Selected American history

CHAPTER XXVII.

The Terrible Eruption of Krakatoa.

The most destructive volcanic explosion of recent times, one perhaps unequalled in violence in all times, was that of the small mountain island of Krakatoa, in the East Indian Archipelago, in 1883. This made its effects felt round the entire globe, and excited such wide attention that we feel called upon to give it a chapter of its own.

The island of Krakatoa lies in the Straits of Sunda, between Java and Sumatra. In size it is insignificant, and had been silent so long that its volcanic character was almost lost sight of. Of its early history we know nothing. At some remote time in the past it may have appeared as a large cone, of some twenty-five miles in circumference at base and not less than 10,000 feet high. Then, still in unknown times, its cone was blown away by internal forces, leaving only a shattered and irregular crater ring. This crater was two or three miles in diameter, while the highest part of its walls rose only a few hundred feet above the sea. Later volcanic work built up a number of small cones within the crater, and still later a new cone, called Rakata, rose on the edge of the old one to a height of 2,623 feet.

The first known event in the history of the island volcano was an eruption in the year 1680. After that it lay in repose, forming a group of islands, one much larger than the others. Some of the smaller islands indicated the rim of the old crater, much of which was buried under the sea. Its state of quiescence continued for two centuries, a tropical vegetation richly mantled the island, and to all appearance it had sunk permanently to rest.

Indications of a coming change appeared in 1880, in the form of earthquakes, which shook all the region around. These continued at intervals for more that two years. Then, on May 20, 1883, there were heard at Batavia, a hundred miles away, "booming sounds like the firing of artillery." Next day the captain of a vessel passing through the Straits saw that Krakatoa was in eruption, sending up clouds of smoke and showers of dust and pumice. The smoke was estimated to reach a height of seven miles, while the volcanic dust drifted to localities 300 miles away.

The mountain continued to play for about fourteen weeks with varying activity, several parties meanwhile visiting it and making observations. Such an eruption, in ordinary cases, would have ultimately died away, with no marked change other than perhaps the ejection of a stream of lava. But such was not now the case. The sequel was at once unexpected and terrible. As the island was uninhabited, no one actually saw what took place, those nearest to the scene of the eruption having enough to do to save their own lives, while the dense clouds of vapor and dust baffled observation.

The phase of greatest violence set in on Sunday, August 26th. Soon after midday sailors on passing ships saw that the island had vanished behind a dense cloud of black vapor, the height of which was estimated at not less than seventeen miles. At intervals frightful detonations resounded, and after a time a rain of pumice began to fall at places ten miles distant. For miles round fierce flashes of lightning rent the vapor, and at a distance of fully forty miles ghostly corposants gleamed on the rigging of a vessel.

These phenomena grew more and more alarming until August 27th, when four explosions of fearful intensity shook earth and sea and air, the third being "far the most violent and productive of the most widespread results." It was, in fact, perhaps the most tremendous volcanic outburst, in its intensity, known in human history. It seemed to overcome the obstruction to the energy of the internal forces, for the eruption now declined, and in a day or two practically died away, though one or two comparatively insignificant outbursts took place later.

The eruption spread ruin and death over many surrounding leagues. At Krakotoa itself, when men once more reached its shores, everything was found to be changed. About two-thirds of the main island were blown completely away. The marginal cone was cut nearly in half vertically, the new cliff falling precipitously toward the centre of the crater. Where land had been before now sea existed, in some places more than one hundred feet deep. But the part of the island that remained had been somewhat increased in size by ejected materials.

