the mountain, only slightly fused 
externally owing to the bad conducting power of most rocks, and hurled to 
a distance; and though at the beginning of a subsequent eruption the solid 
plug of rock which has cooled at the bottom of the crater, or, in fact, 
any part of the volcano, may be similarly blown up, the bulk of the solid 
particles of which the volcano itself is composed is derived from the lake 
of lava or molten rock which seethes at the orifice. Solid pieces rent 
from this fused mass and cast up by the explosive force of the steam with 
which the lava is saturated are known as lapilli. Cooling rapidly so as to 
be glassy in texture externally, these often have time to become perfectly 
crystalline within. 

Gases and steam escaping from other similar masses may leave them hollow, 
when they are termed bombs, or may pit their surfaces with irregular 
bubble-cavities, when they are called scoriae or scoriaceous. Such masses 
whirling through the air in a plastic state often become more or less 
oblately spheroidal in form; but, as often, the explosive force of their 
contained vapors shatters them into fragments, producing quantities of the 
finest volcanic dust or sand. This fine dust darkens the clouds 
overhanging the mountain, mixes with the condensed steam to fall as a 
black mud- rain, or lava di aqua (Italian, water lava), or is carried up 
to enormous heights, and then slowly diffused by upper currents of the 
atmosphere. In the eruption of Vesuvius of A.D. 79, the air was dark as 
midnight for twelve or fifteen miles round; the city of Pompeii was buried 
beneath a deposit of dry scoriae, or ashes and dust, and Herculaneum 
beneath a layer of the mud-like lava di aqua, which on drying sets into a 
compact rock. Rocks formed from these fragmentary volcanic materials are 
known as tuff. 

VOLCANIC CONES HAVE SIMILAR CURVATURES 

It is entirely of these cindery fragments heaped up with marvellous 
rapidity round the orifice that the volcano itself is first formed. It 
may, as in the case of Jorullo in Mexico in 1759, form a cone several 
hundred feet high in less than a day. Such a cone may have a slope as 
steep as 30 or 40 degrees, its incline in all cases depending simply on 
the angle of repose of its materials; the inclination, that is, at which 
they stop rolling. The great volcanoes of the Andes, which are formed 
mainly of ash, are very steep. Owing to a general similarity in their 
materials, volcanic cones in all parts of the world have very similar 
curvatures; but older volcanic mountains, in which lava-streams have 
broken through the cone, secondary cones have arisen, or portions have 
been blown up, are more irregular in outline and more gradual in 
inclination. 

In size, volcanoes vary from mere mounds a few yards in diameter, such as 
the salses or mud volcanoes near the Caspian, to Etna, 10,800 feet high, 
with a base 30 miles in diameter; Cotopaxi, in the Andes, 18,887 feet 
high; or Mauna Loa, in the Sandwich Isles, 13,700 feet high; with a base 
70 miles in diameter, and two craters, one of which, Kilauea, the largest 
active crater on our earth, is seven miles in circuit. Larger extinct 
craters occur in Japan; but all our terrestrial volcanic mountains are 
dwarfed by those observed on the surface of the moon, which, owing to its 
smaller size, has cooled more rapidly than our earth. It is, of course, 
the explosive force from below which keeps the crater clear, as a cup-
shaped hollow, truncating the cone; and all stones falling into it would 
be only thrown out again. It may at the close of an eruption cool down so 
completely that a lake can form within it, such as Lake Averno, near 
Naples; or it may long remain a seething sea of lava, such as Kilauea; or 
the lava may find one or more outlets from it, either by welling over its 
rim, which it will then generally break down, as in many of the small 
extinct volcanoes ("puys") of Auvergne, or more usually by bursting 
through the sides of the cone. 

LAVA VARIES VERY MUCH IN LIQUIDITY 

It is not generally until the volcano has exhausted its first explosive 
force that lava begins to issue. Several streams may issue in different 
directions. Their dimensions are sometimes enormous. Lava varies very much 
in liquidity and in the rate at which it flows. This much depends, 
however, upon the slope it has to traverse. A lava stream at Vesuvius ran 
three miles in four minutes, but took three hours to flow the next three 
miles, while a stream from Mauna Loa ran eighteen miles in two hours. 
Glowing at first as a white-hot liquid, the lava soon cools at the surface 
to red and then to black; cinder-like scoriaceous masses form on its 
surface and in front of the slowly-advancing mass; clouds of steam and 
other vapor rise from it, and little cones are thrown up from its surface; 
but many years may elapse before the mass is cooled through. Thus, while 
the surface is glassy, the interior becomes crystalline. 

As to what are the causes of the great convulsions of nature known as the 
volcano and the earthquake we know very little. Various theories have been 
advanced, but nothing by any means sure has been discovered, and 
considerable difference of opinion exists. In truth we know so little 
concerning the conditions existing in the earth's interior that any views 
concerning the forces at work there must necessarily be largely 
conjectural. 

Sir Robert S. Ball says, in this connection: "Let us take, for instance, 
that primary question in terrestrial physics, as to whether the interior 
of the earth is liquid or solid. If we were to judge merely from the 
temperatures reasonably believed to exist at a depth of some twenty miles, 
and if we might overlook the question of pressure, we should certainly say 
that the earth's interior must be in a fluid state. It seems at least 
certain that the temperatures to be found at depths of two score miles, 
and still more at greater depths, must be so high that the most refractory 
solids, whether metals or minerals, would at once yield if we could 
subject them to such temperatures in our laboratories. But none of our 
laboratory experiments can tell us whether, under the pressure of 
thousands of tons on the square inch, the application of any heat whatever 
would be adequate to transform solids into liquids. It may, indeed, be 
reasonably doubted whether the terms solid and liquid are applicable, in 
the sense in which we understand them, to the materials forming the 
interior of the earth. 

