We entered the harbour of Concepcion. While the ship was beating up
to the anchorage, I landed on the island of Quiriquina. The
mayor-domo of the estate quickly rode down to tell me the terrible
news of the great earthquake of the 20th:--"That not a house in
Concepcion or Talcahuano (the port) was standing; that seventy
villages were destroyed; and that a great wave had almost washed
away the ruins of Talcahuano." Of this latter statement I soon saw
abundant proofs--the whole coast being strewed over with timber and
furniture as if a thousand ships had been wrecked. Besides chairs,
tables, book-shelves, etc., in great numbers, there were several
roofs of cottages, which had been transported almost whole. The
storehouses at Talcahuano had been burst open, and great bags of
cotton, yerba, and other valuable merchandise were scattered on the
shore. During my walk round the island, I observed that numerous
fragments of rock, which, from the marine productions adhering to
them, must recently have been lying in deep water, had been cast up
high on the beach; one of these was six feet long, three broad, and
two thick.
The island itself as plainly showed the overwhelming power of the
earthquake, as the beach did that of the consequent great wave.
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