CHAPTER XVII.

The seasons at Antigua--Heavy rains--Long droughts--The

water-merchant--A fortunate shower--Drought in 1837--Desolate

appearance of the country--Famishing cattle--Definition of

"_fine rains_"--Anecdote--Heavy shower--Joy--Earthquakes--1835

--Meteors--Dressing for the ball--The alarm--The ball-room--

Hurricanes--Devastations.

The seasons at Antigua may be divided into the _wet_ and _dry_.

The wet season generally commences in July, and continues, with

intermissions, until October; and in February we look for it

again. The rains in England are but summer dews, comparatively

speaking, to the torrents which the overcharged clouds pour down

upon these "Isles of the West." No one but an actual observer can

form any idea of the violence of these storms. In a moment the

streets are inundated, and the falling of the large drops upon

the shingled roofs of the houses is quite deafening.

But at the same time these rains constitute the Antiguan's

greatest blessing, for not only do they revive the parched and

thirsty earth, cool the atmosphere, promote the growth of the

sugar cane, and dress nature in her loveliest garb; but from

having (as before mentioned) only two or three fresh-water

springs in the island, and those far inland, their chief supplies

of that necessary fluid are derived from these showers. Large

cisterns are dug and carefully lined with some kind of plaster,

either terrace, brought from Monserrat or St. Christopher's, or

Roman cement, to contain it; and as rain water has the property

of purifying itself, it is generally translucent and wholesome.

Antigua has, however, at various times, suffered long and

dreadfully from drought. In 1779, the long want of rain was

painfully felt; and in 1789 it occurred again, but with redoubled

severity. Famine, it was supposed, would be the result. As many

as five thousand head of horned cattle are said to have died; and

men and women fell down in the streets from exhaustion. I have

felt what it is to suffer from this cause in a small degree; the

water we have been obliged to drink when the cisterns were dried

up was nauseous in the extreme--only stern necessity would have

induced persons to partake of it.

Sometimes, when nearly all the ponds in the island are dry, (as

was the case in 1833,) it becomes necessary to despatch vessels

to the nearest islands for a supply of water. This season of

general distress proves, at times, a rich harvest to those

adventurers who possess, or can hire, a small vessel, and load it

with water, for which they charge very high.

A circumstance occurred in the above-mentioned year, in relation

to this practice, which it may be worth while to relate. During a

long succession of dry weather, and when there was but very

little water to be found in Antigua, one of these

_water-merchants_, if I may be allowed to use that expression,

went to Monserrat (a small island a few hours' sail from Antigua)

for a cargo of this useful beverage. Upon his return he asked an

extravagant price for it; the poor people murmured; but what was

to be done? Water must be had; and in the end the hard-earned

wages of many a one found their way into the pockets of this

"Aquarius."

Finding his profits so great this time, and the dry weather

continuing, he determined to make another trip, and if possible,

add a little more of the "Honey of Hybla" to his stock. He

arrived at Antigua with his elementary cargo in the evening, and

immediately commenced his traffic. But in this instance he

outwitted himself; for raising his demands as the necessity of

water appeared the greater, the people were unable to comply, and

determined to wait until morning, in hopes of procuring some at a

cheaper rate.

In the meantime the clouds began to darken, and appeared to rest

upon the top of the mountains. The wind whistled mournfully among

the trees--the air became chill--the mercury fell, and in a few

moments the windows of heaven were opened, and the long-looked

and wished-for rain descended, not in measured drops, "soft and

slow," but in torrents. Now was the season of exultation; every

vessel capable of containing fluids was put in requisition, and

the mortified _water-merchant_ was obliged to get rid of his

cargo the best way he could. Near to our residence is a kennel,

which in dry weather is totally devoid of moisture, but during

these heavy rains it becomes a small rivulet. To this stream then

rushed a motley group; men, women, and children, dogs and poultry

--all participating in the general joy; even the swinish

multitude grunted forth their approbation, and ran to lave their

snouts in its cool waters.

