When the River Ran Backward

LIKE a crease on a map of the United States, the Mississippi River splits the country in two. At its source in Minnesota, it is just ten feet [3 m] wide. But it quickly broadens out as dozens of tributaries pour into the 2,300-mile [3,700 km]-long southbound stream. Near New Orleans, Louisiana, the river reaches 200 feet [60 m] deep and half a mile [1 km] wide. Through its delta, 4,000,000 gallons [15,000,000 liters] of water pour into the Gulf of Mexico every second. During a flood, that can increase to over 22,000,000 gallons [80,000,000 liters] per second.

People living on the river know what all that water can do. They have seen it flood fields, smash levees, carry off houses, and destroy lives. But few today can even imagine what happened on the river less than 200 years ago.

In December 1811, an invisible force closed its grip on the central Mississippi valley and did not let go for weeks. A series of great earthquakes caused the riverbed to heave and sink like an agitated sea. So great was the buckling of the earth that on February 7, 1812, just upstream from New Madrid, * Missouri, the mighty Mississippi ran north instead of south.

Days of Fear and Trembling

That event climaxed a time of terror known as the New Madrid earthquakes. At 2:00 a.m., on December 16, 1811, the first quake struck in what is now the bootheel area of the state of Missouri. Farmers and townsfolk woke up as their furniture began moving and china shattered on the floor. Houses were walking off their foundations. People ran outdoors and stayed out, shivering because of the cold and the trembling of the earth. Once havens of rest and safety, their own homes were menacing them.

The ground continued shaking, but with less force, through the foredawn hours. About 7:00 a.m., another severe earthquake hit. Then, close to 11:00 a.m., another, even stronger, earthquake occurred. The ground split open in fissures. Mud, water, and coal shot up from these in eerie fountains. Stinking sulfurous gases escaped from below and fouled the air. Eyewitnesses observed thousands of crazed birds flying away  from the area. When the violence ceased, the town of Little Prairie, Missouri, was in ruins.

A Rough Ride Down the River

While the earthquakes were occurring, the brand-new steamboat New Orleans was cruising down the Ohio River toward the Mississippi​—destination New Orleans, Louisiana. Exhilaration gave way to grave anxiety as the boat entered waters affected by the earthquakes. Riverbanks were shaking and collapsing into the river. Trees, long buried under the river, were floating to the surface, threatening to gash open the hull. Large waves were rocking the boat like a cork. Navigation maps prepared for the trip were useless, for the earthquakes had shifted the course of the river. A pleasant voyage had become a trip of terror.

On December 19, 1811, the New Orleans approached New Madrid, hoping to take on supplies. The once lively river town, however, was in no condition to offer any assistance. The few people still there desperately beckoned the boat to come and take them away from the smoldering ruins of homes and businesses.

The steamboat, however, continued on down the Mississippi, its passengers now trembling like skaters caught on thin ice. It passed the town of Point Pleasant, which was a ghost town. Little Prairie was next on the map. The boat did not stop there either, since most of Little Prairie had already disappeared and the buildings that remained were wrecked.

Farther south, the steamboat encountered a massive logjam. The earthquakes had uprooted dozens of trees and thrown them into the river. After hacking and muscling their way through them, the crew of the New Orleans tied up for the night at Island #32, close to what is now Osceola, Arkansas. About 4:30 a.m. on December 21, a passenger felt the boat tugging strangely at its mooring. Daylight revealed what had happened. The line was pulled taut almost straight down into the water. There was no dry ground to be seen. During the night, the riverbed had dropped and Island #32 had disappeared below the surface, another casualty of the New Madrid earthquakes.

The New Orleans safely completed its maiden voyage, the first boat to run the length of the Mississippi River under steam power. Perhaps an even greater accomplishment was that it arrived at all.

More Shaking

Subdued tremors continued on into January 1812. On January 23, about 9:00 a.m., people felt the stomach-wrenching blows of another strong earthquake. The already shaken town of Point Pleasant, Missouri, was close to the quake’s epicenter, and its inhabitants fled. When some returned in February 1812, they discovered not only that the town had been destroyed but that every trace of it had disappeared. The quake of January 23 resulted in Point Pleasant and the ground on which it stood being thrown into the Mississippi River.

Fearing the end of the world, many folks in the bootheel region began turning to religion. Some clergymen rejoiced as the recently repentant now occupied long-empty church pews. Others suspected the motives of the rapidly growing flocks, calling them earthquake  Christians. Minister James B. Finley gave a fiery sermon in which he quoted Revelation 6:17 of the King James version of the Bible: “For the great day of his wrath is come; and who shall be able to stand?” In a physical rather than spiritual sense, standing had become difficult because of the quaking ground.

The Final Fury

Although the churchmen sent entreaties for relief heavenward, disaster kept haunting the region. Before dawn on February 7, 1812, the bootheel’s inhabitants were again shaken from fitful sleep as enormous seismic waves rolled from the epicenter beneath them. This earthquake, the most violent of them all, was so powerful that it knocked down chimneys in Cincinnati, Ohio, 400 miles [650 km] away. It rang church bells in Boston, Massachusetts, 1,000 miles [1,600 km] distant. Way up in Montreal, Canada, plates and saucers rattled on tables. One Kentucky man, living about 80 miles [130 km] from the epicenter, wrote in his log: “If we do not get away from here the ground is going to eat us alive.” A special portion of the earthquake’s fury, however, was reserved for the river town of New Madrid.

The earlier shocks had heavily damaged New Madrid, killing several residents and chasing most of the survivors away. The February 7 tremor finished the place off. As the earthquake struck, the remaining inhabitants took to flight​—and none too soon. The high bank on which the town stood crumbled and slid down into the Mississippi, where the riled torrent went licking away at the planks, bricks, and stones of New Madrid. In a short time, every sign of the town had vanished.

Effects on the River

The New Madrid earthquakes produced temporary waterfalls on the Mississippi near New Madrid. Dozens of boats capsized while going over them. The February 7 quake caused the ground to heave and sink, forcing the current to reverse direction. Huge fissures opened under the river, creating maelstroms where more boats were lost. The quakes moved the channel of the river and inundated towns and homesteads. They also diverted water from the river, creating Reelfoot Lake, a large lake in Tennessee that did not exist before 1812. Trees that once stood on dry land are now in the middle of Reelfoot Lake, stubbornly holding onto flooded ground.

An exact measurement of the magnitude of these earthquakes is not available, since modern seismographs did not exist in 1812. Scientists calculate that at least three of the New Madrid earthquakes would have exceeded 8.0 on the Richter scale. These are the greatest earthquakes ever observed in the contiguous United States and are among the most powerful ever recorded on earth. Even though the affected area was sparsely populated, dozens of people​—perhaps hundreds—​died in the disaster.

Today the Mississippi River flows by the bootheel of Missouri as if nothing big ever happened. But if the river could speak, it would tell quite a tale about the time it ran backward.

[Footnote]

[Maps on page 18]

(For fully formatted text, see publication)

MISSOURI

Mississippi River

New Madrid

[Picture on page 19]

The steamboat “New Orleans”

[Credit Line]

Used by permission, State Historical Society of Missouri, Columbia

[Picture on page 20]

The earthquakes created Reelfoot Lake

[Picture Credit Line on page 18]

U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, Washington, D.C./Dave Menke