On November 29, from seven o'clock in the evening, the volcano threw up more fire than all put together in the preceding seven months. The burning column seemed to mingle with the clouds; the whole of the island was one ignited mass. A wind blew. And as the priests and the mayor (_Alcalde_) were just remarking that the fire might reach the town, a mass of stones was thrown up with great violence; thunderclaps and subterranean noises were heard; everybody looked aghast, and nearly all knelt to pray. Then the waters of the lake began to encroach upon the houses, and the inhabitants took to flight, the natives carrying away whatever chattels they could. Cries and lamentations were heard all around; mothers were looking for their children in dismay; half-caste women of the Parian were calling for confession, some of them beseechingly falling on their knees in the middle of the streets. The panic was intense, and was in no way lessened by the Chinese, who took to yelling in their own jargonic syllables. After the terrible night of November 29 they thought all was over, when again several columns of smoke appeared, and the priest went off to the Sanctuary of Cagsaysay, where the prior was. Taal was entirely abandoned, the natives having gone in all directions away from the lake. On November 29 and 30 there was complete darkness around the lake vicinity, and when light reappeared a layer of cinders about five inches thick was seen over the lands and houses, and it was still increasing. Total darkness returned, so that one could not distinguish another's face, and all were more horror-stricken than ever. In Cagsaysay the natives climbed on to the housetops and threw down the cinders, which were over-weighting the structures. On November 30 smoke and strange sounds came with greater fury than anything yet experienced, while lightning flashed in the dense obscurity. It seemed as if the end of the world was arriving. When light returned, the destruction was horribly visible; the church roof was dangerously covered with ashes and earth, and the chronicler opines that its not having fallen in might be attributed to a miracle! Then there was a day of comparative quietude, followed by a hurricane which lasted two days. All were in a state of melancholy, which was increased when they received the news that the whole of Taal had collapsed; amongst the ruins being the Government House and Stores, the Prison, State warehouses and the Royal Rope Walk, besides the Church and Convent. The Gov.-General sent food and clothing in a vessel, which was nearly wrecked by storms, whilst the crew pumped and baled out continually to keep her afloat, until at length she broke up on the shoals at the mouth of the Pansipit River. Another craft had her mast split by a flash of lightning, but reached port.