It was laughable to see the little black children as they

scampered about, shaking their hands, and screaming with delight

as they enjoyed their natural "shower bath," which proved a more

effective one than even Mrs. O'Flinn's. Talking of "shower baths"

brings to my recollection an anecdote related of a late merchant

of St. John's.

Mr. B------, the merchant in question, had been for some time

suffering from indisposition, and his medical attendant advised

him to try the renovating influence of a shower-bath.

Accordingly, such a machine was duly procured, and the next

morning put into requisition. In the course of the day the

physician called to ascertain the state of his patient after his

ablution, and with winning voice, inquired how he liked his

"shower-bath." "Oh, doctor!" replied the sick man, with rueful

look and lengthened visage, "I verily thought I should have

fainted, the shock was so great." "Indeed," said Dr. M------, in

his usual bland manner, "I am sorry it had such an effect; why

did you not follow the Irishman's plan, and take your umbrella?"

The next forenoon brought with it the customary medical visitor,

who again inquired into the merits of the bath. "Why," quoth the

invalid, "I cannot say the shock was so great, but I do not think

I shall derive any benefit from it; in fact, only my feet

received a wetting this time, for I followed your advice _and

carried my umbrella!_"

But to return to the subject of droughts. Severe as the drought

was in 1833, it was nothing compared to what we suffered in 1837,

from the same cause; and, indeed, for the greater part of the

preceding year. The old people remarked that they never

remembered its being so dry since 1789, (which was particularly

distinguished as "the year of the drought.") What miseries the

Antiguans then suffered, I am of course from experience unable to

say; but if they exceeded those endured in that eventful year,

1837, they must have been terrible indeed.

Almost every pond and cistern in the island was dried up,

scarcely a blade of grass was to be seen; and when walking over

pasture land, it crackled beneath the feet as if it had been

baked. The poor cattle presented a most deplorable appearance,

wandering about as they did in search of food and water, and

expressing their urgent wants, by faint, melancholy lowings.

The poorer class of inhabitants, also, felt it very much, obliged

as they were to drink the spring water, which is but very little

better than salt. The little fresh water they were able to

procure occasioned them great labour, for after toiling hard all

the day, they were obliged to devote the greater part of the

night to fetching it from distant parts of the islands, carrying

it in tubs upon their heads.

It was a pitiful sight to see the country, it presented such a

scene of barrenness. The cane-pieces looked burnt up; nothing was

to be seen but dry and withered leaves, in place of their

accustomed rich green; the provision grounds became mere wastes,

and all agricultural employments were at a stand.

Days and weeks thus rolled on, and still the same blue cloudless

sky--the same burning sun. Or if a cloud did arise, and skim the

vast concave, and the hopes of men grew strong, it passed away

without giving the long-looked-for blessing. Again, and the scene

changed. Huge dense clouds might be seen, piled one upon another,

and slowly extending themselves over the sky until they reached

the zenith; the upper ones looking as if crowned with snowflakes,

while those nearer the earth were black and heavy like a

"funereal pall," and appeared as if about to discharge their

burdens. "Now we shall have it!" was the cry; "at last, we shall

have rain!" Delusive hopes! doomed to be overthrown; these again

passed away, and left no boon.

Every day presented appearances more and more alarming, the

little supply of water was rapidly diminishing, and men and

brutes were becoming exhausted by thirst. Days were set apart by

the legislature for public prayers and fasts, and a sum of money

granted for the purpose of hiring vessels to go to Monserrat for

water. This water was sold by the pail, but from being brought

over in molasses' casks, it tasted extremely disagreeable.

