ANTIGUA
AND THE ANTIGUANS:

TO THE
HON^BLE ROWLAND EDWARD WILLIAMS,

LATE CAPTAIN IN THE 10th REGIMENT OF HUSSARS,
ONE OF HER MAJESTY’S PRIVY COUNCIL IN ANTIGUA,

THE LINEAL DESCENDANT OF
THE FIRST WHITE CHILD BORN IN THAT ISLAND,
AND THE FRIEND AND BENEFACTOR OF ITS INHABITANTS
OF EVERY HUE AND COLOUR,

This Work,

DESCRIPTIVE OF ANTIGUA AND THE ANTIGUANS,
IS, BY HIS KIND PERMISSION,
INSCRIBED
BY HIS FAITHFUL AND OBLIGED SERVANT,

THE AUTHOR.

PREFACE.

Although in the present day the writing of a preface may be considered almost a work of supererogation on the part of an author, since it is that portion of a work seldom or ever looked into, still, as custom demands the form, and there may be some among my readers who may desire to learn what first led me to undertake this work, I am induced to follow the fashion, more especially as on one or two points I am desirous of offering a few words of comment and explanation.

Not being a native of the West Indies, and visiting that part of the world for the first time at an age when all looks bright around us, the novelty of the scenes which passed before my eyes struck me forcibly, and induced me to make notes of the impressions I then received. Pursuing the same practice at subsequent visits, and during prolonged residences, in process of time my memoranda expanded to a considerable bulk. The increasing interest I took in everything relating to Antigua, led me to inquire into its early history, and to search out the origin of the numerous ancient families whose descendants have resided in the island from the period of its colonization.

Some of my friends in the island who had become acquainted with my pursuits, were gratified by the specimens of my labours, which were exhibited to them, and urged me to throw my scattered notes into form. I yielded to their solicitations, and the result has been the following pages, which, while they afford a condensed history of the colony from its earliest days, present also a record of the impressions produced on one, at first, fresh from English society, but now, by long continued residence, become almost an Antiguan; having, it is hoped, lost all relics of English prejudice, but not become so biassed by her new connexions, or blinded by the many charms of Antigua or Antiguan society, as to hold the scales of justice unevenly.

Having been resident in Antigua both before and after the passing of the Emancipation Act, and having had ample opportunity of judging of the practical effects of that memorable event, the observations I have made with relation to it may not be considered altogether unimportant.

In perusing the early history of the colony, the English reader may be surprised to find how many men of family became early settlers in the West Indies; but when the eager spirit of adventure which immediately followed the enterprises of the Spaniards, and was so eminently conspicuous in the days of Elizabeth, is called to mind​—​when the causes which drove the “pilgrim fathers” forth are recollected, together with the numerous emigrations which took place from England, when the Royalists, in their turn forced to become fugitives, mostly sought a refuge in the West Indies, at first a safe and sanctioned asylum, till the very amount of the fresh influx of Royalist opinions made the West Indies a thorn in Cromwell’s side, and compelled him to have recourse to strong measures to secure their obedience to his will,​—​when all these causes are considered, it becomes no longer a matter of wonder that much of the best blood of England runs in the veins of the people, not only of Antigua, but of the West India islands generally.

In justice to the character of the country which I have learned to love, I must, although unwillingly, notice another and a most painful subject. I refer to the exceedingly harsh laws passed respecting the slaves, and the shocking executions of those concerned in the insurrection in 1736. In relation to the former point, it is sufficient to observe that such laws are almost inseparable from the institution of slavery itself, and that the stigma affected the mother country equally with her colonies, while it redounds to the honour of Antigua that she was the first to announce unbounded freedom to her slave population. With respect to the barbarous executions, they would not be tolerated in Antigua at the present day, even had she continued to be a slave-dealing colony; and they can only in justice be referred to a state of society when the practice of torture had hardly fallen into desuetude in the civil courts of Europe, when the Inquisition was in full glory, when, only a few years before, the politest capital in the world had looked unmoved on

“Luke’s iron crown, and Damien’s bed of steel,”

and criminals continued to be strung up by dozens in England (and for many long years after) for offences which, in the present advanced state of society, no civilized state would visit with the punishment of death. What wonder, then, that at such a period, and under such alarming circumstances, the Antiguans should have shewn themselves cruel and barbarous?

Before I conclude, I must not omit to tender my acknowledgments to the numerous friends who have kindly afforded me assistance in the course of my work, among whom let me make grateful mention of Edward S. Byam, Esq., the Rev. and Hon. Burgh Byam, Col. Byam, Dr. Furgusson, Nathaniel Humphreys, Esq., Deputy Colonial Secretary in Antigua, (to which latter gentleman I was indebted for access to the Records of the island,) to John Furlong, Esq., (who obliged me with the will of Governor Parke,) Registrar of Antigua, to ——— Edmead, Esq., to Captain George B. Mathew, of the Guards, the Rev. D. F. Warner, and others.

In conclusion, may the Great Giver of all good pour down His choicest blessings upon this beautiful and favoured little island; may her legislators be ably endowed in all true principles of jurisprudence; may her planters be blest with kindly showers, so that their golden canes may raise their “tall plumes” in luxuriance; may her merchants, the prop of every civilized state, be prosperous​—​her peasantry happy and good, as they are free; and, finally, may her ministers (of every denomination) be long spared to watch over and pray for her teeming inhabitants, that one choral song of praise may resound from every quarter and from every tongue.

The Author.

CONTENTS
OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.

CHAPTER I.

General Description of the Island​—​Appearance​—​Soil​—​Productions​—​Climate​—​Early history​—​Discovery by Columbus​—​Attempted settlement by Spaniards​—​Grant to Earl of Carlisle​—​Settlement by d’Esnambuc​—​Williams​—​Governor Warner​—​Account of Sir Thomas Warner, founder of the family

CHAPTER II.

History of the island continued​—​Sir Henry Hunks​—​Descent of the Caribs​—​Legend of Ding-a-ding Nook​—​Arrival of the Ship Nonsuch​—​Sir Thomas Modiford​—​Earl of Warwick, Captain-General​—​Captain Edward Warner​—​Colonel Rich​—​Colonel Lake​—​Mr. Everard​—​Sir George Ayscue​—​Colonel Christopher Reynall​—​Invasion by the Caribs​—​Dissensions among the inhabitants​—​Copy of Colonel Reynall’s letter to Cromwell​—​Attack upon St. Domingo and Jamaica​—​Major-General Poyntz​—​Grant of Antigua to Lord F. Willoughby

CHAPTER III.

Rupture between France and England​—​War in the West Indies​—​Loss of Lord Francis Willoughby​—​Colonel Carden​—​Capture of Antigua by the French forces under M. de la Barre​—​Colonel Fitche​—​Restoration of Antigua by the Treaty of Breda​—​Death of Colonel Carden​—​Biographical notices

CHAPTER IV.

Governors: Lord William Willoughby, Henry Willoughby​—​Arrival of Major, afterwards Lieutenant-General Byam, the progenitor of the family of that name​—​Biographical remarks​—​Partition of the Caribbee Islands​—​Sir William Stapleton​—​General Council and Assembly​—​Colonel Philip Warner​—​Expedition against the Caribs​—​Death of Indian Warner​—​Arrest and trial of Colonel P. Warner​—​Acquittal​—​Dampier’s account of this affair​—​Captain Southey’s History of the Indian Warner

CHAPTER V.

Governor Col. R. Williams​—​Biographical remarks​—​Towns of trade appointed​—​Antigua divided into parishes​—​Sir Nathaniel Johnson appointed captain-general and governor-in-chief​—​Colonel Codrington​—​Remarks upon this family​—​Invasion of Antigua by a French privateer​—​Attack upon Guadeloupe by the English​—​Expedition to St. Christopher’s​—​Gallant conduct of Colonel Williams and Colonel Willoughby Byam​—​Sir Francis Wheeler’s expedition​—​Wilmot and Lillingston’s expedition​—​Death of the captain-general, General Codrington​—​Colonel John Yeamans, lieutenant-governor​—​Arrival of Admiral Benbow

CHAPTER VI.

Governor Colonel Christopher Codrington​—​Establishment of the first market​—​Accession of Queen Anne​—​Arrival of Admiral Benbow​—​Attack upon the island of Guadaloupe, in conjunction with the Antiguan troops​—​Bravery of Colonel Edward Byam​—​Arrival of Captain Hovenden Walker​—​Second attack upon Guadaloupe​—​Colonel Codrington quits the government​—​His death​—​Sir William Mathew​—​Hon. John Johnson

CHAPTER VII.

Governor Colonel Daniel Parke​—​His birth-place and parentage​—​His actions at the battle of Holchet and Blenheim​—​His arrival at Antigua​—​Dissensions with the Antiguans​—​Complaints against him sent to England​—​Results of the applications at the court of Queen Anne​—​Tyrannical behaviour of Colonel Parke​—​Events of the 7th December, 1710​—​Death of Colonel Parke

CHAPTER VIII.

Governor Walter Hamilton​—​Walter Douglas’s Disturbances​—​Complaints against him sent to England​—​Queen Anne recalls him, and reappoints Walter Hamilton​—​Lord Viscount Lowther​—​John Hart​—​Lord Londonderry​—​Lord Forbes​—​Colonel William Crosbie

CHAPTER IX.

Governor William Mathew​—​Insurrection of the Negroes​—​A Legend of the Ravine​—​Punishment of the Conspirators

CHAPTER X.

Governor William Mathew​—​Sir George Thomas, Bart.​—​James Verchild​—​Honourable William Woodley​—​Sir Ralph Payne​—​Hon. Craister Greathead​—​General Burt​—​The circumstances of his death​—​Sir Thomas Shirley, Bart.

CHAPTER XI.

Governors: William Woodley​—​John Stanley​—​Major-General Charles Leigh​—​Archibald Esdail​—​John S. Thomas​—​Robert Thomson

CHAPTER XII.

Governors: The Right Honourable Ralph Lord Lavington​—​William Woodley​—​James Tyson​—​John Julius​—​Hugh Elliot​—​Sir James Leith​—​Henry Rawlins​—​S. Rawlins​—​Major-General Ramsay

CHAPTER XIII.

Governors: Sir Benjamin D’Urban​—​Sir Patrick Ross​—​Sir Evan Murray McGregor​—​Mr. Light​—​Sir W. G. MacBean Colebrooke​—​Major McPhail​—​Sir Charles Augustus Fitzroy

CHAPTER XIV.

My first voyage to Antigua​—​Visit upon deck​—​The booby’s welcome​—​Nearer approach​—​Harbour of St. John’s​—​The Black Pilot​—​North Sandy Island​—​Wreck of the mail-boat​—​Dangerous navigation​—​Long Island​—​South Sandy Island​—​Panoramic views from the vessel’s deck​—​Light winds​—​Disappointment made pleasing​—​Anchorage for the night

CHAPTER XV.

The extent of Antigua​—​Opinion of some planters​—​Want of agricultural labourers​—​Emigration not always profitable to the negroes​—​“Seizar’s” letter upon the subject​—​Return of emigrants​—​Soil of Antigua​—​Geological matters​—​Petrifactions​—​Climate of Antigua​—​“Yellow fever”​—​Beautiful evenings​—​the appearance of the heavens​—​Evening visitants

CHAPTER XVI.

Scenery of Antigua​—​Pilgrimage to “Tom Moore’s Spring”​—​The Goddess Mnemosyne​—​Fig-Tree Hill​—​The “Bower of Bliss”​—​“Old Road”​—​The Strand​—​The cross sexton​—​The parochial school​—​Old Road Church​—​Tomb of Col. Williams​—​Moravian settlement​—​Salt ponds​—​Copses​—​“Crab Hill”​—​Sandy Valley​—​The Valley Church​—​The rising moon​—​Arrival in town​—​Night, and night dreams

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

CHAPTER XVIII.

Description of the town of St. John’s, the capital of Antigua​—​Situation​—​Arrangement of the streets​—​Hucksters​—​Houses​—​Springs​—​Small shops​—​Stores of the retail dealers​—​Grog-shops​—​Merchants’ stores and lumber yards​—​Definition of lumber​—​Auction sales​—​Scotch Row and Scotchmen​—​Incongruous display of goods​—​Fire in 1797​—​Ruins​—​Fire in 1841​—​Its devastations

CHAPTER XIX.

Description of the church of St John’s​—​Period of its erection​—​Present site​—​Panoramic views​—​Form of structure​—​Length and breadth​—​Interior​—​Decorations​—​Monuments​—​Organ​—​Tower​—​Bells​—​Clock​—​Churchyard​—​Tombs and sepulchral inscriptions​—​An acrostic​—​“Adam and Eve!”

CHAPTER XX.

Court-house​—​Bazaar​—​Arsenal​—​Police-office​—​Government-house​—​Barracks​—​House of correction​—​Gaol​—​Methodist chapel​—​Methodism, its rise and progress in Antigua​—​Moravian chapel​—​Rise and progress of the Society of United Brethren​—​Scotch kirk

CHAPTER XXI.

Morning​—​Institutions​—​Daily Meal Society​—​Its rise and progress​—​Lazaretto​—​Destitute Females’ Friend Society​—​Its origin and purpose​—​Friendly Societies​—​Bible Society​—​Missionary associations​—​Temperance Society​—​Juvenile Association​—​Ladies’ Clothing Society &c.​—​Banks​—​Library Society

CHAPTER XXII.

Early rising and “Jamie Thomson”​—​Journey to English Harbour​—​Windmills and Don Quixote​—​Groups of negroes and their equipages​—​All Saints’ chapel of ease​—​The “Hamlet”​—​Village of Liberta​—​Grace Hill​—​Patterson’s and Prince William​—​English Harbour market​—​Streets and dwellings​—​Commissariat’s store and government tank​—​Dockyard​—​The superintendent​—​Stores and storehouses​—​Engineer’s workshop​—​Blacksmith’s shop and blowing machine​—​Limes and roses​—​Recollections of England​—​Lieutenant Peterson and Lord Camelford​—​His lordship’s pranks​—​The ordnance​—​Clarence House and Dows Hill​—​The Ridge and “Shirley heights”​—​Fort Charlotte and Fort Berkeley​—​Bats Cave​—​The Savannah and its tombs​—​Indian Creek​—​Return to town

CHAPTER XXIII.

Zulmiera, the Half-Carib girl, a Legend of the Savannah

CHAPTER XXIV.

Continuation of the Legend

CHAPTER XXV.

Conclusion of the Legend

CHAPTER XXVI.

Towns: Falmouth​—​Church and churchyard​—​Mangroves and acacias​—​Black’s Point​—​Bridgetown​—​Willoughby Bay​—​Its site and decoration​—​The superintendent of the Wesleyan schools​—​School-room​—​Methodist chapel​—​The Memoras​—​St Philip’s church​—​Beautiful views​—​Parham​—​Its derivation and site​—​St Peter’s church​—​Churchyard​—​The new church​—​Methodist chapel and school-room

CHAPTER XXVII.

Forts and fortifications​—​Temporary ones​—​The present forts​—​Fort James​—​Its situation and approach​—​Rat Island Battery, its appellation, lunatic asylum, and flag-staff​—​Goat Hill​—​Steep ascent​—​Schools in St. John’s

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Remarks upon the aboriginal Americans​—​Suppositions of various authors​—​Caribs​—​Arrowawks​—​Ferocity of the Carib​—​Complexion​—​Dress​—​Ornaments​—​Dreadful revenge​—​Wars-Chiefs​—​Severities practised​—​Feasts​—​Remarks upon paganism​—​Anthropophagi​—​A traveller’s tale​—​The Carib’s opinion of death​—​Religious tenets​—​Altars​—​The burning Carib

ERRATA.

[Transcriber’s Note: these errata have been incorporated.]

Page 4, line 8 from top, for “D’Escambue,” read “D’Esnambuc.”

— 20, line 7 from bottom, for “Parhan,” read “Parham.”

— 89, line 3 from top, for “Mathews,” read “Mathew.”

— 249, line 13 from top, for “Hernhult,” read “Herrnhutt.”

— 266, line 3 from bottom, for “Sheltic,” read “Sheltie.”

SUBSCRIBERS.

Members of Council

Members of the House of Assembly, &c.

St. Christopher’s.

England.

ANTIGUA AND THE ANTIGUANS,
ETC.

CHAPTER I.

General Description of the Island​—​Appearance​—​Soil​—​Productions​—​Climate​—​Early history​—​Discovery by Columbus​—​Attempted settlement by Spaniards​—​Grant to Earl of Carlisle​—​Settlement by d’Esnambuc​—​Williams​—​Governor Warner​—​Account of Sir Thomas Warner, founder of the family.

The Island of Antigua, one of the great Antilles, is situated in the Caribbean Sea, about twenty-five miles to the north-east of Montserrat, and forty miles north of Guadaloupe, in latitude seventeen degrees north, and longitude sixty-two degrees, or thereabouts, the measurement in these respects not being more exact than those of its length and breadth, which are variously stated at 21, 20, and 18 miles for its length, and 21, 20, and 17, for its breadth. The lower estimate is, however, most probably correct. Its circumference, again, is variously stated at from 50 to 80 miles, and its total area from 59,838 acres, to 108 square miles, or nearly 70,000 acres. The population in 1837, consisted of 2000 whites and coloured people, and 33,000 blacks. All the slaves in the island were enfranchised in 1834.

The island is of an oval shape. On the first approach the coast appears rough and barren, but as the voyager draws nearer, hills and valleys open on his view, and the shore puts on an appearance of luxuriant vegetation. The country possesses little of a mountainous character, the highest elevation reaching only to the height of 1210 feet above the level of the sea. The soil varies according to the situation; that of the valleys and low lands consisting of a rich, black mould, on a substratum of clay; and unless in seasons of excessive drought, to which this island is peculiarly subject, remarkably productive. The soil of the high lands, on the other hand, is a stiff, reddish clay, on a substratum of marl, and is much less productive, abounding, as it does, with a species of grass extremely difficult to extirpate; and the increase of which has even caused some lands, formerly cultivated, to be abandoned. With the exception of such tracts, and of a small part totally unimprovable, the whole island may be said to be under cultivation. The staple production is sugar; a little cotton is cultivated; but all other articles of commerce, with the exception of sugar, are neglected. The quantities of ground provisions, as yams, eddoes, sweet potatoes, &c., grown in favourable seasons, is very considerable.

The most remarkable circumstance connected with Antigua is the want of fresh-water springs, there being but two or three of them, wholly inadequate to the wants of the population. This want is supplied by tanks, in which the rain water is preserved, and found to be particularly wholesome and agreeable, being light and pleasing to the palate.

The climate is remarkable for want of moisture, although the average fall of rain is forty-five inches. It is considered one of the most healthy in the West Indies.

The history of Antigua may be said to commence with its discovery by Columbus, for although it was at that period, and subsequently, frequented by the Caribs, they appear not to have made it a place of permanent residence; the want of water, which caused European settlers so long to neglect the island, deterring them also from establishing themselves upon it. For an account of the Caribs, and of their probable origin, the reader is referred to the chapters devoted to that interesting subject; and we shall now proceed to the history of the settlement of the island and of its internal administration down to the present time, reserving for future chapters those sketches of the island, and its inhabitants, which are the result of personal experience.

It was not until his second voyage, in the year 1493, that Columbus discovered Antigua. He landed with a party, but finding, on examination, that it was peopled only by a few Caribs, who possessed nothing that was serviceable to the Spaniards, and who were, probably, only casual visitants, and that the island was destitute of fresh water, he contented himself with giving it a name, Antigua, from the church of St. Mary of Antigua, at Seville, and abandoned it. There is a tradition that the name given to the island by the natives was “Xaymaca,” signifying the “land of springs;” but whether this “lucus a non lucendo” was a specimen of Caribbean wit, or, more probably, arose from a mistake on the part of the European visitants, is uncertain.

Antigua remained neglected by all the various European adventurers, who hastened in crowds to other more favoured spots, until the year 1520, when a small party of Spaniards, under the Licentiate Don Antonio Serrano, who had received letters-patent from the King of Spain to colonize Antigua, Montserrat, Barbadu, Deseada, Dominica, and Martinique, landed, and driving off the few Caribs they found there, attempted to establish themselves; but after a short stay they abandoned it, and the island remained without a European claimant until the year 1627, when the Earl of Carlisle obtained a grant of Barbados, Antigua, and the rest of the Leeward Islands, from Charles I. This grant was opposed by the Earl of Marlborough, on the plea of a prior grant from James I., which was, however, eventually compromised, and the Earl of Carlisle was recognised as the sole proprietor. He, however, contented himself with settling Barbados; and although Antigua was colonized in his lifetime, yet neither he nor his son, who died without issue in 1660, and in whom the family honours became extinct, appear to have ever interested themselves in Antigua, or to have exercised any rights of ownership or property. In fact, the first permanent occupation of the island appears to have been a mere private speculation, and to have excited little notice or inquiry, since it is still a question who was the first actual settler.

In the year 1629, Mons. d’Esnambuc, the captain of a French privateer, made an attempt at a settlement, but the want of water drove him away after a very short stay; so short, indeed, that although a party of English settlers seem to have been upon the island, he did not remain long enough to discover them. The assertion, however, that English colonists were then on the island, rests solely on a tradition that William Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, who interested himself greatly in the colonization of the West Indies, sent out his friend and countryman, Mr. Williams, (the father of Colonel Rowland Williams, renowned in Antiguan story, as having been the first white child born on the island,) to attempt a settlement in Antigua. As Lord Pembroke died in April 1630, it does not appear probable that Mr. Williams’ settlement was later than 1629. If he were not the first, there is no doubt he was one of the first settlers, and an estate at Old Road, still in possession of his descendant, is pointed out as the spot he made choice of for his residence, which, as it is in the neighbourhood of the best spring in the island, now known as “Tom Moore’s Spring,” is extremely likely to have been the case. A fact that strengthens the probability of Mr. Williams being the first settler is, that Mr. Warner, who unquestionably conducted a party to Antigua from St. Kitts, in 1632, fixed his residence near the same spot, which it is natural he should do, for the sake of companionship, but built a cistern, whose ruins are still to be seen in the savannah, which he need not have done, had not the scanty spring been already appropriated.

In the year 1632, General Sir Thomas Warner, at that time, by the sanction of the Earl of Carlisle, the legal proprietor, and, under warrant from the king, Governor of St. Christopher, Nevis, Barbados, and Montserrat, sent his son Edward, a captain in the army, with a sufficient party, to colonize Antigua, which design he carried into effect, and during the remainder of his life continued to act as governor, although we have discovered no evidence of his having ever possessed, either as principal or deputy, any warrant for assuming the title, or executing the functions of governor, except so far as his father, as agent for the Earl of Carlisle, the lord proprietor of the island, might be considered as vested with authority; for in his commission from the crown, no mention is made of Antigua.

The name of Warner being thus distinguished in the annals of Antigua, we may be excused for making a digression upon the history of its founder, more especially as it affords a good illustration of the process of colonization in our West Indian and American possessions.

General Sir Thomas Warner was a scion of an ancient and distinguished English family; but from being a younger son, he was obliged to use personal efforts, in order to effect an honourable passage through life. Having entered into the army at an early age, and attained the rank of captain, he accompanied Roger North, brother of Lord North, in his expedition to Guiana, a country which was then looked upon as a perfect Eldorado. Here he became acquainted with a Captain Painton, a great navigator of those times, and one who had well studied the then all-engrossing subject of colonization.

This gentleman suggested to Captain Warner how much more facility would attend a settlement in one of the smaller islands, than in a country so extensive as Guiana; and from his own personal experience, he thought St. Christopher’s (at that time unoccupied by any European power) would be an island particularly adapted for the exercise of a daring spirit, in the way of planting a settlement.

These suggestions of his friend appear to have made due impression upon the mind of Mr. Warner; for in 1620, after the death of Captain Painton, he resolved to return to England, and endeavour to procure the aid of some kindred spirit, in order to put his designs into execution. Having so far succeeded in his plans as to procure all necessary arrangements for establishing a colony, Mr. Warner again left England, accompanied by his wife and son, Edward, (who was a captain in the army at the early age of thirteen, and who was afterwards appointed first governor of Antigua,) and a small party of followers,^[1] and embarked on board a vessel bound for Virginia, whence himself and party proceeded to St. Christopher’s, where they arrived 28th January, 1623. Mr. Warner, as head of the settlers, commenced immediately the task of cultivation, in which he so far progressed as to raise a crop of tobacco, which was unfortunately destroyed in the severe hurricane of the 19th of the following September.

During this period, the movements of the English were diligently observed by the Caribs, who, instigated by three Frenchmen, (supposed to have been cast upon the island by a former storm,) at length made an outbreak upon the English, and retarded in some measure their work of cultivation.

By the end of the following February, Mr. Warner had another crop of tobacco ready for exportation; and the ship Hopewell (commanded by Captain Jefferson) arriving on the 4th March, 1624, from London, bringing fresh supplies for the infant colony, a few emigrants, and goods with which to trade with the Caribs, Mr. Warner resolved to return in her to England, in order to obtain more powerful assistance. He accordingly embarked himself and his first-gathered crop on board the “Hopewell,” and once more sought the shores of England, to receive the congratulations of his friends, and search for a patron who would enable him to carry out further his plans of colonization.

Between that period and 1625, Mr. Warner was employed in voyaging backwards and forwards from St. Christopher’s and England, leaving the cares of the government to his son, Edward Warner, (of whom Du Tertre speaks very handsomely,) until, having gained a friend and patron in the Earl of Carlisle, he was introduced at the court of the then reigning sovereign, Charles I. This monarch was so pleased with Mr. Warner’s indefatigable and patriotic spirit, that he was graciously pleased to grant him a commission, (signed 13th Sept. 1625,) constituting him governor over the “foure islands of St. Christopher’s, Nevis, Barbados, and Mountserrate,”^[2] and on the 21st September, 1629, knighted him at Hampton Court Palace.^[3]

Some of Sir Thomas Warner’s descendants have filled the highest situations in Antigua, administering the government at times. Nor is the family extinct, for many there are who can trace their descent in a direct line from this great founder of four flourishing colonies. One of these was in 1838 “gathered to his fathers;” he was esteemed as an able legislator, and fulfilled his duties as president of the council, brigadier-general of the militia, and occasionally lieutenant-governor, with integrity. As this family ranks among the first aristocrats of the island, a more particular account of their lineal descent may not be deemed superfluous, and will be found in the Appendix, No. 2.

CHAPTER II.

History of the island continued​—​Sir Henry Hunks​—​Descent of the Caribs​—​Legend of Ding-a-ding Nook​—​Arrival of the Ship Nonsuch​—​Sir Thomas Modiford​—​Earl of Warwick, Captain-General​—​Captain Edward Warner​—​Colonel Rich​—​Colonel Lake​—​Mr. Everard​—​Sir George Ayscue​—​Colonel Christopher Reynall​—​Invasion by the Caribs​—​Dissensions among the inhabitants​—​Copy of Colonel Reynall’s letter to Cromwell​—​Attack upon St. Domingo and Jamaica​—​Major-General Poyntz​—​Grant of Antigua to Lord F. Willoughby.

We will now return to the history of Antigua, which we shall hereafter pursue, as closely as possible, in chronological order.

In 1639, Sir Henry Hunks paid Antigua a visit. This gentleman (who was nephew to Lord Conway, Secretary of State) was the first governor of Barbados with a regular commission; but upon his arrival at that colony, Henry Hawley, the then acting commander-in-chief, would not resign the government, and raised so formidable a party, that Sir Henry Hunks quietly retired to Antigua, where he remained from June to December; at which latter period, he was installed in his government, according to the instructions which he received from England.

In 1640, the English settlers were disturbed in their possessions at Antigua by the Caribs, who made a descent upon the island, pillaging it, and destroying everything that fell in their way. After many lives being lost on both sides, the English were enabled to repel their invaders; who, however, succeeded in carrying away the governor’s wife and her two children. It is maintained by some authors, that the after fate of this unfortunate woman was not known; but that everything the worst might be imagined from the character of the Caribs, goaded on as they were by the loss of their country.

There is, however, a tradition still extant in Antigua, which most probably relates to this catastrophe. In the first years of this island becoming an English colony, it was, of course, but thinly peopled by Europeans, and consequently there was but little force to repel any invasion. Parties of Caribs from the different islands, particularly Dominica, used frequently to land upon it, and distress the inhabitants. In these invasions, no mercy was shewn, no quarter given, to the unhappy people who fell in their power, and after a combat, numerous were the bodies left upon the field of battle. Armed with their massive clubs and sharp spears, at the end of which was inserted a fish-bone, dipped in the poisonous juice of the lianas or the manchineel, the Caribs were no mean foes. No sooner had they set fire to a cluster of houses, or destroyed a field of tobacco, the chief production of the island in those days, than they immediately flew to their canoes, which were so fast in sailing, that before the alarm had subsided in one part, they were burning and plundering in another.^[4] At that period, the house where the governor resided was situated near Falmouth Bay; and in the village itself the principal of the English settlers lived. Government House, from its situation, was particularly open to the attacks of the Caribs; and here the first part of the scene took place, which gave rise to

The Legend of Ding-a-ding Nook.^[5]

It was night. The wind, which had been blowing rather hard during the day, as evening drew in, gradually sank, until about midnight, the time when the legend opens, it was a dead calm. Nothing was to be heard but the dull moaning of the waves, as they broke heavily upon the beach, or, now and then, the distant bark of a dog from the houses of the settlers, which, with the natural fidelity of that animal, had followed his master to these sunny islands, when he came in search of that fortune which his native land denied him.

The family of the governor consisted of himself, his young and beautiful wife, two lovely children, and his numerous domestics. At an early period of this evening, his lady, with the warm solicitude of a mother’s love, had seen her infants safely deposited in their cot; and with a mother’s prayer for their happiness upon her lips, watched beside them until the deepening rose upon their cheeks, and their measured breathings, shewed that they slept the quiet sleep of childhood.

Hours rolled on, and all beneath that roof sought their resting-place​—​all but the governor’s wife were quickly in the arms of sleep. As if some “spirit of the night” had whispered a hint of the sufferings she was fated to endure, an irresistible feeling of melancholy hung over her. Sleep she could not; and to allay the fever of her brow, she arose from her couch, and throwing her robe around her, she opened the lattice. The scene she looked upon was wild but beautiful. Dark masses of clouds still hung about the heavens, and strove to hide the beams of the rising moon; but she, “fair Cynthia,” kept on her way in peerless majesty, and shed on every object her mellowed light. The simple houses of the English were visible amid the trees; above which the stately cocoa-nut reared its head, its long pendant branches perfectly motionless. On one side, the bay of Falmouth lay stretched before the eye of the gazer, every snow-crested wave of which could be counted; and on the other were the dark mountains, except in the opening of the bay, where nothing was to be seen but an extent of waters.

Long did that beautiful lady gaze upon this scene: many thoughts did its loveliness conjure up​—​thoughts of her native land, its verdant hills and spangled dells, and all its towering cities. Present objects were fast fading away, when a splash of the waters was heard, and as her eye sought the ocean, a swift-gliding canoe came in sight. At this moment, the moon, which had been lately obscured, shone out with redoubled brightness, and she could plainly discover that the canoe contained about twenty armed men, and was quickly followed by another, with even more than that number. Who could these strangers be? was the first thought; and what their business at such an hour? Were they Caribs? And one more glance at their wild forms, and the dreadful truth rushed across her mind, that they were coming to storm the house. Soon she awoke her husband, and told him her fears; the domestics were aroused and armed, and the house put into a posture of defence.

The canoes were now no longer to be seen; and even the lady was inclined to ask, Could it be one of those wild vagaries of the imagination? when suddenly the war-cry was heard, and, with dreadful imprecations, a party of Caribs bounded into sight. Terrible was the fight that succeeded, and many a corse strewed the ground. At length the Caribs were obliged to retreat; but, alas! they carried with them all that was dear to the governor​—​his wife and children. The Caribs, hotly pursued, made for the place where they had directed their canoes to wait, under the charge of some of their friends, dragging the unhappy lady and her two babies with them. Frightened by the wild looks of the Indians, and suddenly awakened from its slumbers, one of the little innocents commenced crying bitterly, which its distressed mother, at the command of her conquerors, vainly endeavoured to still. After walking, or rather running, for some distance, they had almost reached the sea-side, when one of the Caribs, more ferocious than the rest, and thinking that the cries of the child would perhaps lead their pursuers to the spot, caught the baby by the feet, and swinging it around his head, at one blow dashed out its brains upon a neighbouring rock.^[6] This deed committed in sight of its parent, the lady and her remaining child were rudely hurried on, until, the beach gained, they were thrown into one of the canoes; and the whole party embarking, they pushed out into the ocean.

The governor, finding they had escaped, proceeded on board an armed vessel, and immediately sailed in pursuit of the enemy. The morning that succeeded that disastrous night was one of West Indian beauty; not a vapour was abroad; the sky was one deep, lovely blue, and the sea looked like fluid light. Seated upon the high poop, anxiously did the governor scan the waters in hopes of seeing the canoes; but nothing met his eye​—​not even a speck appeared to raise his hopes. Hour after hour passed away, but no sight of the fugitives; night drew on, and the breeze died away; the sails flapping heavily against the mast bespoke another calm. How tedious seemed those hours of darkness​—​how fervently was the morning wished for; but just before dawn the wind sprung up, and soon after the mountains of Dominica appeared in sight. Slowly but surely the vessel glided on, every eye watching for some trace of the lost ones, when, in the opening of a little bay, two empty canoes were discovered. Could these be the same they were in quest of? was the anxious query; and if so, where could their owners be? Orders were given to let go the anchor, and prepare the boats; and in a short time the governor and his party, all well armed, were landed upon the beach.

A beaten path led up to the mountains, and it was determined to pursue it in hopes of it leading to some dwelling, where they might obtain information. As it proceeded, however, it became more and more intricate, guava bushes, aloes, and the prickly pear, grew thickly together, while different species of parasites conspired to render the path more impervious. In some places it was almost obstructed by these various bushes, interspersed with larger trees, so that the companions of the governor were for returning, supposing no one could have passed that way lately. But he was determined to proceed a little further; and had just stretched out his hand to sever with his sword the overhanging boughs of an acacia, when suddenly he made a start, his heart beat almost to bursting, and, unable to speak, he pointed to his amazed followers a portion of white taffeta hanging to one of its sharp thorns. This, he felt assured, must have been torn from the robe of his wife; and, consequently, that was the road her conquerors must have carried her. Upon further search among the rank and tangled grass, in hopes of discovering prints of footsteps, marks of blood were observed. These led to further inquiries. Could they have murdered her there? But no; had such been the case, greater quantities of blood would have marked the deed. Perhaps she might have been wounded, and placed in some concealment near. Again they proceeded, guided by the drops of blood, until, coming to an abrupt turn of the path, about a dozen Caribs’ huts lay stretched before them, and their fierce inmates lolling around the open doors.

In less than a minute all was confusion. Confident that this was the party who had stolen his wife, the governor rushed upon them furious with passion. Nothing could resist his power; Carib after Carib lay stretched by the prowess of his arm; and springing over his prostrate foes, the anxious husband entered the principal hut, which he had observed was carefully guarded throughout the fray. A well-known voice called his name, an infant’s cry of joy saluted his ear, and, bursting open an inner door, his weeping wife was in his arms, and his darling child clinging around his knees. It took but little time to quit that spot, and retrace the mountain path. The drops of blood he had seen were occasioned by his wife’s shoe coming off, and the rugged ascent cutting her tender feet, upon her journey to the Caribs’ huts. The boat was quickly gained, and in a few minutes they reached the ship, and, unfurling the sails, they sought the shores of Antigua, where they arrived in safety.

Hitherto all was well. Happy in again seeing her husband, and knowing herself and child were safe, that lady still took comfort, although mourning the untimely fate of her other darling. But this did not last long. Other thoughts arose in her husband’s breast​—​thoughts too horrible to mention.

“Oh! what dreadful minutes tells he o’er,
Who dotes, still doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves.”

In vain his poor unhappy wife protested she was pure.

“Jealousy is a green-eyed monster,
That doth mock the food it feeds upon;”

and by its whispers drove him, who was the affectionate friend and protector, to be the harsh and implacable tyrant. No longer enjoying the society of his wife, he determined to get rid of her; and for this purpose built a keep in Ding-a-Ding Nook, and, conveying his wife hither, left her to wear away her life in hopeless misery.

This is the legend; and well might that Nook be selected for such a place of seclusion, for it is a valley completely shut in by the surrounding mountains, and open only to the sea. I have heard another version of this story, which says, the governor and his lady parted by mutual consent, and that it was her wish to have a house built in that spot. Surely, if this was the case, she must have had the taste of an anchorite.

Between the period of Mrs. Warner’s abduction and the year 1666, the Caribs carried away the wives and children of many of the respectable settlers. Among them, we find mentioned Mrs. Cardin and children, Mrs. Taylor and children, Mrs. Chrew and children, Mrs. Lynch and children, Mrs. Lee, wife of Captain Lee, and many other females. Mrs. Lee was detained prisoner for three years, after the Caribs had murdered her husband, and many other Englishmen, the truth of which is attested by the following extract from a letter written by J. Daniel, auditor-general to the expedition under Pen and Venables, to Oliver Cromwell, lord-protector of England, dated 3rd June, 1655:—​“Mrs. Lee, wife of Captain Lee, was carried away by the Caribs, and kept prisoner three years at Dominica, her husband and many English slaughtered.” This statement immediately dispels the hypothesis (which some writers have entertained) of Captain Lee being the erector of the keep at Ding-a-Ding Nook; and, consequently, fixes more firmly the truth of Mrs. Warner being the heroine of the preceding legend.

To return once more to our chronological record. In 1647, the ship “Nonsuch,” Captain Middleton, owner, arrived at Antigua, which gave the name to Nonsuch Harbour, having anchored in that port. This was one of three vessels which had been fitted out from England by Colonel, afterwards Sir Thomas, Modiford, in order to form a plantation in this island. During the passage, the “Achilles,” the larger vessel of the expedition, of 300 tons burden, William Crowder, owner and master, parted company with the “Nonsuch,” which proceeded to Antigua alone. The “Achilles,” after being out at sea for many weeks, put into Barbados in distress, being infected with a disease which caused great mortality among the men. During Colonel Modiford’s stay at Barbados, it was represented to him how far more advantageous it would be to purchase an estate in that island, already planted, and from which immediate emolument might be derived, than to proceed to an infant colony, where he would have to undergo all the fatigues and privations incident upon establishing a plantation. Colonel Modiford, listening to this advice, purchased the half of an estate for 7000l., an immense sum at that day, and thus constituted himself a Barbados planter, instead of adhering to his first resolution, of becoming a settler of Antigua. Sir Thomas Modiford afterwards removed to the newly-gained English colony of Jamaica, of which island he was appointed governor in 1663, and where he resigned his breath in 1679. The Earl of Warwick had been appointed captain-general of all the West Indies in 1643, but he does not appear to have assumed the command; for, in 1648, after the demise of Sir Thomas Warner, we find Colonel Rich become governor of St. Christopher’s, Colonel Lake^[7] of Nevis, and Colonel Edward Warner of Antigua. How long this latter gentleman retained his situation is uncertain; but, about the year 1651-2, a Mr. Everard is mentioned as holding the government of the leeward West India islands. An official document, however, written in the year 1655, speaks of a gentleman of that name as governor of St. Kitt’s only.

Antigua, among most of the other colonies in this quarter of the globe, refusing to acknowledge the rights of the Protector, Sir George Ayscue was sent with a squadron to reduce them. This island soon yielded to the Commonwealth’s banner, and Colonel Christopher Reynall was appointed governor, instead of the individual who had so daringly withstood the parliamentary power.

In 1654, the Caribs again made a descent upon Antigua; but the English were enabled to repel their invaders, and effect such slaughter among them, that but few escaped to tell the tale. This victory appears to have intimidated the Indians; and for the next two or three years, the island had rest from their relentless invasions. About this period, Antigua was a prey to great dissensions between the governor and the governed. Complaints were forwarded by the inhabitants to Barbados, praying the governor of that island to use his influence in endeavouring to put a stop to their internal distractions. On the other hand, the Governor of Antigua, Colonel Christopher Reynall, wrote to the Lord Protector, imploring his Highness to take the island under his more particular command, and, by his authority, quell the disaffections which had so unfortunately crept in among them. The following letter from the Governor of Antigua, and the extract from one written by Daniel Searle, Esq., Governor of Barbados, are taken from “Thurloe’s State Papers”:—

The extract from Governor Searle’s letter, dated from Barbados, Nov. 7th, 1655, and addressed to Oliver Cromwell, Lord Protector, &c., is as follows:—

In 1665, Antigua joined with Barbados, St. Christopher’s, and Nevis, in levying troops to join the intended expedition of Admiral Pen and General Venables, (of which accounts had been received from England,) in their projected attack upon St. Domingo​—​an island at that period under the power of Spain, but which Cromwell was very desirous of obtaining. From the copy of a State paper, it appears, however, that upon the arrival of the Commonwealth fleet, the Governor of Antigua, Christopher Reynall, represented to the commanders of the expedition, the disastrous state of the island, from the frequent, and particularly the late, molestations of the Caribs;—​a fact so clearly presented to Pen and Venables, that they would not lessen the force of the place, by impressing any of its inhabitants for soldiers. They, therefore, remained only two days at Antigua, during which period they proclaimed the Protector with great pomp; and then proceeded to St. Christopher’s, and the other leeward islands, where they procured a sufficient complement of men. I am sorry, however, that an historian of great fame states, “the troops raised in the West Indies were the most profligate of mankind.”

As Antigua did not eventually join in this expedition, it will be sufficient to remark, that the attack upon St. Domingo was very disastrous; for, although upon the first approach of the English, the Spaniards left their town and fled into the woods, the troops did not follow up their advantage. Venables allowed the soldiers to disembark, without a guide, ten miles from the capital; and, wandering about without any fixed purpose for the space of four days, they gave the Spaniards time to recover themselves from their alarm, and, rushing from their place of concealment, they fell upon the English, who were almost dead with fatigue and hunger, killed six hundred of them, and drove the remainder on board their vessels. In order to atone for their indiscretions, the English commanders resolved to proceed against Jamaica, also under the dominion of Spain, and which island immediately surrendered to the English flag, without a blow being struck in its defence. Colonel Doyly being appointed governor of the new gained colony, with about 3000 land forces under his command, and a fleet of men-of-war under Vice-Admiral Goodson, Pen and Venables prepared to return home. Landing the West India troops at their respective islands, the commanders sailed for England; but, upon their arrival, they were both sent to the Tower, for their failure upon St. Domingo, entirely owing to their want of proper conduct as English officers.

Upon the Restoration, Antigua held out for the Commonwealth, as strenuously as in 1651 it had opposed the pretensions of Cromwell, and for this cause, Charles II. appointed Major-General Poyntz, a former deserter from the Parliamentary power, to act as governor, which situation he filled until 1663, when Lord Francis Willoughby, of Parham, obtained a grant of the entire island from Charles II. as a reward for his eminent services in the cause of that monarch; and Major-General Poyntz retired to Virginia. During the period this latter gentleman resided at Antigua as governor, he owned and planted an estate called by him Cassada Garden, a title which it still bears.

CHAPTER III.

Rupture between France and England​—​War in the West Indies​—​Loss of Lord Francis Willoughby​—​Colonel Carden​—​Capture of Antigua by the French forces under M. de la Barre​—​Colonel Fitche​—​Restoration of Antigua by the Treaty of Breda​—​Death of Colonel Carden​—​Biographical notices.

In 1665-6, England was engaged in a contest with Holland, Denmark, and France; and during that period, her colonies in the West Indies suffered greatly, particularly St. Christopher’s and Antigua.

St. Christopher’s being reduced by the French, Lord Francis Willoughby headed an expedition of 2000 troops, and sailed from Barbados (where he was then residing in preference to Antigua) with the hope of recapturing that island. On his passage to St. Christopher’s, he visited Martinique, with the design of surprising the place, and, after taking the French prisoners, to transport them to Antigua, Montserrat, and Nevis. The French, however, having received tidings of his movements, were accordingly prepared; and Lord Willoughby, finding himself baffled in his intentions, sailed for Guadaloupe, where he arrived on the 2nd of August. Before any success was effected against this island, a dreadful hurricane arose, which, raging with extreme violence for the space of twenty-four hours, entirely destroyed the fleet of Lord Willoughby, strewing the coast with its fragments, and every soul perished, with the exception of two seamen.^[8]

Before embarking upon this expedition, this ill-fated nobleman appointed his nephew, Mr. Henry Willoughby, lieutenant-general and governor of these islands, who in his turn constituted Colonel Carden governor of Antigua.

Before the declaration of war between France and England was published, several Frenchmen had left the French colonies, from different motives, and settled in Antigua, where they lived sociably with the English, and prosecuted their respective professions. After the rupture between those nations was known in the West Indies, and the report of the intended attack upon St. Christopher’s by the French, reached the ears of Lord F. Willoughby, he dispatched his nephew, Mr. Henry Willoughby, to the relief of that place. Arriving, however, too late for the action, he was obliged to proceed with his ship to Antigua; and being (according to Du Tertre, the French historian) in “a burning rage” at the failure of his plans, he vented it upon the French settlers whom he found there​—​confiscating their property, forbidding them to quit their houses, or hold communications between themselves, under pain of death, and obliging them to swear allegiance to the English monarch.

“Many of them submitted, in a very cowardly manner,” remarks the above-named quaint author; “but others, whose heart was in a better place, refused to do so.”

