Chapter XXVIII. SCENES IN GRENADA

Owing to the many delays on my route across the mountains, it was

twilight when I reached an ordinary looking house, situated on an

elevated piece of land surrounded on every side by fields of sugar cane.

The lands in the vicinity appeared low, and there were indications of

swamps at no great distance. About a mile off, in a northerly direction,

was the broad ocean. A mule, saddled and bridled, stood at the door.

My guide told me, with an air of triumph, that this was the Upper Pearl

estate.

As I alighted from my mule, a tall man, with a sad countenance, thin and

pallid cheeks, and a tottering frame, came out of the house leaning upon

the arm of another person. This sickly-looking gentleman, who proved

to be the manager, welcomed me to the plantation, and expressed

satisfaction at my arrival. He was on the point of leaving the estate

for a few days, he said, on a visit to a friend near the mountains. In

the mean time Mr. Murray, the gentleman by whom he was supported, was

to look after the plantation and attend to my comforts. This

spectral-looking object then, with difficulty, mounted his mule, and

accompanied by an able-bodied negro on foot, slowly rode away from the

estate.

Mr. Murray received me with cordiality, and tendered me the

hospitalities of the mansion. He was a man of pleasing address and

more than ordinary intelligence. I afterwards learned that he was the

secretary of Mr. Church, the attorney for the Pearl estates. After some

little conversation, he abruptly asked me what quarter of the world I

came from.

"I am an American," was my not very definite reply.

"O," he remarked, with a significant wink, which was evidently intended

as a good-natured hint, "you are from Canada, or Nova Scotia, I

suppose."

"No, sir," said I, emphatically, determined that my position should

be distinctly understood, "I was born in the town of Tyngsboro, in the

state of Massachusetts, and am a citizen of the United States."

Having a vague suspicion that the Pearl estate was not the paradise

described by Bohun, I inquired why the manager had left the estate so

abruptly.

"Because he is attacked with fever, and would not live forty-eight hours

if he remained here."

I was shocked at this announcement, and pursued my inquiries. "Is fever

a common occurrence on this plantation, or is this sickness of the

manager an extraordinary case?"

"Common enough, in all conscience," replied Murray, with a laugh. "Mr.

Orr is the second manager who has been driven off by sickness within the

last six months. Two overseers have died within a year, one after the

other, and until Mr. Church met with YOU, no one could be found to take

the place, which has been vacant several weeks."

This was interesting intelligence, but I continued my inquiries. "If the

estate is so unhealthy as you represent, why are YOU willing to remain

here?"

"O, my stay here will be only a few days, or weeks, at most. Besides, I

am well seasoned, having resided ten years in the island; and I make it

a rule to keep my system well fortified against fever by the liberal use

of generous liquors; and if you hope to LIVE here, you will do well to

follow my example."

"Mr. Bohun told me that the upper Pearl estate was one of the healthiest

on the island. How could he have been so grossly deceived?"

"Deceived? Not he; all humbug."

"But he surely does not know the estate is so unhealthy?"

"Not know it? Bohun not know it? Certainly he does. Every body knows

it. Every estate has its reputation, and the reputation of the Pearl

estates, both of them, is NOTORIOUSLY BAD. No man, unless his courage

or his fortune is desperate, will take a situation on either of these

plantations."

I was astonished, dumbfounded at this intelligence, which effectually

silenced further inquiries. After a short pause, Murray proceeded: "The

fact is, Mr. Church told me all about the matter yesterday afternoon.

Bohun found it difficult to procure you such a situation as you wanted,

and was anxious to get you off his hands. Meeting Mr. Church in town,

he asked him to take you. Mr. Church objected, telling him it would be

a pity to place you on the Pearl plantation, where you might drop off

in less than six weeks. But Bohun urged the matter; requested it as a

personal favor; and they being countrymen, you know and so and so you

see your business was done, and here you are."

I undoubtedly looked grave at the interesting information thus frankly

given; and Murray, remarking it, continued, in a consolatory tone:

"Never mind, my good fellow; keep up your spirits. I thought it best to

tell you the worst at once, and let you know what you have to expect.