"A principle, already well known in the arts, is that many, if not all, 
solids may be made to flow like liquids if only adequate pressure be 
applied. The making of lead tubes is a well-known practical illustration 
of this principle, for these tubes are formed simply by forcing solid lead 
by the hydraulic press through a mould which imparts the desired shape. 

"If then a solid can be made to behave like a liquid, even with such 
pressures as are within our control, how are we to suppose that the solids 
would behave with such pressures as those to which they are subjected in 
the interior of the earth? The fact is that the terms solid and liquid, at 
least as we understand them, appear to have no physical meaning with 
regard to bodies subjected to these stupendous pressures, and this must be 
carefully borne in mind when we are discussing the nature of the interior 
of the earth." 

THE VOLCANO A SAFETY VALVE 

Whatever be the state of affairs in the depths of the earth's crust, we 
may look upon the volcano as a sort of safety-valve, opening a passage for 
the pent-up forces to the surface, and thus relieving the earth from the 
terrible effects of the earthquake, through which these imprisoned powers 
so often make themselves felt. Without the volcanic vent there might be no 
safety for man on the earth's unquiet face. 

Professor J. C. Russell, of Michigan University, presents the following 
views concerning the status and action of volcanoes:-- 

"When reduced to its simplest terms, a volcano may be defined as a tube, 
or conduit, in the earth's crust, through which the molten rock is forced 
to the surface. The conduit penetrates the cool and rigid rocks forming 
the superficial portion of the earth, and reaches its highly heated 
interior. 

"The length of volcanic conduits can only be conjectured, but, judging 
from the approximately known rate of increase of heat with depth (on an 
average one degree Fahrenheit for each sixty feet), and the temperature at 
which volcanic rocks melt (from 2,300 to 2,700 degrees Fahrenheit, when 
not under pressure), they must seemingly have a depth of at least twenty 
miles. There are other factors to be considered, but in general terms it 
is safe to assume that the conduits of volcanoes are irregular openings, 
many miles in depth, which furnish passageways for molten rock (lava) from 
the highly-heated sub-crust portion of the earth to its surface. . . . 

ERUPTIONS OF QUIET TYPE 

"During eruptions of the quiet type, the lava comes to the surface in a 
highly liquid condition--that is, it is thoroughly fused, and flows with 
almost the freedom of water. It spreads widely, even on a nearly level 
plain, and may form a comparatively thin sheet several hundred square 
miles in area, as has been observed in Iceland and Hawaii. On the Snake 
River plains, in Southern Idaho, there are sheets of once molten rock 
which were poured out in the manner just stated, some four hundred square 
miles in area and not over seventy-five feet in average thickness. When an 
eruption of highly liquid lava occurs in a mountainous region, the molten 
rock may cascade down deep slopes and flow through narrow valleys for 
fifty miles or more before becoming chilled sufficiently to arrest its 
progress. Instances are abundant where quiet eruptions have occurred in 
the midst of a plain, and built up 'lava cones,' or low mounds, with 
immensely expanded bases. Illustrations are furnished in Southern Idaho, 
in which the cones formed are only three hundred or four hundred feet 
high, but have a breadth at the base of eight or ten miles. In the class 
of eruption illustrated by these examples, there is an absence of 
fragmental material, such as explosive volcanoes hurl into the air, and a 
person may stand within a few yards of a rushing stream of molten rock, or 
examine closely the opening from which it is being poured out, without 
danger or serious inconvenience. 

"The quiet volcanic eruptions are attended by the escape of steam or gases 
from the molten rock, but the lava being in a highly liquid state, the 
steam and gases dissolved in it escape quietly and without explosions. If, 
however, the molten rock is less completely fluid, or in a viscous 
condition, the vapors and gases contained in it find difficulty in 
escaping, and may be retained until, becoming concentrated in large 
volume, they break their way to the surface, producing violent explosions. 
Volcanoes in which the lava extruded is viscous, and the escape of steam 
and gases is retarded until the pent-up energy bursts all bounds, are of 
the explosive, type. One characteristic example is Vesuvius. 

"When steam escapes from the summit of a volcanic conduit--which, in plain 
terms, is a tall vessel filled with intensely hot and more or less viscous 
liquid--masses of the liquid rock are blown into the air, and on falling 
build up a rim or crater about the place of discharge. Commonly the lava 
in the summit portion of a conduit becomes chilled and perhaps hardened, 
and when a steam explosion occurs this crust is shattered and the 
fragments hurled into the air and contributed to the building of the walls 
of the inclosing crater. 

"The solid rock blown out by volcanoes consists usually of highly 
vesicular material which hardened on the surface of the column of lava 
within a conduit and was shattered by explosions beneath it. These 
fragments vary in size from dust particles up to masses several feet in 
diameter, and during violent eruptions are hurled miles high. The larger 
fragments commonly fall near their place of origin, and usually furnish 
the principal part of the material of which craters are built, but the 
gravel-like kernels, lapilli, may be carried laterally several miles if a 
wind is blowing, while the dust is frequently showered down on thousands 
of square miles of land and sea. The solid and usually angular fragments 
manufactured in this manner vary in temperature, and may still be red hot 
on falling. 

"Volcanoes of the explosive type not uncommonly discharge streams of lava, 
which may flow many miles. In certain instances these outwellings of 
liquid rock occur after severe earthquakes and violent explosions, and may 
have all the characteristics of quiet eruptions. There is thus no 
fundamental difference between the two types into which it is convenient 
to divide volcanoes. 