Of the other islands and islets some had disappeared; some were partially destroyed; some were enlarged by fallen debris, while many changes had taken place in the depth of the neighboring sea-bed. Two new islands, Steers and Calmeyer, were formed. The ejected pumice, so cavernous in structure as to float upon the water, at places formed great floating islands which covered the sea for miles, and sometimes rose from four to seven feet above it, proving a serious obstacle to navigation. On vessels near by dust fell to the depth of eighteen inches. The enormous clouds of volcanic dust which had been flung high into the air darkened the sky for a great area around. At Batavia, about a hundred miles from the volcano, it produced an effect not unlike that of a London fog. This began about seven in the morning of August 27th. Soon after ten the light had become lurid and yellow, and lamps were required in the houses; then came a downfall of rain, mingled with dust, and by about half-past eleven the town was in complete darkness. It soon after began to lighten, and the rain to diminish, and about three o'clock it had ceased.

At Buitenzorg, twenty miles further away, the conditions were similar, but lasted for a shorter time. In places much farther away the upper sky presented a strangely murky aspect, and the sun assumed a green color. Phenomena of this kind were traced over a broad area of the globe, even as far as the Hawaiian Islands, while over a yet wider area the sky after sunset was lit up by after-glows of extraordinary beauty. The height to which the dust was projected has been calculated from various data, with the result that 121,500 feet, or nearly 25 miles, is thought to be a probable maximum estimate, though it may be that occasional fragments of larger size were shot up to a still greater height.

Another effect, of a distressing character, followed the eruption. A succession of enormous waves, emanating from Krakatoa, traversed the sea, and swept the coast bordering the Straits of Sunda with such force as to destroy many villages on the low-lying shores in Java, Sumatra and other islands. Some buildings at a height of fifty feet above sea-level were washed away, and in some places the water rose higher, in one place reaching the height of 115 feet. At Telok Betong, in Sumatra, a ship was carried inland a distance of nearly two miles, and left stranded at a height of thirty feet above the sea.

The eruption of Krakatoa seems to have been due to some deep-lying causes of extraordinary violence, this appearing not only in the terrible explosion which tore the island to fragments and sent its remnants as floating dust many miles high into the air, but also from an internal convulsion that affected many of the volcanoes of Java, which almost simultaneously broke into violent eruption. We extract from Dr. Robert Bonney's "Our Earth and its Story" a description of these closely-related events.

"The disturbances originated on the island of Krakatoa, with eruptions of red hot stones and ashes, and by noon next day Semeru, the largest of the Javanese volcanoes, was reported to be belching forth flames at an alarming rate. The eruption soon spread to Gunung Guntur and other mountains, until more than a third of the forty-five craters of Java were either in activity or seriously threatening it.

"Just before dusk a great cloud hung over Gunung Guntur, and the crater of the volcano began to emit enormous streams of white sulphurous mud and lava, which were rapidly succeeded by explosions, followed by tremendous showers of cinders and enormous fragments of rock, which were hurled high into the air and scattered in all directions, carrying death and destruction with them. The overhanging clouds were, moreover, so charged with electricity that water-spouts added to the horror of the scene. The eruption continued all Saturday night, and next day a dense cloud, shot with lurid red, gathered over the Kedang range, intimating that an eruption had broken out there.

"This proved to be the case, for soon after streams of lava poured down the mountain sides into the valleys, sweeping everything before them. About two o'clock on Monday morning—we are drawing on the account of an eye-witness—the great cloud suddenly broke into small sections and vanished. When light came it was seen that an enormous tract of land, extending from Point Capucin on the south, and Negery Passoerang on the north and west, to the lowest point, covering about fifty square miles, had been temporarily submerged by the 'tidal wave.' Here were situated the villages of Negery and Negery Babawang. Few of the inhabitants of these places escaped death. This section of the island was less densely populated than the other portions, and the loss of life was comparatively small, although it must have aggregated several thousands. The waters of Welcome Bay in the Sunda Straits, Pepper Bay on the east, and the Indian Ocean on the south, had rushed in and formed a sea of turbulent waves.

