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

CHAPTER XVII.

Chapter 424,855 wordsPublic domain

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.