You will have to go through a regular seasoning; and if you can stand

that on the Pearl estate, you may take your degree of M.D. as Doctor of

Malaria, and bid defiance to yellow fever forever after!"

I was not ambitious of such a distinction, and would gladly have

declined it, were it possible; but, on calmly surveying my position,

there appeared no alternative. Relying on the correctness of Bohun's

suggestions and the disinterestedness of his counsels, I had taken a

step which could not, for a time at least, be retraced. I therefore

determined to go forward and make the best of it; look on the bright

side of my situation, if it had any bright side, faithfully perform the

duties of my office, and trust to my constitution and regular habits, in

spite of the counsels of Murray, for the rest.

I felt hurt at the conduct of Bohun, which from Murray's version was not

such as I was prepared to expect, notwithstanding my experience in the

dark side of human nature. I still hoped that Murray's statements might

be exaggerated, and that Bohun was actuated in his conduct towards me by

feelings of grateful kindness.

On the following day Mr. Church visited the estate. He was a middle-aged

man, had held a captain's commission in one of those British West India

regiments which, after having been reduced to mere skeletons by battles

with the French and yellow fever, were unjustly and inhumanly disbanded,

at a long distance from "home," leaving the brave men, who were thus

rewarded for their services, to return to their native country as they

could, or struggle for a precarious existence in a tropical climate.

Mr. Church chose to remain in the island and engage in the planting

business. Possessing energy of character and rectitude of principle, and

having influential connections, he became in a few years the attorney

for the Pearl estates, married the daughter of a Scotch planter, and

resided very pleasantly and happily at a beautiful seat called Bel-Air,

situated a few miles from the Upper Pearl. He entered into conversation

with me, instructed me in my duties, regretted the absence of the

manager, which might unpleasantly affect my comforts, and gave me some

precautionary hints in relation to my health. I felt somewhat reassured

by my conversation with that gentleman, and erroneously believing it

would be in my power to leave the island if I should think proper, at no

distant period, indulged in no unavailing regrets, but philosophically

resolved to make myself as comfortable as circumstances would allow.

The treatment I met with among the planters, during my whole residence

in the island, was that of unvarying kindness; many of them were well

educated and cultivated a literary taste; had well-furnished libraries,

which were not kept for show; and the history and writings of Ramsay,

Ferguson, Burns, Beattie, Robertson, Blair, and other distinguished

Scottish authors, were as familiar with some of the planters in Grenada

"as household words." The early novels of the "Wizard of the North" were

then exciting much interest, which was shared by the inhabitants of the

English West India Islands.

The mildness of the climate seemed to have a tendency to melt away that

frigidity which is a characteristic of people of the north, and the

residents of the island were as frank, free, and hospitable as if

they had never been out of the tropics. I soon formed many pleasant

acquaintances and acquired many friends. And this, with the aid of

books in abundance, enabled me to pass my leisure hours agreeably.

Notwithstanding the heat of the climate, and the prevalence of the

erroneous idea that violent physical exercise in the tropics is

injurious to the health of strangers, I indulged often in recreations of

a kind which excited the surprise and called forth the remonstrances of

my friends.

From my earliest recollection, I was a devoted disciple of good old

Izaak Walton, and the rivers on the north side of the island, rushing

down from the mountains, with deep pools, and rocky channels, and

whirling eddies, being well stocked with finny inhabitants, furnished me

with fine opportunities to indulge in the exciting sport of angling.

My efforts were chiefly confined to the capture of the "mullet," a fish

resembling the brook trout in New England in size and habits, although

not in appearance. It is taken with the artificial fly or live

grasshopper for bait; and to capture it, as much skill, perseverance,

and athletic motion is required as to capture trout in the mountain

gorges of New Hampshire.

I also occasionally indulged my taste for rambling in the mountains.

In these excursions, which, although exceedingly interesting, were

solitary, for I never could persuade anyone to accompany me, I always

took a gun, making the ostensible object of my rambles the shooting

of RAMEES birds of the pigeon species, of beautiful plumage, nearly as

large as a barnyard fowl, and of delicate flavor. These birds inhabited

the deepest recesses of the woods, and, although seldom molested, were

exceedingly shy.