"On Monday night the volcano of Papandayang was in an active state of paroxysmal eruption, accompanied by detonations which are said to have been heard for many miles away. In Sumatra three distinct columns of flame were seen to rise from a mountain to a vast height, and its whole surface was soon covered with fiery lava streams, which spread to great distances on all sides. Stones fell for miles around, and black fragmentary matter carried into the air caused total darkness. A whirlwind accompanied the eruption, by which house-roofs, trees, men, and horses were swept into the air. The quantity of matter ejected was such as to cover the ground and the roofs of the houses at Denamo to the depth of several inches. Suddenly the scene changed. At first it was reported that Papandayang had been split into seven distinct peaks. This proved untrue; but in the open seams formed could be seen great balls of molten matter. From the fissures poured forth clouds of steam and black lava, which, flowing in steady streams, ran slowly down the mountain sides, forming beds 200 or 300 feet in extent. At the entrance to Batavia was a large group of houses extending along the shore, and occupied by Chinamen. This portion of the city was entirely destroyed, and not many of the Chinese who lived on the swampy plains managed to save their lives. They stuck to their homes till the waves came and washed them away, fearing torrents of flame and lava more than torrents of water.

"Of the 3,500 Europeans and Americans in Batavia—which for several hours was in darkness, owing to the fall of ashes—800 perished at Anjer. The European and American quarter was first overwhelmed by rocks, mud and lava from the crater, and then the waters came up and swallowed the ruins, leaving nothing to mark the site, and causing the loss of about 200 lives of the inhabitants and those who sought refuge there."

The loss of life above mentioned was but a small fraction of the total loss. All along the coasts of the adjoining large islands towns and villages were swept away and their inhabitants drowned, till the total loss was, as nearly as could be estimated, 36,000 souls. Krakatoa thus surpassed Mont Pelee in its tale of destruction. These two, indeed, have been the most destructive to life of known volcanic explosions, since the volcano usually falls far short of the earthquake in its murderous results.

The distant effects of this explosion were as remarkable as the near ones. The concussion of the air reached to an unprecedented distance and the clouds of floating dust encircled the earth, producing striking phenomena of which an account is given at the end of this chapter.

The rapidity with which the effects of the Krakatoa eruption made themselves evident in all parts of the earth is perhaps the most remarkable outcome of this extraordinary event. The floating pumice reached the harbor of St. Paul on the 22nd of March, 1884, after having made a voyage of some two hundred and sixty days at a rate of six-tenths of a mile an hour. Immense quantities of pumice of a similar description, and believed to have been derived from the same source, reached Tamatave in Madagascar five months later, and no doubt much of it long continued to float round the world.

Another result of the eruption was the series of atmospheric waves, caused by the disturbance in the atmosphere, which affected the barometer over the entire world. The velocity with which these waves traveled has been variously estimated at from 912.09 feet to 1066.29 feet per second. This speed is, of course, very much inferior to that at which sound travels through the air. Yet, in three distinct cases, the noise of the Krakatoa explosions was plainly heard at a distance of at least 2,200 miles, and in one instance—that recorded from Rodriguez—of nearly 3,000. The sound travelled to Ceylon, Burmah, Manila, New Guinea and Western Australia, places, however, within a radius of about 2,000 miles; out Diego Garcia lies outside that area, and Rodriguez a thousand miles beyond it. Six days subsequent to the explosion, after the atmospheric waves had traveled four times round the globe, the barometer was still affected by them.

Another result, similar in kind, was the extraordinary dissemination of the great ocean wave, which in a like manner seems to have encircled the earth, since high waves, without evident cause, appeared not only in the Pacific, but at many places on the Atlantic coast within a few days after the event. They were observed alike in England and at New York. The writer happened to be at Atlantic City, on the New Jersey coast, at this time. It was a period of calm, the winds being at rest, but, unheralded, there came in an ocean wave of such height as to sweep away the ocean-front boardwalk and do much other damage. He ascribed this strange wave at the time to the Krakatoa explosion, and is of the same opinion still.