MOUNTAINS BLOW THEIR HEADS OFF 

"In extreme examples of explosive volcanoes, the summit portion of a 
crater, perhaps several miles in circumference and several thousand feet 
high, is blown away. Such an occurrence is recorded in the case of the 
volcano Coseguina, Nicaragua, in 1835. Or, an entire mountain may 
disappear, being reduced to lapilli and dust and blown into the air, as in 
the case of Krakatoa, in the Straits of Sunda, in 1883. 

"The essential feature of a volcano, as stated above, is a tube or 
conduit, leading from the highly heated sub-crust portion of the earth to 
the crater and through which molten rock is forced upward to the surface. 
The most marked variations in the process depend on the quantity of molten 
rock extruded, and on the freedom of escape of the steam and gases 
contained in the lava. 

"The cause of the rise of the molten rock in a volcano is still a matter 
for discussion. Certain geologists contend that steam is the sole motive 
power; while others consider that the lava is forced to the surface owing 
to pressure on the reservoir from which it comes. The view perhaps most 
favorably entertained at present, in reference to the general nature of 
volcanic eruptions, is that the rigid outer portion of the earth becomes 
fractured, owing principally to movements resulting from the shrinking of 
the cooling inner mass, and that the intensely hot material reached by the 
fissures, previously solid owing to pressure, becomes liquid when pressure 
is relieved, and is forced to the surface. As the molten material rises it 
invades the water-charged rocks near the surface and acquires steam, or 
the gases resulting from the decomposition of water, and a new force is 
added which produces the most conspicuous and at times the most terrible 
phenomena accompanying eruptions." 

The active agency of water is strongly maintained by many geologists, and 
certainly gains support from the vast clouds of steam given off by 
volcanoes in eruption and the steady and quiet emission of steam from many 
in a state of rest. The quantities of water in the liquid state, to which 
is due the frequent enormous outflows of mud, leads to the same 
conclusion. Many scientists, indeed, while admitting the agency of water, 
look upon this as the aqueous material originally pent up within the 
rocks. For instance Professor Shaler, dean of the Lawrence Scientific 
School, says: 

"Volcanic outbreaks are merely the explosion of steam under high pressure, 
steam which is bound in rocks buried underneath the surface of the earth 
and there subjected to such tremendous heat that when the conditions are 
right its pent-up energy breaks forth and it shatters its stone prison 
walls into dust. The process by which the water becomes buried in this 
manner is a long one. Some contend that it leaks down from the surface of 
the earth through fissures in the outer crust, but this theory is not 
generally accepted. The common belief is that water enters the rocks 
during the crystalization period, and that these rocks through the natural 
action of rivers and streams become deposited in the bottom of the ocean. 
Here they lie for many ages, becoming buried deeper and deeper under 
masses of like sediment, which are constantly being washed down upon them 
from above. This process is called the blanketing process. 

"Each additional layer of sediment, while not raising the level of the sea 
bottom, buries the first layers just so much the deeper and adds to their 
temperature just as does the laying of extra blankets on a bed. When the 
first layer has reached a depth of a few thousand feet the rocks which 
contain the water of crystalization are subjected to a terrific heat. This 
heat generates steam, which is held in a state of frightful tension in its 
rocky prison. Wrinklings in the outer crust of the earth's surface occur, 
caused by the constant shrinking of the earth itself and by the 
contraction of the outer surface as it settles on the plastic centers 
underneath. Fissures are caused by these foldings, and as these fissures 
reach down into the earth the pressure is removed from the rocks and the 
compressed steam in them, being released, explodes with tremendous force." 

This view is, very probably, applicable to many cases, and the exceedingly 
fine dust which so often rises from volcanoes has, doubtless, for one of 
its causes the sudden and explosive conversion of water into steam in the 
interior of ejected lava, thus rending it into innumerable fragments. But 
that this is the sole mode of action of water in volcanic eruptions is 
very questionable. It certainly does not agree with the immense volumes at 
times thrown out, while explosions of such extreme intensity as that of 
Krakatoa very strongly lead to the conclusion that a great mass of water 
has made its way through newly opened fissures to the level of molten 
rock, and exploded into steam with a suddenness which gave it the rending 
force of dynamite or the other powerful chemical explosives. 

As the earthquake is so intimately associated with the volcano the causes 
of the latter are in great measure the causes of the former, and the 
forces at work frequently produce a more or less violent quaking of the 
earth's surface before they succeed in opening a channel of escape through 
the mountain's heart. One agency of great potency, and one whose work 
never ceases, has doubtless much to do with earthquake action. In the 
description of this we cannot do better than to quote from "The Earth's 
Beginning" of Sir Robert S. Ball. 

CAUSE OF EARTHQUAKES 

"As to the immediate cause of earthquakes there is no doubt considerable 
difference of opinion. But I think it will not be doubted that an 
earthquake is one of the consequences, though perhaps a remote one, of the 
gradual loss of internal heat from the earth. As this terrestrial heat is 
gradually declining, it follows from the law that we have already so often 
had occasion to use that the bulk of the earth must be shrinking. No doubt 
the diminution in the earth's diameter due to the loss of heat must be 
exceedingly small, even in a long period of time. The cause, however, is 
continually in operation, and, accordingly, the crust of the earth has 
from time to time to be accommodated to the fact that the whole globe is 
lessening. The circumference of our earth at the equator must be gradually 
declining; a certain length in that circumference is lost each year. We 
may admit that loss to be a quantity far too small to be measured by any 
observations as yet obtainable, but, nevertheless, it is productive of 
phenomena so important that it cannot be overlooked. 

