The Prime Minister Part 26

Though so many examples were before his eyes, he imagined not the fate which might be theirs. Onward he bore her, by the way he had come, along the broad corridor. For some time his course was unimpeded, till, at length, a vast chasm yawned before him: the whole wall had fallen down, crus.h.i.+ng all beneath it. Once more he turned, with his precious burden, still unconscious, in his arms: more than human strength and energy seemed afforded him. Another corridor presented itself, the floor yet affording a pa.s.sage, though crowded with fragments of the roof. As he flew along it, he observed a stair on one side: that might lead to some egress. He descended rapidly, though scarce a gleam of light was there to guide his steps. When he reached the bottom, he found a pa.s.sage, narrow and vaulted, leading off on each side. He took that to the left, where the light appeared; but, as he approached it, a strongly-barred window was seen. Near him, a door was left open, at the top of a second narrow and winding stair. Whither that would lead there was no time to consider; but retreat was hopeless by the way he had come, and his only hope of saving the life of the dear being he bore was in onward progress. He descended the steps: to what secret chambers had they conducted him? Another door was before him--it gave way to his touch, and he found that they had reached a low, narrow, and vaulted pa.s.sage. That it led to the open air he felt a.s.sured, from the greater degree of light before him; but the dust prevented his seeing many feet beyond where they were. He hastened on, when again a terrific sound was heard, like the loud echoes of cannon in a mountain gorge--the earth shook beneath his feet--a stunning crash was more felt than heard, as if the globe had been hurled in contact with another body--the strong walls on each side seemed giving way--huge ma.s.ses of the building, falling on all sides, blocked up all egress in front,--behind, all was darkness!

Nature could endure no more: his legs refused to support him, and he sank with his precious burden to the ground; yet consciousness did not forsake him, and he preserved her from injury, bending over her yet inanimate form, that he might s.h.i.+eld her to the last, and that his head should be the first to receive the blow which he felt a.s.sured must fall.

The second violent shock was over, yet crash after crash continued to be heard, as each ma.s.sive wall and lofty tower, which man in his pride had fancied would last for ever, were overturned like pasteboard fabrics raised by childhood's hands. A third time was the loud thunder beneath the earth heard--the ground shook, and the few remaining walls of the convent were cast down, and that vast fabric, which, a few minutes before, had stood firm and entire, was now one shapeless ma.s.s of ruins, with hundreds of human beings buried beneath it. The anguish of death came over Luis: Clara--his own Clara, lay, without breathing, in his arms. Her pulse had ceased to beat, animation had fled, and he welcomed destruction as a boon from Heaven. Each instant the end of all things seemed about to arrive; the shrieks of despair, which had before wrung on his ears, were hushed; the thundering crashes of the falling buildings were no longer heard; and the more terror-inspiring muttered roar beneath the earth had ceased; but foul exhalations arose, and poisoned the air, already filled with suffocating dust; and darkness, impenetrable and oppressive, surrounded the lovers.

Volume 2, Chapter X.

Were we to indulge, while describing scenes like the present, in the light jest, or stroke of satire, we should deem ourselves equally capable of laughing at the anguish and wretchedness to which, in our course through life, we have too frequently been witness; our readers must, therefore, pardon us, if, on this occasion, contrary to their wish, we lay aside that inclination we have hitherto experienced, to satirise the follies and wickedness of our fellow-men. It will be our duty to revert to the events which occurred to the princ.i.p.al personages mentioned in this history.

We left the bridal party at the palace of the Marquis d'Alorna. They were a.s.sembled in a handsome saloon, which looked towards the street, while all were paying their compliments to the lovely Donna Theresa, and their congratulations to the young marquis, on his happiness at possessing so fair a bride, when a train of carriages was heard pa.s.sing.

"It is the King and the royal family, on their road to Belem," said the Conde d'Atouquia. "They were to go there this morning."

"I would they were never to return!" muttered the Duke of Aveiro. "It would be no great loss to us."

"Hus.h.!.+ duke," said the Count, who had just sufficient sense to know that silence will often stand in the place of wisdom. "All here know not their own interests. 'Twill be better not to speak on that subject awhile."