In addition to the account given of this extraordinary volcanic event, it seems desirable to give Sir Robert S. Ball's description of it in his recent work, "The Earth's Beginnings." While repeating to some extent what we have already said, it is worthy, from its freshness of description and general readability, of a place here.

"Until the year 1883 few had ever heard of Krakatoa. It was unknown to fame, as are hundreds of other gems of glorious vegetation set in tropical waters. It was not inhabited, but the natives from the surrounding shores of Sumatra and Java used occasionally to draw their canoes up on its beach, while they roamed through the jungle in search of the wild fruits that there abounded. It was known to the mariner who navigated the Straits of Sunda, for it was marked on his charts as one of the perils of the intricate navigation in those waters. It was no doubt recorded that the locality had been once, or more than once, the seat of an active volcano. In fact, the island seemed to owe its existence to some frightful eruption of by-gone days; but for a couple of centuries there had been no fresh outbreak. It almost seemed as if Krakatoa might be regarded as a volcano that had become extinct. In this respect it would only be like many other similar objects all over the globe, or like the countless extinct volcanoes all over the moon.

"As the summer of 1883 advanced the vigor of Krakatoa, which had sprung into notoriety at the beginning of the year, steadily increased and the noises became more and more vehement; these were presently audible on shores ten miles distant, and then twenty miles distant; and still those noises waxed louder and louder, until the great thunders of the volcano, now so rapidly developing, astonished the inhabitants that dwelt over an area at least as large as Great Britain. And there were other symptoms of the approaching catastrophe. With each successive convulsion a quantity of fine dust was projected aloft into the clouds. The wind could not carry this dust away as rapidly as it was hurled upward by Krakatoa, and accordingly the atmosphere became heavily charged with suspended particles.

"A pall of darkness thus hung over the adjoining seas and islands. Such was the thickness and density of these atmospheric volumes of Krakatoa dust that, for a hundred miles around, the darkness of midnight prevailed at midday. Then the awful tragedy of Krakatoa took place. Many thousands of the unfortunate inhabitants of the adjacent shores of Sumatra and Java were destined never to behold the sun again. They were presently swept away to destruction in an invasion of the shore by the tremendous waves with which the seas surrounding Krakatoa were agitated.

"As the days of August passed by the spasms of Krakatoa waxed more and more vehement. By the middle of that month the panic was widespread, for the supreme catastrophe was at hand. On the night of Sunday, August 26, 1883, the blackness of the dust-clouds, now much thicker than ever in the Straits of Sunda and adjacent parts of Sumatra and Java, was only occasionally illumined by lurid flashes from the volcano.

"At the town of Batavia, a hundred miles distant, there was no quiet that night. The houses trembled with subterranean violence, and the windows rattled as if heavy artillery were being discharged in the streets. And still these efforts seemed to be only rehearsing for the supreme display. By ten o'clock on the morning of Monday, August 27, 1883, the rehearsals were over, and the performance began. An overture, consisting of two or three introductory explosions, was succeeded by a frightful convulsion which tore away a large part of the island of Krakatoa and scattered it to the winds of heaven. In that final outburst all records of previous explosions on this earth were completely broken.

"This supreme effort it was which produced the mightiest noise that, so far as we can ascertain, has ever been heard on this globe. It must have been indeed a loud noise which could travel from Krakatoa to Batavia and preserve its vehemence over so great a distance; but we should form a very inadequate conception of the energy of the eruption of Krakatoa if we thought that its sounds were heard by those merely a hundred miles off. This would be little indeed compared with what is recorded on testimony which it is impossible to doubt.

"Westward from Krakatoa stretches the wide expanse of the Indian Ocean. On the opposite side from the Straits of Sunda lies the island of Rodriguez, the distance from Krakatoa being almost three thousand miles. It has been proved by evidence which cannot be doubted that the thunders of the great volcano attracted the attention of an intelligent coast-guard on Rodriguez, who carefully noted the character of the sounds and the time of their occurrence. He had heard them just four hours after the actual explosion, for this is the time the sound occupied on its journey.