"It follows from these considerations that the rocks which form the 
earth's crust over the surface of the continents and the islands, or 
beneath the bed of the ocean, must have a lessening acreage year by year. 
These rocks must therefore submit to compression, either continuously or 
from time to time, and the necessary yielding of the rocks will in general 
take place in those regions where the materials of the earth's crust 
happen to have comparatively small powers of resistance. The acts of 
compression will often, and perhaps generally, not proceed with 
uniformity, but rather with small successive shifts, and even though the 
displacements of the rocks in these shifts be actually very small, yet the 
pressures to which the rocks are subjected are so vast that a very small 
shift may correspond to a very great terrestrial disturbance. 

"Suppose, for instance, that there is a slight shift in the rocks on each 
side of a crack, or fault, at a depth of ten miles. It must be remembered 
that the pressure ten miles down would be about thirty-five tons to the 
square inch. Even a slight displacement of one extensive surface over 
another, the sides being pressed together with a force of thirty-five tons 
on the square inch, would be an operation necessarily accompanied by 
violence greatly exceeding that which we might expect from so small a 
displacement if the forces concerned had been of more ordinary magnitude. 
On account of this great multiplication of the intensity of the 
phenomenon, merely a small rearrangement of the rocks in the crust of the 
earth, in pursuance of the necessary work of accommodating its volume to 
the perpetual shrinkage, might produce an excessively violent shock, 
extending far and wide. The effect of such a shock would be propagated in 
the form of waves through the globe, just as a violent blow given at one 
end of a bar of iron by a hammer is propagated through the bar in the form 
of waves. When the effect of this internal adjustment reaches the earth's 
surface it will sometimes be great enough to be perceptible in the shaking 
it gives that surface. The shaking may be so violent that buildings may 
not be able to withstand it. Such is the phenomenon of an earthquake. 

"When the earth is shaken by one of those occasional adjustments of the 
crust which I have described, the wave that spreads like a pulsation from 
the centre of agitation extends all over our globe and is transmitted 
right through it. At the surface lying immediately over the centre of 
disturbance there will be a violent shock. In the surrounding country, and 
often over great distances, the earthquake may also be powerful enough to 
produce destructive effects. The convulsion may also be manifested over a 
far larger area of country in a way which makes the shock to be felt, 
though the damage wrought may not be appreciable. But beyond a limited 
distance from the centre of the agitation the earthquake will produce no 
destructive effects upon buildings, and will not even cause vibrations 
that would be appreciable to ordinary observation. 

THE RADIUS OF DISTURBANCE. 

"In each locality in which earthquakes are chronic it would seem as if 
there must be a particularly weak spot in the earth some miles below the 
surface. A shrinkage of the earth, in the course of the incessant 
adjustment between the interior and the exterior, will take place by 
occasional little jumps at this particular centre. The fact that there is 
this weak spot at which small adjustments are possible may provide, as it 
were, a safety-valve for other places in the same part of the world. 
Instead of a general shrinking, the materials would be sufficiently 
elastic and flexible to allow the shrinking for a very large area to be 
done at this particular locality. In this way we may explain the fact that 
immense tracts on the earth are practically free from earthquakes of a 
serious character, while in the less fortunate regions the earthquakes are 
more or less perennial. 

"Now, suppose an earthquake takes place in Japan, it originates a series 
of vibrations through our globe. We must here distinguish between the 
rocks--I might almost say the comparatively pliant rocks--which form the 
earth's crust, and those which form the intensely rigid core of the 
interior of our globe. The vibrations which carry the tidings of the 
earthquake spread through the rocks on the surface, from the centre of the 
disturbance, in gradually enlarging circles. We may liken the spread of 
these vibrations to the ripples in a pool of water which diverge from the 
spot where a raindrop has fallen. The vibrations transmitted by the rocks 
on the surface, or on the floor of the ocean, will carry the message all 
over the earth. As these rocks are flexible, at all events by comparison 
with the earth's interior, the vibrations will be correspondingly large, 
and will travel with vigor over land and under sea. In due time they 
reach, say the Isle of Wight, where they set the pencil of the seismometer 
at work. But there are different ways round the earth from Japan to the 
Isle of Wight, the most direct route being across Asia and Europe; the 
other route across the Pacific, America, and the Atlantic. The vibrations 
will travel by both routes, and the former is the shorter of the two." 

TRANSMISSIONS OF VIBRATIONS 

Some brief repetition may not here be amiss as to the products of volcanic 
action, of which so much has been said in the preceding pages, especially 
as many of the terms are to some extent technical in character. The most 
abundant of these substances is steam or water-gas, which, as we have 
seen, issues in prodigious quantities during every eruption. But with the 
steam a great number of other volatile materials frequently make their 
appearance. Though we have named a number of these at the beginning of 
this chapter, it will not be out of order to repeat them here. The chief 
among these are the acid gases known as hydrochloric acid, sulphurous 
acid, sulphuretted hydrogen, carbonic acid, and boracic acid; and with 
these acid gases there issue hydrogen, nitrogen ammonia, the volatile 
metals arsenic, antimony, and mercury, and some other substances. These 
volatile substances react upon one another, and many new compounds are 
thus formed. By the action of sulphurous acid and sulphuretted hydrogen on 
each other, the sulphur so common in volcanic districts is separated and 
deposited. The hydrochloric acid acts very energetically on the rocks 
around the vents, uniting with the iron in them to form the yellow ferric-
chloride, which often coats the rocks round the vent and is usually 
mistaken by casual observers for sulphur. 