The late Sir Evan Murray McGregor, then governor of Barbados,

hearing of the necessities of the Antiguans, (over whom he had

formerly held sway in the character of commander-in-chief of the

Leeward Islands,) sent a man-of-war with a cargo of this precious

element from that island; but under some pretence or the other,

it was refused by the legislature. The cause of this

extraordinary line of conduct was said to be this. Sir Evan was

not generally a favourite governor with the aristocratic party:

he was a man of strict principles, and one who poised the scales

of justice with an impartial hand between rich and poor, white

and coloured. He would not herd with the _great people_--go to

their houses, eat their corn-fed mutton and turtle, drink their

_Château Margeau_ and Champagne, and then wink at their

proceedings, and gloss over their errors, like some of his

predecessors. Upon this account he was not liked, and when in the

kindness of his heart he sent the present of water, it was

refused in a very cold manner. Some of the members of the

assembly were against this arrangement, and said, for the honour

of Antigua, that they would rather have lost double the amount

than it should have been returned.

But to return more particularly to the drought. Not only did the

inhabitants suffer from want of water to drink, and for general

use, but the country provisions, such as yams, potatoes, &c.,

upon which the negroes principally depend, unavoidably failed;

and as all importations were raised so much in price, the lower

classes were almost starved.

The planters endured great inconvenience, not only from the

dryness of the soil, which ruined the sugar-canes, but also from

having to pay the same number of labourers their regular wages,

without having anything for them to do, yet at the same time

being obliged to retain them, lest when the wet season did come,

and their assistance was really required, they might not be

procurable.

I heard a circumstance related which occasioned a smile, even in

this time of distress. A certain good lady of St. John's sent one

of her domestics to the sea side for a pail of salt water. It

happened to be ebb-tide,[66] and upon the servant returning, she

exclaimed to her mistress, the greatest astonishment being

depicted upon her countenance, "Why missis, war you tink? It dry

so till sea himself dry now. War eber we go do, me no no."

Oh! how anxiously did we watch the barometer day after day, in

hopes of its indicating rain. The inhabitants of the different

parts of the island meeting one another, the first question asked

was, "What weather have you had? do you think we are likely to

get any rain?"

A proprietor of a large estate in a distant part of the island,

but who resided in the capital, met one morning a labourer of his

coming from the country, and of course asked what news there was,

and how they were coming on. "So, so, massa," returned the negro

--"we hab fine rain last night." "Say you so, my fine fellow?"

quoth his master, his heart enlarged at the prospect of his canes

flourishing, "well, here's a quarter-dollar for you, as a reward

for your good news."

In the course of the same day, the manager of the estate arrived

in town, and upon seeing the proprietor, was congratulated by him

upon the "fine rains" he had so fortunately experienced in the

country. "_Fine rains!_" said the manager, in surprise, "do I

hear you aright, or are you joking? (although I think you'll find

it no joke in the end;) we have had no rain at all, and I came

into town this morning to consult with you upon the subject; for

from the excessive drought, the canes are all burnt up, the

cattle dying in all directions, and the labourers themselves are

dropping down exhausted from want of water."

The proprietor stormed and raved--that fellow Cato told me you

had had fine rains last night; and I was so pleased to hear it,

that--that--I actually gave the black rascal a quarter-dollar for

his information. "Here, John! go and call that fellow back,"

turning to a domestic, "and tell him to make haste--do you hear?"

In the course of a short time Cato returned, rolling up his eyes

until only the whites (or rather yellows) were visible, holding

his little flannel cap in one hand, and in the other, what was

once designated as a _pipe_, and uttering a mysterious noise,

which was intended as half interrogative, half conciliatory,

waited until his master, who was puffing and blowing, and looking

"unutterable things," should speak.

At length the storm burst--the torrent descended. "How dare you

tell me such a story this morning, sirrah? How dare you, sir?

answer me!" "War 'tory, massa," inquired the self-convicted, but

waggish negro, the left foot at the same time performing

countless evolutions, and the flannel cap twirled round the thumb

with increased velocity. "What story? you arrant rogue! why, the

story you told me this morning about having fine rains in the

country." "Me no tell no 'tory, massa," retorted the negro,

determined to stand his master's ire undaunted, and, like many

other guilty ones, striving to have the last word. "Me no tell no

'tory; war for me go tell 'tory? me no 'peak de trute." "You

speak the truth, indeed! Here's the manager, who tells me there

has been no rain at all, but, on the contrary, that my stock are

all dying from want of water; and yet you dared to tell me you

had fine rains last night." "Yes, massa, and so we _hab fine

rain_; me tell de trute. An more den dat, de rain _fine so_ till

--t-i-ll (prolonging the word) me hardly able to see him, he so

fine!" Both owner and manager found it difficult to maintain

their gravity at this definition of _fine rains_; while Cato,

with a grin of self-congratulation at having so adroitly got

himself out of a bad scrape; and grasping more firmly his

quarter-dollar, which he imagined to be in some danger, set off

for his own residence.