Among these French settlers was a young surgeon, of the name of Grand-Maison, who had been formerly valet-de-chambre to M. de la Barre, lieutenant-general by sea and land of the French forces, and who was fully alive to the tyrannical manner in which himself and his countrymen had been treated. Having a little more liberty than the others, from the nature of his profession, Grand-Maison had an opportunity of entering into conversation with another young Frenchman, of the name of Baston, who, says Du Tertre, “was skilful by sea and land, courageous and brave, and an admirer of firmness and constancy.” Finding Grand-Maison entertained the same sentiments as himself, he proposed that they should steal a small shallop, which was attached by an iron chain to a post firmly planted in the beach, and taking advantage of the darkness of the night, effect their escape from the island. As, however, the oars had been carried away by the owner of the boat, they bribed a French carpenter, who was engaged working in some of the back woods of Antigua, to join them in their enterprise, and make them a pair in that retired place.

Grand-Maison, who served a very rich master,^[9] took the charge of bringing a sufficient quantity of provisions from his home; and between them they procured five muskets, a few pairs of pistols, some cutlasses, twenty or thirty pounds of powder, and lead in proportion. But thinking themselves not strong enough to man the shallop, Grand-Maison, who was very much beloved by the negroes, engaged two of them, who were esteemed excellent rowers, to accompany him.

All things being duly prepared, they stole away from their masters by night, hurried to the beach, and the carpenter having sawn in two the post to which the boat was fastened, they departed, and made for Guadaloupe. After struggling manfully against the current and contrary winds for some time, running many risks of their lives, and putting back into Antigua once or twice, they changed their resolution, and made for St. Christopher’s​—​arriving in Cabsterre, a district of that island, at the very time M. de Chambre was on the point of sailing for Martinique, to rejoin M. de la Barre, with all the French ships of war.

M. Sannois, captain of that district, welcomed the adventurers, and treated them very kindly; and upon hearing their story, sent them to M. de St. Laurent, who, after examining them, and finding them well informed of the strength and natural barriers of Antigua​—​and more particularly, as Baston gave him a plan of the coast, shewing the best landing-places, and offered himself as a guide to the troops, to lead them to the place “wherever resistance might be expected,” and to be everywhere “at their head,”​—​he determined to send them with M. de Chambre to M. de la Barre, at Martinique.

Upon their arrival at that island, at counsel was held, and Grand-Maison and Baston introduced, when the latter repeated his offers. The assembly was well pleased with his information and solid reflections; but M. de Chambre represented, that the officers of the French forces were so contented with the conquest of St. Kitts, that he thought they would be unwilling to engage in any new adventure, unless there was an augmentation of the troops. To this objection M. Clodoré, the Governor of Martinique, replied, in such a splendid speech, abounding with so much true martial ardour, that every objection was borne down before him; and M. de Chambre was led to observe, that if M. St. Laurent had heard the powerful arguments brought forward by M. de Clodoré, he would change his opinion, and join in attacking Antigua; and he did not believe M. St. Leon, (the commanding officer,) with his brother officers, would even stand firm in their resolution after hearing him. M. de Chambre then asked M. Clodoré if he would accompany him to St. Christopher’s, to consult with the other officers. M. Clodoré immediately replied he should be most happy to do so, if M. de la Barre would give him such instructions in writing; which being directly complied with, they made sail 25th October, 1666, with seven vessels of war, carrying 166 pieces of cannon, and commanded by M. de la Barre, admiral of the whole fleet; M. de Clodoré, Governor of Martinique; M. du Lion, Governor of Guadaloupe; M. de Chambre, Intendant of the French West Indian Company’s affairs; and attended by 130 men of the regiment of Poictiers, commanded by Sieur d’Orvillier, and two companies of infantry, besides the seamen.

Calling in at Guadaloupe, they held another council of war, in which it was determined to sail for St. Kitt’s; but at the same time to come so near to Antigua as to be able to reconnoitre the island, and ascertain if it would be prudent to attack it before they proceeded to St. Christopher’s.

Leaving Guadaloupe on the 2nd November, they made sail for Antigua, bearing the English flag as a subterfuge, and thinking by that means to deceive the English. Upon reaching Antigua, they endeavoured to get into the harbour of St. John’s; but meeting with contrary winds, they put back and made for Five Islands’ Bay, which at that period was defended by two forts​—​the smaller one (which appears to have been only an artificial mound, without any parapets or any kind of fortifications) mounted with six guns; the larger one (with good stone buildings, and standing in that part now occupied by the batteries of “Goat’s Hill”) mounted with eight guns. The men stationed at the smaller fort had their suspicions first awakened by observing how carefully the French came in, sounding with the lead every moment; and consequently they determined to fire upon them.

To this warm welcome the French replied in such a manner, bringing all their guns to bear upon the place, that the English abandoned the fort, and fled. Arriving abreast of the larger fort, the French anchored at pistol-shot; and the firing was carried on with such vigour, that it was also abandoned, and that with such precipitancy, that the royal flag was left behind.

The signal was now made for a party to land and take possession of the forts, with directions to capture all they could, but not to burn or destroy any part of the country, wisely remarking, according to their own narrator, that “they could do that another time.” These orders for forbearance, if they were ever given, were not attended to; for everything that fell in their way was devastated; and it has been remarked by an old author, that the French robbed the very shoes from off the feet of the inhabitants.^[10]

But to return to the particulars of the attack. The next morning, about four o’clock, M. de Clodoré, &c., attended by 200 men, landed upon the beach, and, guided by Baston, proceeded to the house where the governor, Colonel Carden, then resided, which was situated about a mile and a half from the shore. The English fought with their usual bravery, but were at length overpowered; and Colonel Carden, Colonel Monk, and about thirty other officers, were taken prisoners, and the house burnt to the ground.

The governor, being thus captured, was conveyed on board the admiral’s ship; and the French were so elated with their success, that they determined to push on their good fortune, and endeavour to subdue the whole island. The next day, they again landed at daybreak, attended by 240 men, divided into two companies, and guided by Baston. Reaching a large house situated upon a hill, they dispatched a trumpeter to summon the inhabitants to surrender, among whom was Mrs. Carden, the wife of the governor. This trumpeter carried a letter, written by Colonel Carden, describing how well he was treated(?), and advising them not to wait to the last extremity to surrender, but to do so without delay. To this letter they returned a verbal answer, thanking the French for their polite treatment to their governor, but at the same time intimating, that they were resolved to do their duty, and resist to the last.

Upon receiving this reply, the French commanders prepared for battle, and resolved to storm the house. At first they were repulsed by the English; and the greater part of the regiment of Poictiers, commanded by the Sieur d’Orvillier, being seized with a panic, retreated and concealed themselves in a neighbouring wood; but Mons. de Clodoré, seeing the state of affairs, hurried to the spot, and, being joined by the officers of the regiment and about thirty of the common soldiers, whom they had prevailed upon to leave their concealment, made a second attack upon the house, and succeeded in forcing an entrance.

A battalion of the English making their appearance upon the hill behind the house, M. de Clodoré drew off his men to engage with them, while D’Orvillier and the rest of the party were left in charge of the edifice. Upon entering, they found Colonel Quest (who had taken the command of the island after the seizure of Colonel Carden) seated “in an arm-chair, with a pair of pistols cocked in his hand,” and surrounded by a few brave English. Colonel Quest demanded quarter, to which a Frenchman replied by sending a ball through his body; and the rest of the English who were with him, were slaughtered without mercy.

In justice to M. de Clodoré, it must be remarked, that as soon as he knew of these proceedings, he endeavoured to put a stop to them, and finally saved the lives of about fifty English, who had concealed themselves in another part of the house.

After burning down the edifice, and many others in the vicinity​—​which were described as being very handsome ones​—​killing fifty of the English, and getting all the plunder they could, the French proceeded to the beach, carrying their prisoners, about fifty in number, along with them. Upon arriving there, it was agreed to ship them immediately, and despatch them to St. Kitts, with the wounded Frenchmen, among whom was Baston, the instigator of the attack, and who afterwards died of his wound at that island.^[11] When Colonel Quest was to be carried down to the beach along with the other prisoners, he was found to be so seriously wounded, that he was unable to walk; and consequently, one of the French officers proposed to despatch him, offering to do the deed himself. At this barbarous scheme, M. de Clodoré was justly incensed; and, ordering a few of his soldiers to form a kind of bier, had him carefully conducted on board the ship that was to carry him to St. Kitts, in which island he also died.

After getting rid of their prisoners, the French held another council of war, when it was resolved to send a trumpeter, summoning all the inhabitants to surrender, threatening to set fire to all their property should they demur. A compliance with this demand appears to have been wholly unexpected by the French, and their threat of burning only a species of bravado; for at this council it was resolved, that if the English held out, they would immediately sail for St. Christopher’s with the whole fleet. Fate, however, willed it otherwise, and the trumpeter brought answer back, that the English were willing to accede to their demand, and desired a place to be appointed in which to treat about the terms of capitulation. Overjoyed at their unexpected success, the French named the harbour of St. John’s as the place of treaty; and accordingly despatched one of their frigates​—​the “Armes d’Angleterre,” on board of which the conference was to be held. On the tenth of November, 1666, M. de Clodoré, M. de Chambre, &c. &c., accompanied by four shallops, containing eighty armed men, proceeded on board that vessel, and were quickly joined by Lieut.-Colonel Bastien Baijer, Colonel Buckley, Joseph Lee, Captain Samuel Winthorp,^[12] Captain Philip Warner, and James Halliday, who were appointed by the English to sign the capitulation.

All arms, ammunition, forts, batteries, &c., were to be given up to the French; but the English were to be allowed to retain their property, have free exercise of their religion; (except in that immediate district which the French governor might choose as his quarters;) and Colonel Carden, who had been detained prisoner of war on board one of the enemy’s vessels, was to be restored to liberty.

After signing the capitulation, on the 12th of November, the English deputies despatched Colonel Buckley on board the “Armes d’Angleterre,” with the information that there were three hundred soldiers arrived from Barbados, which would prevent them from fulfilling their part of the treaty; but that if the French thought proper to hazard an attack, they (the deputies) would not interfere.

Upon receiving this message, the greater part of the French officers were for detaining Colonel Buckley as an hostage, as well as refusing to liberate Colonel Carden; but to this M. de Clodoré would not assent, remarking that as he had given his word to restore Colonel Carden to liberty, and Colonel Buckley had come on board under protection of a flag of truce, they should both be conveyed safely to land. This was accordingly done the same day; but Monsieur Giraud, the head commander of St. Kitts, seeing Colonel Buckley on shore, and not being aware of M. de la Barre’s intentions towards him, had him seized and conveyed on board the admiral’s ship; who, being of different opinion to M. de Clodoré, detained him as a hostage; and the whole of the French forces having embarked, the fleet sailed for St. Kitts, where they arrived on the 15th of November.

After remaining there a few days, M. de Clodoré sailed for Martinique to transact some necessary business, and then, accompanied by a fleet of six frigates, returned to Antigua, to oblige the inhabitants to fulfil the treaty they had signed. He arrived on the 30th of November, but found the state of affairs entirely changed, Mr. Willoughby having appointed Colonel Daniel Fitche, (who upon the former visit of the French was staying at Nevis,) governor of Antigua, in place of Colonel Carden, and the island being reinforced by the arrival of some troops from Barbados.

Surprised but not intimidated, M. de Clodoré, with the concurrence of his principal officers, sent a trumpeter to Colonel Carden, calling upon him to fulfil the treaty, and oblige the inhabitants to surrender. This message was received by Colonel Carden in the presence of some of the English officers; but the same night, by the order of Colonel Fitche, (who was displeased at his expressing his opinion, that it was but equitable to stand by their written contract,) he was arrested and sent to prison. Upon this occasion, Mrs. Carden despatched the following letter to M. de Clodoré:—

[N.B.—These letters are literally transcribed.]

Upon the same day, Colonel Carden despatched the following letter to M. de Clodoré:—

Soon after sending this letter, Colonel Carden was liberated, and immediately proceeding on board the French ship, delivered himself up to M. de Clodoré, and informed him that Colonel Fitche and his troops were encamped at Pope’s Head. Upon hearing this, M. de Clodoré immediately weighed anchor, and sailing round the coast, arrived off Pope’s Head the same night. The next morning, the following letters were despatched to him from the English camp:—

Upon receiving these letters, M. de Clodoré held a council with his officers, the results of which were as follow:—

During the period the council was being held, several armed soldiers, (of the English troops,) impatient to know what answer would be returned to their letters, appeared upon the beach; upon which, according to the resolutions already passed, a cannon-ball was fired at them, when they dispersed, and appeared no more, without a white flag in their hand. Before the French council broke up, an English officer came on board, bringing the following letter for M. de Clodoré:—

But paying no regard to this letter, M. de Clodoré wrote them as follows:—

Immediately after sending this letter, M. de Clodoré and Hinscelin landed with the French forces; but, upon gaining the beach, they were met by a party of the English, bearing a flag of truce, and offering, in the name of the inhabitants, to give up all pretensions to this island, provided they would include Governor Fitche in the treaty.

To this proposition M. de Clodoré would not assent, but forming his troops into battle array, marched to attack the English. The result of this encounter appears to me so remarkable, that it obliges me again and again to assure my readers I give the true translation: “marching to attack the new Governor and his eight or nine hundred men, only two shots were fired by the English, one of which wounded their own sentinel, and this was the only blood spilt in this engagement; and Governor Fitche hearing that M. de Clodoré was coming up with all his troops, and four pieces of artillery, ran away in a boat with Colonel Warner and some others, saying to his soldiers only these words​—​“God be with me, and with you.”

Thus have I narrated the reduction of Antigua by the French, following the steps of their own historian, “Du Tertre,” who of course speaks in favour of his own countrymen. Antigua remained a French colony, although of no use to the nation, except from the plunder obtained from it, until the following year, when by the treaty of Breda, Louis XIV. restored it to the English crown.^[19] The French appear to have ever doubted their success; and their attack upon Antigua, in the first instance, seemed only intended as a feint; but by one of those extraordinary accidents, which we often meet with in the annals of nations, the island was reduced, and in the second attack, if we may believe Du Tertre, only two shots were fired in its defence.

At the period of this conquest of Antigua, there were about 800 negroes upon the island, but of these the French could only find about 500, which they carried away with them, along with their plunder. The after fate of Colonel Carden was truly shocking. Soon after the French had abandoned Antigua, a party of Caribs landed, and cruelly treated the defenceless inhabitants. At length they proceeded to the house of the ex-governor, Colonel Carden, who treated them very kindly, and administered to their want. Upon their leaving, they requested their entertainer to accompany them to the beach, who instantly complied; but the Caribs, more treacherous than the wild beasts that haunt the desert, had no sooner reached the place where their canoes were stationed, than they fell upon their kind host, cruelly murdered him, and broiled his head, which they afterwards carried with them to Dominica. Nor were they satisfied with this horrible piece of barbarity; for, to make the tragedy complete, they returned to Colonel Carden’s house, seized his wife and children, and after telling them of the fate of their kind relative, hurried them away into a captivity worse than death.

The Bastian Baijer​—​whose name appears conspicuous in signing the capitulation, and in the after letters which passed between the English and the French​—​was of Dutch extraction, and one who emigrated to this island at an early period of its colonization. He died in London, in the year 1704, and in his will directed that his remains should be interred in the vaults of the Dutch church in Austin Friars, which was accordingly done. Many of the descendants (or rather representatives, for Bastian Baijer died without issue, and left his property to the person who assumed his name) of Bastian Baijer have resided in the island until within a year or two. The remains of one member of that family, Otto Baijer, Esq., moulders beneath the beautiful tomb, a description of which will be found in Chapter XV.; and the remaining scion of the house, a female, was shortly since united to the Hon. Owen Pell, of Antigua, and of Suwell, county of Northampton.

CHAPTER IV.

Governors: Lord William Willoughby, Henry Willoughby​—​Arrival of Major, afterwards Lieutenant-General Byam, the progenitor of the family of that name​—​Biographical remarks​—​Partition of the Caribbee Islands​—​Sir William Stapleton​—​General Council and Assembly​—​Colonel Philip Warner​—​Expedition against the Caribs​—​Death of Indian Warner​—​Arrest and trial of Colonel P. Warner​—​Acquittal​—​Dampier’s account of this affair​—​Captain Southey’s History of the Indian Warner.

After peace had been once more proclaimed between France and England, and Antigua restored to its rightful sovereign, the English government, being fully assured of the death of Lord Francis Willoughby, appointed Lord William Willoughby, of Parham, (who when the royalists rose against the parliament, after the deposition of Richard Cromwell, undertook to secure Lynn for his exiled majesty,) Captain-General and chief Governor of Barbados, Antigua, and the rest of the Leeward Caribbee Islands, as some reward for his services.

Lord William Willoughby arrived at Antigua about 1668, and appointed Samuel Winthorpe his deputy-governor. During the first year of his lordship’s administration, a registrar’s office was established, and fees appointed for the same. The registrar and recorder was to be “a person of good discretion and honesty,” and his salary paid in sugar and tobacco.^[20] Acts were also passed for the “settling the inhabitants in their lands” and “for the encouragement and promoting the settling of the island”​—​very necessary measures, as all was in confusion, from the late cruel dealing of the French, in so dismantling their promising colony. This year also (1668) commenced the four and a half per cent. duty; which was an impost upon all native productions shipped from the island, to be paid to the reigning monarch, his heirs, and successors, in consideration of new grants of lands being given to the inhabitants after the restoration of Antigua to the English crown; all old titles to lands having become void by reason of the late conquest, by the French.

Lord William Willoughby removing to Barbados about this time, nominated his son, Henry Willoughby, as acting-governor, the same gentleman who was left by Lord F. Willoughby deputy-governor of Barbados during his absence upon the disastrous expedition already spoken of. Nothing of much importance occurred during the short period Mr. H. Willoughby held the government. War had not broken out in the West Indies, although it threatened the mother country, so that the Antiguans had a little quiet to settle their domestic affairs. One of the first points to which they turned their attention was to endeavour to suppress the strong habit of profane cursing and swearing which had crept in among their community, and also to put a stop to the prevalence of inebriety. To bring this desirable reformation about, the legislature enacted, that a fine of ten pounds of sugar, or tobacco, was to be imposed upon every one who uttered an oath, or opened his lips to curse; and if any one was discovered in a state of intoxication, he could be made to pay fifty pounds of sugar, or not being able to procure that quantity, and being possessed of no other property which could be levied upon, he was condemned to be placed in the public stocks for the space of four hours. It would be well if something of the kind was in force now; our ears would not then, perhaps, be so frequently shocked as they are liable to be at every hour of the day by the passers-by. Regulations were also made for establishing a public treasury in the island, and regard paid to the martial bearing of the inhabitants, by exercising them in the science of arms.

Among the settlers who came to Antigua with Francis Lord Willoughby, of Parham, was William Byam, a distinguished royalist, at that time major, but who afterwards acquired the rank of lieutenant-general.

In 1644, Mayor Byam was among the officers in garrison at Bridgewater, and being on guard when an attempt was made by the parliamentary army to take the town by surprise, he defeated the forces with great slaughter, thereby averting for some time the fate of that important fortress. On the following year, Cromwell and Fairfax coming against Bridgewater with an overwhelming power, after a gallant and desperate resistance, the town was taken, and quarter only given to the garrison. The officers were immediately sent to London, and put at the disposal of the Parliament, whence they were despatched to the Tower, and other public prisons. After remaining in the Tower for some months, Major Byam accepted a pass “to go beyond the seas,” (as the term then was,) and, with some of his military friends, he accordingly left the home of his fathers, and sought in Barbados​—​that last asylum for royalists​—​a retreat from the Oliverian power. Soon after his arrival, the important post of “treasurer of the island,” as well as “master of the ordnance,” was conferred upon him, together with large grants of land; but the number of refugees increasing in the colony to such a surprising height, the Parliament became alarmed, and, in 1651, sent a fleet and armament, under command of Sir George Ayscue, to reduce the island. There being a defection in the garrison, owing to the withdrawal of Colonel Thomas Modiford from the side of the king, after a resistance of six months, the governor, Lord Francis Willoughby, of Parham, was compelled to think of terms; and accordingly he appointed, along with three other commissioners, Major Byam to negotiate a surrender. This gentleman and his coadjutors performed their parts so ably, that they obtained from the admiral terms allowed by all historians as alike “comprehensive and honourable.” Indeed, when they were reported to England, though the Parliament did not refuse to ratify them, yet, considering them much too favourable, they never afterwards countenanced Sir George Ayscue. The very first act of the Parliament possession, contrary to the tenor of some of the articles, was to banish Mayor Byam and the other commissioners, and about ten more of the royalists, including Lord Willoughby himself. Major Byam retired to the then newly-founded settlement of Surinam, which being composed chiefly of the refugee followers of Charles, they, in those times of turmoil, elected him, by united suffrages, governor of the colony in 1654. In this situation he continued for six successive years, although Cromwell had despatched an officer of his own to take the command, being elected by universal voice, until the Restoration, when, in virtue of the proclamation at that time issued, he became governor for the crown. He was afterwards more formally confirmed in this appointment, in which he remained until the removal of the colony (or at least a large portion of it) to the island of Antigua, in virtue of the treaty of Breda, in 1667. Of this island he also became an early governor, as is still to be seen by many documents in the registrar’s office, and resumed to himself that property which he had before acquired when on a visit to the island with Francis Lord Willoughby in 1650; and now, by letters patent for the crown, under date April, 1668, 20th Charles II., among the estates of Lieutenant-General Byam renewed to him at this period, were the present Cedar Hill and his Willoughby Bay estate.^[21]

In 1672, his majesty Charles II. deemed it proper to make some alteration in the affairs of the West Indies. Hitherto all the Caribbee Islands were united under one government, but after the return of Lord William Willoughby to England, the king entered into fresh arrangements with the colonies, appointed him captain-general of Barbados, St. Lucia, St. Vincent’s and Dominica; and Sir William Stapleton captain-general and commander-in-chief of Antigua and the other Leeward Islands. This Windward Island’s separation continues at the present time, after undergoing many changes, by having their own particular governor; as far as regards Barbados, St Lucia, and St. Vincent’s. Dominica has at length been united with Antigua, Montserrat, Nevis, St. Christopher’s, Anguilla, Tortola, and the Virgin Islands, which now form the Leeward Caribbee government.

During the general government, a general council and assembly was held at either of the islands whenever the legislature deemed any important matter rendered it necessary to convene them; but the respective islands in the government, however, retained each their laws as regarded local circumstances. When the commander-in-chief found it necessary for the public good to call together this general council and assembly, the freeholders of each island met together and made choice of five eligible inhabitants to act as their representatives.

The convening of this general council and assembly accounts for the affairs of these different islands being wound up together, and laws which were passed at the one, answering, in many instances, for the others.

Sir William Stapleton preferring Nevis, he made that island the seat of government, and Colonel Philip Warner (Sir Thomas Warner’s son by his second wife) was appointed governor of Antigua. A very necessary precaution was adopted about this time​—​namely, the preventing persons wandering about cane-pieces, with lighted torches, hunting for land-crabs. If a free person was found so offending, the culprit was to pay into the public treasury one thousand pounds of sugar or tobacco; or if a slave, he was to be publicly whipped. This very dangerous practice continues to this day in seasons when the land-crabs are upon their travels, and certainly ought to meet with some punishment. So careless and thoughtless are the negroes, that large pieces of fire are frequently dropped upon the road while thus employed, which they never think of extinguishing; and as the scene of their exploits is generally in the vicinity of cane-pieces, where there is often a large quantity of dry cane-leaves, called in the country idiom, trash, serious accidents might, and indeed have been the result.

It was also deemed advisable to ordain that marriages solemnized by the governor, council, or any justice of peace, should, in absence of beneficed clergymen from the island, be adjudged equally binding and lawful, as if the ceremony had been performed by an orthodox minister. This was a regulation very necessary in that early period, when there was as yet no established church erected, or any clergymen officiating in the colony; and, consequently, marriages were obliged to be celebrated by a civil power. It was also enacted by the legislature this year (1672), that slaves killed or maimed, while acting in defence of the country, should have their value ascertained by arbitration, and the amount paid over to their owners from the public treasury.

In 1674, the inhabitants of Antigua presented an address to the captain-general, Sir William Stapleton, praying him to grant them a commission “to kill and destroy the Indians inhabiting the island of Dominica.”

From the period when Antigua was first settled by the English, the Caribs, as we have already seen, had been in the constant habit of landing upon it, and perpetrating the most fearful and horrid acts of violence upon its inhabitants. So frequent and barbarous were these attacks, that the colony at one time was in danger of being abandoned; and nothing but firm and vigorous measures on the part of the English could restrain the fury of their Indian adversaries, and quell their turbulent assaults.

As soon, therefore, as his excellency, Sir William Stapleton, acceded to the request of the Antiguans in granting a commission, a large party of volunteers was formed, aided by some of the settlers from the neighbouring islands, of which, at the earnest entreaties of the council and assembly of Antigua, Governor Philip Warner took the command. They immediately proceeded to Dominica; and however different historians may relate the events of this action, they all concur in stating, that the English obtained a most signal victory over their Indian foes. In this fray the illegitimate son of Sir Thomas Warner, by a Carib woman​—​who was generally known by the name of Thomas Warner, or “Indian Warner,” and who is said to have headed the Indians in many of their attacks upon the English​—​fell, as it is supposed, by the hands of his half-brother, Philip Warner, the governor of Antigua. Whether this deed was done by open warfare, or by treacherous means, is uncertain; but, upon the return of Colonel Philip Warner, the governor, to Antigua, after the reduction of the Caribs, the circumstances of the death of Indian Warner were inquired into either by Sir William Stapleton or Lord Willoughby, the results of which were, that Colonel Philip Warner was sent to England to stand his trial for the murder of his half-brother. After being kept in the Tower of London for some time, Colonel Warner was placed on board the Phoenix frigate, and despatched to Barbados, in order that he might be tried in the Court of Oyer and Terminer in that island.

This resolution, on the part of the home government, was no sooner known in Antigua, than a strong remonstrance was drawn up in the name of the inhabitants, and after being signed by sixteen of the most influential men among the legislature, was transmitted to the justices for the trial of Colonel Warner at Barbados, setting forth the facts, that it was only through the most earnest prayer of the Antiguans, and not from any private motives of his own, that he was induced to take the command upon the attack of the Caribs, in which action the Indian Warner fell. The facts of this case being fully investigated, Colonel Warner was honourably acquitted, his lands,^[22] which he had quietly yielded up on being sent to England for trial, were restored, and he was again permitted to exercise the functions of governor of Antigua.

It certainly appears rather extraordinary that Colonel Warner should have stood his trial for this massacre of the Indians, when we find, that for more than fifty years after this occurrence, the Caribs were still hunted and destroyed as so many reptiles; but Indian Warner was one who ranked rather high in the opinion of Lord William Willoughby, and probably that nobleman felt incensed at his death. Many are the opinions of writers upon this subject. While some look upon Colonel Warner as the unjustified murderer of his half-brother; others are led to palliate the circumstances on the plea of Indian Warner being the chief actor in those cruel Carib attacks, which were generally made upon unarmed Englishmen, or their defenceless wives and children.

Dampier, one of the greatest navigators among the Buccaneers, (before that name had acquired a dread from the lawless and bloody deeds its chieftains committed,) visited Antigua about the period of Indian Warner’s death; and in his history of his voyages he has the following passage:—​“About this time (1674) the Caribbees had done some spoil on our English plantations at Antego, and therefore Governor Warner’s son by his wife took a party of men, and went to suppress these Indians, and came to the place where his brother Indian Warner lived. Great seeming joy there was at their meeting, but how far real the event shewed; for the English Warner, providing plenty of liquor, and inviting his half-brother to be merry with him, in the midst of his entertainment, ordered his men, upon a signal given, to murder him and all his Indians, which was accordingly performed. The reason of this inhuman action is diversely reported. Some say that this Indian Warner committed all the spoil that was done to the English, and for that reason his brother killed him and his men. Others, that he was a great friend to the English, and would not suffer his men to hurt them, but did all that lay in his power to draw them to an amicable commerce; and that his brother killed him because he was ashamed to be related to an Indian. But, be it how it may, he was called in question for the murder, and forced to come home, and take his trial in England. Such perfidious doings as these, besides the baseness of them, are great hindrances of our gaining interest among the Indians.”

Captain Southey, in his “Chronological History of the West Indies,” writing of the events of 1674, says​—​“Sir Thomas Warner’s son went with an expedition to suppress the Caribs, who were headed by his half-brother, his father’s son by a Carib woman. He was received in a friendly manner by his relative. In the middle of the repast, upon a signal given, the Caribs were attacked and all massacred. Different reasons are given for this act of atrocity: one, that the Indian Warner committed all the ravages upon the English; another, that the murderer was ashamed of his Indian relations.” Evidently Captain Southey took Dampier for his guide in relating this circumstance; and other authors, following in the wake, have handed Colonel Warner down to posterity, in the character of a fratricide. But before his actions are discussed, it would be well to lay aside all previously formed opinions, and, horrible as fratricide must appear to all, calmly take a retrospect of the great cruelties practised by the Caribs on the persons of the English, which led to the melancholy incident already narrated.^[23] Before concluding this subject, it will be necessary to mention some further particulars of the Indian Warner, the half-brother, of whose death Colonel Philip Warner was made amenable.

At the latter end of 1629, after having the honour of knighthood conferred upon him by Charles I., Sir Thomas Warner returned from England to St. Christopher’s. Soon after his arrival, he entered into a league with the French settlers and Mons. D’Esnambuc, the captain of a French privateer; and, falling upon the Caribs by night, murdered in cold blood one hundred and twenty of the men.^[24] The females they parted among themselves, and one of the handsomest of them fell to the share of Sir Thomas Warner,^[25] by whom she had a son, a remarkably fine and intelligent lad. About the year 1645, when he was fifteen years old,^[26] an old Carib man, who, by some chance, had remained upon the island after the expulsion of his countrymen, informed the boy of the former cruelties of the English to his mother’s relations​—​a tale which so exasperated him, that he was determined to escape, the first opportunity, and join his Carib friends. At length he effected his purpose, and fled to Dominica,^[27] where the Caribs had taken up their abode after being driven from St. Christopher’s. So pleased were the Indians with this display of spirit on the part of their young relative, that they received him with open arms, looked upon him as their chief, shared with him all their predatory booty, and followed him in all his expeditions. In 1664, Lord Francis Willoughby appointed this half-Carib (who bore the name of Thomas Warner) governor of Dominica, then inhabited by Indians. In this situation he remained until 1666, when he was captured by the French, and carried prisoner to St. Christopher’s, (some authors say Guadaloupe,) where he met with very harsh treatment, and was not liberated until after the peace, and then only at the earnest interposition of Lord William Willoughby. After his liberation, he appears to have carried on his warfare with the English colonists, until, as already mentioned, 1674, when he met his fate in about the forty-fourth year of his age.

As perhaps it may be interesting to some of my readers to look over the “Remonstrance,” alluded to as drawn up by the members of the Antigua legislature in 1676, when Colonel Philip Warner was tried for the murder of his half-brother​—​I have inserted it in the Appendix, (No. 6.)

CHAPTER V.

Governor Col. R. Williams​—​Biographical remarks​—​Towns of trade appointed​—​Antigua divided into parishes​—​Sir Nathaniel Johnson appointed captain-general and governor-in-chief​—​Colonel Codrington​—​Remarks upon this family​—​Invasion of Antigua by a French privateer​—​Attack upon Guadeloupe by the English​—​Expedition to St. Christopher’s​—​Gallant conduct of Colonel Williams and Colonel Willoughby Byam​—​Sir Francis Wheeler’s expedition​—​Wilmot and Lillingston’s expedition​—​Death of the captain-general, General Codrington​—​Colonel John Yeamans, lieutenant-governor​—​Arrival of Admiral Benbow.

In 1675, Colonel Rowland Williams was appointed lieutenant-governor (or, as the phrase then was, deputy-governor) of Antigua. This gentleman was possessed of eminent qualifications, which honourably distinguished him among his contemporaries. He was alike conspicuous as a wise councillor and a skilful commander; whether in the senate or the field, he equally merited applause. The father of Colonel Williams (as will be seen in the genealogy of this family) was one of the earliest settlers in Antigua, and even in those times was famed for noble virtues​—​virtues which have descended from father to son, down to the present day, and centered themselves in the person of the Hon. Rowland E. Williams, the present possessor of “Claremont,” the family mansion.^[28]

During the administration of Colonel Rowland Williams as governor of Antigua, six towns were appointed as places of trade, instead of two, as was the former custom. These towns were Falmouth, St. John’s, Bridge Town, Carlisle Road, Parham Landing Place, and Bermudian Valley. In these different towns all business was to be transacted as relates to shipping, &c.; and no vessel was allowed to unload or sell their cargo at any other place, under punishment of forfeiting their goods. This, however, did not debar any freeholder from disposing of his own personal property or merchandise at any place in the island he deemed proper.

It does not appear at what particular period a secretary and a marshal were appointed; but in 1677 an act was passed relating unto such officers.

In 1680, provisions were made for settling the militia, and for ensuring a better martial discipline throughout the island.

Antigua was divided into parishes about 1681, which then consisted of five​—​namely, Falmouth, Rendezvous Bay, and part of Willoughby Bay, to be the parish of St. Paul’s; the remaining part of Willoughby Bay, Nonsuch, and Belfast, to be the parish of St. Philip’s; divisions of New and Old North Sound to be the parish of St. Peter’s; the divisions of Pope’s Head, Dickerson’s Bay, St. John’s, and Five Islands, to be the parish of St. John’s; and the divisions of the Road and Bermudian Valley to be the parish of St. Mary’s. Churches were also ordered to be erected, and all parochial charges to be raised from the inhabitants of each parish. The yearly salary of their ministers was 16,000lbs. of sugar or tobacco, which was paid to them on the 24th day of June, being the feast of St. John the Baptist.

The following year (1682) an expedition was despatched to act against the Indians of Dominica.

His Majesty Charles II. having departed this life, Sir William Stapleton proclaimed his successor, James II. with great pomp, at Nevis. An old writer gives a long account of the ceremonies observed upon that day​—​of the gorgeous festival which succeeded, and the splendid attire of the governor; but as this work is strictly confined to Antigua, such detail will be superfluous.

In 1684, during the administration of Sir William Stapleton, slaves were annexed to freeholds, and could be voted upon, the same as a freehold, or levied upon for distress. In illustration of this, a person possesses a family of slaves​—​say the mother and five or six children, the youngest in arms and drawing its daily nutriment from its parent; the owner of these slaves falls into difficulties​—​he owes a certain sum, and his creditor takes out an execution against him. The value of the negro woman covers, perhaps, the amount of debt, and accordingly she is seized, carried away, and sold, probably to a third or even a fourth person, and her baby and other children are severed from her, and she left alone. Oh! slavery, slavery, how dost thou debase the sons of men!

Sir William Stapleton dying, King James appointed Sir Nathaniel Johnson, governor-in-chief, who continued to act as such until the first year of the reign of William and Mary, when he retired to America, and was succeeded in the government by Colonel Christopher Codrington in 1689.^[29]

Colonel Codrington was so indefatigable in planting and cultivating the sugar-cane in Antigua, that he has been termed the patron of the island. This gentleman removed from Barbados to Antigua in 1674; when he purchased a large quantity of land, and formed the first sugar estate upon the island, and, sending for his wife and children, constituted himself one of its earliest planters. The Codrington family is of old extraction, and many a brave warrior has sprang from that source, as British history will shew.^[30]

About the first year of Colonel Codrington’s government, in 1689, the fortifications at Monk Hill were commenced; but they appear not to have been carried on with any degree of spirit until 1705. This year the crew of a French privateer landed at Five Islands’ Bay, and burnt and plundered the surrounding country; and carried away with them several negroes, besides much spoil. The Antiguans, highly incensed at this invasion, placed a small force on board an armed vessel under command of Captain Walter Hamilton, and pursued the enemy. This plan succeeded, and they returned to Antigua with the privateer as a prize; on board of which were some Irishmen, who were hung as a warning to others.

The English government was greatly annoyed at these repeated attacks upon her West Indian colonies; and William III. made it one of his complaints against the French king upon declaring war with that monarch. Supposing that, after this war was declared, the French would be more active in their incursions, the inhabitants of Antigua determined to keep better watch. Sir Timothy Thornhill arriving with troops, all military affairs were delegated to him; and by his orders, guards were stationed at all the bays, and a constant look-out kept. Still the Caribs and a few Frenchmen managed to effect a landing, by sailing up some of the creeks, and killed ten of the inhabitants, and plundered some provision grounds. It was thought proper to appoint some reward for soldiers acting valiantly in defence of the island; and to make some provision for the wounded, and allowance for the widows and children of the slain. If any white servant shewed deeds of valour, and could obtain a certificate of such from the hands of his officer, that servant was freed,^[31] the country paying to his master a sum proportionate to his services. If wounded they were to receive medical attendance and maintenance free of charge; if disabled, to receive yearly 3000lbs. of sugar for life; and if killed, their widows were to have the same amount of sugar, and the children to be taken care of, and supported by the country. The owners of those slaves who fell in defence of the country, were also recompensed, by having 5000lbs. of sugar paid them from the public stock for every negro killed or mortally wounded, instead of having such slaves valued by arbitration, as was the plan from the year 1672. Regulations were also gone into by the legislature, for the establishing of courts of law, and settling due methods for the distribution of justice throughout the colony.

About the middle of this year (1689) Colonel Hewetson, with a party of men, embarked on board a man of war, and sailed to attack Guadaloupe. They landed with but little opposition, and having obtained some plunder, and given the French a kind of tit-for-tat, returned in safety to Antigua. This was a very busy year for the Antiguans; for no sooner had Colonel Hewetson reached Antigua with his troops, from the late attack, than they raised 300 men, and sailed to the island of Marie Galante. Here they met with like success in the way of retaliation; beating the inhabitants, burning their town, and obtaining more plunder. From Marie Galante they proceeded to St. Martin’s, where Fortune, that usually fickle goddess, did not forsake them; for they not only plundered the place and increased their spoils, but drove the French completely off the island. Upon their return, General Codrington (for the governor had arrived to this rank) sent three sloops, with eighty men, under the command of Captain Edward Thorn, to the island of Anguila, to bring from thence all the English who resided there; they having been very cruelly used by some Irishmen, whom the French had landed there, for that purpose, a year before.

1690 was again ushered in by that demon​—​War. Louis, that ambitious, but admired monarch, encouraged his subjects to invade the English colonies, in the West Indies and America, while he assisted James, the abdicated sovereign, in his attempts upon England and Ireland. General Codrington was warmly attached to the reigning monarchs, William and Mary, and consequently endeavoured on all occasions to further their interest in the West Indies. No sooner had accounts arrived at Antigua of the battle of the Boyne, and William’s victory over the French troops upon that eventful day, than the governor determined to strike a blow for the honour of England. Admiral Wright arriving with a strong squadron of men of war, General Codrington prevailed upon all the other Leeward Islands to raise forces to endeavour to retake St. Kitt’s, which had fallen to the French king some time before, by the fortunes of war. Antigua, never behind the other islands in warlike deeds, raised a body of 400 (or, as some authors make it, 800) men, which were placed under the command of that gallant officer, Colonel Rowland Williams, and 200 gentlemen volunteers, under command of Colonel Willoughby Byam, who served as a body-guard to the governor-general, Christopher Codrington; and, by dint of prowess, their object was gained, for not only did they oblige the French to surrender the island, but, according to some authors, actually transported about eighteen hundred of them to St. Domingo and Martinique.^[32] A general council and assembly was held this year, and an agent and commissioners appointed for the negotiation and management of the affairs of the Leeward Islands, as well as the raising and settling a proper fund for the defraying the expense of the same. Rewards were also given to the soldiers who acted valiantly in the late expedition.

The following year (1691) passed in quietness. The French were too much taken up with their European engagements to have much force in the West Indies; and Admiral Wright, cruizing about these seas, intimidated the few privateers still lurking about. It was deemed necessary by the legislature this year to enact a law, obliging all the members of the assembly to serve in such capacity when elected.

The year 1692 was chiefly passed in settling island business, and making laws to redress several grievances which were severely felt by the inhabitants. One of these was as follows: after the reduction of this island, and its restoration to the English in 1667, a great many persons pretended to have a right to large portions of land, by virtue of grants prior to the war, but which they had failed to cultivate. The consequence of this was, that the country was rapidly going to ruin; and the only way to avert it was, by government granting these lands to more industrious persons, as an encouragement to them to settle. When, after a lapse of time, the former possessors found their barren and uncultivated lands turned into profitable estates, they came forward and claimed them as their own; and so annoying were these threatenings to those who had worked the change, that although they had spent both time and money, they preferred leaving the island, and seeking some other home. To rectify this, it was determined by the legislature this year, that all persons who possessed lands by grants from government should be confirmed in the same, providing they had held them for five years. Still, that justice might be equally imparted to all, if the former possessors put in their claim within two years, and it was allowed by a jury that they had a right to the same, they could demand the value of their lands as they were when they left them. A vestry was this year elected, churchwardens appointed, and a parish register ordered to be kept in each of the parishes in the island. In this register, all christenings, marriages, and burials were to be entered, under penalty of 5l. currency, the fee for which was 9d. currency each. An act was also passed for the settling of general councils and assemblies.

The next year (1693) was celebrated for the endeavours of the Antiguans to destroy the remaining Caribs; and for this reason, great encouragement was given to those persons who fitted out privateers to destroy them and take their canoes. In the early part of the year, Sir Francis Wheeler arrived at Barbados, with an expected squadron of English men-of-war, intended for an attack upon the island of Martinique, when intelligence was immediately despatched to Antigua, in order that General Codrington might join him with the Antigua and other Leeward Island troops. In this expedition, Sir Francis Wheeler commanded the men-of-war, (on board of which were Colonel Foulks and Colonel Godwin’s regiments of foot, and 200 recruits, under command of Colonel Lloyd,) and Colonel Foulks the land forces. On the 30th of March, the fleet left Barbados, having on board two Barbados’ regiments, which, including the gentlemen-volunteers, consisted of about 1500 men, and arrived at Martinique on the 1st of April.

The fleet anchored in the Cul de Sac Marine, on the south side of the island; and Sir Francis Wheeler, attended by Colonel Foulks and Colonel Lloyd, went in a boat to search for a good landing-place for the troops. Their movements were, however, watched by a party of French guards, one of whom fired a musket, the shot of which striking Sir Francis upon the breast, occasioned a severe contusion. The next morning, Colonel Foulks landed 1500 men without opposition; and during the day, the whole of the forces were gathered together on shore, where they commenced the work of destruction by burning the houses and sugar-works, the inhabitants fleeing for safety into the woods.

In the course of the few following days, General Codrington joined the expedition with the Antigua and other Leeward Island forces, and Colonel Lloyd’s regiment, when it was determined, in a council of war, to sail and attack St. Pierre, the principal town upon the island. Here, however, the English appear to have acted a very indifferent part; for, after destroying a few plantations, and standing some slight skirmishing with the French, they abandoned their plans of endeavouring to take the town; and, upon the plea of the troops being sickly, re-embarked their men, and left the island. Colonel Foulks, Colonel Godwin, Major Abrahall, with some of the other officers, died of their wounds on board the vessels; and the Antigua and other island troops returned to their respective colonies.

Thus ended an expedition, from which had been expected great results. According to an early historian, if the regulars had done their duty, as the Antiguan and the other island troops did, the whole of the French sugar islands might have been dispossessed, for the English forces amounted to between 3000 and 4000 men. The French were, however, very much alarmed, and many of “the richest inhabitants shipped themselves and their valuable effects for France, some of whom were intercepted by the English.” Sir Francis Wheeler then steered for Boston, in America, intending to have proceeded against Quebec; but finding his arguments overruled by the Bostonians, he returned in disgust to England, with his vessels in a very shattered condition, and having lost half of his men.

This officer was noted for his misfortunes, which could neither be attributed to want of courage nor want of judgment, but to circumstances over which he had no control. We have seen how unfortunate was his expedition to the West Indies; and although not altogether connected with this work, we may just glance at his after-fate. About 1694, he was appointed commander-in-chief of the Mediterranean squadron, with orders to take under his convoy the merchant ships trading to Turkey, Italy, and Spain; there to join the Spanish fleet in cruising about until the return of the Turkish ships, when he was to accompany them home. After receiving these orders, he sailed from the roads of St. Helens, off the Isle of Wight, and arrived in safety at Cadiz, where, leaving Rear-Admiral Hopson, he proceeded for the Mediterranean. In passing through the Bay of Gibraltar, he met with very bad weather under a lee-shore. The ground was so foul that there was no hold for an anchor; but as there was no other plan they could follow, they were obliged to drop them. Several of the ships were driven on shore, of which many were entirely lost. The Admiral’s ship foundered at sea, and with the exception of two Moors, all perished in those tideless waters.

In 1694, a general council and assembly was held at Antigua, when, among other business, it was deemed necessary to place a certain value upon all foreign coins in circulation throughout the Leeward Caribbee Islands. To avoid disputes in electing members to serve in these general councils and assemblies, it was proposed that in future the secretary should take the votes of the freeholders upon oath in their presence, and admit no vote but from a known freeholder of the respective island in person. But if, after these precautions, disputes should still occur, the legislature was to determine the cause.

The year 1695 will be long remembered in English history as that of the siege of Namur; which action, glorious as it was, would not have been mentioned here, did not two gentlemen, well known in Antigua, make themselves conspicuous by their courage and noble bearing on that occasion. One of these distinguished characters was Christopher Codrington, Esq., son of General Codrington, the commander-in-chief, and afterwards governor himself; a gentleman not only celebrated for his bravery, where all were brave, but also as being the most accomplished person of his day. The other individual was Sir William Mathew, afterwards Captain-General of the Leeward Islands.

