Charleston Earthquake, S.C., 1886 -- Fiction; South Carolina -- History -- 1865- -- Fiction
The fear among the educated had become definite and rational. Not that
they could explain the earthquake or its causes, but the sad experiences
of other regions were known to them. These experiences, however, had
varied so greatly in their horrors as to leave a wide margin of terrible
possibilities. A tidal wave might roll in, for the city was scarcely more
than nine feet above the sea. The earth might open in great and ingulfing
fissures. The tremendous forces beneath them might seek a volcanic outlet.
These were all dire thoughts, and were brought home to the consciousness
the more vividly because the awful phenomena continued in the serene light
of day. The nightmare aspect of what had occurred in darkness passed away,
and the coolest and most learned found themselves confronted by dangers
which they could not gauge or explain. Nor could the end be foreseen. If
such considerations weighed down the spirits of the most intelligent men,
imagine the fears of frail, nervous women, of the children, the wild panic
of the superstitious negroes to whom science explained nothing. To their
excited minds the earthquake was due directly either to the action of a
malignant, personal devil, or of an angry God. While many of the poor
ignorant creatures inevitably indulged in what were justly termed
"religious orgies," the great majority were well behaved and patient,
finding in their simple faith unspeakable comfort and support.
One fact, however, was clear to all: that the place of immediate and
greatest danger was near or beneath anything which might be prostrated by
the recurring shocks.
Another feature in Wednesday's experience was very depressing. The city
was completely isolated from the rest of the world. All telegraph-wires
were down, all railroads leading into the city had been rendered
impassable. For many hours those without who had friends and relatives in
Charleston were kept in dreadful suspense. From adjacent cities reports of
the catastrophe were flashed continuously, but in regard to Charleston
there was an ominous lack of information, and the fear was very general
that the city by the sea had sunk beneath the waves.
Mr. Ainsley shared in this horrible dread. He telegraphed repeatedly from
an inland town, and took the first train despatched toward the city. His
daughter was right in believing that he would reach her at the earliest
possible moment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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