Earthquakes and Tempests in Carlisle

Other than occasionally noting that it had been very wet, very dry, or the warmest summer or the coldest winter within the memory of some of the oldest residents, the newspaper rarely reported on the weather. So violent was a summer storm that occurred in 1789, that a description of it merited two columns in the August 5, 1789 issue of Kline’s Carlisle Gazette.

“On Saturday last between 3 and 4 o’clock P.M., happened the most violent hurricane, tempest, or thunder-storm (for we are at a loss to determine its proper name) that was ever known in this borough or vicinity. We can conceive of nothing except an earthquake that could attend with more alarming circumstances. The cloud from the west, or rather a number of clouds of a most lowering aspect, furiously agitated, broken, and seemingly ready to fall, attracted the attention and prepared the mind in some measure for what was to follow. The lightening appeared, to those who were at a distance, remarkably red, and seemed to flash from cloud to earth and back again in such quick succession for some time as to appear one sheet of flame…A very considerable quantity of hail fell; and the rain was so abundant that it seemed thrown from buckets, and being carried along dashed against every opposing object by a most impetuous wind, darkened the air in such a manner that all surrounding objects seemed lost in the night. The storm threatened to lay the town in ruins…happily however, the damages were much less than apprehended.

The new brick house belonging to Reverend Dr. Davidson, being on an elevated spot near the west end of town, and lying directly in the march of this powerful column, was the first sufferer; all the parts of the building above the square were suddenly borne off, and a great part of the roof was carried over Mr. Patton’s house which stood at a small distance on the east, striking it forcibly and injuring it greatly in its way and fell on an adjoining lot. Mr. Patton’s house is left in much the same condition as the doctors.^[1] After injuring some smaller buildings in its course to westward, [sic] the next elevated object to which it pointed its fury was the Presbyterian Church in the center of town—a building of uncommon solidity, calculated, it was thought to stand for ages amidst all the war of the elements. About a fourth part of the roof on the west side was carried off, with the weighty cornice, and thrown to the ground at some yards distance on the east side of the open square…”  The editor of the newspaper reported that as dreadful as the storm was, not a single life was lost or anyone injured, and then went on to philosophize.

Several times in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries earthquake shocks were felt in Carlisle. Surveyor Charles Lukens noted in his 1783 almanac that on “December 7^th about 10 o’clock P.M. two small shocks of an Earthquake, about a half minute apart [were] attended with a rumbling noise somewhat like distant thunder.”^[2] Kline’s Carlisle Weekly Gazette reported in its November 26, 1800 issue that on Thursday morning last, [November 20] “two shocks of an Earthquake were heard…the noise was loud and somewhat resembling a wagon running over a pavement or the burning of a chimney.” The shocks, the newspaper reported, were much more severe towards Harrisburg and Reading. A report from Harrisburg said “On Thursday morning last, the 20^th inst. two shocks of an Earthquake were felt. The first took place about 15 minutes before five o’clock and lasted about 40 seconds…the knockers on some of the doors rapped as though they were moved by hands….The second shock took place 5 minutes after 5 o’clock and lasted about half a minute….In both instances, a rumbling noise accompanied the trembling of the earth.”^[3] A report from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, dated November, 22, reported ”In the course of the last two days we have been visited by several alarming earthquakes….We believe the first occurrence was on Wednesday morning about 5 o’clock ‘which seemed like the murmur of distant winds.’ A few minutes before six on the same morning, we had the most violent shock. It continued for about 50 seconds, agitated everything, and was in sound like the rumbling of many carriages over a stone pavement.”^[4]