While these warlike deeds were going on in Europe, a squadron had been sent to the West Indies to protect the trade and harass the enemy. This squadron was placed under the joint command of Captain Robert Wilmot and Colonel Lillingston, and consisted of about 1200 land forces, augmented by troops from Antigua, and some other of the West Indian islands. This expedition, like that of Sir Francis Wheeler’s, proved unfortunate; the sea and land officers disagreed, and instead of acting with each other, they pursued opposite courses. Their first attempt was against St. Domingo; but instead of proceeding to take the capital, Captain Wilmot plundered the surrounding country for his own good; and although Colonel Lillingston remonstrated with him, he would not listen to reason. Finding the ill success of their endeavours, the West Indian troops determined to return to their respective homes: the Spaniards, who had joined them against their common enemy, the French, became disgusted, and withdrew; and the commanders themselves, disappointed of their expected captures, set sail for England. They lost one of their ships in the Gulf of Florida, and Captain Wilmot died on his passage. This year the Antiguans lost some of their merchant-ships, as did many of the other West India Islands, by their falling into the hands of the French privateers, who swarmed about the entrance of the English Channel.

The following year passed in quietness in Antigua. The secretary’s office was appointed as the place where all the island laws were to be lodged. Before this period, it appears that there was no particular place appointed to keep the public records; and consequently many valuable papers became mislaid or lost. This year, (1696,) the Hastings frigate was at Antigua, and sailed for London as convoy to a fleet of eleven ships, which were eleven weeks upon their voyage.

In 1697, public pounds were erected in the several towns of Antigua, and imposts laid upon all liquors imported into the island. This had been hitherto a custom, but had expired some short time before.

The year 1698 was a year of mourning to the Antiguans; their friend and patron, as well as governor, breathed his last sigh, and exchanged an earthly for a heavenly home. General Codrington was, as before remarked, the first person who planted the sugar-cane in Antigua: its chief productions before were indigo, ginger, and tobacco. He removed from Barbados (of which island he was a native) in 1674; and some authors make that year his appointment to the governor-generalship of the Leeward Islands, and that of Colonel Rowland Williams, deputy-governor of Antigua. This assertion is, however, evidently incorrect; for we have already seen, that Sir William Stapleton was acting as such at that period. The mistake must have arisen from General Codrington having removed to Antigua in that year.

After the demise of General Codrington, the captain-general of the Leeward Islands, Colonel John Yeamans, a resident proprietor of Antigua, exercised the office of governor of the island.

The Antiguans came to the resolution this year (1698) of appointing an agent for the island, who was to reside in London, and solicit the confirmation of such laws as should from time to time be made in Antigua, as well as to transact any other island business. The salary then given was 100l. sterling per annum, to commence from 1st January, 1689; but since the year 1800, it has been augmented. About this period, the notorious Captain Kidd^[33] paid Antigua a visit; but finding the coast of North America would afford him a better harvest, he did not remain long.

In 1699, the gallant Admiral Benbow arrived at Antigua with a squadron of men-of-war, having on board Colonel Collingwood’s regiment, (or, more probably, Col. Whetham’s regiment, known as the “Enniskillen,” or 27th regiment of the line;) part of which was intended to be stationed upon the island, and the remainder to be sent to the other colonies within the government.

CHAPTER VI.

Governor Colonel Christopher Codrington​—​Establishment of the first market​—​Accession of Queen Anne​—​Arrival of Admiral Benbow​—​Attack upon the island of Guadaloupe, in conjunction with the Antiguan troops​—​Bravery of Colonel Edward Byam​—​Arrival of Captain Hovenden Walker​—​Second attack upon Guadaloupe​—​Colonel Codrington quits the government​—​His death​—​Sir William Mathew​—​Hon. John Johnson.

At the period of his father’s death, Christopher Codrington, Esq., the eldest son of the preceding governor, was in Holland, with his sovereign and his army; but upon the news arriving of General Codrington’s demise, William III. immediately appointed Christopher to succeed his late father as Captain-General and Commander-in-chief of the Leeward Islands, in which capacity he arrived at Antigua, in the year 1700.

In the same year, regulations were framed by the legislature, to further increase the number of white inhabitants, and encourage the soldiers who had been lately disbanded, to settle in the island, by giving them grants of ten acres of land, and authorizing the treasurer to advance to each of them, as a loan, the sum of 3l., a barrel of beef, and a cask of flour. Such soldiers as were unprovided with grants were to be allowed 6d. per day, until the time they were put into possession; and those who chose to emigrate from the islands to leeward of Antigua, were allowed 12s. for their passage-money. All tavern-keepers, owners of sloops, &c., were also obliged to employ white men, under a penalty of 30s. for each offence.

In 1702, the first market-place was established, cross streets laid out, and the town of St. John’s otherwise improved. A clerk of the market was appointed, who was also to be the public whipper and crier; town-wardens were elected, whose duty was to assess houses and lands; and a cage, pillory, stocks, whipping-post, and ducking-stool,^[34] put up at the public expense. Night-watches were also appointed, to have the same power as watchmen in London, and a watch-house built in a convenient spot. Many of the wharfs were also constructed, and other improvements made.

William III. having died the 8th of the preceding March, Queen Anne, his successor, was proclaimed at Antigua, in June, 1702, with some pomp; as also at Nevis, where the captain-general was holding a general council and assembly. Punishments were also enacted this year for the offences of slaves, and for the better government of free negroes. If a slave struck a white person, and in any way hurt or disfigured him, such slave was to have his nose slit, or any member cut off, or to suffer death, at the discretion of a justice of peace. Any slaves running away from their owners for the space of three months, were also to suffer death, have a limb cut off, or be publicly whipped​—​the treasurer paying to the owner 18l. in case of death. If, in pursuit of a runaway slave, the parties killed him, they were not liable to prosecution.

With regard to free negroes, and mulattoes, by which was meant all persons of colour, they were obliged to choose a master or a mistress to live with, unless they possessed land of their own; and if they dared to strike a white servant, they were to be severely whipped. No free negro could possess more than eight acres of land; nor could any minister marry such person to a slave, under a penalty of fifty pounds.

The military affairs were also regulated. The island militia were to consist of infantry and carbineers, under one of which all the male white inhabitants, from the age of fourteen to sixty-five, were to be included. One day in every month was to be set apart for the troops to be exercised; and once in a year a grand rendezvous was to take place at Boyer’s Pasture, in the division of North Sound, when prizes were to be distributed to those who made the best six shots at a target. The prizes consisted of six silver-hilted swords, with belts, valued at 6l. currency. Martial law was also ordained to be in full force at any period when there were fears of insurrections or invasions. Fines were also imposed for various offences, such as absence from parade, &c. Privates who could not raise the money, were, in default of paying such fines as they had incurred, to be picketed, or tied neck and heels for an hour.

This year (1702) Admiral Benbow again visited Antigua, and war having broken out with France, the captain-general, Colonel Christopher Codrington, resolved, in conjunction with that brave officer, to make an attack upon Guadaloupe. The merchants of Antigua, who were then a numerous body, equipped several privateers to serve under the admiral’s flag; and the captain-general, Colonel Codrington, raised a regiment of soldiers, which were placed under the command of Colonel Edward Byam. On the 7th March, the land and sea forces were abreast the island of Guadaloupe, from whence the French fired at them, killing one man, and wounding a boy on board the commodore’s ship. The fleet laid off and on until the 10th of the same, waiting for the “Maidstone” man-of-war, with some other of his Majesty’s vessels, from Maria Galante, when, upon their arrival, Admiral Benbow came to an anchor on the north-west side of the island. After burning some plantations along the coast, on the 12th, Colonel Byam, with his regiment, and a detachment of 200 men of Colonel Whetham’s regiment, landed at “Les Petits Habitans,” where Colonel Byam distinguished himself by his great bravery; and, with the united assistance of the regulars, obliged the French to retire. The English next attacked a town called “Bogliffe,” which, after some resistance, they took, as also the Jacobin’s church, on which the French had planted ten pieces of cannon. After many other successes, among which was taking the breast-work along the Jacobin river, the strongest fortifications the French possessed, the English proceeded to Basseterre, the capital; and this town they, no doubt, would have also taken, had it not been for the unhappy differences arising between the commanders, and which, combined with the illness of the troops, occasioned the English to withdraw from the island at a time when victory was almost sure.

After quitting the island of Guadaloupe, the fleet proceeded for Antigua; but Admiral Benbow, hearing of the arrival of the French admiral with ten ships of the line in these latitudes, went in search of them. As it does not appear any of the Antiguan forces joined him, we will only briefly remark that, falling in with the squadron, a fight commenced, which lasted three days. The last twenty-four hours the admiral fought with his single ship, his other vessels having deserted him; when, although his leg was shattered by a chain-shot, and he had received several other wounds, he would not be carried from the deck of his ship, but continued fighting until the French were obliged to sheer off.

Benbow was so displeased with the conduct of the captains of his different ships, that he determined to steer for Jamaica, and upon his arrival to call a court-martial. The most culpable of them suffered death, the others were punished in different ways, and the admiral himself took their conduct so much to heart, that vexation, co-operating with the pain of his wounds, caused his death in November of the same year.

About this period (1703), the first sailing packet for the conveyance of letters arrived at Antigua. Queen Anne had been graciously pleased to establish this packet service for the furtherance of trade, as well as to keep up a more regular intercourse with the colonies, as may be seen from the annexed notification:—

This year (1703), his Excellency, Christopher Codrington, again entered the lists of battle. Sir George Rooke had despatched from England at the end of the former year Captain Hovenden Walker with six ships of the line and transports, having on board four regiments of soldiers for the Leeward Islands, which were to be landed at Antigua, and then distributed among the other colonies. Upon their arrival at Antigua, Colonel Codrington gave Captain Walker such information as determined him to alter his plans, and make an attack upon Guadaloupe; so, taking on board the governor and a “martial little band” under his command, they proceeded for that island. After having razed the fort, burnt the town, and ravaged the surrounding country, they re-embarked with precipitation, in consequence of a report that a body of 900 French soldiers had arrived to the succour of the inhabitants. Colonel Codrington and his party returned to Antigua; and Captain Walker retired to Nevis with his squadron, where, it is said, they must have perished by famine had not Admiral Graydon fortunately put in there, on his way to Jamaica, and relieved them.

Colonel Codrington was recalled from his government in the early part of 1704​—​for what reason I know not, unless it be his loyalty and attachment to his deceased sovereign, William III. He resided upon his “Betty’s Hope” estate, in Antigua, for some years afterwards, as a private gentleman, but at length removed to Barbados, where he died in 1710; and, in 1716, his remains were exhumed, and conveyed to England, and buried in the chapel of All Souls’, Oxford. Colonel Codrington added to his other accomplishments that of a poet​—​four of his poems being published in the Musæ Anglicanæ. He founded a college, by bequest, at Barbados, which still bears the name of “Codrington College;” and where, since the appointment of a bishop to this diocese, in 1825, the clergymen who officiate in the West Indian churches, are, with the exception of two or three from the English universities, ordained.^[35]

In 1704, Queen Anne appointed Sir William Mathew, a native of St. Kitt’s, (who had distinguished himself at the siege of Namur,) captain-general, who arrived at Antigua 14th July, the same year. His Excellency did not live much more than five months after his appointment, dying 4th December; but during that short time, he endeared himself to all classes by a kind and courteous behaviour, and his strict integrity and honourable actions.^[36] Upon the decease of Sir William Mathew, the Hon. John Johnson was made commander-in-chief for a short time.^[37] During his administration, measures were taken to provide for the safety of the wives and children of those persons who at any time might be engaged in fighting for this island, and also for the infirm and superannuated, by building small houses within the fortifications of Monk’s Hill, where they could retire in times of actual warfare. This was a very necessary precaution, when the frequent landing of the French, attended by the Caribs, and the dreadful barbarities which they practised upon the unfortunate creatures who fell into their hands, is called to mind. And it was very naturally supposed that the men would fight better in the ranks, when they knew those who were near and dear to them were in comparative safety, than if obliged to leave them unprotected. These fortifications had been begun, at considerable expense, in the year 1687-8, and although a constant tax upon the country, had never been finished; but it was resolved this year to make no more delay, but carry on the works with vigour.

This year (1705) a general council and assembly was held at Nevis, when an act was passed to regulate such meeting, and retain for each island its several laws. In future, the general assembly was to consist of five freeholders, elected from each respective island within the government. No member was to be sued or arrested for debt ten days before or after the sessions; and, while serving in general council and assembly, each member was to be paid 20s. per day, and their expenses allowed them for going from island to island.

CHAPTER VII.

Governor Colonel Daniel Parke​—​His birth-place and parentage​—​His actions at the battle of Holchet and Blenheim​—​His arrival at Antigua​—​Dissensions with the Antiguans​—​Complaints against him sent to England​—​Results of the applications at the court of Queen Anne​—​Tyrannical behaviour of Colonel Parke​—​Events of the 7th December, 1710​—​Death of Colonel Parke.

The year 1706 is celebrated in the annals of Antigua as that in which that abominable and atrocious governor, Daniel Parke, arrived to blast for a time with his unhallowed breath this beautiful little island. Parke was an American of rather low birth, a tobacco-planter in the state of Virginia, but who succeeded in marrying a lady of good fortune, and of a respectable family in that province. As money was the only thing he cared for in this alliance, he contrived to secure that, and then left his wife a prey to sorrow and regret, for having sacrificed her peace for a handsome but unworthy man. After acting in this inhuman manner to a woman whose only fault was her love for him, Parke proceeded to one of the northern states, where he committed a crime at a gaming-table, which obliged him to fly to England to escape the punishment so justly due. Here he purchased an estate, situated near Whitchurch, county of Hants, of about 500l. a year, and got himself returned member for that borough. He was, however, expelled the House for bribery, and ordered to be prosecuted, but through the interference of the Earl of Pembroke, he eluded his trial. His next action was to form a liaison with a lady, the wife of a captain in the Guards; and, to escape the vengeance of the incensed husband, he left England, and fled into Holland, where he entered into the army as a volunteer, under the celebrated John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough.

The Duke of Marlborough appears to have been caught with Mr. Parke’s insinuating manners and agreeable person, and made him one of his aides-de-camp at the battle of Hochet; but having had a quarrel with an officer in the Queen’s Guards, Parke quitted the service a few days previous to the memorable battle of Blenheim. He still, however, remained within the precincts of the camp until the very day when that decisive action was fought; and when victory was about to be declared for the allied army, he presented himself before Marlborough, and requested that he might be the bearer of a line or two to acquaint the Queen of the glorious conquest likely to be achieved. The brave General reined up his panting war-horse, and with a heart bounding with exultation, and a face flushed with expected success, wrote, with a lead pencil, the following brief and soldier-like billet to his duchess:—

At the English court, Colonel Parke gained the patronage of Sarah, the haughty but fascinating Duchess of Marlborough; through whose interest he became such a favourite with Queen Anne, that she presented him with her picture, richly set in diamonds, a purse of one thousand guineas, and afterwards made him governor and captain-general of Antigua and the rest of the Leeward Islands; where he arrived 6th July, 1706, in the squadron commanded by Capt. Kerr, and where he gave full scope to his licentious disposition.

Upon the first arrival of Colonel Parke, the assembly voted him 1000l. a year for house-rent, and great satisfaction was expressed at his appointment. It was not long, however, before this fair prospect of colonial happiness changed; and the governor, by his arbitrary behaviour, forfeited all claims to the good feeling and respect of the inhabitants. One of the earliest offences Colonel Parke gave the Antiguans, was his making a low man he brought to the island with him a member of the assembly. Being a vulgar man, he delighted in vulgar associates; and becoming acquainted with a private named Ayon, belonging to a regiment of foot stationed in Antigua, he prevailed upon the governor to appoint him provost- marshal. To the remonstrance of the Antiguans against this proceeding, Parke replied, he should make whom he chose provost-marshal; and that he would never appoint any person to that office who did not agree to act exactly as he wished, as well as empannel such juries as he should direct.

The next act of the governor gave equal displeasure. This was calling upon the Codrington family to shew their right to the Island of Barbuda,^[38] (which had been granted to General Codrington by William III.;) and the Antiguans not only felt interested in the affairs of him who had been their friend and governor, but they supposed Parke would also be calling upon them to shew their claim to their estates​—​an indignity which they felt no inclination to put up with.

Another crime of huge magnitude was the seduction of Mrs. Chester, the wife of Edward Chester, Esq., one of the most opulent of the Antiguan merchants, and a member of the house of assembly. Not content with injuring this gentleman in the deepest manner by thus robbing him of the affections of his wife, Colonel Parke, in his office of governor, proceeded to offer Mr. Chester every insult which a little mind was capable of. Upon one occasion, the governor had all his cocoa and other merchandise seized, on an unfounded suspicion of its being illegally gained; and then, supposing that all these several aggravations would cause him to be justly disliked, he (Colonel Parke) accused Mr. Chester of joining with other disaffected parties, in endeavours against his government; and, upon the plea of doing it for the establishment of the public peace, he broke into Mr. Chester’s house one evening, when that gentleman was entertaining a few of his friends, who were obnoxious to the governor​—​and, by the assistance of some of his armed sycophants, among whom was the provost-marshal, dragged Mr. Chester and his friends to prison. In order to give some face to his proceedings, Colonel Parke accused other gentlemen of joining in this pretended insurrection, and, accordingly, he sent some of his brutal partisans to an estate called “Denbows,” with orders to take into custody Mr. Ffrye and Mr. Cockran, (members of the assembly,) and bring them to town to stand their trial upon that charge. While the magistrates were taking depositions in this case, Sergeant Bowes, a creature of the governor, beat Captain Kallabane (one of the witnesses for the defendant) in the open court. For this offence the sergeant was broke by his colonel, and ordered to be whipped; but when this circumstance came to the ears of the governor, he immediately restored Bowes to his rank of sergeant, and protected him from all further punishment.

Another source of dissatisfaction, upon the part of the assembly, arose from the circumstance of the governor taking the soldiers off duty to watch his private property. The following extract, taken from a message addressed to his excellency from the members of the house of assembly, relates to this subject:—​“We always conceived her Majesty’s troops were sent to do duty on our standing guards, and not to be altogether employed in guarding your excellency’s person, your several buildings, your lumber, your heaps of bricks, mortar, and pantiles.”

It must not be supposed that these were the only complaints alleged against Colonel Parke. His whole conduct, both in public and private life, was arbitrary in the extreme; and so supercilious was his treatment of the magnates of the island, that before he had held the government for twelve months, articles of impeachment were prepared to be forwarded to England.

In 1707, a petition was drawn up and signed by eighty of the principal inhabitants, praying for his recall; a sum of money raised in order to defray the expenses of sending Mr. Nevin to England, to lay their grievances before her Majesty and council; and letters were written to Richard Cary, Esq., the colonial agent, calling upon that gentleman to assist them in their designs.

While these measures were pursued by the disaffected party, the governor, who was not ignorant of these cabals against him, lost nothing of his arrogance of manner, which so incensed his adversaries, that at length an attempt was made upon his life. As he was riding along the high road, leading from St. John’s to English Harbour, a negro, named “Sandy,” fired at him from a piece of canes belonging to the plantation of the Honourable Otto Baijer,^[39] and dangerously wounded him, of which deed Colonel Parke accused Mr. Jacob Morgan and some of the other members of the assembly, with being the instigators.

About this time, Colonel Parke thought proper to accuse Barry Tankard, Esq., (a proprietor of sugar estates in Antigua, and an intimate friend of Colonel Codrington,) of caballing against his government; and accordingly he despatched his emissaries to the estate of that gentleman, with orders to seize his person, and bring him into town. Upon their arrival at Mr. Tankard’s house, they were informed of his absence from home; but doubting the truth of this information, they broke open the door of Mrs. Tankard’s chamber, (who was confined to her bed from severe indisposition,) and so alarmed that lady, that for some time her life was in danger. This arbitrary behaviour on the part of the governor led Barry Tankard to resent it, by calling his excellency out in a duel; but Colonel Parke, considering it beneath the dignity of the queen’s representative to accept the challenge of a private gentleman, the matter ended.

While these dissensions were going on in Antigua between the governor on the one side, and the members of the assembly and the principal inhabitants on the other, Mr. Nevin and Mr. Cary were using their best endeavours to get a favourable answer to their complaints from the home government. At length, after many delays, Mr. Nevin returned to Antigua, bringing with him the queen’s letter, directing that witnesses should be examined to prove the several articles of impeachment sent home against the governor, as well as his excellency’s answers to the same. “The depositions and answers were sworn before Edward Byam, Esq., one of the council, and Nathaniel Crump, Esq., speaker of the house of assembly, and were ordered to be sealed with the broad seal of the island, and forwarded immediately to England.” The governor, however, refusing to seal the affidavits of the complainants, upon the plea that his own answers were not ready, from the delays of the justices before whom they were sworn, his opponents were obliged to use another seal, and then despatch them, under the care of Mr. Nevin, to England.

During the year 1709, Queen Anne recalled Colonel Parke from his government, to the great joy of the Antiguans. To this command the infatuated man, however, would pay no attention; and, exasperated by the triumphant looks of his accusers, which they could not, or would not, conceal, he proceeded to measures which could be only deemed those of a maddened despot.

The year 1710 was ushered in with no better feeling between the governor and the members of the legislature. One of their first causes of complaint alleged against his excellency arose from the following circumstance:—

It had ever been the privilege of the house of assembly to choose their own “clerk;” but during this despotic administration, the governor overlooked this, and wished to appoint to that office a friend of his own​—​a Mr. Hinton.^[40]

This encroachment upon the assembly’s privileges gave rise to a great deal of ill feeling, and many acrimonious messages passed between his excellency and the members of that body. The following paragraph, copied from one of the governor’s speeches, alludes to this subject:—

“If you still persist that it is your undoubted privilege to choose your ‘clerk,’ and will do no business until that be yielded to you, you certainly will have the ‘Lords’ Committee’ opinion. It is an undutiful attempt upon her majesty’s prerogative; and I do assure you, gentlemen, if the queen does not appoint any other before I go, I will leave you time enough to raise money during this crop to pay off all the public debt!”^[41]

This unhandsome taunt of the governor’s was deeply felt, and resented by the “house,” who, in reply to it, remarks—

“We cannot but observe how severe and bitter your excellency reflects upon, and reproaches our country with, the not paying its debt, but compounding the same. We well remember, when the country paid your excellency 1000l. in sugar, at 12s. 6d., your excellency sold that very sugar for 18s.; so that we hope your excellency has but little reason to complain of the public compounding their debt.”

And then, in reference to a recommendation of the governor’s to enlarge the provision for the clergymen, they go on to mention—

“Your excellency next recommends to provide a better maintenance for the clergy. They are already allowed 100l.; but as we are a people so much in debt, as your excellency observes, it cannot be expected, during these troublesome times, for us to advance their salaries, especially such scandalous persons as too many of the present clergy are.”

This was only the third meeting of the legislature since the election, after a recess of three years; although, from the unsettled condition of the West Indies, (arising from the state of affairs in Europe, where Marlborough, at the head of the British forces, was engaged in frequent skirmishes with the French,) the Antiguans were in momentary expectation of an invasion. After being prorogued from the 18th of November to the 27th, (1710,) the legislature again met, but without any better feeling between the governor and the members of the assembly. A fresh cause of dispute arose, from his excellency having caused a Mr. Hill to be sworn in as clerk of the assembly, (in place of his former favourite, Mr. Hinton,) but whom the members would not recognise; and after a great deal of altercation upon the subject, that body addressed the following to the governor:—

“If your excellency’s resentment so far prevails as to despise these our propositions, and that the public affairs must with us still suffer, as unworthy your regard and consideration, we do then, as the only and last expedient, humbly propose your excellency’s visiting some other island of the government; thereby to afford us the opportunity and means, in conjunction with the lieutenant-governor and council, to provide for the public security, to heal our divisions, restore discipline, and our broken constitution, after the best manner we can. And we are unanimously of opinion, that in case your excellency rejects this our humble motion, and will not surcease such administration, as afore-mentioned, (which is so very opposite to the nature of our constitution, to the opinion of the lieutenant-governor, the council, as well as this house, and to the sense of the inhabitants in general,) we shall be under the unhappy necessity of withdrawing our obedience from you as chief governor, which, by your dispensing with her majesty’s positive command for leaving the government, we shall, in duty to her and justice to ourselves, (which we ought long since to have done;) and that this her colony, our persons and estates, may no longer be exposed to such unhappy conduct and administration, which seems entirely​—​we must say, foully​—​devoted to the ruin and destruction of all.”^[42]

After receiving this message, the unhappy, infatuated governor sent the following to the house:—

Alas, that very morning, the sun arose for the last time to him! and by a fearful and unhallowed death, he was sent with all his sins upon his head, to render in an account of his stewardship.

The cause which led to this melancholy event was this:—​Worn out with the proceedings of Colonel Parke, and looking upon him as an usurper of the government, the Antiguans threw off all restraint; and as the last remedy, determined to arm against, and force him to quit the island.

Accordingly, upon the morning of the 7th December, 1710, a large body of men, in number about 500, proceeded to Government House, in two parties​—​the one headed by Mr. Piggot, then speaker of the house of assembly; the other, by Captain Painter, another member of that body. Colonel Parke, who was not ignorant of these proceedings against him, had quartered in Government House, some time before, the soldiers stationed in the capital; and who, along with many of his private friends, (among whom was Mr. French, his historian,) had made arrangements for resisting any attack upon the governor.

Upon the approach of the armed party, Colonel Parke sent the provost-marshal (the man whose appointment to that office had given the Antiguans such offence) with a proclamation, ordering them to disperse immediately. This they refused to do; but in order, if possible, to save an effusion of blood, they despatched Nathaniel Crump, Esq., (the former speaker of the assembly,) and George Gamble, one of the council, to the governor, desiring him, in the name of the inhabitants, to discharge his guards, and quit the government, without any further contest. Colonel Parke returned for answer, “that neither threats nor fear of death should make him do so; for the queen had intrusted him with it.” Through the delegates, Mr. Crump and Mr. Gamble, he bid the assembly “sit at Parham, if they were afraid of the troops at St. John’s,” but consented at the same time to dismiss the soldiers, if six of the principal inhabitants would remain with him as hostages. As the negotiators considered the proposal of the governor’s to be far preferable to commencing hostilities, they agreed to be two of the hostages, and endeavour by their influence to obtain four more from among the assembled multitude. Many of their party, upon hearing this proposition of the governor’s, agreed with them in their opinions, and laid down their arms; but the majority of the people, fearful of any agreement made with the governor, and thinking that delays might induce others of the group to withdraw also, determined to commence the attack, and endeavour to secure the person of the governor. The two companies, headed by Captain Piggot and Captain Painter, immediately drew up before Government House, which they saluted with a warm discharge of musketry. This was returned by the governor’s party; volley succeeded volley from within and without; the balls whistled hotly around; until at length the assailants burst open the doors, and rushed into the dwelling. Captain Piggot fell by the hand of Colonel Parke, at the commencement of the affray, although it was the belief of many that Ayon, the provost-marshal and ci-devant foot-soldier, came behind him and shot him in the back. After some deaths on both sides, Colonel Parke, who had retired into his bedroom, received a shot in his thigh, which, breaking the bone, disabled him from further retreating, and the people rushing upon him, literally tore him to pieces while alive. They afterwards burnt down Government House, the ruins of which remain to this day a memento of his dreadful crimes and fearful punishment. Colonel Parke was dragged into the streets by some of his adversaries, where he remained for some time, still sensible, but suffering agonies impossible to describe, until at length his mutilated body was carried to the house of a person named Wright, who lived near to the spot, where he shortly expired. His body was deposited in the vault of the old church; but so detested was his memory, that the people broke down the pew which had been appropriated for him and his predecessors.

Some writers maintain that only the common people were concerned in the last act of this tragedy; that those of the higher rank proceeded to the house of John Yeamans, the lieutenant-governor, and quietly laid down their arms. Mr. French, the historian of Colonel Parke, writes, however, very differently upon this part of the subject; but it ought to be taken into consideration, that he was a particular friend of Colonel Parke, and consequently might give a higher colouring to the melancholy picture. He says, that when Colonel Parke lay in the street suffering the pangs of a dismembered body, the members of the house of assembly stood round reviling and insulting him in his last agonies; that among the number were Andrew Murray, Francis Carlisle, Mr. Tomlinson, and Captain Painter. I cannot believe this assertion. Although Parke was their common foe, still they must have been possessed of those feelings of honour, if not humanity, which would forbid them to triumph over a dying enemy. Mr. French goes on to state, that it was Colonel Byam who was most active in convening the inhabitants, and appointing a certain day for them to come into town well armed. This, too, has been contradicted. There were not many clergymen then upon the island; but among their number, Mr. James Field, rector of St. John’s, took the part of the people; and Mr. Baxter, rector of Parham, that of Colonel Parke.

All writers upon the West Indies mention the crimes and fate of Parke; and consequently I am obliged to follow in the wake, or else I should have buried his errors​—​or, more properly speaking, his vices​—​in oblivion.^[43]

CHAPTER VIII.

Governor Walter Hamilton​—​Walter Douglas’s Disturbances​—​Complaints against him sent to England​—​Queen Anne recalls him, and reappoints Walter Hamilton​—​Lord Viscount Lowther​—​John Hart​—​Lord Londonderry​—​Lord Forbes​—​Colonel William Crosbie.

After the death of Colonel Parke, the government, of course, devolved upon the lieutenant-governor of Antigua, John Yeamans, until such time as despatches could be forwarded to Nevis, where General Hamilton, who was next in command to the late captain-general, (and who had married the widow of Sir William Stapleton, a former governor,) was residing. Four of the members of the legislature were, accordingly, sent to General Walter Hamilton, advising him of the death of Colonel Parke, and inviting him to come to Antigua in order to assume the chief command. General Hamilton received the party with great urbanity and kindness, and accompanied them back to Antigua, where he took up his residence, for the time being, with Dr. Mackinnon, one of the actors in the late affray.^[44]

Upon the intelligence of Colonel Parke’s death reaching England, Queen Anne was very much incensed against the inhabitants of Antigua; but, after hearing the catalogue of Parke’s crimes, and in order to prevent any further effusion of blood, her majesty was graciously pleased to send a general pardon to all that were concerned in that transaction.

But although the queen thought proper to extend her clemency to the Antiguans, she made some alteration in the affairs of the Leeward Island government. General Walter Hamilton was recalled, and General Walter Douglas appointed in his room; and John Yeamans was removed from the situation of lieutenant-governor of Antigua, and that appointment conferred upon Colonel Edward Byam.

During the period General Douglas administered the government, he received instructions from England to see an act put into execution, which had been passed in the time of Christopher Codrington the younger, respecting the ascertainment of the value of current coin.

The 24th of June, 1712, Admiral Sir Hovenden Walker again visited Antigua with a fleet of seven ships under his command. Soon after his departure, M. Copard, the French admiral, with a fleet of eight ships and seventeen sloops of war, manned with about 5000 men, made an attack upon the island; but we find, from despatches sent to England by the governor, General Douglas, their attempts at landing were frustrated.

General Douglas had scarcely been two years governor before complaints against him were also despatched to England, as well as a petition from the inhabitants, praying the queen to recall him, in which petition their late governor-general, Walter Hamilton, joined. General Douglas had made himself so obnoxious, that another rebellion had almost occurred. One of his measures was to retain certain duties, which ought to have been paid into the treasury, (such as duties upon wines and liquors, &c.), for his own particular use. He also persecuted General Hamilton, and suspended him from all offices he held in the island; and upon that gentleman repairing to England to transact some private business, Colonel Douglas endeavoured to seize Dr. Mackinnon and Chief-Justice Watkins for their proceedings in the affair of Colonel Parke, as well as on the plea of another intended rebellion. These gentlemen, however, contrived to escape to England, where, from advices received from Governor Douglas, they were afterwards seized and committed to prison; but, pleading the general pardon which her majesty had issued, they were discharged without trial, although Ensign Smith, one of the asserted culprits, lay in Newgate for some months.

While these rancorous dissensions were going on between the governor and the inhabitants, orders were received for him to return to England; and, to the joy of the Antiguans, his majesty George I. re-appointed General Walter Hamilton to the government in 1715. The island was now pretty quiet; the French keeping to their own colonies without troubling their neighbours. The Antiguans, however, were still very cautious of them; and the few persons of that nation who, after the termination of the war, came to reside at Antigua, were very coldly received. This year (1715) the court of chancery was amended. Hitherto it was held by one person, which caused delays, besides other inconveniences: so that it was resolved in future it should consist of the governor, and not less than five members of the council.

Previous to this period, there was also much difficulty in recovering minor debts, owing to the want of good laws, which occasioned so much inconvenience to the merchants of Antigua that they found it necessary this year (1715) to draw up a petition, signed by twenty-six of the most influential members of their body, praying for a better settling of the island courts. In 1711, the attorney-general, Thomas Bretton, Esq., had drawn up an act “for establishing a court of queen’s bench and common pleas, and for the better regulating and settling due methods for the administration of justice,” with which the council and assembly were so well pleased, that they presented him with one hundred and forty pounds currency; but which act was so marred in the passing of it, that they themselves found it necessary to incur further expense by having another drawn up. As, however, this did not appear to have the desired effect, in 1715, (after receiving the petition from the merchants,) further and more effective measures were taken for settling law courts, and limiting a time for issuing executions out of the court of chancery.

In 1716, fresh regulations were made respecting the importation of white servants. Every owner of slaves, to the number of fifteen, was obliged to find a white man to serve in the militia; and for every twenty slaves, above fifteen, they were obliged to find another white servant. Importers of white Protestant servants could demand of the treasurer of the island eighteen pounds per head if not sold in twenty days, and further obliged the treasurer to receive such servant until sold. The general term of servitude was seven years, at the end of which period their master was to give them fifty shillings, and 400 pounds of sugar or tobacco, with a certificate of their being free. If one of these white servants married a free person without the consent of their master, that free person was to be fined 100l.; and if one servant entertained another for more than twenty-four hours at one time, the person so offending was to be publicly whipped, or serve the injured party three months; or if the entertainer was free, he was to forfeit 20l.

About this time, Governor Hamilton sent a party of settlers, under command of a Mr. Howell, from Antigua and the different Leeward Islands, to plant a colony upon Crab Island, a small island lying between Santa Cruz and Porto Rico.

In the year 1699, the Scottish or Darien Company fitted out two large ships with a cargo of articles for traffic, and arms and ammunition, intending to form a settlement in America. While on their passage, they resolved to call in at Crab Island, and leave some of their party there; but upon their arrival, finding a large tent erected on the beach, with Danish colours flying, and not wishing to have any dispute, they left the island to the Danes, and proceeded to the Isthmus of Darien. The Danes having given up the colony, the English thought it a good time to put in a claim, and accordingly, as before remarked, Governor Hamilton sent a party to colonize it.

Improvements were made about this time in the erection of mills for the purpose of grinding the sugar cane, and also in the art of sugar-boiling, which the Antiguans at that day appear to have been deficient in. Oldmixon, speaking of the sugar made in Antigua, says,—​“It is so black and coarse, that no art could fine it; and, as if our sugar bakers in England scorned to put dirt in their coppers, it was generally shipped off to Holland and Hamburg, where it was sold for 16s., when any other brought from 18s. to 19s. per hundred.”

In 1620, Lord Viscount Lowther was appointed to the government of the Leeward West India Islands, but his appointment was afterwards cancelled; and, in 1721, George I. appointed John Hart, Esq., former governor of Maryland, to be commander-in-chief of the Leeward Islands, who arrived at Antigua about the middle of the year. About this time gambling raged to a great extent in Antigua, and it was thought necessary to adopt some measures to suppress it. It was therefore ordained, in 1723, that, if any person won more than seven pounds at one sitting, or within twenty-four hours from the time they first commenced playing, they were to forfeit treble the value, half of which was to be paid into treasury for the purpose of building and repairing forts, &c., and the other half to go to the loser. It is strange that, much about the same time, this vice was very prevalent in England. Indeed, profligacy of all kinds had increased in that kingdom to an alarming extent. This was supposed to have arisen from the infatuation of the South Sea scheme, which, intoxicating the minds of the people with the prospect of imaginary wealth, led them into every excess. If any of the Antiguans had joined in this infatuation, I am unable to say. I was led into the mention of it from the fact of both countries being, at the same period, subject to the same kind of vice.

For the last few years the inhabitants of Antigua had been very much harassed by a gang of runaway slaves, from various estates, who had taken up their abode in some of the mountains and rocky parts of the island, and who were in the practice of issuing out at night, and committing many and great depredations. The leaders of this gang of vagrants were three men, of the name of Africa, Papa Will, and Sharper; and, to insure their capture, a reward of twenty pounds was offered to any person who should place either of them, dead or alive, in the hands of the provost-marshal. If any one killed a slave who had been absent from their owner three months, while in pursuit of them, he was entitled to the sum of three pounds; and when such slave was taken alive, the reward was doubled, the owner of any slave so killed being paid his or her value from the treasury. If a slave concealed, afforded nourishment to, or comforted a runaway, he was to be publicly whipped on the bare back with any number of stripes the justice of the peace thought proper to order; and if any free person so offended, such freeman was to be fined not less than ten pounds for the first offence. No person was allowed to purchase goods of a slave, under a penalty of thirty pounds for the first offence, except such things as pigs, goats, fowls, fish, or ground provision, which slaves were allowed to sell; but ginger and cotton ranked among the prohibitory articles. For the better government of this sable race, it was thought proper by those in power to restrict their diversions, and publish a decree, that all owners of slaves should allow them three days at Christmas for play-days, and no more, under a penalty of twenty pounds. Many other regulations were made, which appear at this day very harsh​—​such as not allowing slaves to plant cotton, forbidding them to assemble in parties of more than ten, punished for carrying any kind of weapon, unless in company of a white person, &c.; but, at the same time, it was enacted that if any cruelly disposed person hurt, or killed a slave, they were liable to the same punishment as if the victim had been free; thus setting a bright example to the other island, where killing a slave was looked upon, in law, as a mere trifle.

In 1725, the parish of St. Peter’s was divided into two, making Antigua to consist of six parishes, instead of five; the separated half of St. Peter’s being called St. George. The reason of this division was the great extent of the parish, which, having only one church and one chapel of ease in it, and those at a considerable distance, the parishioners had not an opportunity of attending divine worship every week. Nothing of much importance occurred during the next two years, except that the assembly of Antigua returned thanks to Captain Arthur Delgarno, commander of H.M.S. South Sea Castle, for his indefatigable exertions in these seas, in keeping away the enemy’s ships, and protecting the trade of the island: they also voted two hundred guineas to purchase a sword to present to the gallant commander, as a token of respect. It was by the suggestions of this Captain Delgarno, and Captain Cooper, of H.M.S. Lyon, in 1725, that the spacious dockyard at English Harbour was first erected.

George I. dying in the month of June, 1727, his son succeeded to the vacant throne, under the title of George II. Upon the intelligence reaching the ears of the Antiguans, he was proclaimed at Antigua with great pomp. An ox was roasted whole, and three hogsheads of beer distributed to the poor inhabitants; while a splendid entertainment was provided for the governor and the gentry of the island, at the public expense.

His majesty George II. having appointed Lord Londonderry^[45] to succeed John Hart, Esq., in the government of the Leeward Islands, that nobleman arrived at Antigua in 1728; but was detained off the port, or rather on board his vessel, which was anchored in the roadstead for some time, on account of a hurricane. About this period, the commander of H. M. S. Winchelsea took a pirate vessel, while at anchor near one of the small islands with which these seas abound; but the crew escaped, with the exception of five persons, who were brought to Antigua, and hung. These were Captain Fen, the owner and commander, his gunner, and three common sailors.

The first year of Lord Londonderry’s administration, it was privately recommended to him, by the English government, to lay before the legislature of Antigua the necessity of building barracks for the accommodation of the regiment of foot stationed in the island, or else assign them quarters, by billeting them upon the several estates, or in the towns. Hitherto, they were scattered all over the country, obtaining shelter wherever they could, and consequently, they became very disorganized. It was, however, not until the year 1741, that these recommendations were carried into effect, when barracks were erected upon Rat Island; and, in 1753, additional barracks were built at the head of the town. The Antiguans were this year alarmed by a conspiracy among the negroes, which, however, appears to have been confined to those belonging to a Mr. Crump. As upon trial they were not thought worthy of death, it was resolved to banish eight of the principal offenders, who were to be sent to Maryland or Virginia, or else sold to such persons who would agree to transport them to the Spanish coasts, with the proviso that if they returned to Antigua, they were immediately to be executed.

A thousand pounds were granted to his excellency Thomas Pitt, Earl of Londonderry, this year, in addition to the usual salary; and the emoluments arising from a duty of 3s. 6d. per ton, upon all vessels clearing from the island, having on board native produce, was also settled upon him as long as he continued in the government. As, however, the next year, (1729,) transient factors were allowed exemptions from the charge of 3s. 6d. per ton, (on the ground of their paying 2l. for every 100l. imported,) which would tend to decrease the governor’s salary, a further sum of a thousand pounds was granted to supply all deficiencies. As there had been no government house erected since the affair of Colonel Parke, the Antiguans renting a house for that purpose, which was attended with some disadvantage, Lord Londonderry recommended to the council and assembly the necessity of building a government house, pointing out at the same time that the want of such an accommodation for their governors might thereafter prove disadvantageous to the Antiguans. This advice, however, appears not to have been followed, for it was not until after 1800, that the present government house was erected. The laws of Antigua were also this year recommended to be sent to the agent in England, to have them printed.

Many other regulations were gone into, tending to the welfare of Antigua; and it was also resolved that if any members of the council and assembly were absent, and could not give a satisfactory cause, such absentees were to forfeit 5l., and were sometimes even expelled. During the government of this nobleman, a bill passed the two houses of parliament, which had been long pending, granting encouragement to the sugar colonies, of which Antigua had become one of the most flourishing. Lord Londonderry did not live more than a year and a half after his appointment; and, upon his demise, the Right Honourable Lord Forbes was nominated to the vacant government. The country voted a sum of money for his reception, and a house was engaged for him; but, after waiting for about six months, and no governor making his appearance, it was given up, and the government devolved to William Mathew the lieut.-governor. The same year, however, Brigadier-general William Crosbie was appointed captain-general; but it appears he did not accept the office, or the appointment was cancelled by the home government; for in the following year he removed to New York, where he became governor.

CHAPTER IX.

Governor William Mathew​—​Insurrection of the Negroes​—​A Legend of the Ravine​—​Punishment of the Conspirators.

In 1730, William Mathew, Esq., the lieutenant-governor, succeeded to this government, vacant by the non-acceptance of Lord Forbes and General William Crosbie; and, in the first year of his appointment, fresh regulations were made for the payment of such slaves as suffered death for crimes, according to the ancient custom of the island. The affairs of Fort James were also looked into. In 1680, Colonel James Vaughan, of Antigua, had granted to his majesty Charles II. and his successors, a certain promontory, generally known as St. John’s Point, for the purpose of building a fort, and for the support of the matrosses. This had been done as far as the erection of Fort James; but the other part of the land was not used; and consequently, this year, (1730,) it was determined that it should be given to the matrosses; only reserving a part which might be wanted for the purpose of building hospitals or magazines. In 1731, Antigua suffered very much from a long drought; when the want of water was so excessive, that a pail of that fluid sold for 3s. The following year (1732) amendments were made in the court of chancery. By the regulations of 1715, this court was made to consist of the captain-general or governor-in-chief, and five or more members of council; but as his excellency was not always upon the island when such courts were held, great delays were occasioned, and it was determined that in future the president of Antigua should, in the absence of the governor, or lieutenant-governor, preside.

After a temporary absence, the Lieutenant-governor William Mathew returned to Antigua in the early part of the year 1733, assuming the government as captain-general of the Leeward Islands, and presented his additional instructions to the council and assembly, directing that body to be no longer restricted, as formerly, from making any additional allowance to the salary of 1200l. per annum, allowed by the home government, namely:—​“Whereas, it has been represented to us, that the salary of 1200l. sterling per annum, which we have hitherto thought fit to allow out of the duty of four-and-a-half per cent., arising in our Leeward Islands, for our governor-in-chief of these islands, is not at present sufficient for his support and the dignity of that our government, we have taken the same into our consideration, and are graciously pleased to permit and allow that the respective assemblies of our said islands may, by any act or acts, settle upon you such sum or sums, in addition to your salary of 1200l. per annum, as they shall think proper; and you are hereby allowed to give your assent to any act or acts of assembly to that purpose. Provided, such sum or sums be settled on you and your successors in that government; at least on you during the whole time of your government there, and that the same be done by the first respective assemblies of our said island after your arrival there.”

In accordance with this new arrangement, the council and assembly readily granted an annual sum of 1000l. Antigua currency.

In 1734, copper coins were imported from England, and passed at about the same rate they do at this day. Bayonets were also introduced this year into Antigua, for the use of the militia, they having been found to answer so well in the late wars in Flanders. These weapons obtained their name from being first manufactured at Bayonne, in France.