Some of the substances emitted by volcanic vents, such as hydrogen and 
sulphuretted hydrogen, are inflammable, and when they issue at a high 
temperature these gases burst into flame the moment that they come into 
contact with the air. Hence, when volcanic fissures are watched at night, 
faint lambent flames are frequently seen playing over them, and sometimes 
these flames are brilliantly colored, through the presence of small 
quantities of certain metallic oxides. Such volcanic flames, however, are 
scarcely ever strongly luminous, and the red, glowing light which is 
observed over volcanic mountains in eruption is due to quite another 
cause. What is usually taken for flame during a volcanic eruption is 
simply, as we have before stated, the glowing light of the surface of a 
mass of red-hot lava reflected from the cloud of vapor and dust in the 
air, much as the lights of a city are reflected from the water vapor of 
the atmosphere during a night of fog. 

Besides the volatile substances which issue from volcanic vents, mingling 
with the atmosphere or condensing upon their sides, there are many solid 
materials ejected, and these may accumulate around the orifice's till they 
build up mountains of vast dimensions, like Etna, Teneriffe, and 
Chimborazo. Some of these solid materials are evidently fragments of the 
rock-masses, through which the volcanic fissure has been rent; these 
fragments have been carried upwards by the force of the steam-blast and 
scattered over the sides of the volcano. But the principal portion of the 
solid materials ejected from volcanic orifices consists of matter which 
has been extruded from sources far beneath the surface, in highly-heated 
and fluid or semi-fluid condition. 

It is to these materials that the name of "lavas" is properly applied. 
Lavas present a general resemblance to the slags and clinkers which are 
formed in our furnaces and brick-kilns, and consist, like them, of various 
stony substances which have been more or less perfectly fused. When we 
come to study the chemical composition and the microscopical structure of 
lavas, however, we shall find that there are many respects in which they 
differ entirely from these artificial products, they consisting chiefly of 
felspar, or of this substance in association with augite or hornblende. In 
texture they may be stony, glassy, resin-like, vesicular or cellular and 
light in weight, as in the case of pumice or scoria. 

FLOATING PUMICE 

The steam and other gases rising through liquid lava are apt to produce 
bubbles, yielding a surface froth or foam. This froth varies greatly in 
character according to the nature of the material from which it is formed. 
In the majority of cases the lavas consist of a mass of crystals floating 
in a liquid magma, and the distension of such a mass by the escape of 
steam from its midst gives rise to the formation of the rough cindery-
looking material to which the name of "scoria" is applied. But when the 
lava contains no ready-formed crystals, but consists entirely of a glassy 
substance in a more or less perfect state of fusion, the liberation of 
steam gives rise to the formation of the beautiful material known as 
"pumice." Pumice consists of a mass of minute glass bubbles; these bubbles 
do not usually, however, retain their globular form, but are elongated in 
one direction through the movement of the mass while it is still in a 
plastic state. The quantity of this substance ejected is often enormous. 
We have seen to what a vast extent it was thrown out from the crater of 
Krakatoa. During the year 1878, masses of floating pumice were reported as 
existing in the vicinity of the Solomon Isles, and covering the surface of 
the sea to such extent that it took ships three days to force their way 
through them. Sometimes this substance accumulates in such quantities 
along coasts that it is difficult to determine the position of the shore 
within a mile or two, as we may land and walk about on the great floating 
raft of pumice. Recent deep-sea soundings, carried on in the Challenger 
and other vessels, have shown that the bottom of the deepest portion of 
the ocean, far away from the land, is covered with volcanic materials 
which have been carried through the air or have floated on the surface of 
the ocean. 

Fragments of scoria or pumice may be thrown hundreds or thousands of feet 
into the atmosphere, those that fall into the crater and are flung up 
again being gradually reduced in size by friction. Thus it is related by 
Mr. Poulett Scrope, who watched the Vesuvian eruption of 1822, which 
lasted for nearly a month, that during the earlier stages of the outburst 
fragments of enormous size were thrown out of the crater, but by constant 
re-ejection these were gradually reduced in size, till at last only the 
most impalpable dust issued from the vent. This dust filled the 
atmosphere, producing in the city of Naples "a darkness that might be 
felt." So excessively finely divided was it, that it penetrated into all 
drawers, boxes, and the most closely fastened receptacles, filling them 
completely. The fragmentary materials ejected from volcanoes are often 
given the name of cinders or ashes. These, however, are terms of 
convenience only, and do not properly describe the volcanic material. 

Sometimes the passages of steam through a mass of molten glass produces 
large quantities of a material resembling spun glass. Small particles of 
this glass are carried into the air and leave behind them thin, glassy 
filaments like a tail. At the volcano of Kilauea in Hawaii, this 
substance, as previously stated, is abundantly produced, and is known as 
'Pele's Hair'--Pele being the name of the goddess of the mountain. Birds' 
nests are sometimes found composed of this beautiful material. In recent 
years an artificial substance similar to this Pele's hair has been 
extensively manufactured by passing jets of steam through the molten slag 
of iron-furnaces; it resembles cotton-wool, but is made up of fine threads 
of glass, and is employed for the packing of boilers and other purposes. 

The lava itself, as left in huge deposits upon the surface, assumes 
various forms, some crystalline, others glassy. The latter is usually 
found in the condition known as obsidian, ordinarily black in color, and 
containing few or no crystals. It is brittle, and splits into sharp-edged 
or pointed fragments, which were used by primitive peoples for arrow-
heads, knives and other cutting implements. The ancient Mexicans used bits 
of it for shaving purposes, it having an edge of razor-like sharpness. 
They also used it as the cutting part of their weapons of war. 