Few animals are found in the forests and mountains of Grenada. The

agouti, the armadillo, and the opossum, are sometimes, though rarely,

seen. The only quadruped I ever met with in my rambles was an opossum,

which I shot as it was climbing a tree. Of reptiles there are none in

the mountains. There are several kinds of snakes in the island, some

of which have never been described by naturalists. The species which

is most common is a black snake (constrictor) of large size, being

frequently eight or ten feet in length, and three or four inches

in diameter. These snakes are treated not only with forbearance but

kindness by the planters, and in return render important service on the

sugar plantations, being most persevering and successful RAT CATCHERS;

rats are abundant, and exceedingly destructive to the sugar cane, on

which they subsist during a considerable portion of the year. None

of the serpents in Grenada are poisonous, but in some of the islands,

particularly St. Lucia, there exists a snake which resembles the

rattlesnake in the ferocity of its attacks and the deadly venom of its

bite. Having no rattles, no warning of danger is given to the unwary

traveller until the snake darts from its ambush and inflicts a fatal

wound; hence the name given to this dangerous reptile is the LANCE DE

FER.

In penetrating those mountain gorges, and climbing those mountain

ridges, steep and thickly covered with forest trees and vines of many

kinds, and of luxuriant growth, I sometimes passed hours without meeting

any sign of life, except the flitting and hum of the humming-bird, and

the loud and musical coo of the ramee. That mountain wilderness seemed

the chosen home of the humming-bird. I there met with many varieties,

some of which were exceedingly beautiful. My appearance in those forests

caused them much surprise, and to gratify their curiosity they sometimes

flew towards me, and hovered within a few feet of my face, as if eager

to examine my appearance and learn what object led me to intrude on

their mountain haunts.

There were, however, other and less interesting inhabitants in that

region, as I one day discovered to my great consternation. I was passing

up the bed of a small stream, where the water, by attrition during many

ages, had worn a chasm or "flume" through the solid basaltic rock, the

walls of which rose at least a hundred feet nearly perpendicularly, when

I found an obstacle to my further progress in the shape of some large

rocks, which had fallen from above and blocked the passage. I was

unable to scale the CHEVAUX-DE-FRISE; but the whole body of water poured

through an aperture three or four feet above the bed of the stream; and

although it looked dark and dreary within, instead of retracing my steps

to find another route through the woods to the spot I wished to reach, I

determined to force my way into the gloomy cavern, with the expectation

of being able to emerge on the opposite side.

I listened for a moment at the mouth of the aperture, but heard only the

murmuring of the stream as it swept along through the uneven channel. I

then thrust in my head, when I heard a rushing noise as of the flapping

of a thousand wings, and the next moment I was sprawling on my back in

the water, having been summarily capsized, partly by force and partly by

an involuntary start of terror!

I raised my head and beheld a legion of BATS, some of them of uncommon

size, issuing in a stream from the mouth of the cave. These animals in

the tropics are numerous, and seclude themselves from the light of

day in caverns or other dark and lonely recesses, where they attach

themselves to the roof, and clinging to each other are suspended in

large pyramidal clusters or festoons. When disturbed, they take wing,

and hastily quit their abodes. By unthinkingly intruding on their

territories, which had probably never before been invaded, great alarm

was excited among the inmates; a terrible confusion ensued, and the

general rush to the aperture caused my unceremonious overthrow.