The events of the year 1736 were such as to strike horror into the hearts of all the white inhabitants of Antigua. The negroes, who, as we have before seen, attempted an insurrection in 1728, attributed their want of success to the fact of their having no regular plan; and accordingly they chose one of their tribe, a very powerful black man, to be their king; and vowed to render to him the strictest homage, and follow his every order. This man, whose real name was “Klaas,” although his master called him Count, was a person of undaunted courage and strong resolve; and, was it not on account of the demise of Governor Mathew’s son, which frustrated their original plan of blowing up government house (or at least the house which was hired for the governor at Clark’s Hill) with gunpowder, the night a grand ball was to be given in honour of the anniversary of the king’s coronation, no doubt Antigua would have been another “Hayti,” and “Klaas” another “Christophe.”

There is still an old tradition, which relates to this melancholy subject; and as it may not prove uninteresting to some of my readers, I will give it in a newer dress.

The Fate of Klaas.

A LEGEND OF THE RAVINE.

At a late period in the evening of the 3rd of October, 1736, two horsemen might be seen riding slowly along the high road which leads from the capital to English Harbour. The eldest of these travellers was probably past the meridian of life; but his round florid face bore not a mark of care, nor could a single wrinkle be detected upon his open forehead. Age, indeed, had tinged his hair with grey, and, perhaps, slightly bent his form; but had neither depressed his spirits nor robbed his laughing blue eye of its lustre. In person he was tall and robust; and although jollity was written upon every feature, he possessed at the same time that air of determination which would make few wish to thwart him in his views, or offer an insult that was sure to be resented. The animal he bestrode was of a coal-black, and, like his master, bore his years well. Logo, as he was called, had often followed the hounds in “merrie England;” and, when his master came to take possession of a property in Antigua, his faithful steed, the sharer of many a long day’s sport, was not to be left behind.

The companion of this first-mentioned traveller was, in every respect, far different. Scarcely had seventeen summers passed over his head; and his slight, but well-formed person, was in direct contrast to the large and heavy make of his friend. His rich brown locks clustered around his lofty brow unspoiled by powder; but in his large dark eye, consumption had lit its fire, and flushed, at times, his naturally pale cheek.

“Come, Edward,” said the elder traveller, addressing the youth; “we must mend our pace, lad: here’s Logo champing his bit with every mark of anger at being kept with tightened reign: the old fellow has too much mettle still left to like this hippopotamus trot, when he has an hungry stomach, and the prospect of a well-stored stable before him.”

“Ay, uncle; and one there is at home, who must be as anxiously looking for us, as Logo is for his stable.”

“What, Marien? Well, I dare say the girl feels the loss of her cousin Edward from the side of her spinet, if she don’t her old father from his settle in the gallery. Women love those little attentions you know so well to offer; and Marien would miss you from tuning her lute, or turning the pages of her music book, as I should old Logo, were anything to happen to him. Dame Nature has made you, boy, to shine in lady’s bower, more, I think, than in tented field.”

The deepest hectic sprang to the face of the youth, as his uncle uttered these words, and a half-smothered sigh broke from his lips, which, catching the attention of his companion, caused him to turn and look ardently at him.

“Nay, dearest Edward, I meant not to distress you; I hope your trip to these sunny shores may restore you to stronger health; and then you may follow the steps of your brave father, and fight your country’s battles. But we must not loiter any longer upon the road; for, in truth, I like not the appearance of the night, and we have no shelter near. I care not for myself, for I have weathered too many a storm to shrink from a sprinkling; but you are still delicate; and your cousin Marien will scold me for having already kept you out in the heavy night dew of this climate.”

So saying, they gave their steeds the rein, and dashed on, throwing the loose pebbles with which the road was strewed, on every side.

The night, indeed, was far from promising; the wind blew in sudden gusts, and whirled the dead leaves on every side. A low moaning sound came from the distant mountains, the sure forerunner of a storm; while peals of thunder broke upon the ear. The black clouds drifted rapidly along the sky, and several meteors gilded the night with their evanescent glories. Suddenly a deep silence prevailed, broken only by the sound of the horses’ feet upon the flinty road, as the benighted travellers struck their rowels into the sides of the animals, to urge them to greater speed. But this boding silence did not last long; the wind again rose with redoubled violence​—​the thunder rolled in awful peals​—​and a sheet of vivid lightning covered the whole face of the heavens; clap followed clap in rapid succession, shaking the very earth to its centre; the rain came down in torrents, yet still the red-winged lightning struggled through it, and kept up its terrific fire.

A moment’s pause in the storm gave the elder traveller time to exclaim​—​“Well, Edward, my prognostications have proved true, have they not? Poor Marien must indeed feel anxious;” when, just at this instant, a dark object issued out of a kind of ravine which appeared on one side of the road, and darted across the path close to the horses’ heads. “What was that?” continued the speaker. “Was it man or animal? My glance was so momentary, that indeed I know not.” “A boy,” returned his companion, “an’ my eyes deceived me, or it was Marien’s dumb page.” “What! Julio? Impossible! What could the boy do abroad in such a night? unless”​—​and the speaker paused; “unless, indeed, Marien sent him forth to gain some tidings of us; for although the poor little fellow was born deaf and dumb, he has the brightest intellect and swiftest foot of any negro I ever knew. I have often promised to tell you his story; and as the tempest seems to have worn away a little, I may as well give it now, which will tend to make the road seem the shorter.

“Julio’s mother was the foster-parent of my own Marien, although at that period she did not belong to me. But she was a great favourite of my wife’s, and for that reason we hired her to nurse our child; and after my wife’s death, I purchased her from her old master, who was a friend of mine. Nuno was a very superior negress; and was it not on account of her husband, ‘Count,’ whom I pointed out to you the other day as the reputed king of the negroes, I do really think she might have been living now. She never would say what he did to her, or indeed make any complaint against him; but I am certain there was something mysterious about it; for when afterwards she was confined with Julio, she made it her dying request to me that Count might never know the child was his, or the boy be told who his father was. This ‘Count,’ as he is called, although I believe he bears another name, made a great deal of talk in the country some few years ago. It appears, his master had him severely flogged for a trifling offence, and Count ran away; but he afterwards came back, and all was forgiven, although his master might have had him hung for it, without any loss to himself. There is a law of the island, which punishes with death any negro who runs away for longer than three months, and the country pays their value to their owners. I heard a flying report of an intended insurrection of the negroes while we were in town to-day; but for my part, I give no credit to it. They have not forgotten the rebellion of Crump’s negroes yet, and the punishment awarded to the offenders, which will keep them quiet, at least for a little time. I have heard, that Count was concerned in that affair; but none of the culprits mentioned his name; and although, from the character of the man, I should not think it unlikely, for the sake of poor Juno, I would not accuse him. But to return to Julio. His mother died immediately after his birth, and no one but ourselves, and his mother’s brother, a slave named Cuffee, know who is his father. Upon finding the poor child was deaf and dumb, our hearts have been drawn the closer to him; and as soon as my affairs are arranged in this island, I shall return to England, and intend carrying Julio with me.”

By this time, the travellers had gained an ascent, and before them was spread a cluster of negro-huts, various out-buildings, and works of a flourishing estate; while on the top of another eminence stood the hospitable mansion of the owner. In a moment, all was bustle. “Massa come home!” was shouted from one to another, as a party of black boys and men started from their slumbers upon the dry trash, and ran to take the horses. After seeing Logo properly attended to, the travellers walked to the house, where, at an open jalousie, a slight figure, whose graceful outline bespoke it Marien’s, was seen watching their progress. The family party having once more met, and a thousand inquiries as to their ride &c. having been made, Marien touched a silver bell, and a domestic entering, orders were given to send in Julio. “By-the-bye,” exclaimed the elder gentleman, “didst thou send forth Julio in search of your absentees to-night, Marien?”​—​“No, dearest father; Julio has not left the anteroom since dinner, that I am aware of. Anxious as I was to gain tidings of you, the night was too inclement to send the poor child abroad. But why do you ask that question?”​—​“Oh! nothing; only that our bright-eyed Edward thought he saw him cross the road at the ravine down yonder; but I think it must have been a dog, or something of the kind. However, to be certain, I mentioned it to you.” At this moment the door opened, and Julio entered. He had, perhaps, attained his eighth year; but from his diminutive form, a stranger would have thought him even younger. His dress was a kind of white tunic embroidered with crimson, and a broad belt of gilded leather, with tassels of bullion, gathered it in folds around his slender waist. Smart silk stockings encased his legs, and white leather shoes, ornamented with gold, graced his little feet. When abroad, a small crimson cap, in which was placed a single ostrich feather, reposed upon his head: its snowy plume strangely contrasting with his ebon complexion. It was Marien’s whim to dress her page in this fantastic manner, and her indulgent parent never thwarted her in any of her little pleasures.

The deficiencies of poor Julio’s external faculties did not extend to his intellects. The slightest action of Marien’s was noticed by him, and her every wish gratified, if possible. Did a shade pass over her brow, he flew for her lute, or arranged her books at the spinet; did a smile illuminate her face, Julio jumped for joy. It was his task to gather for her the sweetest fruits, and range the tangled copse and dell to cull the fairest flowers; and when she walked abroad, he attended the steps of his young mistress, and swept from her path every noisome insect. Bright were the eyes of Julio, and joyous was the look expressed in his dark round face; but on this evening, when, at the summons of his mistress, he stood before her, every one was struck with the alteration in his appearance. His cheek was blanched to an unearthly hue​—​his eyes, bloodshot and dim, sought the floor; while a shudder seemed to run through his frame, as if he saw some dreaded form. To the anxious inquiries of the party, expressed by significant gestures, the boy only shook his head, while a darker shade of sadness passed over his brow. Thinking that a slight degree of illness was the cause, Marien kindly dismissed him to his repose, in hopes the morrow’s dawn would restore him to his usual gaiety, and rising from her seat, placed in her father’s hand a small billet. “A grand ball at Government House, eh! to be given in honour of our good king’s coronation. What say you to that, young people? Wilt thou pay thy devotions at the shrine of the laughter-loving muse? No doubt, all the beauty and fashion of Antigua will be there. But come, the hour is past midnight; and if I keep our Marien up so late, she will lose the last of her roses she brought from Old England.” So saying, the party separated for the night; and the scene changes to another spot, at an earlier hour.

* * * * *

In one of the deepest parts of a ravine grew a variety of tangled bushes, which clothed it to its very bottom with their verdant foliage. Disrupted rocks were thickly scattered about, over which glided the speckled snake, while cricket and frog kept up an incessant chirping. About the commencement of the storm already described, a dark figure was seen slowly, but firmly descending the steep bank of the ravine, whose nearer approach bespoke him a son of Ham, one who wore the chain of bondage. In height he measured about six feet, while his broad chest and muscular arms shewed his Herculean strength. His complexion was of the deepest jet, and his large black eye shone with the fierceness of a firebrand. A mantle of dark blue cloth was wrapt around his form, leaving his arms and legs bare; and his head was bound round with a scarlet handkerchief, the ends of which floated in the breeze with graceful negligence. In one hand he bore a massive club, which assisted his steps in his descent; while the other rested upon a horse-pistol, which, heavily loaded, lay hid in the folds of his garment. Upon gaining the bottom of the ravine, he looked cautiously around; and then, as if satisfied all was right, he raised a conch-shell to his lips, and blew a low but clear blast. This repeated thrice, he seated himself upon one of the rocks; and burying his face in his hands, mused in silence, unmindful of the threatening appearance of the heavens. But a few minutes passed, when he again started to his feet, and blew a louder blast, which at a short interval was answered by a low whistle; and the crackling of dry leaves (as if trodden under foot) proclaimed the approach of other visitants. Drawing the pistol from its confinement, the first occupant of the ravine stepped a few paces forward, and, in a voice rendered thick by contending passions, demanded the word. “Death to our foes!” was the answer; and in another moment, about forty negroes stood around their king. “Welcome, brave friends, to this lone spot; for here at least we can feel we are free, and bid defiance to the hated whites. But where is Morah? Surely she will not desert us, Tomboy?” And he directed his looks to a short stout man, who ranked as his general, and answered to that name, and who had taken up his post at the right shoulder of his sable majesty. “Oh, no; Morah knows too well to desert Klaas at his need. Believe not that,” returned the man. “We should have been here long before, but she was knocked up with her walk, and we were obliged to wait her will. But see!”​—​and touching the arm of Klaas, he pointed to two lusty youths who were coming down the bank, bearing between them some object, which could scarcely be pronounced human. Placing their burden safely at the feet of Klaas, the young men drew back, while he, giving her his hand, raised and placed her upon a rocky seat near himself. The woman, (for so she proved,) although looking more like the habitant of another world, must have numbered her hundredth year. Her face, which had lost its naturally black hue from age and sickness, was puckered up in a thousand wrinkles; while her toothless gums were seen through her thick open lips. The few hairs which time had left her were bleached to a snowy white; but her black eyes had lost none of their brightness: they gleamed from beneath her overhanging brow with a supernatural ray. Her form was bent almost double, and the skin hung about her hands and arms like black and shrivelled parchment. An old blanket partly covered her attenuated person, which she firmly grasped with her long bony fingers; but it afforded her no defence against the inclemency of the evening; for she shivered and trembled at every blast. Such was Morah, the old Obeah woman,^[46] who was hated, yet dreaded, by nearly all her tribe.

“Morah,” said the leader of the band, after she had rested for a few minutes, “Morah, dost thou not know me? hast thou forgot the purpose for which we have met? The time is short, remember.”

“Oh, no, no! me no forget,” said the old crone; “me know you very well; you’re ‘Count,’ the negro king, as you call yourself, but your massa call you ‘Count the Runaway,’” and she laughed demoniacally.

“Call me Klaas,” shrieked the negro; “oh! call me not Count​—​the name of my servitude​—​the name those detested whites gave me when, torn from all my heart holds dear, and forced into their ships, they brought me to this country, and sold me, for a miserable pittance, to the man I despise​—​the man who, for a small fault, had me flogged until the blood gushed down my back. Yes! flogged me, who was born heir to a kingdom, and who followed the chase in my own bright land, free as the zephyr which kisses its sunny mountains, until the fortunes of war made me the despised, degraded slave I am. Call me not ‘Count,’ I say; for every misery I have ever borne is recalled by that hated name. Why was it I spurned poor Nuno from me, and embittered her after life? Because, in a moment of repose​—​when the weary toil of the day was over​—​seated before our hut in the bright moonbeam, I talked to her of Africa, and of my hopes of soon escaping from my degraded state, she raised the demon within me by calling me ‘Count,’ when I had taught her to use no other name but ‘Klaas;’ and thus bringing all my wrongs before me, I vowed to sacrifice our child to the gods of my country should its eyes ever see the light. Oh, then, call me not ‘Count’ in this wild ravine, where everything breathes an air of freedom, although I am obliged to bear it (but not for long, I hope) before the abhorred Christians. Oh! call me not ‘Count.’ unless—” and he flung his arms on high, while his eyeballs rolled in fire, and every nerve quivered with emotion​—​“unless you wish to see me, like the hunted lanté turn on all alike. But enough;”​—​and by strong effort he mastered his turbulent passions, although the perspiration flowed from off his forehead in large drops, and his breast heaved like the stormy billow;​—​“I came not here to-night to recite my wrongs, or the wrongs of these my comrades; but to plan our redemption from them, and the destruction of our enemies. To business, then. But first let me ask you, Morah, has Obeah given the sign?”

“An’ think you me come here to-night had he not?” returned the old woman, doggedly; “ay, that he has, and a good sign it is; but p’raps you no want white man dead, eh? And again the hag uttered her horrible laugh, which seemed still more so in the midst of a clap of thunder, while her miserable form looked more unearthly in the lightning’s flash.

“Death to our foes!” broke from the lips of the leader, which was repeated by all the band; and then breaking up the circle in which they had been standing, they proceeded to prepare the different articles used in their superstitious orgies, under the inspection of old Morah, while Klaas and his general, Tomboy, conferred apart.

A large hole being dug in the middle of the ravine, and all things properly arranged, the king and his companion were called; when, joining in a rank around the opening, the mysterious rites began. Morah, squatting at one end of the aperture, called upon Obeah, under the title of Nzambiampongee, to assist them in the extirpation of their foes; and after many a mumbled incantation, proceeded to bury in the hole small quantities of gunpowder, rusty iron, a little money, and a portion of human hair; while Klaas added to the heap by throwing in a few bujis.^[47] After another incantation was chanted by them all, the hole was carefully covered over with black dog-bush,^[48] and the earth once more thrown in and pressed down. At this moment a night-raven screeched, and Morah interpreted it as a kindly sign from Obeah; whilst a beautiful speckled snake, gliding over the spot, was greeted by Klaas as his country’s god. This ceremony over, Morah departed, and other business was discussed. Seated upon his rustic throne, Klaas issued his mandates to his attentive subjects, who, stretched around, looked up to him as their presiding divinity.

“In eight days’ time,” began their king, in a distinct and audible tone, “there is to be a ball given by the governor, in honour, they say, of their king, and as all our tyrants are expected to be present, it has been determined to make that night the scene of our grand endeavours, that, at one stroke, shall destroy our enemies, and make us once more free. Under yonder bushes, where the earth looks fresh, are buried the kegs of gunpowder which we have, at various times, been enabled to collect; and the night before the ball takes place do you, Quashey Coonah, make it your business to remove them carefully up to Clark’s hill, where Harry, who has been lately hired there, will have them placed under the cellar. Frank, I look to you to take care of what arms we have procured, and also to distribute them. You will also have those bills sharpened​—​they may prove very useful. I make it my duty to fire the train about the time the moon rises above the top of yon mountain, while Tomboy will lead the party who is to prevent any of the whites escaping. Hercules will lay in wait with his band at the entrance of the town; so that, when the flames rise high, and the inhabitants hasten to give them assistance, he may fall upon them and prevent them. I have sent him and Jemmy to meet a large party of negroes up to windward to-night, who, no doubt, will aid us with their force; and as many of them are in the habit of going out shooting for their masters, they may be able to add a little to our stock of powder. Ned, do you try and obtain what arms you can; in such a cause, any means are fair.

“Ah! that I will, King Klaas; and look what I have brought you to-night,” and turning round, he drew from its sheath a blade of the finest steel; “what say you to Massa Colonel’s own good sword. He told me to take care of it to-day, after he had done looking at it, and to put it carefully up; and so I have, ah! ah!” and Ned laughed until the water ran down his cheeks.

“That’s right, my fine fellow!” exclaimed Klaas; and taking it from the hand of his comrade, he examined, with intense interest, its shining surface. After some moments had passed in this employment, he replaced it carefully in its sheath, and, with something like a sigh, exclaimed,—​“Well, I have been driven to this. They might have made me their friend, but harshness, contempt, and insult, has conspired to render me what I am; and for this bright weapon, perhaps the gallant Colonel Morgan has often drawn it in a far less worthy cause. But hist! I hear the sound of horses’ feet, and it is time we part. At the close of three more days, meet me here again to receive final orders; till then, farewell; and remember our motto​—​‘Death to our foes!’” So saying, Klaas rose from his seat, and grasping once more his club, prepared to depart. At this moment, however, a slight rustle was heard among the brushwood, as if some person was retreating, and Klaas, drawing his pistol from his bosom, started forward in that direction, followed by the others. “What could it be?” was the anxious inquiry, when, after a strict search, no object met their view. “What, indeed!” replied their chief; “if it was any of our friends, why did they not come forward; but if it was a foe​—​a spy​—​our plans of vengeance will be defeated, and we ourselves dragged to a felon’s death;” and he ground his teeth at the thought. As nothing else could be done, they once more bade good night, and departed to their respective homes, leaving Klaas and his general to make one more attempt to discover the cause of the noise.

* * * * *

Six times had the chariot of the sun rolled along the heavens, and bright-eyed Phœbus sought his golden couch, since the conspirators gathered around their king in that wild and silent glen. Among the inhabitants of Antigua nothing was talked of but the governor’s ball, which was to be upon the grandest scale imaginable. Many a young heart beat high at the prospect of its gaieties, and many a bright eye grew brighter at the thoughts of the conquests to be made on that eventful night. The few shops which dealt in European fashions were crowded from morning to night with fair visitants, or their femmes de chambre; and laces and bugles, catgut and tiffany, were in constant demand. The busy sempstresses plied their needles with double speed; and various were the flounces and furbelows, pinkings and quiltings, they invented. In the midst of this bustle and activity, this anticipation of joyous festivities, a plaint of distress was borne down upon the gale: the governor’s best-beloved son​—​the hope and pride of his parents​—​tossed his fevered head upon the couch of sickness; and in a few short hours, that beautiful and blooming youth lay a stiffened corse.

* * * * *

In a large but well-arranged apartment, whose open jalousies admitted the evening breeze, loaded with the fragrance of the Arabian jasmine, were seated three persons. Two out of the group ranked under the lofty title of “lords of the creation;” but the third was a young and beautiful creature, whose elegant figure and flowing ringlets bespoke her one of Nature’s fairest flowers. Reclining upon a fauteuil, she drew from a lute sounds so soft and sweet that every sense was held in thraldom; and anon, when she joined her liquid voice, and sang of other days, few were there who would wish to break the spell. But the spell was ordained to be broken​—​broken in a sudden manner. The door opened hastily, and a negro, darting into the middle of the room, exclaimed, in a voice of terror​—​“Massa, me must speak with you!”​—​“What’s the matter?” returned our elder acquaintance, rising up, “what’s the matter, Cuffee? You frightened us by your sudden entrance, and sent my Marien’s roses back to her heart.”​—​“Beg your pardon, massa, and yours, young missis, but me have something to tell you make your ears ring again: but, massa, where’s Julio?​—​please let him come in.” And without waiting for an answer, he left the room in search of the boy. “Marien, dearest,” said her father, “take your cousin’s arm, and retire for a little, until I have heard what the mad fellow has to say: his foolish nonsense has frightened you more than I like to see.” And fondly pressing his daughter’s hand, he led her to the door.

In a few minutes Cuffee returned with the boy Julio, who wore the same downcast look as he did on the evening of the storm; and, holding the boy by the hand, gave his master the following narration. Julio, who, from being deaf and dumb, appeared to possess the other senses in a higher degree, had one evening observed a strange negro loitering about his master’s estate, and hiding behind the bushes when any one passed. Thinking this peculiar, the dumb boy determined to watch his proceedings, and if he discovered anything wrong, to endeavour to acquaint his master with it. After spending more than an hour in this employment, the stranger departed, and Julio, unable to comprehend his motives, and fearful of not being understood, kept his discovery to himself. Some weeks had elapsed, and he had almost forgotten the circumstance, when, on the evening before the storm, he saw the same person lurking about the same spot; and, watching him unobserved, perceived he was shortly joined by a slave, of the name of Quelch, who, for repeated bad behaviour, had been punished by his master a few weeks before. After they had consulted for some time together, the stranger pointed in the direction of the ravine; and putting his hand under his cloak, drew forth a long sharp-pointed knife, which he shewed to his companion, giving at the same time a peculiar look. The knife being returned to its owner, the negroes parted, leaving Julio with the determination of watching Quelch more strictly.

On the next evening, leaving his young mistress engaged with a book, the boy left the house with the intention of going to look for his master; and, upon gaining the high road, he saw Quelch entering an opening on the other side. Following his steps, he hid himself among the bushes, and thus became a witness of that lawless meeting, where, although he could not hear the words uttered, he saw enough to inform him some evil was intended. Frightened, and uncertain how to tell his discovery, his first care was to reach home; and, harassed in mind and body, the poor child stood before his mistress in the manner described. The next morning, he sought his uncle Cuffee, and, by significant gestures and passionate mutterings, at length made him understand the above relation. Cuffee’s first care was to inform a friend of his of the name of Robin, and these two negroes watched the ravine every night in hopes of discovering what poor Julio could not inform them​—​the names of the conspirators. All, however, remained silent: the ravine had no occupants: and Robin and Cuffee were almost inclined to think they had misunderstood the boy, when, one evening, just as they had gained their accustomed post, they thought they heard the sound of voices; and, creeping upon their hands and knees, espied the whole band, with Klaas, or, as they called him, “Count,” at their head, plotting their dreadful schemes. Knowing that this negro king was the father of Julio, Cuffee liked not to inform against him; and the next morning bringing intelligence of the death of the governor’s son, and consequently the prorogation of the ball, he was in hopes the negroes would get disheartened at the failure of their plans, and forego their horrible intentions. Still he determined to keep an eye upon their movements; and a few weeks after, through the medium of another slave, named Manuel, he discovered that the conspirators intended to put their designs into execution on the 15th of December; and that they were to have a final meeting in the ravine, to receive orders from their king.

These were the tidings Cuffee conveyed to his master’s ear​—​tidings which made his stout heart beat faster, and caused a shade of care, for once, to cross his brow. The time was short: the next night was the one on which the negroes were to meet, and Mr. ———, after leaving a kind message to his daughter, to excuse his absence, started immediately for the capital, accompanied by Robin and Cuffee, to lay the information before the proper authorities.

* * * * *

The evening was calm. There was no moon, but the stars shone bright, and, by their refulgence, parties of men were seen walking cautiously along in the same direction. Every now and then they stopped as if to listen, and then proceeded again, as no sound met their ear. Leaving the high road, they struck across a wild and sterile plain, until, arriving at the bank of a kind of rocky defile, where the sable conspirators held their nocturnal meetings, they separated; and taking up their position on all sides, and holding their very breath, they presented more the appearance of marble statues than living men. After remaining in this situation for some time, a noise was heard as the tramp of a body of horse passing over a flinty road​—​no uncommon occurrence at that period. The sound came nearer and nearer, and presently a large band of soldiers appeared in sight, led by a middle-aged officer, and accompanied by several gentlemen. Riding for a short distance past the ravine, the word was given, “Halt!” and in a moment the horses stood motionless. “Dismount!” broke from the lips of the commander, and the men, all heavily armed, sprang to the ground. Walking quickly forward, they joined the watchers around the ravine, while their leader, followed by many others, bounded down the bank, and exclaimed, in a stentorian tone, “Surrender! or you are dead men.” All was confusion among the assembled conspirators. Hemmed in on all sides, and daunted by the gleaming arms and pointed muskets of the soldiers, who came so silently but surely upon them, the negro band were driven to despair. Klaas alone maintained his firmness, and shouted in a voice of thunder, “Fire the gunpowder, lads, fire the gunpowder, and let us die as brave men, and not as cowards. Who will mourn the fate which will be shared by our hated tyrants!” But this was not to be. Overpowered by numbers, their arms tightly pinioned behind them, their mouths gagged, and held between two soldiers, negro after negro was marched off​—​the ravine was left to its usual silence​—​and the reign of “Klaas,” the “Slave King,” was over.

So ends the legend. The conspirators being conveyed to the capital, various were the punishments awarded them. Klaas, or, as he was more generally called, “Count,” Tomboy, and Hercules were broken alive upon the wheel. In their last moments their fortitude did not forsake them; and their last words expressed their hatred to the whites. Some were gibbeted alive in a place called Green’s Bay. Frank, who belonged to E. Chester, Esq., and several more, were burned in Otto’s pasture, at the outskirts of the capital; and the rest, who were looked upon as the dupes of their reputed king, were transported to the Spanish coasts. Quelch was pardoned: he played the traitor’s part, and amused the ear of Klaas and his comrades with some chimerical scheme while the soldiers passed by who accomplished their destruction; and old Morah, the Obeah woman who attended their meetings, escaped punishment by falling a prey to death before her trial. So signal was the victory obtained, and so severe the punishment of the conspirators, that the remaining slaves became intimidated, and quietly bore their yoke without seeking for deliverance. In 1739, the country emancipated Cuffee and Robin for their discovery of this insurrection, paying to their masters their respective value, and presented Manuel with a reward for his services in that affair.^[49]

CHAPTER X.

Governor William Mathew​—​Sir George Thomas, Bart.​—​James Verchild​—​Honourable William Woodley​—​Sir Ralph Payne​—​Hon. Craister Greathead​—​General Burt​—​The circumstances of his death​—​Sir Thomas Shirley, Bart.

After the suppression of the insurrection related in the last chapter, it was resolved in future to keep a better watch over the negroes, and be more strict in the government of them. Slaves were not to be allowed to congregate about the streets of St. John’s; and if they refused to disperse, when ordered to do so, it was justifiable to fire upon them: the country paying for those who were shot. If any of the negroes were suspected of treasonable practices, conspiracies, or insurrections, they were to suffer torture, not extending to death; but in case any of them died under the pain of having a limb cut off, &c., the owner of such slaves received the value of them from the public treasury.

The inhabitants appear to have been quite alarmed at the state of affairs, particularly as there were but few white people still upon the island compared with the negroes. In 1740-1, it was again taken into consideration how to increase the number; and after some deliberation, it was determined to give further encouragement for the importation of white servants, by adding a bounty of 40s. to that already given. It was also ordained, that every owner or renter of slaves should, for every thirty negroes, have a white man in his employ, under a penalty of 20l. for each, according to the number of slaves. This gave rise to the custom of building “free tenancies,” which were houses given to white persons to reside in, without receiving rent for the same; and by this means, the proprietor escaped the obligation which the law enforced of employing so many white servants or overseers.

In 1741, Rat Island, as it is called, although in reality a promontory, was purchased by the country, and barracks and fortifications erected thereon. War having broken out between England and France, the Antiguans suffered very much in their commerce. Commodore Lee had been sent out to protect the trade, but, it appears, he did not act like a British officer; for when stationed off Antigua, he allowed a French fleet of merchantmen and their convoy to pass his vessels without molestation, and actually captured some of the Antigua coasters. In 1747, complaints against him were sent home, and Commodore Legge was despatched to Antigua, with full power to try the case. The Antiguans were obliged this year to purchase and maintain a vessel to protect their small crafts, so harassed were they by the French privateers.

The lieutenant-governor of Antigua, Colonel George Lucas, died this year, (1747,) at Brest, where he was detained prisoner, having been taken by a French vessel of war, on his way to England the year before. The following year, (1748,) a petition was sent home, praying his majesty for satisfaction for the injury suffered by the incursions of the French. About this period, the court-house was commenced to be built, on the spot where the market used to be held. Hitherto a house was rented for that purpose, which was found to be very inconvenient, for many reasons; and as there was no particular place appointed for the offices of the secretary or provost-marshal, it was found expedient to erect such building as soon as possible, and appropriate a part of it for those offices.

In 1752, George Thomas, Esq., succeeded his excellency William Mathew, Esq., in the government of Antigua, and the rest of the Leeward Islands, as captain-general. The following year (1753) a fund was raised to purchase land, for the purpose of building additional barracks for the accommodation of the regiment of foot stationed in Antigua, and also building a guard-house in the town of St. John’s. In the same year, an additional support for his excellency, George Thomas, was appointed to be paid to him during his government. The erection of a new church at Parham was commenced in 1755; a yearly tax having been imposed upon the inhabitants, for the expense of the erection, and for keeping it afterwards repaired. This year, too, it was found, that the white inhabitants had so materially decreased in number, notwithstanding strenuous measures had been taken since 1716 to encourage the importation of them, that it was thought necessary to offer further inducements to white persons to emigrate from England to this colony. In order that this object should be more fully carried out, heavier penalties were also this year enforced upon proprietors and renters of negroes, if they neglected to have in their employ a white Protestant person for every thirty slaves; for many owners had evaded the law, by paying the penalty, rather than be obliged to maintain a white servant. The number of white inhabitants at this period was but little more than 3000, while the negroes amounted to about 32,000. In 1757, a portion of land was appropriated for building a house for the accommodation of the train of artillery in the town of St. John’s.

In 1758, the French threatened an invasion of Antigua. War had broken out between England, and France; and, as was always the case in such times, the French began to plague their English neighbours in the West Indies. The Antiguans, hearing of their intentions, hastily equipped several privateers to cruise about the island, which were fortunate enough to take some prizes, and intimidate the French. It was found by experience, that these privateers injured the French more in their commerce than even the men-of-war; and for this reason, the country gave great encouragement to the fitters-out of such vessels.

The following year, (1759,) Commodore Moore commanded the Leeward Island station, and the brave Captain Tyrrel was ordered to protect the island of Antigua. This gentleman, whose courage and activity were equal to his conduct and circumspection, had, early in the month of March previous, demolished a fort at Martinique, and destroyed four privateers riding under its protection. On his return to Antigua, he discovered a large fleet of the enemy’s; and giving immediate chase, attended by the “Weazle” man-of-war, he quickly came up with them, and after a desperate fight, scattered and dispersed them. Capt. Tyrrel was wounded in the face, and lost three of the fingers of his right hand. This year, too, the island of Guadaloupe was taken by the English; and the Antiguans (on the faith of a proclamation issued by the governor, pledging the country to pay the value of such slaves as might be killed or desert) sent a large complement of negroes to act as pioneers, and assist in drawing the artillery. During the next year, several prizes were taken by the Antigua privateers; and Captain O’Brien, of H. M. S. “Griffen,” assisted by Captain Taylor of the “Temple,” took three large vessels off Antigua, and brought them into English Harbour.

The year 1760 is celebrated for the introduction of methodism into Antigua, by a Mr. Gilbert, which, from a very small beginning, has overspread the whole island, and proved of infinite value to the inhabitants. In 1761, assurance was prohibited on all French vessels and merchandise; and also all vessels trading to France, or the French colonies, during the war. During this year regulations were made respecting the manumission of slaves. Antigua certainly set a bright example to the other islands, in days of slavery, of never withholding from its negroes that privilege. The following year, 1762, the necessity of having the laws of the island printed was again brought before the council and assembly, which was unanimously agreed to. The same year Antigua again supplied a complement of strong negroes, to serve as pioneers, &c., under the command of the Right Honourable the Earl of Albemarle, in an intended expedition against Martinique. The year 1765 was the last that Sir George Thomas continued in the government of the Leeward Caribbee Islands.^[50]

James Verchild, Esq., was appointed to succeed Sir George Thomas in the government in 1766; and during that year harbour-masters were appointed. Antigua still appearing deficient in white inhabitants, in 1767 further regulations were made, which would, it was hoped, tend to increase the number, and retain in the island many families who were upon the point of leaving it. The cause of these persons emigrating, it appears, was on account of their not being allowed to reckon the female members of their family, in the place of a white servant to so many slaves, as the law required, as was the case in Jamaica and St. Vincent’s; it was therefore deemed expedient this year to give way in this respect, and permit two women to count as one man.

In 1768, William Woodley, Esq., was appointed commander-in-chief of Antigua, and the other Leeward Caribbee Islands. During his administration, a dreadful fire broke out in the town of St. John’s, which did great damage, but of which a further account will be given in another part of this work. Large sums of money were granted, and a collection made for the sufferers at Liverpool. Precautions were afterwards taken, by regulating certain buildings about the capital; but unfortunately those wise regulations have long since fallen into disuse. In 1769, the snow “Rodney” put into Antigua, in distress. She had been despatched from England with convicts, who were to be employed in the State of Maryland, but meeting first with bad weather, and afterwards long calms, all their provisions were consumed; and when they fortunately made Antigua, eleven of the convicts had died from starvation, and the survivors had eaten their very shoes.

In 1771, Sir Ralph Payne, K.G., succeeded to the government. His excellency was a native of St. Kitts, and was esteemed for many qualities. The Antiguans were quite pleased with his nomination, supposing he would have the interests of these colonies greatly at heart. The first year of his administration the common gaol was rebuilt, which had been burnt down in the late fire; and a portion of land, contiguous to it, purchased for the purpose of enlarging that part appropriated for the use of the debtors. The year 1771 is celebrated as that in which the “Sugar Ants” first made their appearance in Antigua. They were supposed to have made their way from Dominica to this island; and, minute as they are, they proved a most formidable enemy, by destroying an immense quantity of sugar-canes. This year also marks the appointment of Sir George Pownall to the situation of provostmaster-general of the Leeward Islands, under letters patent, dated 7th June, in the eleventh year of the reign of his majesty George III. This grant had been made to the father of Sir George, after the death of the former patentee, Mr. Richard Phelps​—​“to be held with all fees, rights, profits, privileges, and advantages,” for the lives of Mr. Pownall, and his two sons, Sir George Pownall, and Mr. John Lillington Pownall.

In 1772, Antigua suffered very much from the effects of a hurricane; great damage was done to the shipping both in St. John’s Harbour, and also in English Harbour. The “Chatham,” commanded by Admiral Parry, the “Seahorse,” and some other vessels of his majesty’s service, were driven on shore, and several merchantmen were sunk. In 1774, Sir Ralph Payne was ordered home, much against the wish of the Antiguans; and a petition was forwarded to England praying his majesty to re-appoint him.

Craister Greathead, Esq., another West Indian, succeeded Sir Ralph Payne as commander-in-chief in 1775, but he appears to have given St. Kitts the preference, principally residing in that island. Nothing of importance occurred during his administration; happily for the Antiguans, war was principally confined to another quarter, which gave them a little time to look about them, and redress their domestic grievances.

In 1777, General William Mathew Burt was appointed to the government, and a suitable residence prepared for his reception. The following year, war, blood-stained war, unfurled his red banner in these “gems of the sea”​—​these beautiful West Indian islands. On all sides of Antigua did the battle rage; island after island surrendered either to French or English prowess; and the fears of the Antiguans were raised for the safety of their little domicile. Nor was war alone the only impending evil she had to dread; the heavens withheld their bounty, and the country fainted beneath a burning sun; famine, it was supposed, would be the result, and had it not been for the interposition of his gracious majesty George III., by advancing 20,000l. sterling to procure subsistence for the negroes, their fears would have proved too true. Yet although this kind loan to the country averted much evil, the series of calamities they had already suffered caused so much sickness, that in the course of the next year, 1780, it was the opinion of Dr. Samuel Athill that upwards of eight thousand negroes died.

In 1778, fresh regulations were made for the better government of slaves, and for establishing certain days, viz.​—​the whole time from sunset on Christmas-eve, to sunrise of the 28th of December, as their holidays. No other days were to be allowed the slaves by their owners in place of those specified; and no slave-holder could refuse to allow them such holidays, under a penalty of 100l.: one-half of the fine to go to the informer, the other half to the public treasury​—​during these holidays martial law was to be in force.

About this period Lord Rodney took command of the fleet which was stationed in these seas, and was fortunate enough to beat off the French, and thus spare the Antiguans the horrors of an invasion, which was but too successful at St. Kitts. The name of this gallant officer is still remembered with gratitude and affection by West Indians; and not many years ago, the stranger who visited Barbados was highly entertained with an old black woman, who passed by the title of “Lady Rodney,” and who wore upon her dark fat arm a picture of the Admiral, which he gave her at parting. But alas! like the noble lord, she has passed to another world, and no longer do the young midds of her majesty’s service, who visit Barbados, recognise her shrill cry of “hab best guaba fine pine, and hot ginger drink for noung buckru me lob.”

The fortifications of Goat Hill, and Great George Fort, at Barnacle Point, were completed during the administration of General Burt, as well as several other forts, which were very necessary in this season of warfare. About this period slaves were forbidden to vend sugar, rum, molasses, or sugar canes, besides many other articles.

The circumstances attending the death of Governor Burt were very extraordinary. Upon a certain day his excellency honoured a gentleman of the island with his company to dinner, and during the repast he was as gay as any at that festive board. Soon after the cloth was withdrawn, when the laughing wine sparkled in the crystal chalice, and, surrounded by all the good things of this world, the convivial party threw off all cares, they were surprised to hear the governor call to his servant to bring his sword, which he always carried abroad with him. Wondering at this command, yet too well bred to make inquiries, the company waited in silence until the order was performed. The sword was brought and handed to the governor; when, unsheathing it in an instant, he exclaimed, in a loud voice​—​“Tell that fellow to quit the back of my chair, or I will run him through!” The company were more amazed than ever. What could the governor mean? no one was behind his chair; no one was in the room but themselves and the domestics. Uncertain what to do or say, they still remained silent; when the governor repeated, in a still louder tone, “Send away that man, or I will run him through!” It was represented to his excellency that he laboured under a mistake, that no one was behind his chair; but it was of no avail, all that could be got from him was, “Send away that man, or I will run him through!” In this state he was carried home, and every art tried to restore him to his proper senses; but all was of no avail, he never recovered the shock; and in a short time after he fell a prey to that insatiable monster, Death, who so justly says—

“I visit the halls of the great and gay,
And snatch them from all their delight away;
I rest at the villager’s humble door,
For welcome alike are the rich and the poor.”

It has been said that the governor was poisoned, and that the mixture, or whatever other form it was administered in, was so prepared as to have the effects of unsettling his reason; but possibly it was a case of delirium tremens, without the assistance of any deleterious drug or herb.

This circumstance is related in a different manner; and as I am not aware which is the most correct, will lay them both before my readers, that they may judge for themselves. General Burt, it is said, was dining at a party at “Pensive Hall,” (the name of the great house upon Martin Byam’s estate, now belonging to Messrs. Shands, of Liverpool, England,) when he saw an apparition, which informed him, that ere twelve moons had waxed and waned, this mandate should be issued to him​—​“Thou shalt die and not live!” He related the circumstance to the party, and expressed his firm belief in it. His friends removed him to the Great House upon Weir’s estate, (the present seat of Francis Byam Ottly, Esq.,) and by convivial parties, strove to overcome his melancholy forebodings; but all was of no effect. He finally sailed for England, and died upon his passage, the very day twelve months he saw the apparition.

After the death of General Burt, in 1781, Major-General Sir Thomas Shirley, Bart., was appointed to the office of commander-in-chief. No events of importance marked the first year of his government, except that the gallant Admiral Vernon obtained a complete victory over the French fleet, between this island and Guadaloupe, and followed up his success by many other naval conquests. General Prescott, commander of the 69th regiment, and the Antiguan troops, landed at St. Kitt’s, and drove the enemy before them with great slaughter.

In 1782, St. John’s again suffered severely from a destructive fire, which broke out in one of the most densely-populated parts of the town. It was this disaster which gave rise to the establishment of the “Friendly Fire Company,” every member of which pledged himself to keep in good order a certain number of buckets; as also to practise themselves in the use of their engines. Soon after the formation of this society, the “Phœnix Fire Office,” in Lombard-street, London, sent out proposals for insurance​—​the first which were ever made in Antigua, and for many years, that office was the only one which would grant security upon West Indian property.

In 1784, it was resolved to make some alterations in the oaths required of white servants. Prior to this year, they were obliged to swear to their being Protestants, as well as take the oaths of allegiance; from which cause many quiet and useful persons were debarred from receiving the rewards held out to other white emigrants, on account of their not being nurtured in the Protestant religion. It was therefore enacted that no other oaths should be required but those of allegiance to the reigning monarch and his successors. A nightly watch was also established in the town of St. John’s, and a tax levied upon the inhabitants to defray the expenses of it. It was in this year, also, that it was contemplated to allow slaves a trial by jury; but it does not appear to have been carried into effect until 1798. The former method of trying these sable defaulters was to bring them before a justice of the peace, and if his worship considered the offence worthy of the highest punishment, he called to his aid a fellow-justice, and between them they condemned the culprit to death, causing such sentence to be immediately executed.

Regulations were again very judiciously made for the better erection of kitchens, blacksmiths’ shops, bakeries, &c., in order to prevent, as far as possible, the repetition of those fatal fires which had so lately devastated great part of the capital. Such buildings erected within the precincts of St. John’s were, in future, to be constructed of stone or brick, and the roofs to be cased with tiles or slates. Like many other wise purposes, these regulations have long ago fallen into disuse; and at the present day, in an old wooden shed, in the midst of a populous neighbourhood, a blacksmith drives his trade; and as you pass the open door, his huge fire may be seen vomiting forth its tongues of flame, while showers of bright sparks, struck from the glowing iron, often find a resting-place amid the surrounding heaps of combustibles. Surely such practices ought to be noticed by “the powers that be,” particularly when we have lately had such distressing proofs of the havoc made by that destructive element. In 1784 the churchwardens were empowered to sell certain portions of public lands, and to purchase other lots, for the more convenient erection of a parish hospital. Amendments were also made in the act passed in 1766, for the prevention of damage to the harbour of St. John’s, and for appointing a harbour-master, who was to be “a person bred to the sea, and otherwise sufficiently skilled and qualified to take charge of the port and harbour of St. John’s, including the cove.”

In 1786, a tax was raised upon the inhabitants of St. John’s, to defray the expenses of cleaning and repairing the streets of the capital. This must have been very requisite, if they were really in the state described in the following passage, (extracted from a letter written from Antigua August 1, 1786.) “The streets are spacious, but unpaved, nor is there the least care taken to keep them clean. The prickly pear bush, and other shrubs, are suffered to grow therein, to the annoyance of the passengers, the secreting of every species of nastiness, and to the great increase of vermin, insects, and reptiles, with which this place abounds.” Public billiard and other gaming-tables were prohibited, under pain of forfeiture; much to the good order and welfare of the island.

In 1787, our late beloved and lamented sovereign William IV. (then Prince William Henry) honoured Antigua with a visit. During the period of his stay there, he endeared himself to every heart, by that kind condescension and sympathy of manner which marked his every stage through life. As no doubt it will be interesting to my readers to have some account of the manner in which his highness passed his time, I will insert the following letter, written by John Luffman, the author of the map of Antigua, and published, among other of his epistolary productions, in 1789.

In 1788, two Jews were tried at the court of grand sessions, for a robbery committed upon one of their tribe. “Marcus” (the name of the one most culpable) was condemned to suffer death by hanging, but was afterwards pardoned; while “Vanban” (the name of the other culprit) was sentenced to stand in the pillory for a certain number of hours. This punishment, however, did not appear to make due impression upon the guilty Israelite, for a spectator of the exhibition (in a letter written to a friend) describes him as standing there with the utmost assurance, “holding, with one hand, his hat before his face, and with the other, supporting an umbrella to prevent the sun warming his head.”