CHAPTER XX. 
THE ACTIVE VOLCANOES OF THE EARTH

It is not by any means an easy task to frame an estimate of the number of 
volcanoes in the world. Volcanoes vary greatly in their dimensions, from 
vast mountain masses, rising to a height of nearly 25,000 feet above sea-
level, to mere molehills. They likewise exhibit every possible stage of 
development and decay: while some are in a state of chronic active 
eruption, others are reduced to the condition of solfataras, or vents 
emitting acid vapors, and others again have fallen into a more or less 
complete state of ruin through the action of denuding forces. 

NUMBER OF ACTIVE VOLCANOES 

Even if we confine our attention to the larger volcanoes, which merit the 
name of mountains, and such of these as we have reason to believe to be in 
a still active condition, our difficulties will be diminished, but not by 
any means removed. Volcanoes may sink into a dormant condition that at 
times endures for hundreds or even thousands of years, and then burst 
forth into a state of renewed activity; and it is quite impossible, in 
many cases, to distinguish between the conditions of dormancy and 
extinction. 

We shall, however, probably be within the limits of truth in stating that 
the number of great habitual volcanic vents upon the globe which we have 
reason to believe are still in active condition, is somewhere between 300 
and 350. Most of these are marked by more or less considerable mountains, 
composed of the materials ejected from them. But if we include mountains 
which exhibit the external conical form, crater-like hollows, and other 
features of volcanoes, yet concerning the activity of which we have no 
record or tradition, the number will fall little, if anything, short of 1,
000. 

The mountains composed of volcanic materials, but which have lost through 
denudation the external form of volcanoes, are still more numerous, and 
the smaller temporary openings which are usually subordinate to the 
habitual vents that have been active during the periods covered by history 
and tradition, must be numbered by thousands. There are still feebler 
manifestations of the volcanic forces--such as steam-jets, geysers, 
thermal and mineral waters, spouting saline and muddy springs, and mud 
volcanoes--that may be reckoned by millions. It is not improbable that 
these less powerful manifestations of the volcanic forces to a great 
extent make up in number what they want in individual energy; and the 
relief which they afford to the imprisoned activities within the earth's 
crust may be almost equal to that which results from the occasional 
outbursts at the great habitual volcanic vents. 

In taking a general survey of the volcanic phenomena of the globe, no 
facts come out more strikingly than that of the very unequal distribution, 
both of the great volcanoes, and of the minor exhibitions of subterranean 
energy. 

Thus, on the whole of the continent of Europe, there is but one habitual 
volcanic vent--that of Vesuvius--and this is situated upon the shores of 
the Mediterranean. In the islands of that sea, however there are no less 
than six volcanoes: namely, Stromboli, and Vulcano, in the Lipari Islands; 
Etna, in Sicily; Graham's Isle, a submarine volcano, off the Sicilian 
coast; and Santorin and Nisyros, in the Aegean Sea. 

The African continent is at present known to contain about ten active 
volcanoes--four on the west coast, and six on the east coast, while about 
ten other active volcanoes occur on islands close to the African coasts. 
On the continent of Asia, more than twenty active volcanoes are known or 
believed to exist, but no less than twelve of these are situated in the 
peninsula of Kamchatka. No volcanoes are known to exist in the Australian 
continent. 

The American continent contains a greater number of volcanoes than the 
continents of the Old World. There are twenty in North America, twenty-
five in Central America, and thirty-seven in South America. Thus, taken 
altogether, there are about one hundred and seventeen volcanoes situated 
on the great continental lands of the globe, while nearly twice as many 
occur upon the islands scattered over the various oceans. 

ASIATIC INLAND VOLCANOES 

Upon examining further into the distribution of the continental volcanoes, 
another very interesting fact presents itself. The volcanoes are in almost 
every instance situated either close to the coasts of the continent, or at 
no great distance from them. There are, indeed, only two exceptions to 
this rule. In the great and almost wholly unexplored table-land lying 
between Siberia and Tibet four volcanoes are said to exist, and in the 
Chinese province of Manchuria several others. More reliable information 
is, however, needed concerning these volcanoes. 

It is a remarkable circumstance that all the oceanic islands which are not 
coral-reefs are composed of volcanic rocks; and many of these oceanic 
islands, as well as others lying near the shores of the continents, 
contain active volcanoes. 

Through the midst of the Atlantic Ocean runs a ridge, which, by the 
soundings of the various exploring vessels sent out in recent years, has 
been shown to divide the ocean longitudinally into two basins. Upon this 
great ridge, and the spurs proceeding from it, rise numerous mountainous 
masses, which constitute the well-known Atlantic islands and groups of 
islands. All of these are of volcanic origin, and among them are numerous 
active volcanoes. The Island of Jan Mayen contains an active volcano, and 
Iceland contains thirteen, and not improbably more; the Azores have six 
active volcanoes, the Canaries three; while about eight volcanoes lie off 
the west coast of Africa. In the West Indies there are six active 
volcanoes; and three submarine volcanoes have been recorded within the 
limits of the Atlantic Ocean. Altogether, no less than forty active 
volcanoes are situated upon the great submarine ridges which traverse the 
Atlantic longitudinally. 

But along the same line the number of extinct volcanoes is far greater, 
and there are not wanting proofs that the volcanoes which are still active 
are approaching the condition of extinction. 

VOLCANOES OF THE PACIFIC 

If the great medial chain of the Atlantic presents us with an example of a 
chain of volcanic mountains verging on extinction, we have in the line of 
islands separating the Pacific and Indian Oceans an example of a similar 
range of volcanic vents which are in a condition of the greatest activity. 
In the peninsula of Kamchatka there are twelve active volcanoes, in the 
Aleutian Islands thirty-one, and in the peninsula of Alaska three. The 
chain of the Kuriles contains at least ten active volcanoes; the Japanese 
Islands and the islands to the south of Japan twenty-five. The great group 
of islands lying to the south-east of the Asiatic continent is at the 
present time the grandest focus of volcanic activity upon the globe. No 
less than fifty active volcanoes occur here. 