When the lovely bride heard the King mentioned, a pallor overspread her countenance.

"Are you ill, my Theresa," inquired her young husband, affectionately.

"Oh no, 'twas a sudden pain, but I am well again," she answered, recovering, and endeavouring to smile. She could not say it was the dreadful struggle between conscience and inclination which agitated her.

The guests had just taken their seats at a sumptuous breakfast, prepared for the occasion, the bridegroom being placed at the head of the table, when that strange sound of chariot-wheels was heard.

"'Tis the King, for some cause, returning home again," exclaimed one.

("'Tis the King of Terrors, riding on the whirlwind of destruction," he might, more properly, have said.)

"No, 'tis a sudden blast, or the roaring of the breakers against the rocks of St. Julian," answered another.

"Mother of Heaven! see, the gla.s.ses tremble!" cried several.

At that moment the noise increased. "An earthquake! an earthquake!"

shrieked the guests, rus.h.i.+ng from their seats towards the window.

The building shook, but scarce a stone fell. "'Twill be over soon,"

exclaimed the Marquis of Tavora, preserving his presence of mind.

"There is more danger in the street than here."

The wildest dismay was visible in the countenances of all, yet none sought to fly, but rushed together towards the recesses of the windows, fancying that numbers might cause security.

"Fear not, my friends," said the Marquis d'Alorna, "this palace is strong, and has resisted many an earthquake. It will alone affect the fragile houses of the plebeians. See! numbers are already in ruins; what clouds of dust rise from them! The shock has pa.s.sed, and we are safe!"

Scarcely had he uttered the words, when again that sullen roaring beneath the earth was heard. There was no time for flight, they stood paralysed with horror. Donna Theresa showed the fewest signs of fear, as she gazed forth on the city, great part of which lay spread at their feet: she sought not for support, while the other ladies present clung to the arms of those nearest them, except the elder Marchioness of Tavora, who, drawing forth a crucifix from her bosom, called on all around her to pray to the holy Virgin for safety; but, during those moments, the only words any could utter were, "Misericordia!

misericordia!"

The wildest cries of agony and fear arose from below, where row beyond row of the thickly crowded streets swayed backwards and forwards, like the agitated waves of the ocean, when the first blast of the hurricane is felt; while the thick clouds of dust which ascended from the falling ma.s.ses seemed like the foam flying before the tempest.

A strong wind now blew with terrific violence, and, as here and there a view could be obtained of the city, one scene of havoc and destruction presented itself: not a church, or convent, scarce a house, was standing below them, except in the immediate neighbourhood, on the side of the hill; and many of the houses even there were tottering to their base, the people hurrying through the streets, they knew not whither, seeking for safety, and often hurrying to destruction. Numbers had fled to a broad quay, newly built of solid marble, where they deemed themselves in perfect safety; when, as if by magic, it suddenly sank, the water rus.h.i.+ng into the vast chasm it had formed, drawing within its vortex, like a whirlpool, numbers of boats and small vessels, crowded with unfortunate wretches, who fancied that it was from the earth alone they had cause to fear. Directly after this dreadful catastrophe had occurred, a vast wave was seen rising on the river, hitherto so calm and s.h.i.+ning, and rus.h.i.+ng with impetuous force towards the devoted city. The vessels were torn from their moorings, and hurled one against the other.

On came the mountain-billow, breaking over the lower part of the city, and sweeping off thousands who had fled to the remaining quays for safety, returning once more to throw back its prey of mangled corpses, amid broken planks and rafters of the ruined houses.

In silent dismay, the festal party stood yet free themselves from harm, though they beheld some of the domestics, who, being on the ground-floor, had rushed from the palace down the street in front, crushed beneath the houses, which fell as they attempted to proceed.

The Marquis d'Alorna urged his friends to remain, for several had determined to attempt to escape from the city, the whole of which they expected every instant to behold overwhelmed, when, seeing the fate of their servants, they yielded to his persuasions. Scarcely had they returned to the window, when, with the same dreadful omens, a third shock was felt, though by them but slightly; and, as if struck by a magician's wand, every remaining wall and tower in the vast arena below, which had before escaped, was thrown prostrate, the waves again returning, and rus.h.i.+ng high over the ruins, quickly flowing back to their proper boundaries; but not a minute intervened before another mighty billow followed, and another, and another, until every one felt persuaded the city must be submerged.