In the latter end of June, 1788, Sir Thomas Shirley quitted the government, and sailed for England in the “Roehampton,” commanded by Captain Ross. His excellency, it appears, felt aggrieved at some treatment he received from the legislature, and accordingly, upon his departure, he refused the vote of civility from that body, and proceeded on board the vessel, attended only by his private secretary. Mr. Nugent assumed the command as lieutenant-governor, and soon after his arrival, a new road, leading to Five Islands Division, was made, and great care taken to drive piles in that part of the town known as the “Big Market,” in order to prevent, if possible, any further encroachment of sea, which had, within the last few months, almost destroyed the old highway.

In 1790, Sir Thomas Shirley again resumed the government of the Leeward Islands, and soon after his arrival, it was enacted by the legislature, that it should be lawful for the vestry of St. John’s to levy a tax (not exceeding 2l. per cent. on value of goods sold) upon every transient or non-resident trader who shall visit the island, which tax was to be applied to the maintenance of ministers, the poor of the parish, or any similar purposes. The following year the fortifications at Dow’s Hill were commenced, the appearance of which, at this day, proves the erector’s knowledge of rampart and bastion. Amendments were also made (1791) as regarded the keeping of rum-shops, or selling any spirituous liquors. Prior to this period, no free negro or mulatto could keep such an establishment, or sell any strong drink or wine under a heavy penalty; or if even they were concerned in such a business with a white person, it was punishable in both; but under this government the case was altered, for upon applying to the court of king’s bench, persons of their caste and colour could obtain a licence by giving security. An act was passed (containing 227 clauses) for the better regulating the island courts, and due methods effected for an improved administration of justice. It had been formerly the practice in Antigua to burn such felons as were within the benefit of clergy, in the hand, but this year the punishment was commuted to public or private whippings, inflicted once or oftener, but not more than at three different periods. This was the last decree signed by his excellency: he appears to have been an able and just governor, and well calculated for a representative of royalty. After the departure of his excellency, John Nugent, Esq., resumed the command as lieutenant-governor until the following year, when the Honourable William Woodley was re-appointed.

CHAPTER XI.

Governors: William Woodley​—​John Stanley​—​Major-General Charles Leigh​—​Archibald Esdail​—​John S. Thomas​—​Robert Thomson.

In 1792, William Woodley, Esq., was again appointed commander-in-chief; and, soon after his arrival, the increase of the importation of white servants was again taken into consideration.

Antigua had never reckoned a large population of whites; indeed, from various causes, they were continually decreasing. This could not be attributed to the want of encouragement given to settlers, but from the situation of the island itself. Although Antigua is naturally fortified by rocks and breakers, which defends it from the attacks of large vessels; yet there are so many creeks and harbours (which, with a small population, it was almost impossible to protect) that the French and Caribs found it an easy matter to land in their canoes, and destroy and plunder the country, and ill-treat the inhabitants. From these circumstances, emigrants were unwilling to settle here, but preferred going to some of the other islands, which were less liable to these incursions. To counteract these evils, and increase the number of white inhabitants, various plans, as already shewn, had been adopted by former governors,—​fines were imposed upon proprietors if they did not employ one able-bodied white man to every thirty slaves, supposing that would tend to augment the population. But as it was found that the law was still eluded, by owners paying the penalty rather than maintain so many white servants, it was agreed, this year, by the governor, council, and assembly to increase the fine to 53l. 6s. 8d. for every deficient white servant to forty slaves annually. Possibly this might have had, in some degree, the desired effect; for, in 1800, we find there were about 3000 white inhabitants to 36,000 negroes, which had not been the case for the last forty years.

In 1793, the militia was regulated, and formed into “one squadron of light dragoons, who were to serve on foot and horseback; two regiments and one independent company of foot; and one battalion of artillery.” The dragoons were to be named by the governor and council; and although not to be appointed without their own consent, when once entered, they were not at liberty to remove to another corps, unless promoted by the governor to a commission. Only one person from an estate could serve in the dragoons, which squadron was to consist of never more than one hundred and eight men​—​non-commissioned officers and privates included​—​or less than sixty. This was the first year any free negro or coloured person was allowed to serve in the militia, when they were appointed to the under services of artillery, and to act as pioneers, and made subject to the same fines as privates of foot. It appears this was also the year uniforms were appointed for the militia, which being well arranged, made a good show upon their monthly field-days. Antigua was visited this year by a malignant fever, which caused a great many deaths. It was supposed to have been brought from Grenada in H. M. S. Experiment, and conveyed ashore in some of the sailors’ bedding.

John Stanley, Esq., succeeded Mr. Woodley in the government, and arrived the latter end of the same year, (1793,) but he did not reside often in Antigua, giving St. Kitts the preference. In 1794, Antigua sent a complement of men, and some negro slaves, to assist in the reduction of Martinique and Guadaloupe; and upon the taking of those islands, the governor, council, and assembly, issued a proclamation, forbidding any free persons of colour, or negro slaves belonging to those places, from coming to, or remaining in, this island. During the next year an annuity was granted to the Honourable Edward Byam, the president of Antigua, for his many services to the island, which has been alluded to in a former chapter. A sum of money was also raised for defraying the expenses of the war, which had been very heavy for the last three years.

Major-General Charles Leigh was appointed commander-in-chief in 1795, but did not continue in the government more than twelve months. During this period, it was agreed to allow such of the poorer classes of white persons who might be wounded (while serving in the militia) so severely as to affect their after-life, 70l. annually; if killed, their widows to receive 40l. annually, during their widowhood; and their children, 20l. annually, until they attained the age of fourteen. Additional pay was also provided for the gunner and matrosses employed in the several forts, and new regulations for the better ordering of the militia, which in these seasons of danger was very necessary, for the West Indies were still in an unsettled state, and their old enemies the French were always on the look-out for opportunities of increasing their possessions in these seas. Major-General Leigh becoming disgusted with the West Indies, he determined to return to England, and accordingly embarked on board a vessel bound for that place, on the 3rd July, 1796, without permission from his majesty.

At the departure of Major-General Leigh, there happened to be none of the lieutenant-governors of the Leeward Caribbee Islands in the West Indies; and accordingly, Archibald Esdail, Esq., a counsellor of St. Christopher’s^[51] claimed the administration of the government, and acted as such until his death, which happened about three months after; but he did not visit Antigua to take upon him the administration of the government, as he ought to have done by direction of the reigning monarch. Upon his decease, the lieutenant-governors being still absent, John S. Thomas, Esq., another resident of St. Christopher’s, represented himself as first counsellor, and exercised the office of governor until April, the following year, (1797.) Nothing of any consequence occurred during his short administration, and very little can be said about him in this place, for, like his predecessor, he never honoured Antigua with his presence. The Kittefonians appeared to have had it all their own way at that period, for no sooner had Mr. Thomas breathed his last sigh, than another member of that community, Robert Thomson, Esq., followed the example set before him, represented himself as the oldest counsellor, and, consequently, entitled to the vacant government; in which office he continued until the arrival of the Right Honourable Lord Lavington, (who was formerly governor under the title of Sir Ralph Payne,) in 1801. During the three years Mr. Thomson was governor, he visited Antigua for about three days, in March, 1800, so that the Antiguans had not much of their commander-in-chief’s society; but the council and assembly appear to have gone on very well without him, and framed some very good laws.

The first year of Mr. Thomson’s government, Antigua had a visitor in the person of that indefatigable, but unfortunate traveller, Mungo Park. Mr. Park had embarked on board the “Charlestown,” an American slaver, commanded by a Captain Harris, who was bound to Antigua with his live cargo. Upon nearing the island, the vessel struck upon a rock and narrowly escaped shipwreck; it was, however, at length got off, and brought into St. John’s harbour, where part of the cargo was sold. Mr. Park remained in Antigua until the arrival of the “Chesterfield” packet, in which he took passage to England. He speaks of Antigua as the loveliest of all lovely isles.

Whilst Mr. Thomson was residing at St. Kitts as commander-in-chief, the Antiguans were busy in again raising funds to defray the expenses of the war, which had been, and still were, very great. It was also enacted, that if any free coloured, or white person, killed or wounded a slave belonging to themselves or any one else, such offenders were to be considered as murderers, and, consequently, as worthy of punishment as if their victim possessed the fairest skin. That the life of a negro was no longer to be considered “in law” as the “life of a dog,” but that he was at length to be looked upon as human.

Antigua has always been liable to droughts, and, in such season, serious losses have occurred from the slaves dying for want of good water; to remedy this evil, as far as laid in their power, a tax was imposed upon all sugar plantations and houses in the island, which did not possess one or more cisterns.

This year (1798) appears to have been the first time that slaves were really tried by jury, which was then made to consist of six reputable white inhabitants. If upon trial they were found worthy of death, the justices of the peace were to acquaint the governor, or whoever might at such time be in command of the island, with the sentence, in thirty-six hours after it was pronounced, under a penalty of 20l. The provost-marshal was also obliged to attend such trial, under a fine of 20l.; and for his trouble he was to receive 3s. for summoning each juror, and 33s. for his attendance.

In the middle of this year, a general council and assembly was held at St. Kitts; and amongst other affairs discussed, it was determined to pass certain regulations which would tend to ameliorate the condition of slaves.^[52] All owners of slaves were to furnish a certain quantity of provisions for each slave, under a penalty of 10s. per head weekly, which was to be distributed among the negroes at the discretion of the master, and old and infirm slaves were to receive their full allowance. Perhaps it may not be uninteresting to some of my readers to know what was the weekly allowance the law allowed for slaves, and consequently, will insert it:—​“Nine pints of corn or beans, or eight pints of peas, or wheat or rye flour, or Indian corn flour, or nine pints of oatmeal, or eight pints of Cassava flour or Farine, or eight pounds of biscuit, or twenty pounds of yams or potatoes, or sixteen pounds of eddoes or tanias, or thirty pounds of plaintains or bananas; and also one pound and a quarter of herrings, shads, mackarel, or other salted provision, or double the quantity of fresh fish or other fresh provisions,” all of which were to be of good quality. Owners of slaves were not allowed to pay them in money, unless there was absolute necessity for so doing, under a fine of 20l.; but when circumstances obliged them to recompense their slaves by cash, each negro was to receive the sum of 4s.^[53] weekly, and have two half days allowed them to come to market for the purpose of laying it out. The clothes allowed slaves for a year were, two jackets of woollen cloth, and two pair of trousers, made of Osnaburghs, for the men; and two woollen wrappers, and two Osnaburgh petticoats, for the women. If preferred by the slave, and agreed to by the master, a blanket and a cap were given in place of one suit of these clothes. When employed in agricultural work, half an hour was allowed for breakfast, and two hours for dinner, and they were not to be called to work before five in the morning, nor after seven in the evening, unless in crop time, or from evident necessity! If any owner of slaves cruelly whipped or imprisoned a slave without sufficient support, they were liable to imprisonment, or to be fined at the discretion of the justices before whom the case was tried; and if they deemed it necessary for the further protection of the slave, they could cause such slave to be sold at public auction. If any owner of slaves used unnecessary severities towards them, or put upon them iron collars, chains, or weights, such owner was liable to a fine not exceeding 100l. When any slave was attacked by illness, medical assistance was to be procured without loss of time; and whatever nourishment the doctor ordered, such as wine, &c., was to be given, under penalty of 50l. In cases of sudden death among the slaves, (when they had not been visited by a medical man forty-eight hours before,) notice was to be sent to the coroner or justice, when an inquest, of not less than three persons, was to be held on the body; should the owner neglect to do this, another fine of 100l. was imposed. With regard to the “marriage rites” of slaves, if their union can be called so, which was only nominal, owners were to encourage them to have only one husband or wife; and if faithful to each other, the woman was to receive four dollars for her first child, (provided it was alive six weeks after its birth,) and five dollars for each succeeding child under the same circumstances, and the slave and his wife to receive one dollar each at the end of the year. Should their master fail to do this, it was punished by a fine of 50l.; while the female who, in this state of conjugal fidelity, had borne six children, was exempt from any but light work upon her youngest child having obtained its seventh year.

Religion appears also to have been encouraged among them; for no owner or manager of negroes was to restrain them from attending a place of worship on a Sunday, under a penalty of 5l.; and if any clergyman refused to baptize a slave which was supposed to be sufficiently informed, such clergyman was to forfeit 30s. To insure further their comforts, it was ordered that no estate was to be without a commodious sick-house, furnished with proper conveniences for the use of the sick, and a sufficient number of attendants, under direction of a white person, to minister to their wants. In omitting to do this, the owner of such estate was liable to a penalty of 100l. for the first offence; and 20s. for the latter. They were also obliged to return an annual account of the births and deaths of their slaves, and how the sick were treated, under fine of 100l.

When a female slave proved enceinte of her first child, her master was to provide her a house containing two rooms, and not compel her to go to the sick-house, under penalty of 20l. During pregnancy, they were not to be employed in the general work of the estate, but lighter occupation was to be found them; and no punishment was to be inflicted but imprisonment. So anxious did they appear for the comfort and well-being of their slaves, that it was further enacted, that sufficient clothing and provisions should be provided for them, even if the estate was in debt; and the costs for such articles was to be liquidated before any other claim.

A melancholy catastrophe occurred during this year, at Antigua. Lord Camelford, then acting as commander of his majesty’s sloop “Favourite,” had a private quarrel with Lieutenant Peterson, of H. M. S. “Perdrix;” and some very unpleasant recriminations passed between the parties. Soon after this, Lord Camelford gave Lieutenant Peterson an order, which he unfortunately refused to obey, at the same time making use of some disaffected expressions; and the consequences were, that Lord Camelford shot him. His lordship was tried by a court-martial, and honourably acquitted; but he must have carried a blighted conscience with him, for—

“Alas! they had been friends in youth;
But whispering tongues can poison truth;
And constancy lives in realms above;
And life is thorny; and youth is vain:
And to be wroth with one we love,
Doth work, like madness, in the brain.”

It was this Lord Camelford, who, when travelling through Italy some years after, pointed out a spot in one of the fair valleys of Savoy, as the place where he wished to be buried; and accordingly, his remains were deposited there, amid Nature’s loveliest works. The end of Lord Camelford was untimely; he fell in a duel, by the hands of Captain Best, a native of Barbados, whose ideas of honour obliged him to challenge a professed duellist, although he was himself a complete novice in such affairs. Captain Best’s first fire, however, took effect, and Lord Camelford fell, mortally wounded. The quarrel originated with an unfortunate woman, a second Millwood in character; and Lord Camelford, who was the aggressor, confessed to his second, before the duel took place, that he knew he was in the wrong, but he would not retract words he had once uttered. It is said that Captain Best, the successful duellist, was never a happy man afterwards. He met with heavy domestic afflictions; but in his last moments he said to a friend, that all his sorrows would have appeared trivial, could he have wiped from his recollection all traces of that unfortunate duel.

In 1798 sheep-stealing was made a capital crime in Antigua. It had been considered so in England since 1740; and the Antiguans found it necessary to punish such offence as that statute directed. In 1799, an assize of bread was constituted, which was intended to prevent bakers from taking undue advantage of the public. Many other regulations were agreed to, upon this head, such as not allowing any one to sell bread without licence; obliging bakers to put a mark upon their bread, and if changing such mark without further licence, to forfeit 50l. If such bread was imperfectly baked, to be fined as if deficient in weight; if damaged flour was used, the bread to be destroyed by a magistrate, and a fine imposed upon the baker of 20l.; and if a diseased person was employed in the bakehouse, another 20l. penalty was enjoined.

In 1800, a law was passed to ascertain the number of negro slaves in Antigua; and the total number of births and deaths upon an average, for the last three years; when, upon taking the census, the number of negroes was found to be 37,000. About this year the legislature thought proper to increase the salary of the colonial agent to 200l. sterling, considering that the sum appointed for his recompence in 1698, namely 100l. sterling, was an insufficient compensation for the trouble. The agent at this period was the late Anthony Brown, Esq. Several serious accidents having occurred during the last few years from the custom of throwing about squibs, or other fireworks, it was determined that should any one in future, let their sex or quality be what it might, offend in this respect, such offender should be fined 40s. If any slave made or sold fireworks, they were to suffer such correction as the magistrate before whom the complaint was brought should deem proper.

Thus ended Mr. Thomson’s public career, after having held the government for nearly four years. As before remarked of Mr. Thomas, very little can be said about him; for he made St. Kitts head-quarters, in opposition to the orders which had been sent out by his majesty, to constitute Antigua the residence of the commander-in-chief; and did not repair to this island to take upon him the administration of the government.

CHAPTER XII.

Governors: The Right Honourable Ralph Lord Lavington​—​William Woodley​—​James Tyson​—​John Julius​—​Hugh Elliot​—​Sir James Leith​—​Henry Rawlins​—​S. Rawlins​—​Major-General Ramsay.

In 1801, the Right Honourable Ralph Lord Lavington was re-appointed to the office of commander-in-chief, to the gratification of the Antiguans, who, as before remarked, were so pleased with his government in 1771, when he was Sir Ralph Payne. Lord Lavington came to Antigua about the latter end of January; and soon after his arrival, it was agreed for the country to allow him an annuity of 1000l. to be paid quarterly out of the public treasury of the island; and a further sum of 300l. to be paid in like manner until a government house was built for his reception. And that his excellency might better support his dignity, another annuity of 700l. was granted him, as long as he remained within his government. About this time the practice of slaves stealing sugar and retailing it in the markets, or selling it to shopkeepers privately, was so general, that it was found necessary to lay a duty upon that article when retailed. If any person sold less than 100lbs. of sugar without having a licence for six months, and the further entering into a bond with one security for the sum of 50l., such person was liable to a penalty of 50l. for the first offence.

It was this year that slaves were condemned to work in the streets, for the first time, as a punishment for offences. If any slave was committed to jail for refusing to give their owner’s name, they were put to such work until claimed; when convicted of a crime less than felony, they were to be kept to hard labour in the streets for the space of three months; and if they had been sentenced to death, and afterwards pardoned by the governor, his excellency could annex to such pardon an order for the guilty slaves to work in the streets for any time he thought proper. These culprits were made to work in a gang, chained two and two together, and, at the close of the day, when their toil was over, they were conveyed to the common jail, and closely confined until the next morning, when their labours were resumed. When a slave was pardoned on condition of working in the street-gang for a certain time, their owners were paid a shilling a-day until the release of their slave.

Doubts having arisen with regard to the validity of certain laws passed during the administration of A. Esdail, J. S. Thomas, and R. Thomson, on account of their not repairing to Antigua to take upon them the administration of the government, it was found necessary to obviate all doubts by framing another law, to confirm them, as also all civil and military commissions which had been granted during their government.

The treaty of peace which had been signed between France and England in 1801 was not of long continuance. During the latter end of 1802, the French government began to act in a very menacing manner towards England; and from the military and naval preparations which were being carried on by Bonaparte, it was evident that war was intended. On the 13th of May, 1803, affairs were brought to a crisis, by Lord Whitworth, the ambassador at the French court, quitting Paris, by order of his sovereign; and immediately after, the French ambassador left England, and war was declared between the two powers. Notice to this effect was directly forwarded to Lord Lavington, by Lord Hobart, (late governor of Madras,) who at that period was one of the principal secretaries of state; and upon the arrival of the despatches, Antigua was put into a state of defence. Not wishing to declare martial law in force through the whole island, yet at the same time seeing the necessity of part of the militia being on service, it was thought proper to ordain, that in future it would be lawful for the governor, with the concurrence of the council and assembly, to call out a portion of it for the purpose of keeping guard, &c., and, by proclamation, requiring the whole body to hold themselves in readiness. It was also deemed necessary to revive an act, (which had expired upon the treaty of peace being signed at Amiens, March 25th, 1802, between England, France, Spain, and Holland,) laying a powder-tax upon all vessels trading to and from Antigua. Accordingly, all commanders of ships were obliged to pay into the hands of the receiver appointed one full pound of powder per ton, to the size of the vessel; half in cannon, and the other half in pistol powder.

In 1804, Mr. Wilberforce’s annual motion for the abolition of the slave trade, which was supported by Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox, was carried by 124 to 46 voices; and a bill presented, limiting the period when ships would be allowed to clear out from any English port for this inhuman traffic, to October 1st of the same year. This bill passed the third reading in the house of commons, but was rejected in the house of lords on account of the lateness of the session. In Antigua the negro population had decreased 1000 since the last year.

In the early part of the following year, a French squadron, consisting of six sail of the line, and two frigates, contrived to elude the vigilance of Lord Nelson’s blockading squadron; and leaving Rochefort (France), where they had been hemmed in for the last two years, proceeded to the West Indies. After having made a descent upon Dominica, and levied a heavy contribution upon the inhabitants, obliging the town of Roseau to surrender upon certain terms, the squadron proceeded for Antigua. Great were the fears of the inhabitants when this intelligence reached them; the court of king’s bench and grand sessions were prevented from sitting their usual days on account of the alarm; the militia were called out, and the whole island put into a posture of defence. The French squadron, however, passed Antigua, and landed upon Nevis, and after laying the inhabitants under contribution, proceeded to St. Kitts, and lightened a little the pockets of the Kittifonians. The alarm had scarcely subsided, when news of the arrival of the Toulon fleet, under Admiral Villeneuve, in these seas, was received. Again Antigua prepared for war; but the ferment did not last long; Lord Nelson quickly followed the enemy; and upon his arrival at Barbados on the 4th of June, heard that Admiral Villeneuve had only reached Martinique. The name of this gallant officer so intimidated the French admiral, that he immediately quitted the West Indies, and was followed by Lord Nelson, who was in hopes of overtaking him, and chastising the French for their audacity.

The departure of these squadrons gave the Antiguans a little rest, and enabled them to settle their island business. As peace was not likely to ensue at present, and knowing how liable they were to alarms like the foregoing, the governor, council, and assembly ordained, that in future whenever the court of king’s bench and grand sessions were prevented from sitting on account of the fear of an invasion, it would be lawful for any three or more justices, provided three out of the number should be of the quorum, to meet at the court-house, and by proclamation, adjourn the sessions to a period not less than ten, or longer than fourteen days. An act also passed about this time, containing sixty-eight clauses, respecting the better regulating the militia in these times of danger.

By order of his gracious majesty George III., Lord Lavington invested Sir Samuel Hood with the order of the Bath, as some reward for his gallant achievements in these seas. Upon this occasion his excellency Lord Lavington made a very powerful speech, which has been justly praised, but which is too long for insertion here. Antigua was visited (1805) by the very clever author of “The Chronological History of the West Indies,” Capt. Southey. This gentleman mentions seeing a female slave, with an iron rivetted round her ankle, which had two bars, sharp at each point, crossing each other, and projecting about a foot in four directions. Her owner informed Capt. Southey it was to keep her at home, which was impossible to do without it. This historian alludes to the melioration act, which passed in 1798, prohibiting such punishments except, (and, as Mr. Southey justly remarks, the exception neutralizes the prohibition) such as are absolutely necessary.

On the 13th of November, died Mr. John Baxter, the head of the methodists in Antigua. Mr. Baxter, who was by trade a shipwright, had been sent out from Chatham dock-yard to English Harbour in 1778, and upon his arrival exerted himself in gathering together the little society of methodists which Mr. Gilbert had established, but which since his death had been scattered about for want of a pastor. A further notice of Mr. Baxter and his praiseworthy exertions will be found in another part of the work.

In 1806, the abolition of the slave trade was again brought before the English parliament, and considerable progress was made towards its accomplishment. A bill was also passed prohibiting the exportation of slaves from the British colonies after the first of January in the succeeding year. On the 22nd of January, 1807, the total abolition of the slave trade was accomplished, and the bill ordained that no slaves should be landed in any of the British colonies after the 1st of March, 1808.

Thus this great work was ended, which had been annually discussed since 1787; and Mr. Wilberforce reaped the reward of his labours. For two hundred and forty-four years had England allowed this blood-stained traffic, and shut her ears to the cries of the distressed Africans; but a more glorious era had dawned—liberty was exerting her power, and paving the way to the future freedom of that despised race.

About the middle of the year died the Right Honourable Ralph Lord Lavington, Baron of Lavington, one of his majesty’s most honourable privy council, knight companion of the most honourable order of the Bath, captain-general and commander-in-chief of his majesty’s Leeward Caribbee Islands. His lordship, it is said, was a very hospitable man, and very fond of splendour; his Christmas balls and routs were upon the highest scale of magnificence; but he was a great stickler for etiquette, and a firm upholder of difference of rank and colour. It is asserted, that he would not upon any occasion, receive a letter or parcel from the fingers of a black or coloured man, and in order to guard against such horrible defilement, he had a golden instrument wrought something like a pair of sugar tongs, with which he was accustomed to hold the presented article. In his household he was also very particular. He had, of course, an immense number of attendants, but he would not allow any of the black servants to wear shoes or stockings, and consequently his ebon footmen used to stand behind his carriage as it rolled along, with their naked legs shining like pillars of jet, from the butter with which, in accordance to his excellency’s orders, they daily rubbed them. Lord Lavington entered upon his government the latter end of January, 1801, and resided at Antigua, with the exception of a short visit to Monserrat, until the day of his death. He died regretted by the “magnates of the land:” his tomb may still be seen at an estate called Carlisle’s,^[54] but the garden in which it stands is overgrown with weeds, and the surrounding walls are falling to ruins. Were I the possessor of Carlisle’s, this should not be the case. If only in respect to the old and noble family of the Paynes, Lord Ralph’s last resting-place should not be thus dishonoured; a few flowers should shed their sweets around; a few trees should shade that old grey tomb. There is a very handsome monument erected to his memory in the church of St. John’s, which will be further mentioned in the description of that edifice. Lord Lavington’s family, on his father’s side, had long been resident in St. Christopher’s, where they were of great eminence and distinction, having filled some of the highest offices in that island. They originally came from Lavington, in the county of Wilts, from whence the title, and are said to have been of great antiquity, tracing their descent from Ralph de Payne, a follower of William the Conqueror, who took his name it is said from Payne in Normandy. His lordship’s intimate connexion with Antigua is derived from his mother, Alice Carlisle, of a family originally from the neighbourhood of Bridgewater, in Somersetshire, and whose lineage will be found in the Appendix, where it is given from the same source I have derived other genealogical information.

After the decease of Lord Lavington, William Woodley, Esq., again resumed the reins of government; but he did not repair to Antigua, being in a delicate state of health. Sir Alexander Cochrane, with a squadron under his command, visited the island during this year on his return from taking the Danish West India colonies of St. Thomas, St. John, and St. Croix.

In the month of March, 1809, Wm. Woodley, Esq., the then acting commander-in-chief, departed this life; and James Tyson, Esq., represented himself as the first counsellor, and accordingly took upon himself the administration of the government, without repairing first to Antigua, as he ought to have done.

In 1809, it was found necessary to award certain punishments to dealers in witchcraft. Obeah,^[55] as it was termed, raged to a great extent among the negro population in these islands, and led many of them into the deepest crimes. To strike a blow at this infatuation, it was ordained, that if any negro pretended they had communication with any evil spirit by whose aid they could cause death, &c., such slave upon conviction was to suffer capital punishment; and if any slave prepared a mixture which was intended to cause death, although the poison did not take effect, such slave and their accessories were also liable to the same punishment.

In the latter part of 1809, John Julius, Esq., another resident of St. Kitts, elected himself to the office of commander-in-chief, but neither did he repair to Antigua to take upon him the administration.

About this period, the Antiguans, out of respect to their late respected governor Lord Lavington, agreed to allow his widow, Lady Frances Lavington, an annuity of 300l. sterling during her life, which was to be paid out of the treasury.

The following year, 1810, Hugh Elliot, Esq., was appointed to the government of Antigua and the rest of the Leeward Islands. During his administration, it was again ordained, that no medical man should practice in this island without a licence; and no licence should be granted unless such persons as applied produced a certificate from the Surgeons’ Hall, or from one of the universities in Great Britain, shewing his admittance in them. One reason for this regulation was, on account of the numerous cases of poisoning among the negroes; and it was conjectured that they procured deleterious drugs from some of the low venders of medicines, who, like Shakspeare’s half-starved apothecary—

“If a man did need a poison
——— would sell it him.”^[56]

This wise regulation appears to have emanated from the governor, who saw the absurdity, if not guilt, of allowing the public to place their lives in the hands of the low “self-educated physicians,” of whom, in those days, the medical body was pretty generally composed.

Nor was this the only salutary step proposed by his excellency during his administration. Although, as before mentioned, the general assembly of the Leeward Islands had, during a meeting at St. Kitts, in 1798, passed the “Melioration Act,” with the hopes of restricting the owners of slaves from excessive cruelty in their dealings with their negroes. No limits had been put to the number of lashes to be given at one time, and for one offence, and accordingly some maliciously disposed persons had evaded the law, and treated their slaves in a most barbarous manner. The governor had full proof of this soon after his arrival, in the case of a member of the council, at Nevis, who, setting aside the laws of humanity, had caused “300 lashes of cart-whip, or nearly that number, to be inflicted in the public market-place (without the sentence of a magistrate) upon a considerable proportion of a gang of thirty-two negroes, who were all, more or less, severely punished, without having been convicted of any act, which, by the most forced construction, could be deemed mutinous, or dangerous to the community at large.”

In the governor’s communications with the Earl of Liverpool, in 1810, upon this subject, he alludes to the “Melioration Act,” and deplores that the punishment of whipping was not restricted to 39 lashes, as in the 14th clause of the “Consolidated Act,” passed in Jamaica, in 1792; and further proposes, that the clause in question should be immediately annexed to the “Leeward Island Melioration Act.”

That such was not done upon the passing of the act, cannot be laid to the charge of the representatives of Antigua, who fully coincided with Mr. Burke, the attorney-general of the Leeward Islands, in his proposal that such measure should be adopted, but which proposition was not carried into effect by the general council and assembly.

In 1812, this suggestion of his excellency’s, limiting the number of lashes to be given in the chastisement of a slave, was fully carried into effect. The Antiguans had had another example brought before them, where a Tortolian slave-master had murdered several of his negroes, in a most shocking manner, and cruelly ill-treated others; and the Antiguans appear to have been wishful of exterminating that plague-spot cruelty from their little island! For this reason, they forbad owners, jailors, or any other person who had the superintendence of such inflictions, to give their slaves more than 39 lashes at one time, and for one offence; nor were they to repeat the punishment within 14 days, under a penalty of 100l. No slave was to receive more than six lashes at one time, for one offence, unless the owner’s attorney, manager, or overseer, should be present It is strange, very strange, that so many dreadful deeds should have been practised in Antigua, and still so many laws been framed for the protection of the slaves, even long before the period I am now writing about. What answer are we to give to this enigma? Alas! alas! in many instances, we must again exclaim with Captain Southey, “The exceptions neutralize the prohibitions.”

In 1813, his excellency Hugh Elliot left the government, and John Julius again entered upon the administration, but he did not reside at or visit Antigua. This was the first year a police force was established; it consisted of five reputable white men, who had been recommended to the commander-in-chief, (or in his absence, the president of the island,) assisted by about as many discreet black or coloured persons. One of these white men was to be called “Clerk of the Police,” and it was his duty to attend the sittings of magistrates on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and summon accused parties and witnesses. These police-officers had several duties to perform​—​such as taking up slaves who were found selling any article in the streets, on the working days, unless they could produce a pass from their owners; to forbid them selling fresh butter or milk, unless in possession of like certificate; and to turn out of the town, upon the ringing of the church bell at half-past nine at night, all country negroes, and oblige such as resided in the capital to retire to their houses.

In the middle of June, 1814, Sir James Leith arrived in Antigua, to fulfil the office of captain-general and governor-in-chief over the Leeward Caribbee Islands, but he did not remain here much longer than a year, for, having suffered from indisposition, he obtained leave of absence, and embarked for England, where he shortly afterwards died. Nothing of much importance occurred during the period Sir James resided in the government. Admiral Cochrane was still stationed in these seas, and kept so strict a watch upon the enemy, that they were unable to distress this or the other islands.

After the departure of Sir James Leith, another resident of St. Kitts, Henry Rawlins, Esq., acted as commander-in-chief. During his administration, an act was passed, founded upon that celebrated one of Lord Ellenborough’s against cutting and maiming, punishing with death those who discharged fire-arms with intent to injure any one, setting fire to cane pieces or buildings, or perpetrating any other malicious deed.

In the year 1814 was signed the treaty of peace between France and England, and once more Antigua was freed from her alarms and watchings. Henry Rawlins dying, Stedmans Rawlins exercised the government in 1816. Neither of these gentlemen, however, resided in this island. The yellow fever again made its appearance, and carried off a great many persons, particularly among the soldiers.

In 1816, the general government of the Leeward Caribbee Islands was discontinued, and the Prince Regent, during the unfortunate indisposition of his father, appointed Major-General George W. Ramsay, governor-in-chief of Antigua, Monserrat, and Barbuda, who arrived in Antigua in the middle of the year. Soon after General Ramsay’s arrival, it was agreed by the council and assembly to allow his excellency 5000l. currency per annum, which was to be paid quarterly, from taxes and fines for the deficiency of white servants, or duties on retailers of rum; and should these be insufficient, from other moneys in the public treasury. It was also enacted, that in the event of the death or absence of the commander-in-chief, the treasurer should pay to such person, to whom the government devolved, the sum of 3000l. currency per annum, as long as he remained in command, the better for him to support his dignity.

About this period, it was currently reported in the mother country, that the West Indian proprietors were in the habit of holding free black and coloured persons in slavery; and that, from the facilities afforded them by a state of peace, they also evaded the slave trade abolition laws, by smuggling negroes into these islands. To confute these reports, the Antiguans thought it best to introduce a registry of slaves, to be filled up at certain periods, with the name, sex, colour, and age of every slave, and how they were become possessed of. This registry was to be sworn to before a justice of the peace, by the proprietor or his representative; and if any person omitted making such return of their slaves, they were liable to a penalty of 200l. for every slave.

During the temporary absence of his excellency Major-General Ramsay, T. Norbury Kerby, Esq., the treasurer of the island, held the government. It was thought proper, about this period, (1817,) to restrict the existing privilege of exporting slaves, and make it punishable to sell or send a slave off the island. If any slaves were thus exported, they became forfeited to the king, as well as the vessel which was to convey them away, and any officers of H.M. Customs could seize such ship and slaves. This did not, however, prevent any owner from carrying their domestic slaves off the island with them, or from hiring or employing their slaves as mariners; but they were to have their name and description indorsed on the clearance of the vessel which carried them away, under penalty of 100l., to both owner of slave and the master of the vessel.

In concluding this chapter, I must be allowed to remark, that, let Antigua be what she may, since she has seen her error, she has never withheld manumission from her slaves; and, as we have just noticed, was the first among the West Indian Islands which endeavoured to spare that class the further pang of transportation.

CHAPTER XIII.

Governors: Sir Benjamin D’Urban​—​Sir Patrick Ross​—​Sir Evan Murray McGregor​—​Mr. Light​—​Sir W. G. MacBean Colebrooke​—​Major McPhail​—​Sir Charles Augustus Fitzroy.

After the death of Major General Ramsay in 1819, his gracious majesty George III. appointed Sir Benjamin D’Urban to the vacant government, who arrived at Antigua in the following year, 1820.

During the administration of Sir Benjamin D’Urban, the census was taken, when the population was found to consist of 37,031 souls​—​viz., 4066 coloured, 1980 whites, and 30,985 negroes.

A very efficient militia was also raised, consisting of 15 staff-officers, 87 commissioned-officers, and 843 noncommissioned-officers and privates; making in all, 945.

The year 1825 is celebrated for the arrival of the first English bishop in the West Indies. During the preceding year, George the Fourth appointed, by letters patent, (bearing date 24th July, 1824,) two bishops for the cure of souls in the British West Indies; the one to be styled the Bishop of Jamaica, &c., the other, the Bishop of Barbados and the Leeward Islands, having in his diocese the islands of Barbados, St. Vincent’s, St. Lucia, Grenada, Dominica, Antigua, Monserrat, Nevis, St. Christopher’s, and the Virgin Isles​—​Trinidad and Tobago, with their respective dependances.

Upon the arrival of Bishop Coleridge in the West Indies, he remained for a short time at Barbados (as head-quarters), and then proceeded upon a tour to the respective islands which constituted his see. Prior to the appointment of a bishop in these colonies, the clergy officiating there were considered under the superintendence of the bishop of London; and that prelate, as well as the archbishops of Canterbury and York, could ordain “any person who should, on examination, be deemed qualified for the cure of souls, or officiating in any spiritual capacity in his majesty’s colonies, or foreign possessions, although such persons might not have possessed the title required by the canons of the church of England, of such as are to be made ministers.

Alas! how many were ordained, and deemed qualified for the “cure of souls,” in the West Indies, who, by precept and practice, led their unhappy parishioners further into the power of the enemy of souls! who, whatever they might preach, lived in open violation of the laws of God and man; and who, after indulging in the grossest sensuality throughout the six days of the week, presumed to enter into the pulpit on a Sunday, and, pro tempore, descant most learnedly and profoundly upon the beauties of morality! But enough of such disgracers of the sacred office​—​they have passed away to render an account of their stewardship before a holy and a righteous bar; nor should I have alluded to them, did I not wish to impress upon the minds of the Antiguans the blessing they enjoy in possessing a more enlightened and evangelical race of clergymen.

To return to the bishop: a sum of 4200l. sterling per annum is placed at his disposal, to be distributed among the several ministers, catechists, and schoolmasters, as salaries, &c., with the proviso, that no minister shall receive more than 300l. sterling per annum, from such fund.

By his patent the bishop ordains, confirms, and performs all those several functions peculiar to his office, as one of the successors of the apostles. The bishop is made a body corporate; has a common seal granted him, and is considered subordinate to the archbishop of Canterbury. An ecclesiastical jurisdiction over the clergy is also conferred upon him, and on the commissaries by him appointed; but such jurisdiction does not interfere with the provision of any local law which has received the royal confirmation. “In case of the absence of the bishop and his commissaries, the governor of Barbados is authorized to appoint any two clergymen to institute benefices, and to license curates.”

Sir Benj. D’Urban being recalled, Sir Patrick Ross was appointed governor and commander-in-chief. His excellency arrived at Antigua in the year 1826, and during his stay there, ingratiated himself with the heads of the island, by his courteous manners, and his humane desire to spare their feelings upon the all-engrossing topic of approaching emancipation.

The year 1828 will be remembered by many Antiguans, as that in which the “Dandy Fever” prevailed. This most distressing and painful illness took its name from the strange gestures into which its excruciating agonies threw the unfortunate sufferers, and who, in their awkward attempts at walking, were likened by some facetious spirit to that nondescript race of men​—​the dandies!

The year 1831 was the scene of an insurrection among the negroes. The cause of this disaffection among the black population was, the suppression of the Sunday markets, and the omission, on the part of the authorities of the island, to provide a day instead of the Sabbath, in which the negroes might bring the produce of their gardens and poultry yards into the capital to sell.

The Sunday markets were indeed a nuisance most properly got rid of, for they engendered all kinds of dissipation among the lower classes on the Lord’s day; yet is it to be wondered at that the negroes felt aggrieved in having the only day they could call their own taken from them, as it were, and no other portion of the week allotted to them?

From muttered threats, and sullen looks of discontent, the negroes proceeded to acts of open violence. Incendiarism raged to a great extent; no sooner was one fire extinguished, than another was discovered in an opposite quarter. Martial law was in force; and the officers of the militia had then ample opportunities of shewing forth their valour, and winning laurels in the field of Mars.

Great were the marchings and counter-marchings upon this occasion; mysterious the signs and counter-signs! Then there was such buckling on of spurs, and bracing on of swords​—​such displays of epaulets and aiguillettes, as would have surprised any one not accustomed to West Indian militia “turn outs.” Generals galloped here, and colonels there; at one moment a party of gallant dragoons, armed to the teeth, and mounted​—​some on gaunt steeds of sixteen hands high, and others on diminutive ponies, dashed along the streets; at another, the governor and his brilliant staff might be seen hurrying forward as fresh intelligence arrived of other fires breaking out.

At length something like order was restored. Many of the negroes were apprehended; and the supposed ringleader, after being brought to trial, was condemned and executed. He met his fate with resignation, but protested to the very last that he died innocent of the offence (arson) imputed to him; the other culprits were punished by public floggings and imprisonments. Thus was the insurrection of 1831 quelled, and peace once more established. Saturday was appointed for the principal market day; and the planters agreed to allow their people to visit the capital every, or every other week, to vend their little wares.

In 1832, Sir Evan Murray McGregor was appointed to the government of the Leeward Islands, including Dominica. Sir Evan was a member of the McGregor family, so celebrated in Scottish history, and of which the redoubted Rob Roy was a chieftain. His excellency was a man of the strictest political principles, and of a most enlightened mind. He saw and felt the degradations laid upon the coloured people; and as far as lay in his power he mitigated their sufferings. It was not until his administration that coloured persons served as jurors.

His kind feelings towards this portion of his majesty’s subjects were not altogether agreeable to many of the self-constituted “exclusives;” and various were the schemes and projects to turn him from his purpose of rewarding the merits of the coloured class. But Sir Evan possessed an inflexible spirit, and neither frowns nor caresses could prevent him from dispensing justice to all, be their colour what it might.

Acting upon these principles, his excellency, in 1834, appointed Mr. Loving, a gentleman of colour, chief of police, with a salary of 600l. per annum. This dreadful innovation of the governor’s met with the strongest resistance from those persons who were led to look upon a man’s merit as inseparably connected with his white descent; and no efforts were spared upon their part to endeavour to persuade Sir Evan to rescind the appointment. This, however, was not to be effected, and many a breast burned with secret indignation against the man who had dared to throw down the partition wall between the immaculate whites, and a descendant of Afric’s despised children!

But it was not colour alone that formed the grand objection to this gentleman’s appointment. Mr. Loving had been for some time the editor of a paper, and in such capacity had raised his voice against the system of slavery, and advocated in a firm, but mild spirit, the cause of emancipation, in a country where nearly all its principal inhabitants were slave-holders. Upon the strength of the old adage, “What can’t be cured must be endured,” Mr. Loving was allowed to remain quietly in his situation, until time brought about mighty changes, and made the Antiguan slave-holders, like himself, friends to freedom.

The following year, 1833, was noted for the severe shocks of earthquake felt at Antigua, as well as at most of the other islands throughout the chain. These earthquakes were followed by a season of dry weather, which crushed the hopes of the planters, and rendered in great measure the fertile little island a barren waste.

1834 is celebrated throughout the British West Indies as the year of the abolition of slavery, and more particularly by the Antiguans, who, laying aside all claims to apprenticeship, gave their negroes immediate freedom. For this consummation had many worthy men toiled and sighed​—​for this had Sharpe, Clayton, Wilberforce, Buxton, Lushington, and many others, written and spoken, until wearied nature had often sunk, almost exhausted​—​and now the bright day of liberty had arrived, and the great and glorious triumph, which for so many years had been as a beacon before the minds of philanthropic men, had been achieved; but alas! of those who would have sung jubilee on the fulfilment of their wishes, many had yielded up their noble spirits, and passed to the silent tomb.

The year following emancipation (1835) was the scene of a violent hurricane, which raging with extreme fury throughout the greater part of the night, caused great loss to many of the inhabitants. Soon after the hurricane, the yellow fever broke out with great malignancy, and hurried many a young and gifted one from the family circle.

During the period Sir Evan McGregor administered the government, he endeavoured to restore the custom of holding a general council and assembly, to convene at certain times, at one of the several islands within his jurisdiction; and also to make the island of Dominica head-quarters. His excellency’s view and wishes upon this subject were, however, overruled by the home government; although it was permitted him to make Dominica his place of residence should such be his desire. Soon after his removal to the latter colony, he received the higher appointment of Governor of Barbados, to which seat of government he repaired, leaving Antigua to a kind of interregnum, which was filled up by the president of the island.

During his excellency’s administration, he also recommended the legislature to enact a law to govern elections​—​a deficiency in the laws of Antigua complained of by a large portion of the inhabitants; the qualifications of voters being entirely governed by resolutions of the house, as best suited the purposes of its members. In contested elections, freeholders, it is said, were frequently left to unconstitutional resolutions of the assembly, who, paying no attention to former precedents, adopted such measures as would best secure the interests of their own party.^[57] There are, however, laws for the protective privileges of freeholders for other distinctive purposes, such as exemptions from arrest, &c.

In 1836, Henry Light, Esq., arrived at Antigua to play his part upon the stage of colonial life as lieutenant-governor. His lofty pretensions to liberal principles, and his condescending greatness to the mixed blood in admitting a few members of that class to “his table,” evinces much insincerity, for in his private despatches to Lord Glenelg, he reprobates, with but one or two exceptions, that body of persons, in terms as ill-founded as they are illiberal. Nothing of importance occurred during Mr. Light’s sojourn at Antigua; he has subsequently been appointed to the government of British Guiana, where he has had an opportunity of shewing forth his philanthropy, as well as of acquiring fame.

The year 1837 marked the appointment of Sir William MacBean George Colebrooke to the office of governor-in-chief of the Leeward Islands. Of the same liberal principles as Sir Evan McGregor​—​firm, dignified, and polished​—​of courteous demeanour and pleasing address, Sir William was formed to command respect, and conciliate the affections of all classes. In his official proceedings, he was ever actuated by prudence; and with the welfare of the colonies, over which he presided, at heart, he pursued his way in that open, straightforward manner, which, to an honourable mind, is of such inestimable value.

In the first year of Sir William Colebrooke’s administration, a bank was established in Antigua by royal charter; thus rendering obsolete an act which had been passed in the early part of the reign of George III., for preventing the circulation of paper bills of credit in the colonies. Prior to this period, no governor could assent to such circulation, under forfeiture of 1000l., the being dismissed his government, and declared incapable of holding any other public office or place of trust.