Farther south, the same chain is probably continued by the four active 
volcanoes of New Guinea, one or more submarine volcanoes, and several 
vents in New Britain, the Solomon Isles, and the New Hebrides, the three 
active volcanoes of New Zealand, and possibly by Mount Erebus and Mount 
Terror in the Antarctic region. Altogether, no less than 150 active 
volcanoes exist in the chain of islands which stretch from Behring's 
Straits down to the Antarctic circle; and if we include the volcanoes on 
Indian and Pacific Islands which appear to be situated on lines branching 
from this particular band, we shall not be wrong in the assertion that 
this great system of volcanic mountains includes at least one half of the 
habitually active vents of the globe. In addition to the active vents, 
there are here several hundred very perfect volcanic cones, many of which 
appear to have recently become extinct, though some of them may be merely 
dormant, biding their time. 

A third series of volcanoes starts from the neighborhood of Behring's 
Straits, and stretches along the whole western coast of the American 
continent. This is much less continuous, but nevertheless very important, 
and contains, with its branches, nearly a hundred active volcanoes. On the 
north this great band is almost united with the one we have already 
described by the chain of the Aleutian and Alaska volcanoes. In British 
Columbia about the parallel of 60 degrees N. there exist a number of 
volcanic mountains, one of which, Mount St. Elias, is believed to be 18,
000 feet in height. Farther south, in the territory of the United States, 
a number of grand volcanic mountains exist, some of which are probably 
still active, for geysers and other manifestations of volcanic activity 
abound. From the southern extremity of the peninsula of California an 
almost continuous chain of volcanoes stretches through Mexico and 
Guatemala, and from this part of the volcanic band a branch is given off 
which passes through the West Indies, and contains the volcanoes which 
have so recently given evidence of their vital activity. 

In South America the line is continued by the active volcanoes of Ecuador, 
Bolivia and Chile, but at many intermediate points in the chain of the 
Andes extinct volcanoes occur, which to a great extent fill up the gaps in 
the series. A small offshoot to the westward passes through the Galapagos 
Islands. The great band of volcanoes which stretches through the American 
continent is second only in importance, and in the activity of its vents, 
to the band which divides the Pacific from the Indian Ocean. 

The third volcanic band of the globe is that, already spoken of, which 
traverses the Atlantic Ocean from north to south. This series of volcanic 
mountains is much more broken and interrupted than the other two, and a 
greater proportion of its vents are extinct. It attained its condition of 
maximum activity during the distant period of the Miocene, and now appears 
to be passing into a state of gradual extinction. 

Beginning in the north with the volcanic rocks of Greenland and Bear 
Island, we pass southwards, by way of Jan Mayen, Iceland and the Faroe 
Islands, to the Hebrides and the north of Ireland. Thence, by way of the 
Azores, the Canaries and the Cape de Verde Islands, with some active 
vents, we pass to the ruined volcanoes of St. Paul, Fernando de Noronha, 
Ascension, St. Helena, Trinidad and Tristan da Cunha. From this great 
Atlantic band two branches proceed to the eastward, one through Central 
Europe, where all the vents are now extinct, and the other through the 
Mediterranean to Asia Minor, the great majority of the volcanoes along the 
latter line being now extinct, though a few are still active. The 
volcanoes on the eastern coast of Africa may be regarded as situated on 
another branch from this Atlantic volcanic band. The number of active 
volcanoes on this Atlantic band and its branches, exclusive of those in 
the West Indies, does not exceed fifty. 

THIAN SHAN AND HAWAIIAN VOLCANOES 

From what has been said, it will be seen that the volcanoes of the globe 
not only usually assume a linear arrangement, but nearly the whole of them 
can be shown to be thrown up along three well-marked bands and the 
branches proceeding from them. The first and most important of these bands 
is nearly 10,000 miles in length, and with its branches contains more than 
150 active volcanoes; the second is 8,000 miles in length, and includes 
about 100 active volcanoes; the third is much more broken and interrupted, 
extends to a length of nearly 1,000 miles, and contains about 50 active 
vents. The volcanoes of the eastern coast of Africa, with Mauritius, 
Bourbon, Rodriguez, and the vents along the line of the Red Sea, may be 
regarded as forming a fourth and subordinate band. 

Thus we see that the surface of the globe is covered by a network of 
volcanic bands, all of which traverse it in sinuous lines with a general 
north-and-south direction, giving off branches which often run for 
hundreds of miles, and sometimes appear to form a connection between the 
great bands. 

To this rule of the linear arrangement of the volcanic vents of the globe, 
and their accumulation along certain well-marked bands, there are two very 
striking exceptions, which we must now proceed to notice. 

In the very centre of the continent formed by Europe and Asia, the largest 
unbroken land-mass of the globe, there rises from the great central 
plateau the remarkable volcanoes of the Thian Shan Range. The existence of 
these volcanoes, of which only obscure traditional accounts had reached 
Europe before the year 1858, appears to be completely established by the 
researches of recent Russian and Swedish travelers. Three volcanic vents 
appear to exist in this region, and other volcanic phenomena have been 
stated to occur in the great plateau of Central Asia, but the existence of 
the latter appears to rest on very doubtful evidence. The only accounts 
which we have of the eruptions of these Thian Shan volcanoes are contained 
in Chinese histories and treatises on geography. 