In one of my mountain excursions, I lost my way while enveloped in a

dense mist, and, after descending a steep ridge, came upon a platform

or terrace of several acres' extent, which at first view seemed to have

been formed by artificial means on the mountain side. This plain was

level, and thickly covered with coarse grass, which, finding a genial

soil and region, grew to a height of five or six feet. Near the centre

of the prairie stood the only tree which flourished on this fertile

spot. It was a silk cotton tree. I made my way through the grass with

difficulty to the tree, which by measurement I found to be twenty-five

feet in circumference larger than any other tree I ever saw in the

island. Immense branches shot out horizontally about twenty feet from

the ground, extending to a distance in every direction from the trunk

sixty or eighty feet. Indeed, the gigantic size of the tree, its rich

and luxuriant foliage, and its noble and majestic appearance, were

in perfect keeping with the place. I tarried some time beneath its

branches, and gazed with interest on the picturesque scene, regretting

that I had no companion to share my admiration, and thinking that as

doubtless no human being, unless some wild Carib in days of yore, had

ever previously visited that singular spot, so it was likely centuries

would pass away before any other individual would chance to behold and

admire that beautiful terrace on the mountain side. I then plunged among

the trees and vines growing upon the steep declivity on the further

side, and, after a precipitous retreat of two or three hundred feet,

heard the murmuring of a stream below, by following which I at length

reached a cultivated district.

The clouds on those mountain tops often collect with extraordinary

quickness, and, while the sun is shining brightly on the cultivated

lands, pour down the rain in deluging showers, which, rushing in

cataracts through the gorges, swell the rivers unexpectedly, sometimes

causing fatal disasters by sweeping away horsemen or teams when fording

the streams. The rise of a river from this cause is sometimes alarmingly

sudden; the water comes down in solid phalanx, six or eight feet

in perpendicular height, and extends from bank to bank; and with

irresistible force sweeps down rocks and trees, shaking the earth on the

banks, and making a loud and rumbling noise like distant thunder.

The vicinity of Grenada to the continent causes this island, as well as

Tobago and Trinidad, to be exempt from the hurricanes which have proved

a terrible scourge in several of the Windward Islands, and from time to

time have been terribly destructive to life and property. In Barbadoes,

on the 10th of October, 1780, nearly all the plantations were ruined by

a hurricane of inconceivable fury, and between four and five thousand

persons lost their lives. Grenada has only once been visited by a

hurricane since its first settlement by a French colony from Martinico,

in 1650. But this hurricane was the means of removing a far greater

evil, the circumstances attending which were of an extraordinary nature,

and which I shall relate as I learned them from the lips of many who

were witnesses of their occurrence.

It was about the commencement of the present century that this island

suffered much from a visitation, which threatened to bring famine and

desolation, and destroy, not only the present, but the future hopes of

the planter. There suddenly appeared, simultaneously in different parts

of the island, a great number of BLACK ANTS, of large size, being fully

an inch in length, and of a kind until then unknown in Grenada. They

probably belonged to the species known as "the large black ant of

Africa," remarkable for its boldness and voracity. Although the

inhabitants of that fruitful island were wont to treat strangers with

hospitality, they were inclined to depart from their usual habit so far

as related to these new and strange visitants, who seemed inclined to

be more troublesome than was consistent with the welfare of the old

residents.

In the course of a couple of years the number of these invaders

increased to an incredible amount; they attacked the fruit on the trees

and the vegetables in the gardens; and the fields of sugar cane, once so

green and flourishing, soon looked as if a fire from heaven, the scourge

of an offended deity, had passed over them. Not only the fields, but the

trees, the roads, and the dwelling houses, were covered with these ants;

and when all sustenance was destroyed in one quarter, they took up their

line of march in immense armies and proceeded elsewhere in search of

food. In these migratory excursions, if they came to a brook or small

river, their progress was not stayed. Those in front were impelled into

the stream by the pressure from behind; and, although myriads were swept

away and drowned in the rushing waters, many were borne to the other

side and continued their journey. In some cases, where the current

was not strong, a sort of living bridge was formed, over which immense

numbers of these pestiferous insects passed in safety and dry shod.

Nothing seemed to check their progress or reduce their numbers.

The inhabitants, both white and black, as may be conceived, were in

great consternation, and were about to make preparations to move to

some more favored soil, when a furious hurricane was experienced. The

destruction of property was great; dwelling houses and sugar works were

destroyed, and lives were lost. The inhabitants who survived the tempest

were in despair, believing their calamities would never cease. But they

soon found, to their great joy, that this hurricane was a blessing,

rather than a curse. THE BLACK ANTS WERE EXTERMINATED, and none have

since been seen in the island.

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