"This mighty incident at Krakatoa has taught us other lessons on the constitution of our atmosphere. We previously knew little, or I might say almost nothing, as to the conditions prevailing above the height of ten miles overhead. It was Krakatoa which first gave us a little information which was greatly wanted. How could we learn what winds were blowing at a height four times as great as the loftiest mountain on the earth, and twice as great as the loftiest altitude to which a balloon has ever soared? No doubt a straw will show which way the wind blows, but there are no straws up there. There was nothing to render the winds perceptible until Krakatoa came to our aid. Krakatoa drove into those winds prodigious quantities of dust. Hundreds of cubic miles of air were thus deprived of that invisibility which they had hitherto maintained.

"With eyes full of astonishment men watched those vast volumes of Krakatoa dust on a tremendous journey. Of course, every one knows the so-called trade-winds on our earth's surface, which blow steadily in fixed directions, and which are of such service to the mariner. But there is yet another constant wind. It was first disclosed by Krakatoa. Before the occurrence of that eruption, no one had the slightest suspicion that far up aloft, twenty miles over our heads, a mighty tempest is incessantly hurrying, with a speed much greater than that of the awful hurricane which once laid so large a part of Calcutta on the ground and slew so many of its inhabitants. Fortunately for humanity, this new trade-wind does not come within less than twenty miles of the earth's surface. We are thus preserved from the fearful destruction that its unintermittent blasts would produce, blasts against which no tree could stand and which would, in ten minutes, do as much damage to a city as would the most violent earthquake. When this great wind had become charged with the dust of Krakatoa, then, for the first, and, I may add, for the only time, it stood revealed to human vision. Then it was seen that this wind circled round the earth in the vicinity of the equator, and completed its circuit in about thirteen days.

A VAST CLOUD Of DUST

"The dust manufactured by the supreme convulsion was whirled round the earth in the mighty atmospheric current into which the volcano discharged it. As the dust-cloud was swept along by this incomparable hurricane it showed its presence in the most glorious manner by decking the sun and the moon in hues of unaccustomed splendor and beauty. The blue color in the sky under ordinary circumstances is due to particles in the air, and when the ordinary motes of the sunbeam were reinforced by the introduction of the myriads of motes produced by Krakatoa even the sun itself sometimes showed a blue tint. Thus the progress of the great dust-cloud was traced out by the extraordinary sky effects it produced, and from the progress of the dust-cloud we inferred the movements of the invisible air current which carried it along. Nor need it be thought that the quantity of material projected from Krakatoa should have been inadequate to produce effects of this world-wide description. Imagine that the material which was blown to the winds of heaven by the supreme convulsion of Krakatoa could be all recovered and swept into one vast heap. Imagine that the heap were to have its bulk measured by a vessel consisting of a cube one mile long, one mile broad and one mile deep; it has been estimated that even this prodigious vessel would have to be filled to the brim at least ten times before all the products of Krakatoa had been measured."

It is not specially to the quantity of material ejected from Krakatoa that it owes its reputation. Great as it was, it has been much surpassed. Professor Judd says that the great eruptions of Papapandayang, in Java, in 1772, of Skaptur Jokull, in Iceland, in 1783, and of Tamboro, in Sumbawa, in 1815, were marked by the extrusion of much larger quantities of material. The special feature of the Krakatoa eruption was its extreme violence, which flung volcanic dust to a height probably never before attained, and produced sea and air waves of an intensity unparalleled in the records of volcanic action. Judd thinks this was due to the situation of the crater, and the possible inflow through fissures of a great volume of sea water to the interior lava, the result being the sudden production of an enormous volume of steam.