In the following year, his excellency deemed it proper to abolish the militia; a measure which saved the treasury of the island a considerable sum annually; and accordingly, on the 1st of July, 1838, that body ceased to exist, and an end was put to all martial glory and deeds of arms among the store-keeper captains and planter colonels of Antigua. It was not until some time after the revocation of the militia, that the legislature remembered to call in the arms from the privates; and accordingly, when such orders were issued, great defalcation was discovered; the few, however, collected, were consigned to a far different purpose from what they were originally intended​—​being formed into a fence before the arsenal, where they remain, with their bayonets pointing to the skies, as mementos of the warlike acts of the island.

Sir William Colebrooke entertained similar opinions as Sir Evan McGregor, upon the expediency of there being one general council and assembly among the islands under his jurisdiction; and consequently, strenuous exertions were made by him, to carry his plans into effect. The acquiescence of the home government to this measure was so relied upon by his excellency, that before accounts could be received from England, despatches were forwarded to the other Leeward Islands, calling upon the members of their respective legislatures to visit Antigua, in order to hold the first general council and assembly. The legislators of St. Christopher’s were the first to obey the summons, and some of that body were actually in the boat about to convey them on board the vessel in which they had taken passage for Antigua, when the packet with the European mails was observed in the offing. Anxious to receive their letters before their departure for another colony, they determined to wait until the post-master distributed them​—​a resolution which saved them a fruitless voyage; for, from despatches from Sir William Colebrooke, they learned that the English parliament had refused to acknowledge any general assembly.

In 1840, Sir W. Colebrooke returned to England; and Major McPhail, the lieutenant-governor of Dominica, was called to administer the government for the time being. His excellency was also a man of liberal principles​—​one who was inflexible in performing his official duties without partiality, and earnestly desirous of promoting the public good, and effecting a kind feeling among all classes. As a private character, his courteous and pleasing demeanour endeared him to all who held communion with him; and when he quitted the government, he carried with him the best regards and earnest wishes of every member of the Antiguan community. Nothing of particular moment occurred during his administration, with the exception of the dreadful fire in 1841, (further noticed in these pages,) and the strictness with which the police laws (respecting the capture of animals found strolling in the public streets) has been carried into force. Great has been “the hue and cry” among the swinish multitude; and day after day has the intelligence arrived that another unfortunate pig has been imprisoned within the walls of the pound, without any regard to the feelings of the said quadruped, or its family. Even Sunday​—​that day of rest​—​was no rest to them, or the parties whose duty it was to capture them; and so far was the disturbance carried, which such exploits caused, that some good people took the trouble to write and disseminate papers, calling upon policemen, magistrates, &c., to observe to keep holy the Sabbath, and not allow pigs to be hunted before the very doors of the churches and chapels, even when service was being performed.

Sir Charles Augustus Fitzroy, who has succeeded as governor-general of the Leeward Islands, is a branch of a high and noble English family. The accounts which have preceded him of his many virtues, bids fair for Antigua enjoying, in the person of her majesty’s representative, a good and liberal governor​—​one who will dispense justice without regard to caste or complexional prejudice​—​rewarding merit wherever it may be found​—​measures which, it is said, have been overlooked by many of his predecessors until within these last few years.

Sir C. A. Fitzroy is lineally descended, in the female line, from Brigadier-General Crosby, (who had been appointed to the command of the Leeward Island government, in 1730,) as will be seen on a reference to his genealogy, in the Appendix.

CHAPTER XIV.

My first voyage to Antigua​—​Visit upon deck​—​The booby’s welcome​—​Nearer approach​—​Harbour of St. John’s​—​The Black Pilot​—​North Sandy Island​—​Wreck of the mail-boat​—​Dangerous navigation​—​Long Island​—​South Sandy Island​—​Panoramic views from the vessel’s deck​—​Light winds​—​Disappointment made pleasing​—​Anchorage for the night

Having noticed the most important of its historical events, I must now be allowed to give some description of the appearance of Antigua, and of my first visit to its shores. After a voyage of many weeks, early one morning we were agreeably saluted with the cry of “land!” Sleep was immediately banished from my eyes, and with a beating heart I waited until the day should “pour in apace,” and allow me the pleasure of viewing for the first time one of those tropical islands I had often thought of with delight. A fair wind filled our sails, and we rapidly gained upon the distant object, which (when I first peeped up the companion ladder) looked like one of those shadowy clouds I had so frequently seen resting, as it were, upon the bosom of the ocean, at the utmost verge of the horizon.

By this time the sun was fast mounting up the sky, and shone with all its fervour upon the glassy waves below; and as we noiselessly glided on, the mountains began to assume a distincter form, and proved beyond doubt that we were near the end of our voyage.

A bustle upon the deck, the trampling of many feet, the rattling of ropes, and the sound of strange voices, and a stranger dialect, announced the arrival of the pilot; and unable any longer to suppress the longing desire I had to behold Antigua from a more eligible situation than my peep-hole, I hastily tied on my bonnet, and spite of the increasing heat, sought my companion upon the deck. Seated upon a hen-coop, which had been arrayed in all the glories of bright green paint, I prepared to look about me; when suddenly I felt a peculiar sensation, which told me, that, like “Achilles,” I was anything but invulnerable in my heel. A “booby,” or gannet, an aquatic bird, which had been captured the night before, and placed in “durance vile” within the self-same coop, was bidding me welcome to her native clime, by unceremoniously inserting her bill into that very susceptible part; and as I was not stoic enough to receive such favours unmoved, she expressed her displeasure by a doleful unharmonious scream. “Well,” thought I, “this is not the pleasantest welcome possible,” and turning my eyes towards the land, “nor this the most interesting looking island in the world.” In fact, it looked dull and dreary; its mountains appeared barren and sunburnt; and the distance prevented me from seeing the valleys and dingles which in some degree redeem it from insipidity.

Our gallant vessel, however, still kept on her way, and—

“Walk’d the waters like a thing of life;”

and as we approached the land, the scene changed for the better. Bright green patches of the sugar-cane appeared amid the brown of the foremost mountains; while the more distant of the chain presented that harmonious blending of a thousand dyes, which poets love to sing, and painters love to study. As it happened to be that season of the year when the sugar harvest was in progress, the white sails of the various mills glittered in the sunbeams, and upon the eminences the manager’s house (or in the language of the country, the “great house”) looked down upon its little hamlet of negro huts, picturesquely embosomed in trees.

On, on we glided; the merry breeze piping in our ears, and the snow-white foam curling and writhing around our prow, until at length we came so near that we could see and almost count the waves as they dashed upon the silver sands of the surrounding bays. In one part a number of tall cocoa-nut trees stretched their long arms to the blast, whilst upon every side of us the light skiffs of the fishermen danced like cockle-shells upon the buoyant waters, and their dusky masters intently pursued their trade of entrapping the finny race.

Our good breeze did not desert us; and rapidly and surely we made way, until we passed over the bar, and entered the harbour of St. John’s. What a busy scene now presented itself to my view; the various ships from England, Scotland, Ireland,^[58] and America, distinguished by their several flags; the boats and droughers^[59] hurrying backwards and forwards with their loads; whilst the hallooing of the sailors, and the screaming of the negro watermen, conspired to render it the very imagery of discord.

The town of St. John’s, with its white houses and green jalousies, lay stretched before us, surmounted by its neat and pretty church; and upon our left the Fort of St. James and Rat Island. While looking at the latter, up went a flag, which, fluttering in the breeze, announced to the good people of St. John’s the arrival of a ship from “home” as the Antiguans always call England. Several boats now joined us from the shore, conveying friends to welcome us to Antigua; a harbour-master, (a very agreeable and worthy personage by-the-bye,) to make certain inquiries; custom-house officers, (of a superior class of men to those who board vessels in the Thames, and are so disagreeably distinguished by their undeviating devotion to that herb, which Sir Walter Raleigh, in his excessive overflow of human kindness, is said to have introduced into England,) to see that if you smuggled yourselves on shore, you did not smuggle your goods; and plenty of black boys, to grin and chatter, and get all the biscuit and beef they could.

But I must not omit to give a more particular account of the black pilot. A very pompous personage he was, and one who no doubt stood vastly high in his own estimation, as he lent upon the rail of the vessel, with his large straw hat, and gigantic snuff-box, giving orders to the sailors, and in the interim discussing the news of the island. “Hab fine rain last night; you bring good wedder​—​(war for you ’tand staring dere for, you black nigger ?)​—​yes, feber berry bad last month, many buckra die​—​(war you go do, run de ship on de shore?)​—​Crop bery good dis year; ship load fast ’nough​—​(why you no haul dat rope good?)​—​Yes, gubbernor bin bery bad; better now tho’.” And thus he ran on, until, the proper place gained, down dropped the ponderous anchor, a boat received us, and in a short time landed us “all well” upon one of the wharfs of Antigua, amid blacks and whites, porters and boatmen, and boys and girls clad “à la Venus.”

The harbour of St. John’s is reckoned one of the finest and most commodious in the West Indies. The entrance is defended by Goat Hill Fort on the south, and St. James Fort on the north; across the mouth of it runs a shoal, known as the bar, which extends from a bay called Hog John, to Fort James. The depth of water upon this bar is only from seven to fourteen feet; and consequently, ships, when they are partly laden, pass over this shoal, and take in the remainder of their cargo off Dickenson’s Bay. The principal trade of the island is carried on at this port, the harbour is generally full of shipping; and during the hurricane months, many vessels from the neighbouring islands come here for safety. The approach to it is, however, intersected with numerous rocks, and about three miles from its mouth lies a small island, surrounded by reefs and breakers, to which the name of “Sandy Island” has been attached. It was upon these reefs that, in 1826, the “Maria” mail boat was wrecked, and, with her hapless crew, went to the bottom. She had been down to St. Thomas and the other Islands with the mails for England;^[60] and upon her return, putting into Monserrat, took on board the Wesleyan missionaries, and their wives and children, who had been to St. Kitts to attend their yearly district meeting, and who were desirous of returning to Antigua, the scene of their labours. They had left St. Kitts a few days before, in a small vessel hired for the purpose; but finding it rather “crank,” they were unwilling to proceed, and determined to wait at Monserrat for the arrival of the “Maria.”

But who can look into futurity? who can tell what may be in store for him? The crank vessel reached Antigua in safety; the mail boat and all on board, with the exception of one solitary female, perished in the treacherous waters, almost within sight of their own homes​—​within hearing of the church bell. I never pass the spot without shuddering, and fancying what must have been the feelings of that one who was spared to tell the dreadful tale. A woman of lively imagination and affectionate disposition, she saw friend after friend washed away by the remorseless waves. The pride of manhood!​—​the shrinking delicacy of woman!​—​the helplessness of infancy!​—​all of no avail!​—​a splash​—​a bubble​—​and all was over, and their bodies filled the maw of some rapacious monster, or rested in some coral cave beneath the waters, there to remain until that great day, when sea and earth must give up their dead. Of the ill-fated voyagers, all who remained were, she who was destined to be the sole survivor, her husband, and the master of the vessel. Worn out by mental agony, and unavailing exertions to attract the notice of the many fishing-boats and other vessels which were constantly passing within their sight, but which either did not perceive or would not assist them, the master of the vessel gave himself up to the dominion of the “giant despair,” and losing his hold of the wreck, was quickly carried away by the waves. One more victim was required​—​and that was the dearest, the best beloved​—​her husband died in her arms, and after holding him for many a painful minute, and struggling for mastery with the billows to retain the much-loved corpse, nature became exhausted, and she sank into a state of insensibility. In this state she remained until the crew of some passing vessel raised an alarm upon their gaining shore. A party of gentlemen went in search of the supposed wreck, and finding the inanimate female, quickly conveyed her to the main land, where every care was lavished upon her, and happily not without success.

No one can read the affecting details of the sufferings of this unhappy crew (an account of which Mrs. Jones, the name of the lady, afterwards published) without feeling deep sorrow at the event. At the same time, no one dares to ask “why was it so?” All we can allege is,

“God moves in a mysterious way.”

This melancholy catastrophe was known at St. Kitts as soon as (if not before) it was at Antigua: the dead body of a child (one of the unfortunate passengers) conveyed the first direful tidings.

Sandy Island is by no means the only sentinel which Nature has placed to guard her favourite land from the sudden inroads of the enemy, the whole of the north side of Antigua being surrounded by rocks and breakers, which make it dangerous navigation. On this account ships generally come down the south side of the island, although some masters of vessels, from the impulse of a daring spirit, or from a want of knowledge, pursue the other course, and often have to lament the issue.

On the northern and eastern sides of Antigua a great number of small islands are scattered, and it is from some of these that the smooth yellowish free-stone, of which the Court-house is built, is obtained; this free-stone is proved to be composed of carbonate of lime and oxyde of iron. The principal of these islands are, Pole-cat Isle, Goat’s Isle, Guana^[61] Isle, Maiden’s Isle, Cochran’s Isle, and Long Island.

In 1700, Long Island, then the property of the Honourable Edward Byam, was sold by him, and it is now in the hands of the Honourable Bertie E. Jarvis. Since the Emancipation Act came into operation, a great part of it has been let out at an annual rent to the negroes, who plant it with provisions. It is noted for a peculiar breed of sheep, its rabbit-warrens, and the number of sea-side grape trees (Coccolobo uvifera) which grow in all directions. In former times, there was a mill and sugar works upon it, (the ruins of which are still to be seen,) and more than a thousand hogsheads of sugar have been known to be shipped from thence in one year. This apparent improbability has been thus accounted for: large quantities of sugars used to be smuggled from Martinique and Guadaloupe, and landed safely and silently upon Long Island, which is particularly favourable for such adventures. These sugars were afterwards shipped to England as the produce of the island, by the following evasion of the law. It was customary at that period, to swear before one of the magistrates, as to the quantity of sugar made and intended to be shipped; and the certificate was then taken to the collector of her majesty’s customs, who, seeing the signature of the magistrate, allowed all was correct. The parties who were possessed of this smuggled sugar, and who were wishful of transporting it to its destined market, would come before a justice and assert that the seven or nine hogsheads which they intended shipping on board such vessel were the real growth of Long Island; the customary oaths were therefore administered, the magistrate signed his name, and the cocket was presented to the shippers to hand over to the collector. On the road to the custom-house, however, with ready pen they added a ty to the seven or nine (or whatever it might be) in the space which was cunningly left for that purpose, making it of course seventy or ninety; and as no questions were asked by the collector, they were in this manner enabled, from 100 hogsheads of the actual growth of the island, to ship from time to time more than the above number of 1000 hogsheads. This practice of evading the law (while they soothed their own consciences) gave rise to these shipments being called the “T. Y. sugar,” as will be remembered by many to this day.

Guiana and Cochran Island also produced sugar at one time; and in 1725, it was enacted by the legislature, that if the proprietors of those islands, as well as Long Island, suffered any loss from the inroads of the enemy, they should be reimbursed from the public treasury as well as any other inhabitant of Antigua.

Following the line of coast from the north, before we once more make the harbour of St. John’s, we meet with, another “guard,” in the shape of a small island, bearing direct west from English Harbour, with a reef running three miles into the sea, and which is known as South Sandy Island. This is also very dangerous to unwary mariners, particularly when the storm king rides the blast, and “warns the devoted wretch of woe and death.”

But, with all its rocks and breakers, beautiful, very beautiful are the scenes which present themselves to your notice, as, seated upon the deck of some vessel, whose graceful sails are filled with a fresh and favourable breeze, you skirt along the sunny shores of lovely little Antigua. It has happened, in some of my frequent trips around the island, that, although the breeze has been fair, it was so light as scarcely to lift the canvas from the mast. But yet, the disappointment of not gaining land so soon as we expected has been amply compensated for by the beauties we have had more time to discover. Overhead is the sweet, clear blue of the sky, here and there dotted with a cloud so fair, that it might serve to pillow a sleeping Juno; and beneath, the crystal waters sparkling like gold in the beams of the blazing sun. In some parts, the green mountains descend to the very shore; while in others a calm and silent glen opens upon your sight, and the zephyr comes laden to you with the scent of its various flowers. Numerous creeks run far inland, and appear amid the surrounding verdure like chains of silver; and here and there a few negro huts lie nestling among a clump of splendid trees, with their neat-looking provision-grounds spread before them. As you pass Grace Bay, the land looks sprinkled over with gold, from the flowers of the aloe, (aloe vulgaris,) which grows there in vast profusion; and the shore is bordered with sand, on which Amphitrite and her train might love to dance, and wreathe their flowery locks with the dropping seaweeds. And thus we while away the day, enjoying an ever-changing panorama, until the glorious sun reaches the west, and throws his rich beams on every cloud which “throngs to pavilion him.” Suddenly he appears to touch the bosom of the flaming waves; and then sending forth one long vivid line of glory, sinks to rest on his golden couch.

Now comes “still evening” on, and Hesperus and all “the starry host” people the heavens, until at length the moon

“Shews her broad visage in the crimson’d east,”

and robs them of their brightness. And there she paces through those azure fields, not with the cold, pale aspect she wears in my own severer clime, but with the glow, the fervour, with which, in other days, she was wont, as “fabling poets” sing, to visit Endymion on the flowery heights of Latmus. Lovely is it, at such a time, to lean over the vessel’s side, and watch the limpid waves, as they throw up their sparkling foam. All turbulent passions die away​—​a pleasing calm ensues​—​and then, casting aside all heathen folly, and allowing the mind to revel at its will, come thoughts, indistinct, but beautiful, and dreamy imaginings of that happy land, where

“The crystaline stream, bursting forth from the throne,
  Flows on, and for ever will flow;
Its waves, as they roll, are with melody rife,
And its waters are sparkling with beauty and life,
  In the land which no mortal may know.”

But earth’s chains are still about us, and the fairest scenes may prove the most deadly. A kind voice warns me of the increasing cold of the night-breeze; and as the last inch of the cable slides through the hawse-hole, and the tremor of the vessel, as it is suddenly stopped in its course, shews we have anchored for the night, I leave the cool air upon deck for the confinement of the cabin, with a prayer of thankfulness upon my lips for my frequent safe trips across the “blue waters,” and a hope that to-morrow’s dawn will bring us safely to shore.

CHAPTER XV.

The extent of Antigua​—​Opinion of some planters​—​Want of agricultural labourers​—​Emigration not always profitable to the negroes​—​“Seizar’s” letter upon the subject​—​Return of emigrants​—​Soil of Antigua​—​Geological matters​—​Petrifactions​—​Climate of Antigua​—​“Yellow fever”​—​Beautiful evenings​—​the appearance of the heavens​—​Evening visitants.

Antigua, as already shewn in another part of this work, contains about 60,000 acres: of which, probably, four-fifths are in a state of cultivation. It was the opinion of many planters, soon after emancipation, that the mountainous estates must, in great measure, be neglected, as the steadiness of the negroes is not always to be relied upon; and from the difficulties of the land, the plough would be almost useless. These prognostications have not been fulfilled​—​at least, no such instance has ever come under my notice; on the contrary, in my rides through the country I have seen many spots of land, which once bore only grass or wild shrubs, planted with canes, and bearing the title of “a sugar estate,” which, I feel assured, had slavery continued, would never have been cultivated.

Still agricultural labourers are wanted; many of the negroes that were thus employed, while in a state of bondage, think it a disgrace to follow such patriarchal occupations now they are free. They therefore quit the country, take up the business of a mason or a carpenter, or something of the sort; and the result is, that not being competent, they are unable to procure work, and are idling about the street all day, until some vessel from the southern colonies, looking out for emigrants, holds out the temptation of high wages, which is ignorantly caught at by the negro; and he leaves his native island, his wife and children, without remorse, until sickness seizes him, and he is returned upon the country an emaciated being, unable to work at all.

Emigration is not always profitable to the negro, even if he retains his health. Many, many of them, would gladly return, were they not bound for a certain number of years by the captains of the emigration vessels, (who make a complete trade of it by selling their indentures,) or else taken so far up the country as too often prohibit such resolve. A clever letter appeared in one of the West Indian newspapers some time ago, supposed to have been written from a negro at St. Kitts to his friend of the same dye, who had emigrated to Demerara, which I will insert for the amusement of the reader:—

So much for “Massa Seizar’s” letter. I am not aware who is the actual writer of it; but the reasoning he puts into “Seizar’s” mouth is sound, and by the form in which it is presented may not improbably produce more effect than a graver production.

The soil of Antigua is composed of two distinct sorts; the one, a rich black mould on a substratum of clay; the other, a stiff reddish clay, mixed with sand, upon a substratum of marl. The former of these is very productive when not suffering from those excessive droughts to which this island is particularly subject; but the latter is generally overrun with that species of herbage, known as “Devil Grass,” (Cynodon dactylon,) which it is almost impossible to exterminate. Still, Antigua is one of the most fertile of the West India islands, and produces, in proportion, a larger crop than most of her sister colonies. The land requires, it is true, a quantity of manure, which is one reason for estates keeping such large herds of cattle as they do; but with the assistance of that, and the blessing of the “o’ercharged clouds,” she seldom disappoints the hopes of her planters; while her sugar stands as high as any in the English markets, and her rum has long been known for its pre-eminent qualities.

The mountains contain beautiful varieties of fossils, and other geological curiosities. Among these may be found in the south-west chain, masses of trap, breccia, wacke, porphyry, &c.; and in the inland parallel chain, splendid specimens of coralline schist, agate, jasper, chalcedony, amydoloid, cornelian, and silicified wood are to be met with, of which I need only raise my eyes to those collected before me to say how beautiful they are. These are generally found embedded in a matrix of a deep green colour, which of itself is very pretty, and when well arranged in buildings with the native free-stone, have a very good effect.

In the northern districts are found fragments of limestone, containing fossil shells, spars, and crystals of quartz. This chain, running north and south, is supposed to pass under the sea, forming a reef, and reappearing at Monserrat: it is said that the fish found upon this reef are particularly poisonous.

“Church Hill,” as it is termed, from the fact of the church being erected upon it, has been found to be composed of schist, enveloped in marl, and is particularly rich in its fossil shells. Thanks to the new flight of steps which have been lately erected, and the modifications made around that sacred building, (which has obliged the workmen to blast the rock,) I have been enabled to collect some fine varieties. Among these are conchs, cockles, &c., in which the striæ are perfect, and some of them are beautifully crystalized.

In almost all parts of the island petrifactions are to be met with. Among the most beautiful of those I have seen, may be enumerated red cedar, with agate intermixed; roots and branches of cocoa-nut trees; plantain stalks, with beautiful lines of agate running through them; a species of palm; a root of the dagger, (aloe vulgaris;) the black mangrove, a branch of a tree, supposed to be the ceibar, or silk-cotton, with cornelian; besides many other varieties. Ochres of various colours are also to be dug in some districts; and in most parts of the island are quarries of stone; but they are not generally made an article of traffic.

In some parts of the island are salt ponds, which might be worked to advantage here as well as at St. Kitts and Turk’s Island; but the Antiguans are not of an enterprising spirit; at least, all their attention is bestowed upon the cultivation of the sugar-cane, and if that succeeds, they are perfectly satisfied. Were it otherwise, there are many productions which might prove important and beneficial articles of commerce. Tobacco grows spontaneously about the country; coffee has become naturalized, and grows wild; it is said to be inferior in quality to that which grows in the other islands; but would not culture do much for it? Cotton, ginger, palma Christi,​—​all are disregarded; even the pimento is left to decay in its loveliness, and its fragrant fruit serves but to feed the feathered tribe; except when, at Christmas, its odorous boughs are gathered to flavour the plum-puddings of the negroes, or decorate the churches and houses, as the holly does in England.

Although the islands of the West Indies, being all situated between the Tropics, are, as regards climate, very similar, yet Antigua is generally reckoned more salubrious than any of the others. Possibly, the reason of this may be attributed to the dryness of the soil, for we have no rivers, and very few marshes, as in many of the other islands, to exhale any degree of humidity. The towns are now also kept very clean and wholesome, particularly the capital, so that island seldom suffers from any pestilential diseases. The “Yellow Fever,” that dreaded scourge of the West Indies, has, however, frequently raged here to great extent, particularly in former years. In 1793 it was very violent in its effects​—​nearly the whole of the inhabitants of St. John’s fell ill with it, and many deaths occurred. It broke out in the shipping in the harbour, and was supposed to have been brought ashore in a blanket, which had been wrapt round a person who had fallen a victim to it. In 1816 it again appeared, but not to such extent; but after the hurricane, in 1835, it raged with much virulence,​—​snatched many a young and beloved one from the family circle​—​separated parent and child​—​severed the holy bands of matrimony, and laid its victims in the cold and silent grave.

It was supposed to be occasioned by the different effluvia which tainted the air after the gale; particularly that from the filth, which had for so many years been accumulating at the bottom of the harbour, and which, from the violence of the wind, had been completely stirred up.

The warmest months of the year are June, July, and August. The sun, when not obscured by the density of the clouds, shines with a burning lustre; and did he not

“——— kind before him send
The genial breeze, to mitigate his fire,
And breathe refreshment on a fainting world,”

the heat would be insupportable.

The meridian height of the thermometer, during this season, is, in the shade, about 80°, and the other parts of the year 70°; but I have observed the mercury to be, from the end of June to the end of August, from 86° to 90°, and often even higher. The sun is vertical at Antigua on the 7th of May and the 5th of August; and consequently on those days the inhabitants are ascii at noon.

September, and the two succeeding months, are generally reckoned the most unhealthy periods of the year. At one moment, the sun darts its rays with an intensity almost insupportable, while the sea-breeze (that friend to sufferers from “all-conquering heat”) dies away, and a slothful calm prevails; at other times, the sun is hidden by black portentous clouds; the air is chilly and unwholesome, and rank and noxious vapours are abroad.

The longest day consists of about 13 hours; the shortest about ten. In these latitudes, there is scarcely any aurora, or twilight, so that it is scarcely light until the sun is up, and soon after he sets, it becomes dark.

Suffering as the inhabitants do, from the great heat of the days, the delightful evenings are particularly enjoyed. No sooner has the sun hidden his rays in the bosom of the ocean, than the land-breeze arises; this, blowing as it were from the centre of the island, towards the sea, appears to come from all points of the compass at once. Evening is the time for walking; and often have I seen beautiful faces, and bright eyes, gleaming in the moonbeams.

Every author who has written about these “sunburnt isles,” has, I think, mentioned the beauties of a West Indian night, and well worthy is it to be praised. The sky is of a deeper and more lovely blue, almost approximating to violet; and the atmosphere is so much clearer than in England, that many stars are visible to the naked eye which there require the aid of a telescope. The larger planets glitter with a refulgence unknown to more temperate latitudes—

“With purest ray,
Sweet Venus shines,”

and appears almost like another moon. Mars rolls on in eternal solitude, shewing his broad red face to our wondering gaze. Bright-eyed Jove, with his “atmospheric belt,” almost blinds us with his lustre; while the galaxy (or milky way) looks like—

“A circling zone, powder’d with stars;”

thus they glide on in their beauty—

“Bright wanderers o’er the blue sky free;”

but oh! when our own attendant planet, the “Silver Queen of night,” rises in peerless majesty, shedding a flood of glory over all the surrounding landscape, the scene is inexpressibly lovely. How often, when enjoying her beams, and gazing on her “spotted disk,” have I thought of those lines of Mrs. Charlotte Smith—

“And while I gaze, thy mild and placid light
Sheds a soft calm upon my troubled breast;
And oft I think, fair planet of the night,
That in thy orb the wretched might find rest.”

The stillness and calmness of an English summer’s evening have been often and often described by our poets; here, however, no quietness is to be met with, but on the contrary all is bustle and noise. Sounds of every description fill the air, as soon as “evening grey” sets in. Parties of negroes, men, women, and children, gather together in groups, worthy the illustrative pencil of Cruikshank, to gabble away their nancy stories, relate their quarrels, or discuss the other business of the day. Bats of every size and shape fly backwards and forwards in search of their prey, or pay you an unceremonious visit through the open jalousies of your houses. Crickets and frogs raise their shrill pipes, which grate most unmusically upon the ear; cock-roaches (those disgusting pests of the West Indies) crawl over the floors, or ceilings of the apartments, or at times take the liberty of brushing in your face, or nestling in your hair; mosquitoes hum their monotonous song, or insert their proboscis into every accessible part of your flesh; while the land crabs clatter about, just like an old woman in pattens. The houses are lighted up as if for an illumination, the windows are thrown open to admit the evening air, and the fair inhabitants amuse themselves by playing upon harpsichords, or similar musical instruments, “Blue Bells of Scotland,” “Home, Sweet Home,” and other popular melodies.

CHAPTER XVI.

Scenery of Antigua​—​Pilgrimage to “Tom Moore’s Spring”​—​The Goddess Mnemosyne​—​Fig-Tree Hill​—​The “Bower of Bliss”​—​“Old Road”​—​The Strand​—​The cross sexton​—​The parochial school​—​Old Road Church​—​Tomb of Col. Williams​—​Moravian settlement​—​Salt ponds​—​Copses​—​“Crab Hill”​—​Sandy Valley​—​The Valley Church​—​The rising moon​—​Arrival in town​—​Night, and night dreams.

With respect to the scenery of Antigua, it is said to be neither “grand nor magnificent,” that “its mountains are too much like mole-hills,”^[62] and in many other ways has it been depreciated; yet there are some spots of real beauty, which would strike the eye of even a painter or a poet. To see some of these to the greatest advantage, I would advise all such readers as have it in their power to take a drive or a ride (whichever they prefer) some fine morning to “Fig Tree Hill,” and return by “Crab Hill.” They will then meet with spots of such transcendent loveliness, as will cause the most unpoetic to exclaim, “Beautiful! beautiful!” But as some of my readers, perhaps, may never have the chance of taking such a tour, in pity to them, I will attempt to describe what I saw in my pilgrimage to “Tom Moore’s Spring.”

It was a lovely morning (as most West India mornings are) when we started upon our journey. The sun shone bright and clear; indeed, far too clear for actual comfort, had we gone as “pilgrims grey,” with “scalloped hat,” and “sandled shoon,” and resting on our “staves;” but we preferred the less romantic, but more pleasant way of taking it quietly in our carriage. Quickly we passed through the town of St. John’s, leaving its busy inmates, its shops and stores, its “Scotch row” and Scotchmen, and all its noise and bustle, for the quietness and freshness of the country. Upon gaining “Otto’s Hill,” at the outskirts of the town, I looked back upon the beautiful harbour of St. John’s, its blue waves just rippling the surface, its barques and brigs, schooners and sloops, bowing their heads as if in graceful homage to some sea-god from old King Neptune’s court; and its sloping shores displaying a carpet of luxuriant green, for a little rain which had fallen not long before had clothed the fields in a garb of lovely verdure. While thinking upon all these beauties, and the images they called up, my poetic fancies were crushed by the horrible noise of a long string of “cattle carts” and their sable drivers, coming into town with a load of molasses for “Brother Jonathan,” or some other worthy. This brought me down from the seventh heaven, and made me just then find out that it was very hot, and the road disagreeably dusty. However, in our pilgrimage through life, we meet with many crosses, and many dusty spots; and therefore, in our pilgrimage to “Tom Moore’s Spring,” we could but expect the same.

The country certainly looked very pretty upon this eventful day, for every spot was green, and as we passed the numerous estates, an air of gladness seemed to be abroad. The breeze blew soft from off the mountains we were approaching, and greeted our olfactory nerves with the odour of the yellow acacia, which grew along the side of the road in vast profusion. In a short time, we reached the banks of a small rivulet, the only real stream Antigua can boast of, for the few others we passed owed their source more to the late rains than anything else. This rivulet was bordered by bamboos, and other species of wild cane, while larger trees, in many parts, shewed their gnarled roots, and bent their long boughs to kiss the swift gliding waters. Various aquatic plants grew along its margin, while in the stream itself sported my own country’s water-lily, bright nymphæa. Near to the spot stands a rural little temple of worship, with its plain white walls, and a little cross upon its roof, and across the rivulet is thrown a rustic bridge. This is a favourite resort for country washerwomen, and as we passed, many of them were busily engaged in their very necessary avocations; but as none of them presented the appearance of a nymph or a naïad, I will not introduce them to my readers.

We had heard of the bad state of the roads before we left our home, of the hills we had to mount, and the dingles we had to go down; of the terrible ravines on one side, and the bare rocks on the other, and of places where the least swerve of the carriage would send us over, and then, according to our informant, “it would be no use to go look for you.” At every turn of the road, then, we looked for some trial, and “screwed up our courage to the sticking-point,” that we might be enabled to overcome them; but after travelling for some time, and meeting with nothing very terrific, we began to console ourselves, and remark, that the difficulties appeared to lie in the imagination. At length, we came to a pretty steep hill, which we surmounted in due time, and again sped on our way joyfully, thinking that all was very fair, when lo! up rose before us, if not a mountain, at least, a giant hill. Here would be the “tug of war,” so we called a council. “What is to be done?” was the first query. “Why, either go on or go back” was the answer. The old adage of “out of two evils, choose the least,” came into our thoughts. There was the hill behind, and the hill before, so we agreed to lay the various “for’s” and “against’s” before us in a very orthodox manner.

To commence then: if we go on, we must mount this hill, but when we have accomplished that, we shall have no other of great consequence; we were near half way, so we should have almost as far to go back as to go on; on the other side, if we returned, we should still have a hill before us, and not have the consolation of visiting the celebrated “fig-tree.” Having come to the conclusion of our arguments, the word was given “forward,” and forward we attempted to go; but there were some of our party whose opinions had not been asked, but who, no doubt, felt as great concern in the decision as any one else; I mean those very noble animals ycleped “horses,” and for reasons my readers may easily conceive they appeared resolved not to proceed. After a few words of encouragement, however, and a few caresses, they agreed to lend us their aid, and once more we started.

During the period that all this momentous business was going on, we had totally neglected the appearance of the weather, and had not a drop or two of rain fallen, and the sound of a distant clap of thunder echoed round us, I dare say we should not have thought upon such a subject. Here, then, was romance; a thunder-storm, and “Sawcolt Hill”​—​it only wanted an old castle and a horde of banditti to make it a scene worthy the pen of a “Radcliffe.” The lambent lightning played for awhile, and the thunder bellowed through the boundless sky, and then passed slowly away to the west, very much to my satisfaction. “Sawcolt Hill” was ascended, and descended, and the road became more beautiful at every turn, until at length we stood by the side of the noted freshwater spring. And what then were my reflections? I thought it was lovely in everything but its name​—​“Tom Moore’s Spring!” Who, in the name of all that’s romantic, could call such a spring by such a name? Had it been the “fairy’s spring,” or the “spring of the mountain sylph,” or something of the kind, it would have sounded as it ought, and some charming legend might have been attached. But who could ever inquire after “Tom Moore?” Why, the name of such a being puts all fancies to the flight!

Thus far had my thoughts wandered, when suddenly, an ideal form passed before me; her sweet and classic countenance​—​her eyes which mocked the heavens in their dye​—​her long and silken lashes which drank the dew of her vermilion cheeks, all conspired to render me entranced. A blue mantle floated from her shoulders, and a thousand graces hovered round her steps. As she glided away, she placed one of her taper fingers upon her ruby lips, and, in a voice of liquid sweetness, uttered the word, “Remember!” I knew her for the goddess “Mnemosyne,” and I tried to follow her behest. My beautiful goddess assisted me, and brought to my recollection that “Bulbul of a thousand songs,” that sweet rhymer who charms us with his “bower of roses by Bendameer’s stream,” as with his melodies of the “Emerald Isle,” he who bears the well-known appellation of “Tom Moore.” I remembered all this to my shame, and determined in future never to utter one word against it, did all the springs in Antigua bear that name. After making this resolution, I turned once more to inspect “Tom Moore’s Spring.” The water is as clear as crystal, and of a refreshing coolness; and as it trickles from beneath the roots of a large bamboo growing by, each drop looks like liquid pearl. It has never been known to be dry, let the season be what it will, and consequently must be of inexpressible value to the adjoining estates. It was formerly built round with a stone wall, but that has long ago fallen to ruin, and no one has troubled himself to erect it again. I blame none, however, upon this score, for, in my opinion, it looks more romantic as it is; nature has done much for it, and art would only spoil her work.

After leaving the spring, another height presented itself, clothed with luxuriant woods. This was “Fig-tree Hill,” and no description I have ever heard of it has sufficiently set forth its beauty. Upon one side of the road is a deep ravine, whose irregular descent is hidden by trees of every description, which cover it to the bottom, and again ascend upon the opposite bank, until they reach the top of the neighbouring mountain; on the other side are sloping hills, carpeted with the gayest emerald. This beautiful hill takes its name from several large fig-trees which grow around; and from its highest point can be distinctly seen, upon a clear day, the four islands of Guadaloupe, Monserrat, Nevis, and St. Kitts.

After remaining upon the height for some time, and enjoying the extensive prospect, we prepared to descend; but how to describe the loveliness of the path, I know not. We alighted and walked down, that nothing might escape our observation. Trees of all species abound, and—

“With confessed magnificence deride
Our vile attire, and impotence of pride.”

The lofty “red cedar,” the beautiful “white-wood,” the glossy-green “loblolly,” the treacherous “manchineel,” which invites your approach by its beautiful fruit, while it infects you with its poisonous odours; the enormous “ceibar,” (or silk cotton,) the native “walnut,” (which in every tree presents such varying shades of green,) and the splendid “tamarind,” shade each side of the road, and cover the surrounding hills.

In many places, huge masses of fantastic rocks rear their bare fronts to the heavens; some taking the form of old castles, with their frowning battlements and strong ramparts; and others looking as if about to fall into the valleys beneath.

Just at the termination of the first descent is one of the sweetest spots in Antigua. It is one of tranquillity and repose. The fierce beams of the sun are excluded by the umbrageous foliage of the trees, around whose trunks various creepers entwine themselves, and throw their slender limbs from one to the other of these

“Green-robed senators of mighty woods,”

forming many beauteous alcoves, carpeted with the lowlier flowers; whilst the “purple wreath” hangs its tasseled blossoms on all sides, and gives an air of lightness to the whole. A little silver stream (one of those the offspring of the balmy showers before mentioned) crossed the road in this part; and after leaping over roots of trees, or any other slight impediment which fell in its way, and thereby causing a thousand translucent waterfalls, at length lost itself in the impending woods. Oh! it was a lovely scene, and put me very much in mind of Spenser’s “Bower of Bliss;” particularly when

“Was heard a most melodious sound
Of all that could delight a curious ear;
Such as might not upon terrestrial ground,
Save in this paradise, be heard elsewhere.
Full hard it was for him, who did it hear,
To guess what sort of music this might be;
For all that pleasing is to living ear
Were there soft mingled in one harmony:
Birds, voices, instruments, winds, waters, all agree.”

This was a true delineation; for although most tropical birds are devoid of song, the “painted warblers” might here be said to hop “from spray to spray.” The pretty little humming-bird fluttered among the flowers, extracting from them, with its long and slender beak, the liquid honey; and the doves courted each other with soft, but melancholy cooing, from many a leafy brake. Upon my remarking I never before heard birds sing in the West Indies, our negro-servant joined the conversation with​—​“Oh, missis! if you was to come here early in the moring, before the sun high, you would hear the birds singing in such a manner, that it would make you feel quite dismal all de day.” The first time I ever heard of the song of a bird producing such an effect.

But to return to my description of this sweetest of all sweet spots. Did we live in “days of yore,” when fairies were wont to visit our world, and astonish the benighted swains with their glittering processions, we could fancy this one of their favourite retreats; but, alas! those harmless goblins have long disappeared, and with them all moonlight revels. The negroes, however, are determined it shall not be without some aerial visitants, so have peopled it with a tribe of jumbies, who, according to their account, are very different in behaviour and appearance to the pretty little elves.

After carving our names upon the trunk of a noble tree, which appears to grow out of a rock, we proceeded on our journey through the same lovely scenes, which now became interspersed with palm-trees, until we entered upon a plain, on one side studded over with ruined Carib houses, and on the other, laid out in luxuriant cane-pieces, belonging to the Hon. Rowland E. Williams, the descendant of a long line of noble ancestors, and whose paternal domain extends throughout the lovely scenes I have been endeavouring to describe. A few minutes’ drive brought us to “Old Road,” so called because it was the first high-road made in Antigua.

This town, if town it can be called, is, as regards architective arrangement, a perfect nondescript; for streets there are none, but here and there a straggling house. There is the beach, indeed, which may justly be termed “the strand;” but, unlike that far-famed street in London, boasts no splendid shops​—​no arcades or bazaars, with their “euterpeons”​—​no brilliant lines of lamps, or crowds of well-dressed and busy passengers. A plentiful supply of bushes and “rock-stones” (as the Creoles call all descriptions of stones) make up for those deficiencies; and the murmur of old Father Ocean is the only music heard. Of the houses which are to be found, a few of them are in repair; but the greater part are falling to ruin, and have become a receptacle for hordes of green lizards. One of these buildings struck me as rather peculiar in appearance. Nothing remained of it, it is true, but the walls of rough masonry, with huge gable-ends pointing to the skies; but still it seemed as the work of another race of beings. Upon making inquiries about it, an inhabitant informed us her grandmother (who had died several years before, at the advanced age of 116) remembered it in the same ruinous state from her earliest years; but we could learn no further particulars.

Our principal object for visiting “Old Road,” was to see a tombstone in the church, laid down to the memory of Col. Rowland Williams; and consequently, as soon as we arrived, our first inquiry was for the person who kept the keys of the church, and who acts in the capacity of sexton. While waiting for this official, we walked down to the beach. The harbour is a very fine one, and forms a complete rotund, except in the opening, where the sea stretches out beyond ken. A line of smooth silver sand borders the sea, diversified with clumps of mangrove, manchineel, and sea-side grapes; while here and there a cocoa-nut tree rears aloft its proud head, as if scorning to herd with the lowlier of its kind. For some time we amused ourselves with picking up various small shells, matted sea-weed, and corallines, which were scattered about the beach in profusion; but the heat, notwithstanding the fresh sea-breeze, was beginning to be felt oppressive; when turning the angle of one of the old buildings, a man with a bunch of keys in his hand appeared in sight.

Although not always the case, still very generally, the face is the index to the mind; and when I first saw that man, I felt prejudiced against him. He came forward with a slovenly gait, and downcast looks, and to our inquiries for the keys of the church, he returned for answer, “Yes, but I can’t let you in.” On asking the reason, the rejoinder was, “Because the parson told me not to let any one go into the church.” This was by no means cheering news for us; it was far from satisfactory after riding fifteen miles, to be turned away without seeing the very object we came to look at. Every kind of persuasion was used to induce him to comply. I joined in urging him to “ope’ the door, and bid us enter,” but alas! I found him as insensible to the voice of woman, as to everything else. “Can we go into the churchyard?” was then inquired. “Yes,” was the surly answer; and following his steps, we soon reached that quiet spot.

Even here he apparently viewed us with suspicion, thinking, perhaps, we not only looked capable of sacrilege, but of carrying away the church also; for although he still had the keys in his hand, and the rain began to fall, he not only remained inexorable, but looked as if he should be quite as well pleased if we quitted the place altogether. “The rain was falling fast,” and obliged us to retire to the shelter of a large white-wood tree, which no doubt was coeval with the first settlers, and beneath its spreading branches we remained for some time, until one of our party determined to try some other expedient, to gain the wished-for admittance, and for that purpose left myself and attendant in our shady retreat.

After the lapse of about a quarter of an hour, a well-known voice was heard; and at an opening in the leafy covert, the person it proceeded from appeared, accompanied by a female. This was the parochial school-mistress; and a kind-hearted creature she appeared to be. She immediately sent in search of the cross sexton, and promised to take upon herself the responsibility of letting our party into the church; but the man was not to be found​—​he had left the town, and carried the keys with him. With native politeness, Miss Austin (as the worthy school-mistress was called) invited us to rest in her house until she could make further inquiries after the “keys;” and following our conductress, we shortly arrived at her residence, where (with a very warrantable kind of pride) she informed us, her mother was born, and married, and had reared eight children. Long before we gained the house, the hum of little voices was heard; and upon approaching the open door, about forty children, who formed the school, rose up, and commenced singing, “We make our obeisance to you, ma’am,” to the tune of “L—a—w, Law;” while a parrot, suspended from a beam, if she did not sing, at least screeched in chorus. After looking at these little negroes for some time, and inspecting the simple decorations of their school-room, we were ushered up stairs, and introduced to Miss Austin’s two sisters.

I cannot help speaking more fully of the polite behaviour of this trio. I came among them a perfect stranger, my name even being unknown, and in all probability never again to meet in this world; but every little attention possible was lavished upon me, the choicest produce of their garden tendered, and without the least parade. I have mixed with society in a far higher grade, where courtly manners prevail, and every art is tried to invest each action with a polished grace; but often, very often, has less native good-breeding, fewer sterling qualities of the mind been displayed than I found in the sisters of “Old Road.” They are not like the generality of persons in their line of life; hospitality indeed is, I believe, a virtue which most of them possess; but there was no aping of their betters, as is too frequently the case with this class of people; no flying away, when we came so suddenly upon them, to put on a brass chain, or a string of glass beads; or to take off an untidy wrapper, to enrobe themselves in a smart gown; their neat dresses and snow-white collars, like beauty, needed not “the foreign aid of ornament.”