"Hope deferred, maketh the heart sick;" and so indeed it was with

us, when day after day passed, and still no appearance of rain.

But One, who does not "willingly grieve the children of men,"

remembered us in our great affliction, and when we least thought

of it, sent us the needful blessing. I never saw such a fall of

rain before; and many of the oldest inhabitants said the same

thing. In about an hour from the time it first commenced, the

streets were streaming with water; indeed, the one in which we

reside looked more like a small river than anything else, for not

a vestige of dry ground appeared.

Report said two or three children were carried into the sea by

the violence of the stream which rushed through the streets; but

upon further inquiry, I found, as is generally the case, report

did not speak truth. It originated from an old woman, seeing some

chickens (which had been brought to market for sail, with their

legs tied together) floating down the stream, when she exclaimed,

"Eh! eh! look de fowl pic'nee;[67] he sure he go get drowned!"

This travelled, and lost nothing by its peregrinations, until at

length it became magnified into the loss of several children.

In a very short time, all the ponds and cisterns in the island,

which for so long a time had been perfectly dry, were filled to

overflowing, and care and distress gave way to joy and

thankfulness.

About June, July, and August, Antigua is liable to be visited by

storms of thunder, and lightning, and earthquakes. The lightning

in this part of the globe is very vivid; and the thunder bellows

through the air in terrific peals, every hill and mountain

reverberating the sound. Often have I seen the lightning playing

down the spiral branches of the cocoa-nut trees, presenting a

sublime but awful appearance.

But although these storms are so violent, and consequently so

harrowing to the feelings, they are nothing in comparison to the

earthquakes with which we are sometimes visited. Every nerve is

shaken by these terrible convulsions of nature; the very brute

creation seem to feel their influence.

In April, 1690, Antigua suffered very severely from this cause.

Nearly the whole town of St. John's was destroyed; and the

sugar-works upon the various plantations in the country almost

all overthrown. In many parts of the island, the solid earth was

rent open; rocks were hurled from their places, and the very

mountains defaced. The line of hills which skirts the harbour

suffered from the concussion in a remarkable manner: one of them

was rent completely in twain; and now, after the lapse of so many

years, presents the appearance of two heights, with a deep dingle

running between them. Soon after this awful occurrence, two

comets made their appearance.

The first time I felt an earthquake, I took it to be the approach

of a heavy carriage; but by the increased, rumbling and tremour

of the earth, was quickly undeceived. It was but a slight shock,

however, and I began to think an earthquake was not so dreadful

as my fancy had depicted it to be.

It was reserved for the year 1833 to prove to me what an

earthquake really was, and make me fully aware of its terrifying

powers; and although nearly nine years have rolled by since that

period, and consequently the remembrance of it has lost some part

of its vividness, yet the occurrences of that night has left so

deep an impression upon my mind, that it will never be wholly

obliterated.

Between eight and nine in the evening, a shock of an earthquake

was felt; but as it did not continue long, no particular

attention was paid to it. We had retired to-bed, and were in our

first sleep, when we were suddenly awakened by that peculiar

hollow noise which is always the forerunner of one of these

convulsions. The noise became louder and louder; the earth heaved

to and fro; the house shook from its very foundation; and books,

glasses, and other light articles fell from their resting-places.

This lasted with undiminished force: but a few minutes elapsed

before another violent shock was felt. In the midst of this, the

church-bell commenced ringing, and drums beating an alarm, while

the whole face of the heavens, glowing with a fiery red, soon

informed us that a conflagration augmented the horrors of the

night.