The red sunsets spoken of above were so extraordinary in character that a fuller description of them seems advisable. A remarkable fact concerning them is the great rapidity with which they were disseminated to distant regions of the earth. They appeared around the entire equatorial zone in a few days after the eruption, this doubtless being due to the great rapidity with which the volcanic dust was carried by the upper air current. They were seen at Rodriguez, 3,000 miles away, on August 28, and within a week in every part of the torrid zone. From this zone they spread north and south with less rapidity. Their first appearance in Australia was on September 15th, and at the Cape of Good Hope on the 20th. On the latter day they were observed in California and the Southern United States. They were first seen in England on November 9th. Elsewhere in Europe and the United States they appeared from November 20th to 30th.

The effect lasted in some instances as long as an hour and three-quarters after sunset. In India the sun and skies assumed a greenish hue, and there was much curiosity regarding the cause of the "green sun." Another remarkable phenomenon of this period was the great prevalence of rain during the succeeding winter. This probably was due to the same cause; that is, to the fact of the air being so filled with dust; the prevailing theory in regard to rain being that the existence of dust in the air is necessary to its fall. The vapor of the air concentrates into drops around such minute particles, the result being that where dust is absent rain cannot fall.

As regards the sunsets spoken of, there are three similar instances on record. The first of these was in the year 526, when a dry fog covered the Roman Empire with a red haze. Nothing further is known concerning it. The other instances were in the years 1783 and 1831. The former of these has been traced to the great eruption of Skaptur Jokull in that year. It lasted for several months as a pale blue haze, and occasioned so much obscurity that the sun was only visible when twelve degrees above the horizon, and then it had a blood-red appearance. Violent thunderstorms were associated with it, thus assimilating it with that of 1883. Alike in 1783 and 1831 there was a pearly, phosphorescent gleam in the atmosphere, by which small print could be read at midnight. We know nothing regarding the meteorological conditions of 1831.

The red sunsets of 1883 were remarkable for their long persistence. They were observed in the autumn of 1884 with almost their original brilliancy, and they were still visible in 1885, being seen at intervals, as if the dust was then distributed in patches, and driven about by the winds. In fact, similar sunsets were occasionally visible for several years afterwards. These may well have been due to the same cause, when we consider with what extreme slowness very fine dust makes its way through the air, and how much it may be affected by the winds.

One writer describes the appearance of these sunsets in the following terms: "Immediately after sunset a patch of white light appeared ten or fifteen degrees above the horizon, and shone for ten minutes with a pearly lustre. Beneath it a layer of bright red rested on the horizon, melting upward into orange, and this passed into yellow light, which spread around the lucid spot. Next the white light grew of a rosy tint, and soon became an intense rose hue. A vivid golden oriole yellow strip divided it from the red fringe below and the rose red above." This description, although exaggerated, represents the general conditions of the phenomenon.

On October 20th, 1884, the author observed the sunset effect as follows: "Immediately after the sun had set, a broad cone of silvery lustre rested upon a horizon of smoky pink. After fifteen minutes the white became rose color above and yellowish below, deepening to lemon color, and finally into reddish tint, while the rose faded out. The whole cone gradually sank and died away in the brownish red flush on the horizon, more than an hour after sunset." The time of duration varied, since, on the succeeding evening, it lasted only a half-hour. These sunset effects, if we can justly attribute them all to the Krakatoa eruption, were extraordinary not alone for their intensity and beauty but for their extended duration, the influence of this remarkable volcanic outbreak being visible for several years after the event.

Though no doubt is entertained concerning the cause of the red sunset effects of 1783 and 1883, that of 1831 is not so readily explained, there having been no known volcanic explosion of great intensity in that year. But in view of the fact that volcanoes exist in unvisited parts of the earth, some of which may have been at work unknown to scientific man, this difficulty is not insuperable. Possibly Mounts Erebus or Terror, the burning mountains of the Antarctic zone, may, unseen by man, have prepared for civilized lands this grand spectacular effect of Nature's doings.