The second exceptionally situated volcanic group is that of the Hawaiian 
Islands. While the Thian Shan volcanoes rise in the centre of the largest 
unbroken land-mass, and stand on the edge of the loftiest and greatest 
plateau in the world, the volcanoes of the Hawaiian Islands rise in the 
northern centre of the largest ocean and from almost the greatest depths 
in that ocean. All round the Hawaiian Islands the sea has a depth of from 
2,000 to 3,000 fathoms, and the island-group culminates in several 
volcanic cones, which rise to the height of nearly 14,000 feet above the 
sea-level. The volcanoes of the Hawaiian Islands are unsurpassed in height 
and bulk by those of any other part of the globe. 

With the exception of the two isolated groups of the Thian Shan and the 
Hawaiian Islands, nearly all the active volcanoes of the globe are 
situated near the limits which separate the great land-and- water-masses 
of the globe--that is to say, they occur either on the parts of continents 
not far removed from their coast-lines, or on islands in the ocean not 
very far distant from the shores. The fact of the general proximity of 
volcanoes to the sea is one which has frequently been pointed out by 
geographers, and may now be regarded as being thoroughly established. 

VOLCANOES PARALLEL TO MOUNTAIN CHAINS 

Many of the grandest mountain-chains have bands of volcanoes lying 
parallel to them. This is strikingly exhibited by the great mountain-
masses which lie on the western side of the American continent. The Rocky 
Mountains and the Andes consist of folded and crumpled masses of altered 
strata which, by the action of denuding forces, have been carved into 
series of ridges and summits. At many points, however, along the sides of 
these great chains we find that fissures have been opened and lines of 
volcanoes formed, from which enormous quantities of lava have flowed and 
covered great tracts of country. 

This is especially marked in the Snake River plain of Idaho, in the 
western United States. In this, and the adjoining regions of Oregon and 
Washington, an enormous tract of country has been overflowed by lava in a 
late geological period, the surface covered being estimated to have a 
larger area than France and Great Britain combined. The Snake River cuts 
through it in a series of picturesque gorges and rapids, enabling us to 
estimate its thickness, which is considered to average 4000 feet. Looked 
at from any point on its surface, one of these lava-plains appears as a 
vast level surface, like that of a lake bottom. This uniformity has been 
produced either by the lava rolling over a plain or lake bottom, or by the 
complete effacement of an original, undulating contour of the ground under 
hundreds or thousands of feet of lava in successive sheets. The lava, 
rolling up to the base of the mountains, has followed the sinuosities of 
their margin, as the waters of a lake follow its promontories and bays. 
Similar conditions exist along the Sierra Nevada range of California, and 
to some extent placer mining has gone on under immense beds of lava, by a 
process of tunneling beneath the volcanic rock. 

In some localities the volcanoes are of such height and dimensions as to 
overlook and dwarf the mountain-ranges by the side of which they lie. Some 
of the volcanoes lying parallel to the great American axis appear to be 
quite extinct, while others are in full activity. In the Eastern continent 
we find still more striking examples of parallelism between great mountain-
chains and the lands along which volcanic activity is exhibited--
volcanoes, active or extinct, following the line of the great east and 
west chains which extend through southern Europe and Asia. There are some 
other volcanic bands which exhibit a similar parallelism with mountain 
chains; but, on the other hand, there are volcanoes between which and the 
nearest mountain-axis no such connection can be traced. 

AREAS OF UPHEAVAL AND SUBSIDENCE 

There is one other fact concerning the mode of distribution of volcanoes 
upon the surface of the globe, to which we must allude. By a study of the 
evidences presented by coral-reefs, raised beaches, submerged forests, and 
other phenomena of a similar kind, it can be shown that certain wide areas 
of the land and of the ocean-floor are at the present time in a state of 
subsidence, while other equally large areas are being upheaved. And the 
observations of the geologist prove that similar upward and downward 
movements of portions of the earth's crust have been going on through all 
geological times. 

Now, as Mr. Darwin has so well shown in his work on "Coral Reefs," if we 
trace upon a map the areas of the earth's surface which are undergoing 
upheaval and subsidence respectively, we shall find that nearly all the 
active volcanoes of the globe are situated upon rising areas and that 
volcanic phenomena are conspicuously absent from those parts of the 
earth's crust which can be proved at the present day to be undergoing 
depression. 

The remarkable linear arrangement of volcanic vents has a significance 
that is well worthy of fuller consideration. There are facts known which 
point to the cause of this state of affairs. It is not uncommon for small 
cones of scoriae to be seen following lines on the flanks or at the base 
of a great volcanic mountain. These are undoubtedly lines of fissure, 
caused by the subterranean forces. In fact, such fissures have been seen 
opening on the sides of Mount Etna, in whose bottom could be seen the 
glowing lava. Along these fissures, in a few days, scoriae cones appeared; 
on one occasion no less than thirty-six in number. 

It is believed by geologists that the linear systems of volcanoes are 
ranged along similar lines of fissure in the earth's crust-- enormous 
breaks, extending for thousands of miles, and the result of internal 
energies acting through vast periods of time. Along these immense fissures 
in the earth's rock-crust there appear, in place of small scoriae cones, 
great volcanoes, built up through the ages by a series of powerful 
eruptions, and only ceasing to spout fire themselves when the portion of 
the great crack upon which they lie is closed. The greatest of these 
fissures is that along the vast sinuous band of volcanoes extending from 
near the Arctic circle at Behring's Straits to the Antarctic circle at 
South Victoria Land, not far from half round the earth. It doubtless marks 
the line of mighty forces which have been active for millions of years.