There were twenty-one distinct shocks felt between twelve at

night and five in the morning, but the earth continued in a

tremour for twenty-four hours afterwards. Thus it was we passed

through that wearisome night; but when morning broke in the east,

and the bright sun arose, and chased away the clouds of darkness,

how many hearts swelled with gratitude towards Him who had so

mercifully protected us through its dangers.

The fire broke out at an estate called Otto's, situated in the

suburbs of St. John's. It was supposed by many to have been

occasioned by a meteor striking a wooden building, which

supposition acquires more credence from the following fact. An

elderly female, of the name of Moore, who had acquired some

notoriety from her preaching, both in England (particularly in

Cateaton street, London) and the West Indies, was sitting up

late, on the night in question, employed in writing her

"Memoirs." She mentions having seen a particular appearance in

the heavens, which she described as looking like a bright scarf

of fire gradually gliding down the sky in the direction of the

estate, until, upon apparently gaining the earth, it vanished.

The attorney of the above-mentioned estate also witnessed a

similar phenomenon a few weeks afterwards. In this instance, the

meteor descended upon the branch of a cocoa-nut tree, which grew

near his house, and set it on fire; and had it not been for the

courage and activity of a negro who was present, and who

succeeded in felling the tree, great danger might have resulted

from it.

Most of the Leeward Islands suffered from earthquakes the same

night; but at St. Kitts, (about sixty miles to the west of

Antigua,) they appear to have felt them more severely than in the

other islands. A ball was held that evening at the Court House,

and the company were dressing for the occasion when the first

shock was felt.

Two young ladies, the daughters of a respectable merchant of

Bassterre, (the capital of St. Kitts,) met with so great a

fright, that they were obliged to forego paying their court to

the "dancing muse." The duties of the toilet were scarcely

finished, when, as before observed, the earthquake commenced. In

a moment the ceiling of the apartment was rent, and, as they

supposed, a heavy fall of rain penetrated through the aperture,

and extinguished the lights.

The youngest of the ladies, terrified at the concussion, and not

knowing the extent of their danger, threw herself upon the

ground, calling loudly for help. The trembling domestics quickly

came with a lamp, when, horror of horrors! they found the

delicate white satin in which their young mistress was enrobed,

completely saturated with _blood_! The other members of the

family, alarmed by the screams of the servants, assembled in the

room, and with eagerness inquired where the wound was. This was

not to be discovered; and, accordingly, another elucidation of

the mystery was sought for, and no long period elapsed before it

was found. Their father, as before observed, was a merchant, and

the attic over the room the young ladies occupied had been

converted into a temporary wine-store. From the severe shock of

the earthquake, a cask of port wine got staved; and what had the

appearance of _blood_, was nothing less than its contents which

so liberally bedewed the ball-dress of the fair sufferer.

But the first shock did not intimidate many, however, and

consequently the ball-room was crowded with visitants. "Nods and

becks, and wreathed smiles," flew around; innumerable lamps

illumined the room, but their blaze was eclipsed by the radiance

emitted from the dark brilliant eyes of the Houris, who, on the

"light fantastic toe," glided through the mazes of a quadrille.

All was joy fulness, and every heart responded to the genial

influence of the scene, when another shock more violent, and of

longer continuance, converted this feeling of pleasure into the

opposite one of woe. Instead of the lively scene described, all

was now tumult and distress. Some of the ladies fainted, others

threw themselves upon their knees, while the greater number

rushed out of the apartment, which now looked hateful to them,

and hastened to the beach.

Shock followed shock in rapid succession, and the poor

"Kittefonians" thought their little island was doomed to

destruction. Nor was it from the quaking of the earth that all

their terror proceeded; the sea rose so high, and the waves

rolled in such a tumultuous manner, that an inundation was

feared. In such a situation the inhabitants were almost paralyzed

with fear; some went on board the different ships in the harbour,

while others remained all night upon the beach, exposed to the

"pitiless pelting" of the storm.