Many a beautiful tree grew around their humble dwelling, and many a sweet-scented flower almost entered the open windows. When we had rested for a short time, we proceeded to the garden, to see a lime-tree. Knowing as I did the blighted state of these trees in Antigua, I expected to see a diminutive shrub; what, then, was my surprise, upon entering the little paddock, (for it had more the appearance of that than a garden,) to see a noble tree, covering the space of about fifty square feet, loaded with its fragrant fruit to the very ground. Well worthy was it to be looked at! well worthy to be praised by an abler pen than mine!​—​no indefinite article could be used to this shrub; it must be called the lime tree, and nothing else. While looking, again and again, at this beautiful tree​—​pressing its odorous leaves, and inhaling the scent of its golden fruit, the youngest sister remarked, “The archdeacon was here the other day, to catechise the children, and upon seeing this tree, said it looked as if the blessing of God was upon it.” And in truth it does appear so, for it flourishes on in its beauty in the midst of a burning sand, whilst most of its species are blighted and seared.

After leaving the lime-tree, we returned to the house and heard the children read a chapter in the Bible, and repeat the gospel, which they did very correctly, although some of them had not numbered their fifth year, thus proving the pains their tutoress takes with them; and then, putting up with our disappointment, left for home. As we were passing the church, Mr. Sexton appeared to have altered his mind in some degree, for (but with a very indifferent grace, it must be owned) he condescended to open the church door, and allow us entrance. The church, which is composed of hewn stone, is built in the form of a cross, and is noted for being the first place of public worship erected in Antigua. There is nothing very remarkable in the interior; the walls are plain white, and the floor paved with brick; but it is a quiet little church, where the good people of that neighbourhood may worship their God in peace. Over the altar is an old painting of Moses and Aaron in their robes; and under the communion table reposes the ashes of him who may be called the founder of the church; for he gave the land, and liberally contributed towards its erection. This was Col. Rowland Williams, who, as before-mentioned, was celebrated for his various good qualities, as well as humanity, in a period when the West Indies were generally enveloped in moral darkness. The epitaph upon his tomb-stone is inscribed in Latin; but as many of my readers no doubt prefer the English translation, I will insert it, which I am enabled to do through the kindness of the Rev. H. G. Hall.

Here safely lie in Mother Earth
The mortal remains of Rowland Williams.
We are but dust and ashes!
He was the first male infant of European extraction
Lawfully born in this island.
When he attained to manhood, he conducted himself
As a man,
Being equally in military, as in civil life, an honour
As well to himself, as to his connexions.
In the field, he was a bold commander;
In the senate, he was a wise councillor:
What avails strength without wisdom?
He was a loyal subject of his king, a protector of
His country,
A true father to his children, hospitable to his guests,
A friend to his friends. In a word,
He was all things to all men.
Throughout his whole life he displayed,
With health of body, soundness of mind.
Possessing the strictest honesty and much wealth.
He fell a tardy victim to death,
Having survived about eighty years.
He was buried the twentieth day of ——— 1713.
Since it is certain that we must die,
We should without delay take warning against it.

Near the altar is an elegant and chastely ornamented white marble tablet, erected to the memory of Mrs. Williams, daughter of Sir Patrick Ross, K. C. B., and wife of the Hon. Rowland E. Williams, the great-great-grandson of the above Col. Williams. This exemplary lady died at the early age of 32; respected by all classes, and deeply regretted by those who were honoured with her friendship. The following lines are engraved on the tablet:—

“Death, ere thou canst claim another,
Fair, and good, and wise as she,
Time shall hurl his dart at thee.”^[63]

After copying these inscriptions, and casting one more glance round this rustic church, we returned to our carriage, and proceeded on our journey to “Crab Hill.” Before relating the rest of our adventures, I must remark, that the line of conduct pursued by the sexton of “Old Road” is not common in Antigua, such officials being generally very obliging.

Near to “Old Road” is a pond, which is formed by the hand of nature into a complete bason. It is surrounded with some fine and noble trees, which form a screen, and is embellished with a variety of odoriferous flowers, which bloom and die unknown and uncared for, illustrating those beautiful lines of Gray’s—

“Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.”

Near to this spot is a natural excavation, called the “Devil’s Punch Bowl,” which, although I had often heard it spoken of as something very grand, did not cause me much pleasure or astonishment, being, in fact, nothing more than a deep hole, with a little turbid water at the bottom.

About a stone’s throw from “Old Road,” on the top of the hill, stands a Moravian settlement, with its neat white house and chapel; there is always an air of comfort around these settlements, which speaks to an English heart; and the Moravians themselves are a quiet, well-meaning people, diligent in the discharge of their ministerial duties, and earnestly desiring their people’s welfare. May they meet their reward!

After passing the fort of “Old Road,” the next place which attracted our notice was the salt ponds, with their fringe of mangrove trees and little islands. Innumerable soldier crabs were hurrying to and fro,​—​some looking out for a new coat of mail, in the form of a new shell, and others hunting for their prey, which is very frequently the weak and small of their own class. The sea now burst upon our sight, and added to the beauty of the scene; its surface was as smooth and clear as a mirror, except where the breakers played over a long reef, which runs far out from shore, and threw up their lovely but dangerous spray in measured showers,​—​no wonder the ancients fabled their goddess of beauty to have sprung from this sparkling object.

After passing the rectory of St. Mary’s, our road lay through copses, whose overhanging boughs formed a beautiful and verdant arch. The sunbeams, penetrating through them, danced in sportive glee upon the chequered ground, while between the boles we caught picturesque glimpses of the ocean. I could not help noticing one peculiarity in passing through these woods, that almost every tree is decorated with that species of parasite called wild pines;^[64] the great varieties of cactus was also remarkable.

After journeying along the road for about a mile, we came in view of “Crab Hill,” noted for the dangers it presents to travellers, should their horses prove restive, or night overtake them. Here again we alighted, determined that nothing should escape our gaze. The road rises about 180 feet from the sea, in an abrupt precipice clothed with the dwarf acacia and “milk-bush”​—​those ever-to-be-found productions of Antigua. A low wall of stones, loosely piled, borders the edge of the road, which would prove but a sorry guard against any accident. In the steepest part of the hill, we looked over, and watched in silence the beautiful but treacherous waves, as they laved the rocky base of the precipice. Here and there a blasted parasite clung to it, and feebly strove to hide its ugliness; and one or two sea-birds sat watching for their prey, and pluming their rumpled feathers. At the sound of our voices they started, and after turning upon us their bright quick eyes for a moment, as if to ask why we obtruded upon their solitude, flapped their wings and soared screaming away through the vaulted ether.

We enjoyed the scene for some time longer, and then remembering we were still many miles from the capital, and the sun had almost completed his daily journey, we resumed our seats and set our faces towards home. A ride of a few more minutes brought us to a place called “Sandy Valley,” which proved not to be, like some places, a misnomer, for there is sand enough for any one’s taste, and fine glittering sand it is too. The sea bounds one side of the valley, and a stagnant marsh the other.

Leaving this, we passed by the valley church and school, cultivated cane-pieces and neat-looking “great houses,” negro huts and provision grounds, and an open country, for we were rapidly leaving the mountains behind us. On our right, we passed a methodist settlement, and another belonging to the Moravians, and hard by a fresh-water spring; but I began to feel very tired, and consequently did not find out beauties which otherwise might have attracted my attention. A pretty sloping hill lay before us, and as we passed, the “full-orb’d moon” rose above it, and

“O’er the night her silver mantle threw.”

A sudden turn in the road placed her lovely face behind us, and languidly reclining in a snug corner, I mused in silence upon the beautiful scenes I had passed through in our pilgrimage, until roused by a bustle in the road, just at the entrance of the capital, where men and boys, long poles and ropes, and that very respectable quadruped, dignified by Antiguans with cognomination of “a cattle,” formed the figurantes. The poor creature had been landed from an American vessel that morning, at a neighbouring bay, and exhausted, I suppose, with the discomfits of its voyage, had fallen down on its way to the butcher’s. I don’t think its sufferings were of long continuance, for the next morning I heard the black bellman announcing to the public, that “A fine fat ’merican ox was slaughtered at the shambles of ‘Seizar’ James.”^[65]

But to conclude our adventures; we rapidly passed through the grass-market and the town, heard the jingle of many a piano and the squeak of many a flute, (I mean no disparagement to the performers,) almost ran over a pig or two, who, spite of a late prohibition, were walking out to enjoy the cool of the evening; and at length safely alighted at our residence in “Spring Gardens.”

In the course of an hour or two, I willingly resigned myself to the dominion of sleep, and dreamt of mountains and thunder-storms, springs and fairies, precipices and lime-trees.

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.”

CHAPTER XVIII.

Description of the town of St. John’s, the capital of Antigua​—​Situation​—​Arrangement of the streets​—​Hucksters​—​Houses​—​Springs​—​Small shops​—​Stores of the retail dealers​—​Grog-shops​—​Merchants’ stores and lumber yards​—​Definition of lumber​—​Auction sales​—​Scotch Row and Scotchmen​—​Incongruous display of goods​—​Fire in 1797​—​Ruins​—​Fire in 1841​—​Its devastations.

St. John’s, the capital of Antigua, is situated on the west side of the island, and contains about 979 houses. It is built upon a slight declivity, and commands a beautiful view of the harbour, which is one of the prettiest in the West Indies.

The town, which is well arranged, covers a space of about 150 acres of land; most of the streets are wide and well-kept, and intersect each other at right angles​—​the principal ones running in a straight line down to the sea. There is one peculiarity attending the construction of these streets, which is, that there are no causeways; and consequently, the pedestrian traveller has to elbow his way amid trucks and handbarrows, gigs, carriages, and horsemen, droves of cattle, or cargoes of mules, just landed from other countries, cattle-carts, or moving houses.

At the corners of the different streets are seated hucksters, (black or coloured women;)^[68] some with their shallow trays, containing cakes of all descriptions, parched ground nuts, (the arachis hypogœa,) sugar-cakes, and other confections, and varieties of fruits and vegetables; others have piles of cottons, coloured calicoes, bright-tinted handkerchiefs, &c., placed by them, or carefully spread along the sides of the most frequented streets, to attract the eye of the passer-by. As most of the Antiguan houses are raised a few feet from the ground, which necessarily requires the use of a step or two, the hucksters are very fond of monopolizing such appurtenances; and it is no uncommon thing to be obliged to wait until they remove their different wares, before you can enter the house, or else take the chance of breaking your neck over heaps of potatoes, or come in closer contact than is advisable with bottles of ginger-drink, or pots and pans of gorgeous colours, from the well-known English potteries.

The houses are generally built of wood, painted of a white or light stone colour, with bright green jalousies, or glass windows and green Venetian blinds. The greater number have covered galleries running along the sides or fronts of them, in which the good people love to assemble in the cool of evening, and while away the hours in converse sweet, or scan over the island newspapers​—​two of which issue weekly from respective presses, to enlighten the worthy inhabitants as to what is passing in their little colony.

Some of these dwellings are very commodious, and make a good appearance, particularly when shaded by a few beautiful trees, or standing, as many of them do, in a small garden, embellished with Flora’s splendid children. But as for following any of the five orders in their architectural adornments, that is quite out of the question; or at least, it is an order of their own invention they prefer, and which may be called the Antiguan.

Within these last few years, a few houses have been erected, with low roofs and parapet walls; the usual plan is to have that necessary part of the dwelling raised in the fashion of an English barn, or an Egyptian pyramid. One peculiarity which strikes the eye of a stranger in these dwellings, is the absence of chimneys​—​the kitchens being, in most instances, detached from the house; and the heat of the climate, as a matter of course, renders all grates or stoves, and their accompanying flues, unnecessary.

Since the serious droughts in 1833, springs or wells have been dug in various parts of the town, which, although the water is brackish, are of great use for many domestic purposes, particularly to the lower classes, who do not possess a cistern. These springs have been lately modified by having water-engines attached to them, and enclosed by a low wall and wooden palisadings, painted of a bright sky-colour. Methinks, however, that Master Sol will soon spoil their flaunting beauty. It is a pity the directors of these improvements did not choose green instead of the other colour; for, from the whiteness of the streets, and the extreme glare of the sunbeams, we require something to relieve and cool the eye; and much as we admire the lovely tint of the heavens, light blue palings do not equally fascinate our gaze.

In different parts of the town are numbers of small shops, of about six or eight feet square, in which varieties of trades are carried on. In one may be seen a cobbler​—​no! I beg their pardon​—​a cordwainer; himself shoeless, busily employed in forming, from his not very fragrant materials, a pair of creaking high-heeled boots, for the use of some black exquisite. A bunch of human hair attached to the end of a long stick, and moving with every breeze, bespeaks the abode of a barber and hair-dresser; while a multiplicity of shreds of cloth, half-finished vests, a goose, and other et ceteras, with a group of mortals seated à la Turque, proves beyond doubt that the inmates are of that particular class of beings, nine individuals of which are required to form one ordinary man. Others, again, of the receptacles of trade, are stocked with provisions, such as small quantities of salt pork, corn, flour, candles, butter, (of the consistence of honey,) a few dried peas, or horse-beans, and any other little matters; while some contain dry goods, as it is customary, in this island, to term all articles of drapery. Small as these tenements are, many of them are divided by a lathed partition, forming on one side a butcher’s shamble, where an array of sheep’s heads, miserable specimens of legs of mutton, and saffron-coloured pork, may be met with, which, carnivorous as it must be allowed we all are, few like their eyes to dwell upon; while, on the other side, gown-pieces, and “blue checks,” with other “odds and ends,” claim the frequenters’ attention.

Next to these small shops, come the stores of the retail provision dealers, which are upon a larger scale, and of course better supplied with goods. Then there are the grog shops, as they are termed, where to the heterogeneous mass of eatables, crockery, and tin-ware, is added the more exciting articles of brandy, rum, gin, porter, wine, &c.; and where of an evening, amid fumes of every description, (from Yanky cheese to Virginia tobacco,) and dim smoky oil lamps, parties of soldiers, sailors, dingy-looking blacks, and unfortunate females​—​ay! and men of better rank of life, who ought to blush to be found in such places​—​love to congregate, and barter health and money, for dirty goblets of those fiery liquids.

When passing, in an evening, these store-houses for crime, they forcibly bring to my mind thoughts of Pandemonium. The dusky lamps, at one moment sending forth their long flaming tongues, the next, only serving to make darkness visible; the crowds of negroes, with their gleaming eyes and glittering teeth, presenting the appearance of so many attending demons; the groups of white soldiers or sailors, looking more pallid in the flickering lamp-light, and greedily quaffing the deleterious fluid, which, sooner or later, preys upon their very vitals​—​and then the various sounds of cursing and quarrelling, idiotic laughter, discordant singing, and incoherent talking, as the miserable frequenters arrive at the different stages of intoxication,​—​conspire to render it more like a council-chamber of tormented spirits, than the self-chosen place of amusement of rational creatures.

The next grade of these places of merchandise are, the merchants’ stores or warehouses, with their attached lumber-yards. These are, in most instances, large, dismal-looking buildings, whose unwashed rafters afford safe protection to innumerable spiders of every size, or present a desirable spot for the freemasons (the ichneumon bee) to erect their clayey dwellings upon. One corner of these vast emporiums is latticed off, forming a counting-house, decorated with a coat of white, green, or yellow paint, and shewing its chequers of red tape, for the purpose of sticking orders, letters, or bank-notices for payments, due at the Colonial or West India Bank. Here, on a high-legged stool, of dingy look, sits the merchant, dressed in his round, white jacket, snowy pantaloons, Panama or Paget hat; and, with pen in hand, and a pinch of Lundy-foot between his fingers, (to assist his ideas, I suppose,) calculates the probabilities of his ’specs, which in other days afforded such golden harvests as to give rise to the belief, that the streets in the West Indies were paved with doubloons and dollars.

But let it not be imagined that this worthy and numerous class employ all their business-hours in calculating their gains and losses, poring over the leaves of a dusty ledger, or puzzling their brains over their “bank accounts.” Oh! no, no​—​the Antiguan merchants are far too wise for that​—​many a bowl of “pepper-punch” is brewed; many a long cork of approved brand is drawn, and the “rosy red” Vin de Bordeaux is poured into the tendered crystal; and many a bottle of champagne, or “Tennent’s pale ale,” is unwired, uncorked, and its creamy excellence effused for them. Nor is the tongue idle; well-seasoned jests and brilliant repartees abound; news is discussed, wit flies like arrows, and many a rosy face grows more roseate, and many a laughing eye becomes dewy before they part.

But I must say something more about the stores​—​what a scene of confusion they present to the unaccustomed eye!​—​what varied and multiplied articles do they display! In one part are hogsheads of salt cod, herrings, and other salted fish; bins of Indian corn, rice, peas, and salt; flour, tobacco, barrels of blacking, and kegs of lard. In another part may be found barrels of beef and mess-pork; hogsheads of prime Cumberland hams, kits of ox tongues, and barrels of biscuits; sparkling Moselle, hock, seltzer-water, and lamp-oil; preserved meats and soups, and kegs of crackers; pitch, tar, rosin, and oats; block-tin tureens, spirits of turpentine, and Cognac brandy; crates of earthenware, rose nails, and hogsheads of tin-ware; with London pickles, agricultural implements, and hair-brooms. On another side of the store lie huddled together hogsheads of Barclay’s brown stout, boxes of soap, bundles of wood-hoops, and cases of gilded cornices; boxes of raisins and currants, paving flags, and masts and oars; firkins of Cork butter, hogsheads of lime, and patent corkscrews; Hyson teas, Durham mustard, loaf-sugar, and Havannah cigars; potatoes, onions, Bologna sausage, and blacksmiths’ coals; artificers’ tools, anti-corrosion paint, currycombs, and gold watches; the whole wound up with Rowland’s Macassar oil, floating soap, and quack medicines, consisting of Morrison’s pills, and Swain’s Panacea, which, if we believe the labels, are to cure every ill “that flesh is heir to;” while from the ceiling dangle in graceful negligence, coils of rope, and horses’ halters.

To prove to any of my readers who may be sceptical of the truth of such a various assemblage of goods, as I have stated the merchant’s stores contain, I will give a correct copy of a cargo handed about to the different merchants, as brought by an American vessel arrived to-day:—

CARGO ON BOARD BRIG “RANDOLPH,” FROM PHILADELPHIA.

Offers in cash, or negotiable notes, 1 o’clock.

From the store we will take a walk into the lumber yard. But before I proceed to describe it, it will be necessary for me to make another digression, and let those of my readers who may be yet ignorant of the real meaning of the term know what “lumber” is. Upon my first acquaintance with West Indians, I was particularly surprised to hear them talk so much about lumber, and of Mr. This and Mr. That dealing in such commodity. As my mind has ever been apt to roam far and wide, I no sooner heard the merits of this peculiar article (if I may so call it) discussed, than my schooldays’ tasks presented themselves to my recollection, and I mentally murmured with Dr. Johnson, “lum-ber, lumber, old useless furniture.”

Having arrived at this definition, again I fancied myself amid broken chairs and tables, sofas minus a leg, shattered looking-glasses, musty, dusty, rusty, grates, antique bottles, and similar chattels, where in one of my hoyden days I had scrambled to look for a bird-cage in which to imprison a poor half-fledged skylark, captured for me by a little ragged protégé of mine, known by the true English name of “Bill.”

Yet still I was not satisfied; for what, thought I, can West Indian merchants find so particularly valuable in all these divers specimens of mutilation, as to induce them to deal so largely in them? I could only answer mine own query by exclaiming “’tis strange! ’tis passing strange!” Time wore on, however, and I arrived at Antigua; then my wonder soon ceased, and I found out that in fact a lumber merchant signifies nothing less than a dealer in timber.

Having endeavoured to give the Antiguan definition of lumber, I will now proceed to describe “the yard.” It is generally entered by passing through the store, at the hazard of putting your foot into pools of rosin or varnish, slipping over stray peas, or half-breaking your neck over heaps of brickbats. At length the yard is gained, and drawing a long breath, as much from heat as exercise, I look around. On each side of the door are huge stacks of staves, piled up in a very uniform manner, used for making hogsheads or tierces for packing sugar, or puncheons for the conveyance of rum. In other parts of the yard are bundles of cypress or cedar shingles,^[69] white and pitch pine boards, planks and scantlings, all packed in appropriate order; that is, when they are not landing cargoes, and the master has an eye to tidy appearances; but if this is not the case, the different species of lumber are tumbling about in all directions.

Then there are large sheds erected in various parts of the yard, for the purpose of securing “hard-wood” (as mahogany, mill-timber, &c.) from the effects of the weather. There is also very generally a pigeon-house or two to be met with, and their pretty inmates may be seen gliding about, picking up the scattered grain, or, perched upon one of the lumber stacks, watch your every movement with their bright round eyes, while their variegated breasts glitter in the sun-beams like so many gems. At the bottom of the yard large gates open to the sea, furnished with a huge crane; and here it is that all those incongruous articles which fill their stores, and bring wealth to their coffers, are landed.

When the merchants are visited by certain fears and twitchings, relative to the fact of their not being able to dispose of their diversified merchandise, they “call an auction;” and under the auspices of the red flag,^[70] and with the assistance of the auctioneer’s lungs and hammer, instead of harlequin’s magic wand, turn all these “creature’s comforts” into pounds, shillings, and pence.

In some parts of the town are auction rooms, where, with the same laudable zeal for “charming variety,” things as distinct from each other as the nadir is from the zenith, are put up, the mysterious words “going, going, gone” uttered, and finally knocked down to the attendants​—​whites, blacks, and coloured.

Having mentioned the stores of those philanthropists, who, for the mere consideration of a little dirty pelf, undertake to provide so liberally for the inner man, it will be necessary to take a look at those temples of fashion, fancy, and fascination, commonly known in this island as “Scotch shops,” or in other words, Antiguan haberdashery stores.

In a particular part of St. John’s, running north and south, lies a well-made broad street, which, from being inhabited principally by Scotchmen, is known by the appropriated name of “Scotch Row.” Capital stores (when I am at Rome, I like to do as Rome does, and give everything its approved title) flank each side of the street, and display their glittering wares to the admiration of passers-by; and from whence (with but few exceptions) emanate those dresses and ribbons of a thousand dyes, with which the fair sex of every colour delight to enrobe their lovely forms.

Here, as in the merchants’ stores, may be found articles of the most opposite natures. In one part lies a delicate white satin bonnet, with its bunches of “orange flowers,” to grace the head of some blushing bride, or decorated with the snowy plumes torn by the swarthy African from some swift-footed ostrich; while by its side reposes a broken ewer, or an iron pot.

You may, in truth, buy anything and everything in these “Scotch shops,” from three farthings’ worth of tape to the most costly articles. Dresses of all kinds; ribbons, laces, flowers, and bonnets; coats, vests, pantaloons, umbrellas, and shoes; blondes, scarfs, mantelets, perfumery, and tenpenny nails; paint, frying-pans, and carpets; jewellery of every description, dripping-pans, and Seidlitz powders; Epsom salts, ginger-beer, and white lead; horses’ halters, cherry-tree chairs, and preserved fruits; children’s dresses, lanterns, horse-whips, and coffee; sugar-loaves, saddles, bonnet-shapes, and white-handled knives; ladies’ corsets, Valenciennes edging, and Westphalia hams; pigs’ tongues, truckle cheese, and bird-seed; dish-covers, bottle-baskets, hooks-and-eyes, and brimstone; harness, cattle medicines, and lozenges; “Mechian” razor strops, and Metcalf’s toothbrushes; with brandy, champagne, Madeira, sherry, port, sauterne, Rhenish wines, bottled stout, pale ale, glasses to drink all these good articles out of, and I know not what besides. Loaves of sugar dangling by the side of zephyr scarfs, or candle-boxes vis-à-vis with ostrich feathers.

Oh! ye tradesmen of Regent-street, so polite and perfumed, and such calibre, who stand behind your glossy counters with the air of “my lord duke,” or glide with noiseless steps and mincing airs over your Persian carpeted floor,​—​what, what would you think of our Antiguan shops? Or how would those over-fashionable gentlemen at Storr and Mortimer’s be astounded, when tendering for approval to “beauty bright” those costly gems which carry us back to the days of the Arabian nights, if they came in contact with a brass kettle or an iron pot!

I often wonder how the pale-faced, straight-haired clerks (for they are not termed shopmen in this part of the world) manage to get on among such a multiplicity of dissimilar articles; or that from being asked for so many contrary goods during the day, they do not make many and greater mistakes. A lady drives up in her carriage to the door of one of these labyrinthan depôts of vanity, and in that “low soft voice so sweet in woman,” asks to be shewn some orange flower chaplets, and essence of Frangipanier. The poor clerk, his brains turning round like a revolving light, flies to obey her commands; but lo! in his hurry and confusion, he catches up a frying-pan, and with streaming brow, presents the inelegant article to the lady’s astounded and horrified gaze, instead of the delicate perfume.

The master of these gay and changeful stores, is as diversiformed as his goods are various. In the morning he stands behind his counter, and “bows to” and “ma’am’s” any black member of the canaille that condescends to purchase a few yards of “half-a-bit” (2d. sterling) ribbon to sandal her mill-post ankle; while in the evening, in all the glories of white pantaloons, new coat, smart buttons and embroidered stock, he figures away at an aristocratic dinner party.

Times are indeed altered with these Scotchmen. In former years, when Sawney left his mountain home, his trouty lochs, and oaten bannocks, for the hot suns and debilitating climate of these “Isles of the West;” he did it for the sake alone of siller. As to ambition​—​faugh! he hated the very name, or else, like the cock in Esop’s fable, he spurned the glittering bauble, of which he knew not the worth. They plodded on from year to year, increased their stock of goods, and added many a round dollar to their worldly wealth, and then sat down contentedly to enjoy the smoky flavour of their usquebaugh, forming no greater acquaintance with the governor, than as they saw him proceed to the court-house in discharge of his high office, or knowing no more of government-house than the outer appearance.

But the Scotchmen of the present day scorn the lowly ideas of their predecessors. They ape the man of fashion, call their haberdashery store a merchant’s warehouse, and foregoing the vulgar title of draper, take to themselves the loftier name of merchant. Nor is this all. They attend the governor’s levees, play the amiable at a quadrille party, frequent the billiard table, or perchance take wine with his excellency, and grin and bow with approved precision. Their shops prove an agreeable morning lounge for the superiors of the island, and in a glass of sangaree, or a flowing bowl of pepper-punch, the difference of grade between the entertainer and the entertained is overlooked.

That “there is no rule without an exception,” is a true apophthegm; and among the many emigrants from the “land o’ cakes,” some very respectable individuals are to be met with.

I believe it a correct statement to assert, that “Scotch Row” begins with one of this superior class, and ends with him who has been called “The father of the Scotchmen,” not from his age, but from his high conduct.

Mr. H——— is a man in whom great urbanity is blended with strong determination of character. He possesses varied talents, and is no mean disciple of St. Cecilia’s; and although, perhaps, not altogether ranking among the literati in the fuller sense of that term, yet he

“——laughing can instruct Much has he read,
Much more has seen: he studied from the life,
And in the original perused mankind.”

Philosophy to him, however, is no gloomy subject; no solemn stalking about wrapt up in his own stately ideas, and scorning, with cynic’s eye, any harmless mirth. In the words of one of Britain’s poets, I may say of him—

“——nor purpose gay,
Amusement, dance or song, he sternly scorns.”

Nature seems to have intended him for a higher occupation, than to stand behind a counter and sell a few yards of tape, or a paper of pins.

The streets of the capital have all their proper appellations, although no painted board announces such a fact to the traveller. The east and west streets, beginning southerly, are​—​South-street, Tanner, Nevis, Ratcliff, St. Mary’s, High, Long, Church, Newgate, Wapping, North, Bishopsgate, St. John’s, St. George’s; north and south streets, beginning easterly, are​—​East-street, Cross, Church-lane, Temple, Steeple-street, Corn, Market, Friendly-alley, Gutter-lane, Newgate-lane, Popeshead, Thames, Coney-Warren-lane, Subscription-alley, Craw-lane, Wilkinson’s-street, and Mariner’s-lane. Some of these lanes and alleys are famous for their grog-shops, particularly that establishment known by the appropriate name of “The Hole-in-the-Wall,” for the only entrance is a low arched door-way scooped out of its massy walls.

One part of the town bears the somewhat lofty title of “The Parade.” In former years it answered as a kind of exchange, where the merchants congregated together during “’Change hours,” and discussed the business of the commercial world. Cargoes of all descriptions were here disposed of; dollars and doubloons in one moment changed owners, and human flesh and blood was openly bartered. For a long period, however, the Parade visibly declined in importance, and became but the shadow of itself; but within these last few years, it has, phœnix like, sprung up with renewed vigour, and presents to the passenger’s eye many good and bustling stores.

St. John’s has, at various times, suffered severely from conflagrations​—​a circumstance not to be wondered at, when we consider the great number of wooden buildings, and the carelessness of persons in throwing about particles of fire. In 1769, an accident of this nature occurred, which was most direful in its consequence. It arose from the negligence of a woman who was employed in ironing, and who omitted to extinguish the fire in a coal-pot, after finishing her labours.

It may be necessary, perhaps, for the comprehension of some of my readers who may not be conversant with West Indian domestic subjects, to mention more fully the construction of a coal-pot. In some of the islands these utensils are composed of clay, moulded into the form of buckets, and baked in a moderate fire; but the Antiguan coal-pot is nothing more nor less than a deal box, clamped with iron or tin, and lined with bricks plastered over. A few pieces of old iron hoop are placed horizontally across the box at stated intervals about halfway from the bottom, and upon these is placed a layer of charcoal. The irons are arranged upon the top, and the coals ignited; no bellows are used, except what Nature has afforded in the owners’ own lungs; or when their breath fails, and the fuel still proves refractory, their large straw hat is displaced from their heads, and brandished before the mouths of their little stoves, with sundry ejaculations of “Eh! eh! war do de co-als to-day, me b’lieve dem no want to burney.”

But to return to the fire in 1769; it burnt with fearful rapidity. The gaol, custom-house, indeed nearly the whole town, fell a prey to the destructive element, 260 houses being levelled with the ground, and some of the finest stores and richest merchandise destroyed. Government granted 1000l. for the relief of the sufferers; and their kind friends in Liverpool collected, during the following year, the sum of 346l. 2s. 6d., which was thankfully and gratefully received.

Many other fires have occurred since then, the vestiges of which remain to this day; one in particular, known by the appropriate name of the burnt wall, is still pointed out to the notice of the stranger. Part of this land has been lately purchased by the Wesleyans, who have erected a small chapel upon it, which answers also for a school-room, and where preaching is held on Friday evenings.

But the conflagration which happened on the 2nd April, 1841, has effaced the memory of all other events of the same nature. It broke out in the house of a person carrying on the business of a straw bonnet-maker, after the family had retired to rest, and it was only discovered in time for the inmates to make their escape by jumping from the upper windows.

A few moments after it was first perceived, the walls fell, and the flames burst forth with a fearful rapidity, curling and twisting themselves in all directions; seizing upon every thing within their reach, and illuminating the heavens with their awfully grand lustre. The church bell tolled forth its solemn warning; drums beat an alarm; and, in the words of an old writer, when describing the fire in London in 1666, “dreadful screams disturbed the midnight quiet, and raised the affrighted people from their beds, who, scarce awake, all seemed to be a dream. Each one appeared but as a moving statue, as once Lot’s wife, viewing her flaming Sodom, was transformed into a pillar.”

So saith “Samuel Wiseman,” and his graphic description answers equally for the fire of Antigua, as it did in yore, for that of London.

House after house, store after store, fell beneath the raging element; or, when built of stone, only their bare and blackened walls were left standing. No sooner was one house on fire, than the flames were pouring into the windows of the next; scathing the trees as they passed, dismantling them of their verdure, and leaving them only a seared and withered trunk. Again the Custom House fell a victim, and to this cause many deficiencies in the statistical part of this work may be attributed; for, from the suddenness and violence of the fire, many valuable records were lost.

Still the fiery deluge rolled on,​—​at one moment the sky was almost hidden by the dense masses of smoke; at another, bright spiral lines of flame shot up into the air, and cast a lurid light on all around. I am sorry to record it, but the negro-men behaved very ill, refusing to lend assistance, (in most instances,) but employing their time in plundering from the sufferers. To the glory of the women, be it spoken, they did not follow the example of their kinsmen, but cheerfully and firmly laboured through that awful night. The crew of two French ships of war, which chanced to be lying in the harbour, also assisted, aided by the sailors from the English and island vessels; and the gentlemen of the town, headed by the lieutenant-governor, Major McPhail, (who flew to the scene of danger stockingless and almost slipperless,) worked with undaunted courage and good-will; and by dint of energy, and pulling down several small houses, so as to make room for the flames in their gyral evolutions, at length succeeded in gaining the mastery over their formidable enemy.

But, alas! when morning came, and threw a steady light upon the picture, what a melancholy sight was presented to the view. A long line of building, including the best and finest houses, entirely destroyed; lumber-yards and warehouses despoiled of their goods, and the very streets strewed ankle-deep with burnt salt-fish, peas, rice, flour, and similar articles! In some parts might be seen groups of negroes carousing around some gutted dwelling, tearing out the burning provisions, and, amid all this desolation and the mournful feelings of men, who, in one short night, had lost that for which they had toiled for years, shouting forth from their stentorian lungs snatches of some bacchanalian song, or allowing their vacant heartless laugh to vibrate painfully upon the silent morning air.

Ever and anon, the smouldering fire sent up some fitful glare; or a brilliant coruscation of sparks, shot forth from some still burning log of pitch-pine, gilded the surrounding scene with their beautiful but dangerous showers. The fire burnt down to the sea-side; seizing upon the very timber of the wharfs and cranes, and destroying them to the water’s edge. The amount of damage has been estimated at 250,000l. sterling; but the loss is more than can be calculated, for it has despoiled and depopulated one of the finest and busiest streets in the town, and which, from the depressed state of trade, will be long, very long, before it is again rebuilt.

More than eight months have silently rolled by since that awful cry of “Fire” awoke the Antiguans from their tranquil slumbers, and sent a thrill of dismay through the hearts of all. And there stand the ruins, blackened and cracked by the intense heat which caused the very glass to pour down in streams, which, when congealed, appeared like icicles; or else, only shewing by the open space, where the ill-fated dwellings stood​—​where the voice of happy infancy once uttered many a jocund shout​—​or where the soft full tone of riper years carolled many a light and gladsome lay. Long grass and luxuriant weeds have already grown up in the spot once dedicated to business or pleasure, and the bat and the lizard have made it their own.

CHAPTER XIX.

Description of the church of St John’s​—​Period of its erection​—​Present site​—​Panoramic views​—​Form of structure​—​Length and breadth​—​Interior​—​Decorations​—​Monuments​—​Organ​—​Tower​—​Bells​—​Clock​—​Churchyard​—​Tombs and sepulchral inscriptions​—​An acrostic​—​“Adam and Eve!”

The first place of public worship erected in St. John’s was the parochial church, commenced in 1683-4. It was a small wooden building, standing about sixty yards further to the south than the present church; and, if we are to believe an old writer, totally destitute of beauty or comfort. During the administration of Gen. Walter Hamilton, it was found to be in such a dilapidated state, that in 1716 the necessity of erecting a new church was submitted to the legislature; and with the concurrence of the members of that body, an act was passed the same year, granting a provision for building a new place of worship, (to be dedicated to St. John,) and imposing a yearly tax for the purpose of keeping the said church in repair. It was not, however, until between the years 1721 and 1723, during the period that John Hart was administrating the government of these islands, that the erection of the church was commenced. Mr. Robert Cullen was the architect, and by his suggestions, its site was laid to the north of the old building; thus occupying the very spot where the militia were stationed in 1710, when ordered to fire upon Governor Park, in that unhappy difference between him and the country, and which ended so fatally to himself.

The present parochial church is pleasantly situated upon an ascent, at the head of the town, and commands from every side a wide and beautiful view of the surrounding country. From the west door, the eye ranges over the bustling town, with its motley groups of passengers​—​dwells for a time upon the long line of ruined buildings destroyed by the fire already described​—​scans the lovely harbour, with its graceful shipping, the interesting bay of the Five Islands on the one side, and, on the other, a long line of cocoa-nut trees and brilliant sand, bespeaking the situation of Dickenson’s Bay​—​and then roves on to the offing, where a large extent of ocean of the sweetest blue stretches out; and where, perhaps, a far-off sail may be seen, which looks in the distance like the white wing of some passing gull.

From the south door, another beautiful and panoramic view may be obtained, particularly towards the close of the day, when the sun has almost completed his daily journey, and, shorn of his fervent beams, throws on every cloud his myriad dyes. The part of the town then presented to the gaze of the beholder slopes by a gradual descent towards the suburbs, bounded by Otto’s Hill (an estate belonging to the representatives of Bastien Baijer) and the surrounding country. At the extent of the horizon runs a long range of mountains​—​the more distant ones presenting a greyish, gloomy colour, while others have their tops irradiated with a brilliant fringe of gold or purple, as the different clouds appear to rest upon them. Of this chain, the declivities of which afford every species of beauty, and every gradation of varying green, the lower ones are generally in a state of cultivation; and their undulating surface presents in some places groups of lovely trees, or breaks into patches of sugar-canes, clusters of negro-huts, and sugar-mills.

The church itself, which is built of brick, washed of a light yellow, is cruciform; the north and south vestibules forming the arms of the cross. The extreme length, from the inner west door to the altar-piece, is 130 feet; and the breadth, exclusive of the vestibules, (or porches,) is 50 feet. In the interior, eighteen plain wooden pillars divide the nave from the north and south aisles; the sixteen lower ones forming the support to the north and south galleries. The roof of the nave is a semicircular vault, painted to represent the heavens, with all their drapery of light and fleecy clouds; and when viewed from the west door, has a very pretty effect.

The chancel roof is of the same pitch, but of a pyramidal form; it is painted in the same manner as the nave, and is supported by four square fluted columns.

The altar is very beautifully devised. In the centre are the tables of the ten commandments, gold-lettered upon a black ground. On each side are full-length paintings of Moses, and of Aaron, in his “holy garments.” That of Aaron is very finely executed; the face is such as we can imagine that of the great “high-priest” to have been, majestic, but beautiful; and the “robes,” the “breast-plate,” the “ephod,” the “curious girdle,” and the “golden censer,” are very correctly painted. The outer tables of “The Belief” and “Lord’s Prayer” are handsomely gilded​—​the inscription being executed in letters of black; and over the commandments, in the centre of the altar, is a medallion painting of cherubs. The several compartments are divided by gilded pilasters; the cornices, architraves, and friezes, are very pretty and tasteful; and in the inter-columniations are one or two triglyphs.

The communion-table is covered with dark purple velvet, fringed deeply with gold; and on either end lie cushions to match. The communion-service plate is very handsome; the large salver, measuring eighteen inches in diameter, was presented to the church by John Otto Baijer, Esq., about the year 1724. It displays a representation of the “Lord’s Supper,” the figures in beautiful basso-relievo, and bears the following inscription:—

Donum Domini Johannis Otto Baijer
Ad Templum Divi Johannis Antigua.

The two smaller salvers and the cup are inscribed as follows:—

In usum Templi Divi Johannis in Antigua
Gulielmus Jones Parochialis hujus olim Rector
Donum Dedit.

Besides the communion-plate, the table supports a pair of tall silver lamps, with ground-glass burners, bearing the inscription—

Donum Domini Petre Lee ad Templum Divi
Johannis in Antigua.

And on each side of the table stand quaint-looking chairs, for the accommodation of the bishop and archdeacon, which have been used for that purpose since the dismantling of the “Bishop’s Pew.”

The pulpit and desk are of dark oak, as also the railings to the stairs; and, like the communion-table, have each their drapery and cushions of dark purple, with deep gold fringe and tassels, and the “I. H. S.” encircled with its golden rays. Formerly the pulpit, surmounted by a sounding-board, stood further down the nave; but after being removed once or twice, the desk has been separated from the pulpit, and they are placed at the entrance of the chancel, on each side the aisle.

About the centre of the church is suspended a brass chandelier, consisting of ten branches, which have been lately fitted up with ground-glass burners; it was a gift (by will, 2nd May, 1740) to the church, from Phillip Darby, an old inhabitant of Antigua, and rector of St. John’s.

At the entrance of the church from the north vestibule stands a small marble font, of a semi-spherical form, ornamented with four heads of cherubs, and supported by a corniform pedestal. It is intended to be placed at the extreme end of the middle aisle, immediately before the west entrance, and opposite the altar​—​a site far more applicable for it than where it now stands.

The church is lighted by fourteen windows: six in the north aisle, six in the south aisle, and two in the east end of the building. Formerly they were all fitted up with jalousies; but within these last few years, the eight nearest the altar have been reglazed with ground glass, arranged in a Gothic pattern. These windows are divided into six compartments; and are so contrived, that, by aid of a turnscrew, they can be opened to a certain height. They certainly add to the beauty of the edifice, but deteriorate from its comfort by rendering it warmer than it otherwise would be: a circumstance not desirable in this fervid climate.

Several fine monuments grace the walls of this sacred building; but the oldest sepulchral inscription is upon a stone slab, in the chancel, to the memory of Mrs. Gilbert, wife of Mr. Gilbert, who introduced methodism^[71] in Antigua, and who died in 1747.

In the south aisle are the following monuments:—

An elegant mural monument of white marble upon a black ground, erected to the memory of Mrs. Elizabeth Ottley, wife of Richard Ottley, Esq., and daughter of Ashton Warner, speaker of the house of assembly in 1716. The ornamental part of this monument consists of the figure of a seraph with outspread wings, leaning upon a sepulchral urn, bearing a coronal of undying laurel leaves in its right hand; and in its left an inverted torch, partly extinguished, emblematical of the uncertainty of human life. The inscription is as follows:—

“Near to this place is laid, with the remains of her honoured parents, the body of Elizabeth, the pious, amiable, and much-beloved wife of Richard Ottley; who departed this life, in the Island of St Vincent, on Thursday, 28th August, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and sixty-six, in the thirty-second year of her age.

“She was the daughter of Ashton Warner, Esq.,^[72] Attorney-General of Antigua, by Elizabeth, his wife, and was born the 7th June, 1735, O.S.; married 25th October, in the year 1753, and left issue surviving her, one son and three daughters​—​viz., Drewry, Elizabeth, Mary Trant, and Alice.

“She possessed a graceful person, an excellent understanding, and a sweetness of disposition that engaged the esteem of all that knew her, and performed with so much complacency the several duties in her family, and those of a good friend and neighbour, that it may be truly said she died universally lamented, and a real loss to that infant colony. Her inconsolable husband (in whose arms she expired, after bearing with admirable fortitude and resignation the excruciating pains of a long and difficult labour) caused this monument to be erected to her memory.

“The son with whom she died reclines upon that breast which would have nourished him had the Almighty so permitted.”

A very chaste and elegant white marble tablet, forming a Gothic arch, erected to the memory of the Honourable Sam. Otto Baijer, a descendant of Bastien Baijer, who signed the capitulation in 1666, bearing the following inscription:—

As a last mournful token of affection,
This Tablet is erected by
Elizabeth Mary Otto Baijer,
To the memory of her beloved Father,
The Honourable Samuel Otto Baijer,
Of Pares Estate, in this Island;
Who died at Philadelphia
On the 20th of December, 1835,
Aged 54 years.

Also to the memory of her Mother,
Elizabeth Mary Otto Baijer,
Who died in 1813, at Dove Hall,
In the Island of Jamaica,
In the 27th year of her age.

Also to the memory of her Brother,
Rowland Archibald Otto Baijer,
Son of the above-named
Samuel Otto Baijer and Mary Elizabeth his Wife,
Who died at Pares Estate, in this Island,
On the 24th of November, 1837,
Aged 25 years and 8 months,
And whose remains repose near this spot.

A small, unpretending marble tablet:—

Sacred
To the Memory of
Elizabeth Jane Harman,
Who died on the 16th April, A.D. 1828,
Aged 21 years.
“We have this treasure in earthen vessels.”

A pyramidal monument, supported by fluted pillars, and bearing a small sarcophagus, surmounted by two figures of children or cherubs, holding in their hands a scroll, on which is written texts from Scripture. The inscription is as follows:—

“Supported only by a meek obedience to the decrees of Eternal Wisdom, and a firm trust in the Atonement of a gracious Redeemer, William and Ruth Atkinson, once inhabitants of Antigua, and now of Dominica, as an inadequate evidence of their intense and aggravated anguish for the poignant and crushing trial they have undergone in the loss of both their children, pay this melancholy tribute, when advancing into manly, lively virtue, such as fills the parents’ soul with solid comfort.

“George Atkinson, their first and last spared hope, had nearly reached his twelfth year. This blooming prop of their declining age​—​when, by a mild and artless truth, joined to innate goodness and suavity of temper, he had irresistibly won the esteem and love of all​—​quitted this life without a struggle on Sunday, 5th Dec. 1779.

“William Atkinson, their youngest, died in infancy.

What poets paint, what marbles feebly tell,
  Defective far are all;
Such woes are only to be known
  To real feeling souls.
Where equal growing filial worth’s bewail’d,
The name of Son thus lost, all consolation fail’d.
1782.”^[73]

A small tablet, representing a white scroll upon a black ground, surmounted by a laurel chaplet, bearing inscription:

In memory of
Auther Teagle,
Who departed this life
On the 20th November, 1839,
Aged 43 years.
“Thy will be done.”