The mighty throes of nature appeared at length calmed--the roaring noise had ceased; but the wailing of the bereaved inhabitants, and the shrieks and groans of the dying, filled the air. Two elements had already conspired to the destruction of that once opulent and crowded city; but even yet the spirit of destruction was not satisfied, and scarcely had the survivors begun to recover from their first unnerving panic, when a new foe appeared, and flames rose from every fallen shrine and monastery, and from many of the houses yet standing. So paralysed had become the energies of all, that no one attempted to stop the rapid progress of the devouring element. It at first commenced in different spots, like so many watch-fires lighted by an army encamped on the plain, but, by degrees, it extended on every side, till the greater part of the city was enveloped in one vast conflagration.

"Whither can we fly for safety?" cried several of the party, gazing at each other with horror on their countenances. "At all events, let us quit this devoted city," all exclaimed. "But is there a road yet left free?" asked some.

"We must not remain here to be burned alive, having escaped the other dangers," said the young Marquis of Tavora. "My Theresa, I swear to bear you safe, or die with you." The bride hesitated, but her husband insisted on supporting her. "Now, senh.o.r.es, I will set the example, if you will follow; and we may find some of our country-houses uninjured."

His opinion was considered the best to follow by the majority.

"I will order my horses and carriage from my palace," said the Duke of Aveiro; but, when he looked towards his palace, he beheld it one heap of ruins: the proud residence of the Tavoras had shared the same fate, as had those of many other persons present.

The palace of the King, which he and all the royal family had, a few minutes before, so providentially quitted, was overwhelmed in the common destruction; and the Opera-house, a solid and magnificent building, a short time before only finished, had shared the same fate, the side walls remaining alone standing. But this was no time for vain regrets: self-preservation was the first thought of all. The advice of the young marquis was followed, and each of the gentlemen aiding in supporting the ladies, they issued forth from the palace, already deserted by the greater number of the servants, the remainder following them, without leaving one to protect the rich and costly furniture, or even thinking of closing the doors behind them.

The party proceeded onward, keeping as much as possible the higher ground, which had escaped the convulsions which shook the valleys, expecting every moment some fresh outbreak. They had not gone far, when they encountered a fierce-looking band of the vilest rabble of the city, who eyed the rich dresses and the glittering jewels of the ladies, as if longing to possess themselves of them, and stopping, attempted to surround the party, with threatening gestures; but the fidalgos, drawing their swords, cleared a pa.s.sage through them, receiving only loud jeers and curses as they pa.s.sed onward. In one place they were obliged to descend the hill for some short distance, where the road was blocked up by the fallen houses, which, as the only course left to them, they must surmount. The scenes which met the eye, it were scarcely possible for ordinary language to describe; men, women, and children, lay, dead or dying, crushed and mangled in every way it were possible to conceive; some of the latter yet crying out, but in vain, for a.s.sistance:--their lot might be that of all the party, if they stayed. The only one of the proud fidalgos who really felt for their sufferings, was the young Joze da Tavora, and he vowed to return and aid them, if possible, when he had conducted his sisters and the rest of his family to a place of safety.

After great labour, they escaped clear of the ruins, and reached some of the highest ground, from whence they could look back on the hapless city. Far as the eye could reach on each side, extending along the banks of the river, was one universal scene of destruction. The greater number of the superb and beautiful churches, the richly endowed monasteries, the public buildings, the palaces, and the dwelling-houses, had, in the course of a few minutes, been either levelled with the ground, or their skeleton walls alone left standing, burying beneath their ruins, as was afterwards ascertained, twenty thousand of the inhabitants. In every direction, also, bright flames arose, wreathing themselves round many buildings which had withstood the shocks; thick clouds of smoke, like twisting pillars, ascending to support the dark canopy which overhung the fatal spot. The river itself presented an almost equally forlorn spectacle; s.h.i.+ps were driven wildly in all directions, some das.h.i.+ng against each other, and their crews unable to separate them; others had been dashed to pieces on the opposite sh.o.r.e; some had sunk, some had been carried far up the banks, and were now left dry among the ruined buildings, while the water was covered with wrecks of vessels, beams of timber, and floating bodies. Boats, too, of all shapes and sizes, were floating about, many having been turned keel uppermost by the vast waves. A large concourse of the houseless wretches, whom the catastrophe had driven forth, were now collected on the brow of the hill, bewailing, with groans and tears, their wretched fate: their whole property destroyed, many half clothed, and without a farthing left to purchase the necessaries of life, even if they were to be found; but where was food to be procured for that mult.i.tude?