I chanced to visit St. Kitts a short time after this awful

occurrence. The inhabitants were still trembling from

apprehension; and upon the slightest motion of the floor, the

colour fled from the lips of many of the fair sex, and left them

of a pallid white. I was present, upon one occasion, when a

gentleman requested a young lady to favour him with a song. "Oh,

no, sir! you must excuse me," said she, lengthening her very

pretty face, and throwing an air of gravity into her countenance;

"we never sing since the earthquake." If no other good was

effected, it had the power of alienating her mind (for a season

at least) from some of the vanities of the world, if a simple

song can be called one.

Another dreadful visitation of elementary strife, to which

Antigua, as well as the other West Indian islands, is liable in

the months of August, September, and October, are the hurricanes,

or _tornadoes_. When they come, they are armed with every terror

--rain, thunder, lightning, and sometimes earthquakes, attend

their progress. The sea feels their influence, and, by its

swelling and roaring, expresses it--

"The waves behind impel the waves before,

Wide-rolling, foaming high, they tumble to the shore."

The years 1670, 1681, 1707, 1740, 1772, 1780, and 1792, are those

in which the severest hurricanes have occurred at Antigua. The

hurricane of 1670 was most memorable. It raged with intense

severity for four hours, and in that short space of time

destroyed the new town of St. John's, which had been rebuilt

since the French invasion, and levelled almost every house with

the ground. The ships lost in the harbour were the "Robert," of

Ireland, William Cocks, master; the "Merchants' Adventure," of

the same place; the "Margaret Pink," from Tangiers, and another

large ship called the "Five Islands," besides several smaller

vessels which had come there for shelter. A wreck was also driven

ashore, in which was found the corpse of a boy, some palm oil,

and elephants' teeth, supposed to be from Guinea. That of 1707

was also very severe, being considered one of the most violent

ever experienced in the Leeward West India Islands, although

Antigua suffered more than any of the neighbouring colonies. It

blew down houses and entire sugar-works, tore up the largest

trees by the roots, and devastated whole fields of sugar-canes;

indeed, so tremendous was the hurricane, that it caused an almost

general destruction. The oldest inhabitants of the present day

unite, however, in saying that they never experienced one so

awful as that of 1835.

About four in the afternoon it commenced to look very wild,

although the wind was moderate; the sky was of a deep saffron

colour, and the sun shone with a fiery red. Between five and six

in the evening the wind rose, and continued increasing until

about seven, when the havoc began.

Houses were levelled in an instant with the ground; many of the

small dwellings were completely lifted from off their slight

foundations, and carried by the wind to some distance. One old

woman in particular had a narrow escape of her life. The house in

which she resided was raised about five feet from the ground by

the violence of the wind, hurried along with the greatest

velocity for about the space of twenty feet across the road, and

then placed in what was once a pond. Luckily, however, for the

good old dame, the pond had been filled up, or, in all

probability, her aerial flight would have finished her course of

existence in this transitory sphere.

The hurricane raged with unabated force until a little before

nine, tearing up large trees by the roots, and snapping asunder

others as if they had been twigs; when, suddenly, in a moment,

the wind dropped. Not a sound was to be heard--not a single

breeze was abroad: A deep, solemn silence reigned around--a

silence which harrowed up every feeling of the soul, for it spoke

of dire mishaps.

This continued for some time, when again the wind returned with

redoubled fury, as if its strength was recruited by the short

respite it had gained, and shook the very earth. The hurricane

raged until the sun got up, and then slowly and sullenly it sank

to rest; until towards evening, nothing was to be heard but its

sobs and sighs.

A great many small vessels belonging to Antigua were sunk during

the gale, and many poor mortals that night found--

"Their death in the rushing blast,

Their grave in the yawning sea."

------

[66] Although in Antigua the tide does not ebb and flow more than

from six to twelve inches in ordinary instances.

[67] "Pic'nee" is the negro term for children.

Antigua and the Antiguans, Volume 1 (of 2) A full account of the colony and its inhabitants from the time of the Caribs to the present day · 第 17 / 28 章