the towers swayed and bent like trees; and the largest trees [broke] like the masts of a ship in the midst of a fierce hurricane. Nothing was heard but the crash of buildings mingled with the clamor of voices entreating Heaven for mercy, the cries of the terrified animals adding to the horror. In the streets could only be seen the heaps of stone from the ruined houses, which hindered the flight of those who in frightened haste were leaving their homes. At the first shock of the earthquake, which filled all with fear, some tried to save their lives in the open spaces of their doors and windows; but this effort availed nothing to many, for the houses falling flat, buried them under the stones and timbers. Others sought to take refuge in the churches; but as many of these had fallen, and others were in a dangerous condition, they could not find a refuge there. Accordingly, all who could directed their flight to the plazas, and, the gates of the city being at once opened, they fled to the beach and the fields, where they whom the earth cast out might look toward the heavens. Charity animated by religious zeal was at once displayed by the prebends, canons, and members of the [cathedral] chapter, and, following their example, by all the clergy; and by the religious of the four orders--Augustinians, Dominicans, Franciscans (those of the Society of Jesus), and the Augustinian Recollects--who flourish in these islands in holiness and in zeal for the saving of souls. All, vying with each other in good works, went about amid the greatest danger, risking their lives in the ruins of the fallen houses, which were left broken and torn apart from each other, to disinter the dead, and to save the lives of those who were holding off death for a little time or lengthening their span of life in the clear space made by some timbers--which now were their defense, but soon would be the coffin or tomb of the very bodies which before they protected. Had this religious solicitude been wanting, the injured would also have failed to receive the last absolution, the remedy for the greatest sinners, since contrition is so uncertain, and in such dangers so difficult. While engaged in this labor the religious experienced no little pain, although mingled with consolation, in hearing from the ruins voices entreating them to hear confessions. The sufferers were consoled by the religious, who exhorted them to [show their] sorrow for their sins by fervent acts of contrition; for these absolution was given to them, as is done on the battle-field or in a storm at sea. Thus all the religious incurred so great danger that no one felt himself secure; for the shocks did not cease, although they were less severe than at first. They were accompanied by so loud a crash that its noise could be heard, even before the quaking of the earth, far away--as when, in Spain, there is a hail-storm.