Thousands must perish of starvation before it could be distributed.

As the bridal party, after resting from their fatigues on the brow of the hill, were about to proceed to the Quinta belonging to one of their number, where they purposed erecting tents in the open ground, several hors.e.m.e.n were seen approaching. The crowd made way for them; for among the foremost rode the King, and by his side was the towering form of his Minister, Carvalho. No sooner did the former behold Donna Theresa, than his eye lighted up with satisfaction, and, for the moment, forgetful of his city destroyed, and the wretchedness of his people, he threw himself from his horse, which an attendant held, and advanced towards her.

While he congratulated her, and those around, on having escaped from destruction, and her husband on his happiness, the Minister, who had also dismounted, stood impatiently by. At last the King recollected himself, and advanced to the brow of the hill. He started back at the view he beheld: he wrung his hands with despair.

"Alas, alas!" he cried, "my beautiful Lisbon! where art thou? It is hopeless to attempt restoring it. Alas! what shall I do?"

"Bury the dead, and take care of the living," answered the Minister, promptly. "'Tis all that can be done."

"Carvalho, you are truly fit to govern my people," exclaimed the King, embracing him.

"Will your Majesty give me full powers to act as I judge fit, without let or hindrance of any sort, and I will undertake to restore order, to supply food, and to rebuild the city."

"Do all that you will; I place implicit confidence in your judgment, and promise to sanction all the measures you pursue."

"It is all I ask," said Carvalho. "I beg your Majesty will return to Belem, to rest after the fatigues you have undergone, and be a.s.sured I will not fail in my duty."

The King, taking his Minister's advice, rode back to Belem, while Carvalho, throwing himself into his carriage, which had driven up, immediately commenced issuing orders for the regulation of the inhabitants who had been driven from their homes, and, sending messengers in all directions, to desire the farmers at a distance to bring food to the neighbourhood of the city for their use. Every one obeyed him with alacrity; for, on a great emergency, the mob are ever ready to be ruled by any one who can exhibit confidence in himself. But we are forestalling events, and must return to follow the adventures on that dreadful day of several friends in whom we are deeply interested.

Volume 2, Chapter XI.

We left our good friend Captain Pinto, having just parted from Luis, hurrying off on a visit of charity to the stranger Senhor Mendez. He found him, contrary to his expectations, considerably recovered; the slight attack he had suffered on the previous night, which had alarmed his attendant, having pa.s.sed off, though he was still unable to leave his couch. Seating himself by his side, the gallant sailor detailed to him various circ.u.mstances which had happened in the world since he had last seen him, when their conversation turned upon matters of yet greater interest, and so engrossed were they in their subject, that they did not attend to the first dread signals of approaching confusion.

Soon again, the noise grew louder, the house shook, and the upper story, with a loud crash, fell in, destroying several unfortunate beings who were residing there.

"'Tis an earthquake!" exclaimed Captain Pinto. "I thought something was about to happen, though it pa.s.sed my power of calculation to tell what."

"Then fly, my friend, and save yourself," cried Senhor Mendez; "for the whole house must inevitably fall, and will crush you in the ruins."

"I will see what chance there is first of carrying you on my back,"

answered the sailor, coolly walking to the window, and looking into the street, from whence the most piercing shrieks proceeded. "'Twill be wiser to stay where we are; for 'tis raining rather large stones from the house-tops, and numbers of poor wretches, who have fled thither, he crushed beneath them."

"'Tis a great hazard, but much greater is incurred by remaining here; so, I beseech you, fly, and leave me," reiterated Senhor Mendez.