Resurrecting Lisbon.
By Bruce Stutz
NewScientist.com News Service | 22 October 2005


The first tremor struck Lisbon at 9.45 am on 1 November 1755 - All Saint's Day. From the hills above, it must have looked as if a rug had been pulled from under the city. Buildings toppled into the narrow streets. Panicked residents rushed for the refuge of the waterfront only to see the river Tagus recede towards the sea, feel the ground beneath them give way and the waters return in a series of great waves that swept a kilometre inland. Candles lit in homes and churches to mark the holy day soon set what remained of the city ablaze. Tens of thousands died. The Lisbon that had launched the age of discovery was reduced to smouldering rubble. But one man had a vision for its reconstruction.

IN A time before world wars, and before weapons of mass destruction, no one could have imagined devastation on such a massive scale. The Lisbon earthquake of 1755 was "a Spectacle of Terror and Amazement, as well as of Desolation to Beholders, as perhaps has not been equalled from the Foundation of the World!" as one eyewitness put it. "It would be a vain Attempt to endeavour describing the numberless Miseries and terrible Distresses of all kinds occasioned by this dreadful Calamity, as well as the shocking Effects that it had on the Minds of All People. Infinite were the Numbers of poor broken limbed Persons, who were forced to be deserted even by those who loved them best and left to the miserable Torture of being burnt alive. Women big with Child were delivered in the open Fields and Places, amidst the Groans and Cries of trembling multitudes."

Portugal's capital was Europe's fourth largest city, with a population of 275,000. The wealth of the country's colonies made Lisbon perhaps the world's richest port. But it was built on unsteady ground, alluvial sands that the earthquake - estimated at magnitude 8.7 - practically liquefied.

Many buildings sank in the slumping soils before they collapsed. Worse, the masonry buildings were built without supporting frameworks: upper storeys were supported only by the floor of the storey below, so when one floor collapsed, the entire structure fell. The city's streets were so narrow that they were quickly blocked by rubble. Its people were trapped and crushed.

While philosophers and religious leaders argued over whether the quake demonstrated the force of nature or the vengeance of God, King José I, a better card player than a ruler, retreated to his country estate and refused to return or even live ever again under a solid roof. It was left to the king's practical chief minister, the bewigged aristocrat Sebastião José de Carvalho e Melo (later the marquis of Pombal) to take control. Reportedly, when the king asked, "What shall we do?" Pombal answered, "Bury the dead and feed the living."

If Lisbon was the first modern disaster, Pombal (left) was the first to implement modern disaster relief. Concerned about the spread of disease from decomposing bodies, he had the tens of thousands of corpses put on barges that were taken out to sea and sunk. He charged the army with delivering food to the city. To prevent looting and to keep people from fleeing into overcrowded areas, anyone entering or leaving the city required a pass. He gave judges the power to convict, sentence and hang looters on the spot. To prevent profiteering he fixed food prices, removed taxes on fish and took possession of all construction materials. Ships were not allowed to leave the harbour with goods that might be needed for the relief effort. Although the homeless population now lived in tents, Pombal made it illegal for landlords to evict their tenants, so that people could eventually return home. He also demanded that the clergy stop preaching that the "end of days" was near.

 

next >>