In the north aisle are four monuments; the first, beginning from the east, erected to a late curate of St. John’s. It consists of a white marble tablet, and above, the figure of an angel soaring upwards, and encompassed with clouds. The tablet bears the following inscription:—

To the memory of
The Rev. William Thomas Bernard, A.B.,
Of Trinity College, Dublin,
Late curate of this parish,
Where, after a short residence of four months,
In the faithful exercise of his ministry, and
The manifestation of much private worth,
He died of fever, Nov. 2nd, 1835,
In the 26th year of his age,
Most deeply and generally regretted,
This tribute of esteem and affection
Is erected,
Partly by his much afflicted Sister,
Ellen M. Baily,
And partly by the Right Rev. William Hart Coleridge, D.D.,
Lord Bishop of this diocese,
The clergy of Antigua, and other friends in the
Island, who mourn his early loss.

Beneath the tablet are his coat of arms, with the motto—

“Bear and Forbear.”

A white marble monument, with a deep border of variegated brown marble, to the memory of a descendant of Sir Thomas Warner. The ornamental part consists of a female figure enveloped in widow-like drapery, and leaning upon an urn. The inscription is as follows:—

This monument
Is erected to the memory of
The Honourable William Warner, Esq.,
Who was a member of His Majesty’s Council,
And Treasurer of this Island.
Honourable by his office of Counsellor,
But
More honourable as a man:
For if
Virtue alone is true nobility,
And if justice, moderation, temperance, meekness,
Consummate honesty, charity, generosity, and
Conjugal affection, are virtues that are held in any estimation
Among men,
This man,
Who lived in the exercise of them all
Was truly honourable.
He died on Friday, 11 October, 1771, in the forty-third year of his age,
Universally regretted, and lamented by all orders and degrees among
Us.
To commemorate her anguish for his loss, and as a public
Testimony of her love and duty, his disconsolate widow hath
Caused this memorial to be raised.
Gloria in excelsis Deo!

A very elegantly designed white pyramidal monument erected to the memory of an only child. A chastely sculptured female figure leans upon a “storied urn,” with a beautifully chiselled wreath of flowers thrown around her. This monument has been unfortunately injured, one of the hands and part of the arm of the figure being broken off.

In memory of her only and beloved daughter,
Sarah Kelsick,
Wife of Mr. John Kelsick, merchant in Antigua,
Who died on 20th day of March, 1785,
In the 19th year of her age.
This monument was erected by her disconsolate mother,
Sarah Eccleston,
Wife of Isaac Eccleston, Esq.,
1792.
From the parent, the husband, the friend,
Her social and amiable virtues
Claim the tribute of affliction,
And though early cut off,
She must ever live in the memory of those
Who had the happiness of her acquaintance.
Vivit post funera virtus.

The next is an elaborate and splendid monument, erected by the country to the memory of Ralph Lord Lavington; and however peculiar the taste which dictated the design, the execution, at least, possesses merit. The top figure represents his lordship in a sitting posture, habited in the old court dress, and his plumed hat lying at his feet. The inscription is traced upon a light grey marble, hollowed out so as to allow of the insertion of a small sarcophagus, bearing his coat of arms, with a beautifully-executed branch of oak-leaves thrown across it.

Two female figures recline on each side; the one on the left hand, representing Astrea with her scales by her side, and the hilt of the sword of justice, very minutely and beautifully sculptured, protruding from behind the sarcophagus; her finely-formed and classic face is up-turned towards the old lord. In the other figure we behold the genius of the island, mourning for the loss of a favourite governor. She holds in her right hand a scroll, upon which is inscribed​—​“Resolved, that a monument be erected to his memory,” while with her left hand she shades her features as if in deep grief. At the feet of these figures rolls the sea, the waves, surmounted with their foam, very well executed. This costly monument bears the following inscription:—

Sacred
To the memory of
Ralph Payne Lord Lavington,
Of the kingdom of Ireland,
One of His Majesty’s most honourable Privy Council,
Knight of the most honourable Order of the Bath,
and Captain-general, and Commander-in-chief of
The Leeward Islands.

Upon the base of the monument is the following brief biographical inscription:—

“He was born in the Island of St. Christopher’s, of an English family, distinguished for its loyalty and public spirit. His education he received in England, and it prepared him for the distinctions which awaited his return to his native isle, when he was elected a member of the House of Assembly, and on its first meeting unanimously called to the chair of the House, in which high situation he gave an early display of those superior talents and eminent qualifications which afterwards secured him the confidence of his king, and the esteem of his country. On his return to England in 1762, he was elected a member of the House of Commons for the borough of Plympton, Devonshire; and from his perfect knowledge of colonial affairs, he was appointed in 1771​—​a period of national interest​—​to be captain-general and commander-in-chief of the Leeward Islands, at which time he was also invested with the most honourable Order of the Bath. He remained in the exercise of his government until 1774, when he returned to England, and was appointed a member of the Board of Green Cloth. During the period of his residence in England, he sat in five parliaments, and in 1795, his Majesty was graciously pleased to raise him to the dignity of a peer in Ireland, by the style and title of Baron Lavington of Lavington. In 1799, he was sworn one of his Majesty’s most honourable Privy Council, and again appointed to the chief command of the Leeward Islands, in the wise and able administration of which important trust he passed his latter years

And closed his venerable life.
This nobleman
Was revered for his public qualities,
As he was beloved for his private virtues.
He blended the dignity of his high office with the affability of his disposition and the gracefulness of his manners,
And at once commanded the respect, and conciliated the affections of all ranks of people
Within the circle of his government
As a sincere and lasting testimony of their veneration and regret,
The Legislature of Antigua
Have erected this monument
He died at the Government House of this Island, on the 3rd day of Aug. 1807, aged 68; and was interred at his own estate, called Carlisles.”

The whole of this very handsome monument is enclosed in an arch of plain black marble. I should have mentioned that the ornamental parts of this tomb are all in pure white marble.

The remaining monument is erected to the memory of Mrs. Musgrave, who was unfortunately thrown out of her carriage (the horse becoming restive and breaking the shafts) and killed upon the spot. This unhappy catastrophe occurred in one of the streets of St. John’s, and a representation of the event, absurd as it may seem, is sculptured upon the monument (which is of white marble) in basso-relievo. In the background is the animal, apparently of the cart-horse breed, scampering away with the broken shafts and traces hanging around him; in the foreground, is the figure of a man, kneeling and supporting in his arms a female, whose listless posture portrays the dire event. The face of the female is well executed, the features expressing acute suffering, while they tell the hand of death is upon them; but the figure is execrable in its proportions, the hand and arm being quite as large as the leg and foot of the man, if not larger. The inscription is as follows:—

“No warning given! unceremonious fate!
A sudden rush from life’s meridian joys!
A wrench from all she loved.”^[74]
Sacred to the memory
of
Eliza Musgrave,
Wife of William Musgrave, Esq.,
Of the Inner Temple, barrister-at-law.
She departed this life
On the morning of the 12th Feb., 1815,
Aged 24 years,
Beloved and lamented by all who knew her.
Her God she reverenced;
Towards her neighbours she never wilfully offended;
To her husband she was everything
His fondest wishes could picture or embrace.
He idolized her while she lived,
And his respect for her exalted worth
Survives beyond the grave.
The remembrance of her many virtues
Remains indelibly inscribed
In his dejected bosom.

“Friends, our chief treasure, how they drop!
How the world falls to pieces round about us!
And leaves us in the ruin of our joy!
What says this transportation of my friends?
It bids me love the place where now they dwell,
And scorn this wretched spot it leaves so poor.”^[75]

The aisles of the church are paved with a coarse species of marble, laid down in alternate diamonds of black and white. The chancel is raised by two steps, and has a stone pavement. The body of the church contains 152 pews, but with the assistance of the galleries, of which there are three, affords about 1800 sittings. The governor’s pew is very neatly fitted up with crimson damask, and contains some gaily coloured ottomans; over the pew are the royal arms of England. Service is performed in the church on Sundays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; and our exemplary rector, with true Christian indefatigability, administers the sacrament monthly, at eight in the morning, and after the usual morning service.

The organ with which the church is furnished, was erected (partly by subscription) in 1760, at the cost of 450l. sterling, the vestry making up what was wanting. It is still a very fine instrument, and our talented and respected organist, G. Hart, Esq., fully recompenses us for any defects it may labour under by his inimitable execution.^[76]

At the west end of the nave rises a plain quadrangular tower, surmounted by an octagonal cupola. The elevation to the apex of the cupola is sixty-five feet; the altitude of the tower itself is fifty feet. This tower was not erected until 1789, some years after the parent church, but from being constructed of the same materials, presents a uniform appearance; the cupola is built of wood, the perpendicular compartments being jalousied. John Delap Halliday, Esq. gave 500l. towards its erection.^[77]

Within these last few months, two windows have been pierced at the east side of the tower, in the small chamber where the works of the clock are placed. These were made at the suggestion of Mr. Jones, the keeper of the clock, and which prove very beneficial to him when inspecting and cleaning that necessary appurtenance. Before that period this chamber was perfectly dark, which not only rendered the air within it extremely damp, but presented an obstacle to the due regulation of the instrument contained in it; for candles are but a sorry substitute for the clear light of day when employed in such delicate business as rectifying the machinery of a horologe. Under the care of Mr. Jones the works are kept beautifully clean, which of course will produce a good effect. This instrument was the gift of John Delap Halliday, (as may be seen by the inscription upon the works,) of Antigua, and the maker of it Charles Penton, London, 1788. The windows are glazed, and present exactly the same appearance as those to be found in the suburban dwelling-houses around that mighty metropolis, London.

The tower contains two bells; the tenor one inscribed​—​“Edmund Powell, Golden Grove, 1684,” and was kept for the use of the coloured classes in other days. The large bell was presented to the church by John Delap, (before he assumed the name of Halliday,) Esq., 1788. It bore the following inscription:—​“The gift of John Delap, Esq. The Rev. James Lindsey, rector; Thomas Hanson Halloran, and Daniel Hill, churchwardens. Charles Penton, London, fecit. John Warner, founder, of London, 1788.” It was taken down the 11th of February, 1840, on account of a serious injury beyond repair, shipped for London on board the “Antigua Packet,” and exchanged for a new one of the same size, which now serves to call the people to church, and to speak the demise of the inhabitants; but it is silent at a wedding, for in this country no merry peal of bells announces that event which elsewhere is ever the signal for joy and festivity.

Having attempted the description of the church, I will now proceed to mention the churchyard, which lies upon a gentle slope, and contains numerous tombs, with their iron or wooden railings. The most beautiful tomb in the ground was erected to the memory of the Honourable Otto Baijer, by his widow, who afterwards died on her passage to England in 1726. Her remains were brought back to Antigua, and now repose by the side of her loved husband. It is of pure white marble, although stained by exposure to the weather, and is elegantly ornamented with various fruits and flowers in basso-relievo.

The oldest sepulchral monuments, of which I could make out the inscriptions, are to the memory of Troughton, 1704; Col. Philip Lee. 1704;^[78] Capt. Bastien Baijer, 1715; Thos. Oasterman, Esq., 1724; Frederic Cope, 1739; and Mrs. Warner, the wife of Ashton Warner, Esq., 1748.

The inscription upon the tomb of Frederic Cope demands, however, further mention. It is an acrostic; the poetry I leave to the judgment of my readers.

THE INSCRIPTION.

“F ar removed from every human eye he is,
 R egardless now of earth, partakes of heaven’s bliss;
 E xalted was his lively soul whilst here below,
 D elighted ever tender friendships for to show;
 E asy and cheerful through every scene of Life;
 R eady to forgive all; but unto me, his wife,
 I ndulgent to the last degree, for ever kind—
 C alm was his spirit, virtuous was his mind.

 C areful he ever was to take no bribe in Law;
 O h! full, full well the abject hate of mortals saw.
 P artial he never was, just to each man’s fame,
 E ach initial letter will now declare his name.”

He was born in London, of honest parents, on the 21st day of May, 1711, and died, in Antigua, on the 8th ———, 1739.

A fine large marble tomb, to the memory of the Honourable Ashton Warner, who died 11th of February, 1762, stands near to this very original sepulchral acrostic; and at no great distance a single stone to the memory of some admiral (the inscription obliterated) with its anchors and flags, and escutcheons.

On the east side of the north vestibule stands the tomb of Major-general George W. Ramsey, governor-in-chief of Antigua, Monserrat, and Barbados, in 1816, who departed this life, November 1st, 1819, in the 58th year of his age. The iron railing has become rusted and bent,^[79] and the tomb bears many a blackened mark.

Near to the last resting-place of governor Ramsey, stands another very handsome tomb of white marble, erected to that well-known and eccentric character, Patrick Kirwan. He was a native of Galway, and as true an Irishman as ever handled a shillelah, or vowed devotion to “the shamrock so green.” Mr. Kirwan resided in Antigua for many years, as a planter and proprietor of estates, where his “bulls and blunders” are still remembered and repeated with delight. Upon one occasion he sent for a sun-dial from England, which he intended to have erected near his dwelling; but upon its arrival, it looked so smart with its golden rays and gnomen, that “Pat” pronounced it the very height of profanation to have such a pretty “cratur” exposed to the relentless shafts of master Sol; and so to preserve its beauty, and keep all secure, he had a tight snug shed built over it, which eventually forbid the entrance of any straggling sunbeam which might feel inclined to call upon it, to learn the hour. Poor Mr. Kirwan! his Irish blood was always leading him to commit blunders, which were sure to raise a laugh at his expense. During a partial rebellion of the negroes, at a period when he was manager of an estate, a few miles from the capital, he one morning presented himself before the proprietor with a very flushed face, and excited mien​—​“Good morning, Mr. Kirwan,” said his employer. “What brings you to town so suddenly​—​you look alarmed, I hope nothing is the matter?” “Faith, an there is though!” retorted the Irishman, “and if the blessed St. Patrick himself had been here, he would have looked alarmed too. Why, there’s a perfect resurrection of the negroes upon your estate!” “A what?” inquired the surprised proprietor. “A perfect resurrection,” repeated Pat, “and I have come to ask you what I must do?” His employer could scarcely repress a smile at this strange intelligence. At length, however, he summoned gravity enough to reply, “If that’s the case, Mr. Kirwan, the best advice I can give you is, to put a hoe into their hands as fast as they rise, and set them to work immediately.”

But with all his “bulls and blunders,” Mr. Kirwan was deservedly respected, and his death universally regretted. He died in 1819, in the 66th year of his age. The inscription upon his monument informs us “By his direction this tomb was erected.”

At the entrance of the east gate is a mural stone monument, erected to the memory of James Cullen, by his brother Robert Cullen. This monument is pointed out to strangers on account of the peculiarity of its form, with the assertion that the person who built the church is buried there, and that the coffin is obliged to stand in a perpendicular position. This, however, is not correct; the monument certainly stands there, but the place where the body is entombed is 23 feet further to the west; and instead of being raised to the memory of the architect of the church, that individual erected it to perpetuate the memory of his brother. This fact is engraven upon the monument; but so unexploring are the Antiguans in general, that I think but few of the inhabitants are aware of the real truth, but still think the coffin stands upright.

This strange practice of putting up the grave-stone at a distance from the grave is not the only instance of the kind to be met in the churchyard of St. John’s. At one of the west gates lies a stone slab, to the memory of the late organist; and upon reading the inscription, I supposed that the body reposed beneath. But not so: that lies far away, with “not a stone to mark the place.” Upon asking a pew-opener the reason for placing the slab in that situation, his reply was, “It does so nicely, you know, for the people to walk on, and looks well.”

The churchyard is entered by five iron gates, of handsome patterns. At the north, a flight of stone steps leads up to the church, while from the south gate, the building is approached by an easy and gradual ascent, paved with brick. The pillars of the south gate are surmounted by stone figures, representing St. John the Baptist, and St. John the Evangelist. These figures were intended to receive the vows of the good catholics at Dominica; but as it happened to be war time, when they took their departure from “la belle France,” on their passage they fell in with an English man-of-war, who most unceremoniously took them into keeping, and brought them to Antigua; where, by universal consent, they were placed as sentinels in their present position, instead of being decked out in gold and silver leaf, and mock jewels. The negroes, however, refuse to recognise them by their own titles, but have unanimously dubbed them “Adam and Eve”​—​the Baptist, I suppose, playing the part of the lady, as his garments are longer and more voluminous than those of his companion.

CHAPTER XX.

Court-house​—​Bazaar​—​Arsenal​—​Police-office​—​Government-house​—​Barracks​—​House of correction​—​Gaol​—​Methodist chapel​—​Methodism, its rise and progress in Antigua​—​Moravian chapel​—​Rise and progress of the Society of United Brethren​—​Scotch kirk.

After the church and churchyard of St. John’s, the next public building which calls for attention is the court house. This, as before stated, was erected in 1747, William Lowry being the mason, and Duncan Grant the carpenter. Who these worthies were I know not; but a glance at the court house proves they were efficient workmen. In order to raise funds to defray the expenses of its erection, the legislature obtained a loan of 746l. 12s. 4½d. currency, from the executors of Samuel and Thomas Watkins; and Jonas Langford (a proprietor of Antigua, and whose estates still go by his name) lent 1253l. 7s. 7¾d. currency, which debts were to be paid off by levying a tax of 2s. 6d. per head upon all slaves in the island for six years.

The place where it stands was originally the market; but that site being the one most approved of for the erection of a public building, the market was removed to a street nearly facing it, where it has since been held.

The court house is a very noble-looking pile for a West India colony, and indeed would not disgrace the boasted streets of London. The plan of the structure is very uniform and neat. It is built of a fine-grained freestone, the produce of some of the small islands already described, which was furnished by contract for the purpose by Mr. Robert Bannister, a former planter of Antigua.

The principal entrance (to the south) is approached by iron gates; and after crossing a small court-yard paved with large flag-stones, you enter a small corridor, supported by circular stone columns, with plain capitals. At each end of this corridor, a flight of stairs leads to the upper apartments in the east and west wings, the one appropriated to the use of his excellency the governor, when he retires for the purpose of preparing his speech; the other to the clerk of the assembly; below are the marshal’s office, and the office of the colonial secretary.

The ground-floor of the main building comprises one large room, extending the whole length and breadth of the edifice. The east end being fitted up for the sittings of all courts of justice, has its bench for the judges, covered with crimson, and a chair for the governor (when present), over which are the national arms, where the “lion” grins with approved ferocity, and the “unicorn” shews its golden hoofs. Around a huge circular table, which might have feasted “king Arthur” and his gallant “knights,” even better than the stone one which is shewn as having answered for that purpose, are placed the sittings for the barristers, attorney-general, solicitor-general, and benches for the grand and petty juries. Exactly opposite the seat of the solicitor-general, a ready pen has scrawled upon the table a striking likeness of “his satanic majesty.” I hope his aid was not necessary in that part of Astrea’s court, at the time his lineaments were portrayed! This part of the interior is enclosed within a semi-circular mahogany railing. At the lower or west end of the apartment are congregated all the canaille​—​the very riff-raff of the town​—​who flock to hear speeches they understand as much as a Greek syllogism; the respectable spectators are admitted within the enclosure. The barristers plead in gowns, but not in wigs, very much to their comfort I should apprehend, in this warm climate.

The upper floor of the court house is divided into two apartments by wooden partitions, leaving a lobby between; but these can be removed at pleasure, making the whole one room, as on the ground-floor. The east apartment is appropriated to the governor and council, when sitting; at other times for the use of the grand jury, or petty juries in criminal causes. A long table covered with “green cloth” runs across the room, and around which are placed very handsome chairs, of unique patterns, (oak, with cane backs, and green morocco seats and elbows,) the one destined for the use of the governor being of larger dimensions, and having the arms of England painted upon it.

The west room is used for the meeting of the house of assembly, and is furnished in the same manner as the other apartment, only that under the royal arms (which are attached to the north side of the room) is a kind of rostrum, furnished with its proper seat, and intended for the accommodation of the speaker of the house of assembly.

On returning by the west flight of stairs, my eyes were directed to a padlock in the wall, which formerly secured the ladder made use of at executions; but happy am I to say, such scenes are now of very rare occurrence in this island.

I should have observed, that balls and dinners are sometimes held at the court house; as well as Bible and missionary meetings; and also fancy sales for charitable purposes. The last fancy fair, or rather bazaar, held there by the Church-of-England Association, was a very crowded affair. It took place on the day after Christmas-day, a day of all others devoted by the Antiguans to a display of dress. Not only all kinds of fancy and ornamental articles, fabricated by the fair hands of the Antiguan ladies were to be found there, but what pleased some part of the company much better, a well-filled lunch-table was spread, when pullets and guinea-birds, turkeys and ham, were joined to a whole army of tarts and puffs, fruits and confections. It was a motley group that frequented the court house that day: Iris would have found herself outvied in colours, and Fancy might have taken a new lesson. In one part of the room might be seen a member of the council, with his lady hanging upon his arm, and next to him a black labourer with his lady, in the same position; the latter couple making, in many instances, a far greater show than their aristocratic neighbours.^[80] The military band was stationed in the lower apartment, and played during the day the most fashionable and favourite airs. The profits arising from this sale were appropriated to the purposes of assisting to defray the expenses of the new public cistern lately erected.

Opposite the north side of the court house is the arsenal, erected in 1757 or 1758. It is, as might be supposed, a strong building, and stands in a court yard, enclosed with iron railings. To the east of the arsenal is the old guard-house, erected in 1754, during the administration of Sir George Thomas. It is a plain building, with two projecting wings; but it is now very much out of repair, not being used for any purpose. Adjoining the guard-house is a long stone building, with its grated windows, formerly used as the gaol of the island, but within these last few years turned into the police office,​—​the goal being removed to the suburbs of St. John’s. This is a very great improvement; for this building, standing in one of the greatest thoroughfares of this populous town, and directly facing the market, the culprits who were immured for petty crimes, and kept in that part of the gaol, could look through their grated windows, hold converse with the passers-by, and thus disseminate their evil counsels among the idle and profligate of both sexes, who were always lounging about that spot. The dungeons where the felons used to be confined were gloomy dens indeed, and ran along the outer walls of the prison. One of these dungeons has been lately made into an engine-house, a door being broken through its massy walls facing the street. Upon passing this vault during its transformation, a sigh broke from my lips as memory carried me back to those fearful days when so many miserable creatures, who bore the name without the freedom of man, used to inhabit them, and often, it is said, from very trivial causes. Like Sterne, I fancied I could behold them in all their misery,​—​their bodies, perhaps, wasted with disease,​—​their eyes blood-shot and wild with despair,​—​their features sharpened by anguish of mind:—​no one to soothe their grief,​—​no one to hear their complaint,​—​and without the hope, but not perhaps without the fear, of an hereafter, they left those cheerless vaults to be launched into eternity by the hangman’s hands! The picture was too dreadful; but sounds of laughter and gladness were abroad, our carriage rolled on amid crowds of blacks of every sex and age; and although at times I suffer, as many others do, from their impudence of manners and behaviour, yet I felt in my heart a pleasure at their being free. The present building was erected in 1772, the former gaol having been burnt to the ground in the great fire of 1769.

The next edifice worthy of notice is government house. It is situated in a pleasant and open space in the suburbs, and embraces a wide extent of prospect, while from its open windows as pure a breeze may be inhaled as attainable from any dwelling in the capital. Although possessing nothing very grand in its exterior, or internal arrangements, no marble pillars or lofty arches, yet it is a pleasant, genteel West Indian residence, possessing some good apartments, and having its stabling and other out-buildings upon a respectable scale. During the period his excellency is residing in the capital, the “Union Jack” floats from the top of the flag-staff, opposite government house; and then all loyal subjects pay their respects to their young and beautiful queen’s representative.

The custom house, as has already been mentioned, was destroyed in the fire of 1841. It was a very respectable edifice, and well suited to the purpose. The building now used in its stead is hired at the annual rent of 100l. sterling. The treasurer’s and registrar’s offices are also private property, for which a moderate rent is given.^[81]

From the custom house, I proceed to mention the barracks, very delightfully situated in a kind of open heath, to the east of the town. These consisted of two distinct buildings a few paces from each other; but the north wing of the lower one becoming dismantled and ruinous, it was resolved in 1831 to repair it, and appropriate it to the use of a gaol, instead of the building already described in the vicinity of the court house.

In this gaol, far greater attention is paid to the unfortunate inmates than was formerly the case. The prisoners are furnished with two wholesome and sufficient meals a day, but no clothing or bedding is allowed, unless by order of the medical man attending them. The females are separated from the men, and the debtors from the felons; although in former years they all used to herd together.

Since the year 1829, the Rev. Robert Holberton, the excellent rector of St. John’s, has voluntarily visited the prison every Sunday between the hours of seven and eight a.m., to read prayers, and deliver a religious discourse to the inmates; and in all cases where an unhappy being has so outraged the laws of humanity and justice as to forfeit his life to pay the penalty of his crimes, that divine has ever stepped in with his message of mercy, prayed with them, and sought to soften their stony hearts; to lead them to that only fountain capable of washing away their deadly sins, and finally accompanied them to the last sad scene of their mortal career.

One part of the gaol is converted into a house of correction, and the prisoners confined there are employed in breaking stones, or, under the surveillance of an officer, in working in the roads, or assisting in any other public works. A treadmill was sent for from England some time ago, but after costing the country a large sum, strange to say, no use is made of it. A shed is built over it, and there it remains quietly in the gaol-yard, and is likely to do so to the end of its existence. The reason for not using this machine, however, is said to be on account of the power required to work it, which necessarily calls for the exertions of a large gang; and although the house of correction is generally crowded with occupants, yet there has seldom been a sufficient number of culprits at one time condemned to that peculiar punishment, to set the treadmill going.

The north end of the building is appropriated to the use of the officers of her majesty’s troops, stationed for the time in the island; and notwithstanding its near proximity to a prison, must, I should think, be a very pleasant domicile. The privates are quartered at the other barracks, further to the east; and beneath the shade of a large tree growing near, their red-faced wives may be seen busily employed in washing their habiliments, while their sun-burnt children scramble about and chase the butterflies, who, gorgeous in colours, sport about the margin of a neighbouring pond.

The next building to be mentioned is, the new Ebenezer Chapel, belonging to the Methodist society. The corner-stone of this edifice was laid by the Honourable Nicholas Nugent (then speaker of the house of assembly, but who now resides in England as the colonial agent) in 1837. A religious service was first held in the old chapel, and then, forming into a procession, consisting of ministers of the different sects in Antigua, some of the aristocrats of the island, the leading members of the Methodists, and the scholars of their Sunday-schools, they marched to the spot appointed for the erection of their new place of worship. A bottle containing the customary inscription was placed in the cavity the stone lowered to its proper situation, the three blows of the mallet struck, addresses delivered, and the ceremony was over.

It is a spacious building, the front being constructed of free-stone, the gift of the Honourable and Rev. Nathaniel Gilbert. It is pierced with two tiers of windows; the upper ones arched and of larger size than the lower tier, which are very disproportioned to the extent of the edifice​—​a circumstance which tends to render it warmer than it otherwise would be. The ground-floor is appropriated to the use of the infant and Sunday schools, as also their “tea-parties,” held for charitable purposes; above is the chapel, which is approached by an outward flight of stone steps. The interior is fitted up in the usual plain style; but boasts a smart display of blue and white paint.

The pulpit, painted to represent oak, is an irregular octagon, supported by four fluted columns, and covered with purple drapery, bordered with yellow fringe, instead of gold; below is the reading desk. The pulpit is so lofty, which renders it inconvenient for such of the congregation as occupy the body of the chapel to follow the movements of the officiating minister. The galleries run round all sides, and are supported by plain cast-iron pillars, bearing each its neat-looking lamp. The last gallery is exclusively appropriated to the use of the children of the Females’ Friend Society and the Sunday-school scholars; and here, also, is placed the seraphine belonging to the chapel, which serves to lead the vocal part of the service. Altogether, the chapel is an excellent building, superior to anything of the kind I have seen in the West Indies, and makes a good and commanding outward appearance, particularly when lighted up of an evening; but to my eye it looks more like reading rooms, or a philosophical institution, than a place of worship.

Methodism was first established in Antigua in 1760, by the Honourable Nathaniel Gilbert, speaker of the house of assembly. In 1758, Mr. Gilbert visited England, carrying with him some of his negro servants; and during his stay there, he formed an acquaintance with the Rev. John Wesley, the venerable founder of Methodism, who baptized two of the negroes. Upon Mr. Gilbert’s return to Antigua, he signified to those individuals who resided near him, that he should feel happy in meeting them at his house on certain evenings, when he would expound the word of God to them, and endeavour to enlighten their minds upon religious subjects. This invitation was eagerly accepted by many of the negroes and coloured people, and Mr. Gilbert was led to increase his views, and form a regular organized society, which in a short time amounted to two hundred members.

This proceeding of Mr. Gilbert produced the greatest astonishment among the inhabitants of Antigua. A man in his rank of life to herd with negro slaves, and their coloured offspring, who, although perhaps they might be free, bore about with them the marks of their despised race!​—​oh! wondrous! incomprehensible!​—​the man must be mad, thought they. But when he, unmindful of their censure, proceeded in his acts of love towards these poor outcasts from the pale of society, their wonder knew no bounds; their feelings took another turn, and what at first was surprise, gave way to reproach and contempt. Mr. Gilbert, however, was not to be moved by what mankind said of him; he knew the consequence before he commenced his labours; and reckless of scorn or reprehension, he steadily pursued the path he had chalked out, knowing full well in whom he trusted. Thus he proceeded, until death called him from this world, and summoned him to reap his reward in heaven; when, strong in faith, he left his infant society without a shepherd to watch over its welfare.

Mr. Gilbert derived his origin from a family of considerable distinction in the west of England, where one of its members​—​Sir Humphrey Gilbert​—​associating himself with his kinsman, the celebrated Sir Walter Raleigh, became one of the most eminent circumnavigators of the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Dying, he left a son, Raleigh Gilbert, Esq., who, among other individuals, obtained from King James I. a large grant, in what was then termed Plymouth​—​the foundation of the afterwards glorious colony of Virginia, in North America​—​and where, in 1606, he emigrated, along with the Lord Chief Justice Popham; George Popham, Esq. (his son); William Parker, Esq.; and Thomas Stanham, Esq. Soon after this period, we find Raleigh Gilbert, under the title of Captain Gilbert, in command of a vessel manned with 100 men, and provided with ordnance, stores, and provisions, sufficient for the establishment of a plantation, which he (in conjunction with Captain Popham, a joint patentee, and in command of another vessel, similarly provided) began on the banks of the river “Sagadock,” in the year 1608, and where they erected a fort, called Sir George’s. Captain Popham, his zealous coadjutor, having died in this place, Captain Gilbert returned to England, where he took possession of an estate, fallen to him by the death of his elder brother, Sir John Gilbert, President of the Virginian Company. Another member of this family, we find, about the same time, leader of an abortive expedition to form a settlement upon the shores of the Bay of Chesapeake, in Virginia, and who, it appears, was well acquainted with those several islands which now form the Leeward Caribbee government. The following extract is taken from a work published in 1741 (second edition):—

“In the same year, Captain Gilbert, in the ‘Elizabeth,’ of London, made a voyage to Virginia, but not with the like success. He traded with the savages in the Charibbe Islands​—​viz., St Lucia, Dominica, Nevis, St Christopher’s, &c., and thence proceeded to the Bay of Chesapeake, in Virginia, being the first that sailed up it, and landed there. The Indians set upon him and his company in the woods, and Captain Gilbert and four or five of his men were killed by their arrows, upon which his crew returned home.”

We cannot undertake to say from which particular member of this distinguished family the Gilberts of Antigua sprang, but they were among its earliest settlers, and constituted some of the greatest ornaments of the colony, in which for so many years they have been proprietors. The present most noble Marquis of Northampton, President of the Royal Society, descends, in a female line, from this family. His mother, the late marchioness, (married, August 18, 1787, to Charles, late Earl and Marquis of Northampton, and died, March, 1843,) being the daughter of a Miss Gilbert, (daughter of Nathaniel Gilbert, of Gilberts, Antigua, Esq., grandfather of the present Honourable and Reverend N. Gilbert,) by her husband, Joshua Smith, of East Stoke Park, co. of Wilts, Esq.

But to return to Methodism. Unpromising as the state of this little society might seem, the good seed already sown was not destined to perish. The Great Shepherd cared for it; and when least expected, raised another pastor in the person of a Mr. John Baxter, a native of England. Mr. Baxter was a man who moved in humble life, and who worked in the capacity of shipwright, in Chatham Dockyard; but he was justly esteemed by all who knew him, a pattern to the society to which he belonged, and a highly-respected leader among Mr. Wesley’s sect. In 1777, a proposal was made him by some of the directors of the Chatham Dockyard, to sail for Antigua, and work as foreman of the calkers in the naval establishment of that island. To this Mr. Baxter assented; but not so his friends: they made use of every argument in their power to make him forego his purpose​—​representing, in the most glowing colours, the distance he would be from all he loved; the dangers of the ocean, over which he must pass; and the difference, perhaps insalubrity, of climate he would have to contend with. But all without avail; he felt an unconquerable desire to visit that portion of the globe, and accordingly, bidding his friends farewell, he left England, and arrived in Antigua on the 2nd of April, 1778.

As might be expected, he found the infant Methodist Society in a very languishing state. Upon hearing of his arrival, and of his being a member of the same sect as their beloved benefactor, the little band waited upon him, and after welcoming him to their shores, begged him to tell Mr. Wesley he had many children in Antigua whom he had never seen, but who were earnestly desirous of his aid. On the following Sabbath, Mr. Baxter met them in the services of religion, and from that day constituted himself their pastor; which office he performed until his death, assembling them together on Sundays, and performing the full service, as in England, and on the other week-days, after his labours in the dockyard were over, visiting the different estates, and teaching the poor slaves the road to salvation.

His exertions were greatly blessed; and by the following year, 1779, six hundred negroes were joined to the congregation. He now contemplated the erection of a chapel, and for that purpose instituted collections among his people, and adopted every other consistent method to acquire funds to carry out his plans.

Mr. Baxter’s situation was productive of great discomfort to himself; his duties to be performed in the naval-yard were very laborious; and after a long day’s work, his evenings were spent in travelling from plantation to plantation, the harbinger of Gospel news. He had no one to assist him in his self-appointed task, but for some years laboured on alone. In 1782, he mentions in a letter to a friend, “There is no white person in the congregation but myself. At St. John’s, thirty coloured persons receive the Lord’s Supper.”

Assistance, however, was not so far off as he supposed. About this time an Irish family (who were all members of Mr. Wesley’s sect) were persuaded by an unprincipled captain of a trading vessel, to sell all their little property, and emigrate with him to America. Deceived by his plausible manners and fair speeches, they acquiesced in his proposals; and turning all their goods into money, the whole family, consisting of an elderly father and mother, a son, and some daughters, embarked on board his vessel, and sought with him their better fortune in a far-off land. But their false friend having inveigled them into his power, under various pretences, robbed them of their little all, and then deserted them, in a strange country. After suffering many and bitter privations, they found their way to Antigua, where they eventually became valuable assistants to Mr. Baxter.

In the meantime, Mr. Baxter’s great object, the erection of a Methodist chapel in St. John’s, was rapidly being accomplished; and on the 8th of November, 1783, that worthy man, with an overflowing heart, had the happiness of preaching his first sermon in it, to a full and serious audience. In the space of the three following years, the society increased to 2000 persons.

In 1786, Dr. Coke, the Wesleyan missionary and historian, left England, for the purpose of spreading gospel tidings in America. Meeting, however, with violent gales, the ship in which he took passage was unable to make her destined port; and after encountering a series of disasters, as a last and only resort, was obliged to put into Antigua, in distress. Dr. Coke was delighted to find the Wesleyan society in that island in so satisfactory a state​—​a circumstance he was unprepared for; and in his letters to England, expresses in warm terms his pleasure upon the subject.

The first conference was held at Antigua, in the year 1787; but the annual conferences, or district meetings, were not established until 1793, when, on the returns being made, the society was found to consist of 6570 members; out of which there were 36 white, and 105 coloured persons. Although the Methodist society had progressed so far, and embraced so many members, yet its proceedings were reviled and insulted by the greater part of the white inhabitants. All kinds of petty insults were heaped upon its pastors; while their place of worship was made the scene of vulgar waggeries and ribald jests. One favourite amusement with many of the young men of that period was, to procure a live goat, and after hampering its legs, fling it into the midst of the assembly, while engaged at their devotion at the Methodist chapel. At other times, in order to vary the sport, the goat was secured against the chapel door; and as the minister pronounced the amen, or the members raised their hymns of praise to God, the poor animal was beat and kicked until it joined in chorus with its deep and unharmonious cries, which were received with bursts of applauding laughter by its foolish captors.

Mr. Baxter, although a very good man, was not, I have understood, possessed of very superior talents; and accordingly, many of his discourses produced much merriment among that class of persons who frequented his chapel for the sake of passing criticisms, as well as killing time. He had a favourite servant living with him, whose name was John Bott, and who attended to the lighting up of the chapel, as well as performing his home duties. Upon one occasion, John neglected to snuff the candles; an omission which caused his master so much uneasiness, that, after endeavouring in vain to read the portion of Scripture selected, he was fain to interrupt himself in the midst of a passage​—​“And Nathan said unto David​—​John Bott, snuff the candles!” This intervention, as may be supposed, caused a tumult of laughter; nor (said an ear-witness) could his own people restrain their risible faculties. But to return. About 1793, Dr. Coke paid Antigua another visit, and preached upon many plantations; one of which was Sir George Thomas’s, at North Sound. The old chapel at Parham was erected in 1802; the returns of the society made that year were, 4000 persons.

The year 1805 was marked by the Methodists as that in which their friend and pastor, Mr. John Baxter, closed his mortal career, after a well-spent life​—​twenty-seven years of which he passed in Antigua.^[82] He died November the 13th, 1805, and was interred in the churchyard of St. John’s; but if any stone marked the place of burial, time has obliterated the inscription, or else shattered the tomb. The visitor may look in vain for such a memento. It appears strange to me, that the Wesleyans of Antigua have never erected monuments to the memories of Mr. Gilbert and Mr. Baxter. I am sure there are members enough to do this; and it would be but paying a proper tribute of respect to the memories of those excellent men, and founders of that sect in this island. Perhaps, they may take the hint, and allow the walls of their handsome chapel to be graced with two neat marble tablets devoted to that purpose.

But to proceed. Since Mr. Baxter’s death, the Wesleyan society has been rapidly progressing, not only in Antigua, but in all the other West India Islands, although Antigua is still looked upon as the parent church; and in 1842, the society in that island consisted of about 2700 members. Beside the chapel in St. John’s, they have places of worship at Parham, English Harbour, Willoughby Bay, and elsewhere.

Thus, from a small beginning​—​from a few black slaves gathered together by night beneath the roof of a white man​—​this society has spread far and wide, like some huge wave, until now it boasts a vast increase of number, of every variety of shade, from the ruddy son of Britain, down to the jetty offspring of Afric’s soil. Great success has attended the preaching of this sect; and although an episcopalian myself, and consequently more attached to that form of worship, I cannot let the opportunity pass me without offering my mite of praise to the character of their undaunted and fervent ministers, tendering my hearty wishes for their further progress, and, at the same time, expressing my firm belief that they have, through God, been the means of preventing much crime, and saving many, very many, from the fearful retribution, the inevitable attendant on a misspent life.

From this view of the Methodist Chapel and Methodism, I proceed to mention the Moravian settlement. The Moravians, or rather, “United Brethren,” as many of my readers may be aware, revived under the celebrated Count Zinzendorf, a native of Germany, who, with some of his followers, visited England in the reign of George II., and formed several settlements of their sect in different parts of that kingdom. They also established colonies in Greenland, Labrador, and other parts of North America, and in South America.

In 1731, Count Zinzendorf visited Denmark, for the purpose of attending the coronation of Christian VI., who, by the death of his father, was called to the throne of that kingdom. During his residence at that court, some of his domestics became acquainted with a negro, named Anthony, from one of the Danish islands. This man related many instances of the moral darkness in which the West Indies were enveloped, and of the distressed state of the negroes; which being repeated to the count, he felt an invincible desire to send missionaries to that part of the world, to proclaim the “tidings of great joy” to those poor benighted negroes.

In 1732, this desire was carried into effect; and two missionaries were despatched from “Herrnhutt,” (the principal Moravian station, in Lusatia, Germany,) to St. Thomas. Other missionaries followed them; and in 1733, they planted their standard in St. Croix. In 1754, the society in London sent missionaries to Jamaica, who were followed by some of the brethren from America; and in 1756, Samuel Isles, a true and exemplary Christian, came from St. Thomas, where he had been residing as missionary for eight years, and established the first Moravian settlement in Antigua.

Their labour of love was at first very slow in its progress; but they succeeded, in 1761, in raising a chapel, for the accommodation of the negroes, on a spot of land, purchased for the purpose, in St. John’s. Still their society rather decreased than flourished, until, about 1768, there were only fourteen members in the church at St. John’s. Disheartening as these circumstances were, like true soldiers of the Cross, they would not lay down their arms; and at length, their faith and patience met with their reward. A wonderful revival took place, and in 1775 “the number of their stated hearers amounted to 2000; and never a month elapsed without an addition to the church of ten or twenty by baptism.”

By the year 1787, 5465 negroes were admitted into the church. Their first settlement was situated at St. John’s; but in 1782, they had formed another at Grace Hill, or, as it was first termed, Bailey Hill; a delightful spot, about ten miles from the capital. The number baptized at St. John’s, in 1789, was 507; while at Grace Hill, 217 were admitted into the church by that ceremony. By this time, five preachers were settled in Antigua; and in the course of the two following years, the society enrolled 7400 members. At the present period, 1842, the number may be estimated at 11,000.

Their settlement at St. John’s is situated in Spring Gardens, at the extreme north end of the town, and looks the very picture of neatness and domestic comfort. The present chapel, erected in 1773, is a plain building​—​devoid of any great architectural beauty, it is true, but interesting from its very simplicity, and from being built by the negroes in times of slavery. The rapid increase of their numbers, already mentioned, rendered it necessary to provide a larger place of worship; which fact being mentioned to their negro converts, they immediately commenced procuring some of the materials, by each bringing a few stones with them, when they came to their evening meetings in the week. Those of them who were masons and carpenters worked with the greatest energy “in their free hours, after their daily tasks were done; and those who could not assist in the labour provided victuals for the workmen.” Since that period, the chapel has had many enlargements and alterations made to it. The dwellings of the preachers are gathered around it; and their neat, cheerful-looking burying-ground, in which grows many a beautiful tree, bounds the settlement to the east. Everything about them looks green, and fresh, and lovely; and their wives, in their neat caps, and Quaker-like style of dress, and the often very pretty, but quiet contour of their features, appear in perfect harmony with the other parts of the picture. I must say, I like the Moravians: they seem to have so much open-heartedness about them​—​such patriarchal simplicity of manners. Among themselves they are ever kind and courteous, forming, as it were, one large family of affectionate brothers and sisters. They have done much good among the black race, for whose welfare the mission was particularly intended; and many happy deaths among them attest the truth. Besides their settlement in St. John’s, they have several in other parts of the island; namely, at Grace Hill, Grace Bay, Newfield, Cedar Hall, Lebanon, Gracefield, and Five Islands.

Among their ministers, men of learning and talent may be found. Their superintendent, the Rev. Mr. H———, is a great biblical scholar, possessed of superior faculties, and a good nervous preacher; but some of their missionaries, although far from deficient in erudition, from being natives of Germany, and not thoroughly acquainted with the English language, are almost unintelligible to English ears. I cannot say I admire the singing part of their service; at a given signal they all seem to dart off at the highest pitch of their voices, and keep on without regard to time or melody. However, I understand they have also a seraphine for the use of their chapel, which may tend to modulate the discordant voices of their congregation.^[83] I hope these last few remarks may not be understood as unkind or sarcastic. Far be it from me to scoff at any sect. True it is I note their peculiarities; but if founded on the conscientious belief of the propriety of their own form of worship, I would not raise a laugh at the fantastic movements of even the “Jumpers” or the “Shakers” by any animadversions of mine.

The last and remaining edifice I have to mention, is the half-finished kirk of the Scotchmen. The foundation-stone of this place of worship was laid with the usual ceremonies by Sir Wm. Colebrooke, the late governor, on the 9th of April, 1839. It is situated upon an ascent on the eastern outskirts of the town, and from it may be seen many a lovely landscape, which Claude Lorraine would not have scorned to imitate. It progresses but slowly; but still it has been known for the tortoise to outrun the hare, and win the race, and therefore the Scotch kirk may yet exceed some of its contemporaries. In its present form I can say but little about it, except that the same fault cannot be found with it as there has been with the Methodist chapel​—​the small size of the windows​—​for the Scotch kirk appears to be all windows and doors. If, however, the Scotchman will make haste and finish the building, I will promise to write all about it; in the meantime, as I have already made this chapter of leviathan dimensions, I will make my courtesy, and​—​exit for the night.

CHAPTER XXI.

Morning​—​Institutions​—​Daily Meal Society​—​Its rise and progress​—​Lazaretto​—​Destitute Females’ Friend Society​—​Its origin and purpose​—​Friendly societies​—​Bible Society​—​Missionary associations​—​Temperance Society​—​Juvenile Association​—​Ladies’ Clothing Society &c.​—​Banks​—​Library Society.

Another morning is come​—​a bright glorious morning: the sky is as deeply blue as the breast of the kingfisher, except where here and there a snowy pyramid of clouds mounts slowly up the heavens. Through the open windows of my apartments, a rich flood of sunshine pours in, and plays upon the floor in many a fanciful chequer. The bright red flowers of the “Scarlet Cordia” hang in tasteful branches from among their broad green leaves, and attract the attention of the little humming-bird, who, in their changeful plumage, flit around, and rob the flowers of their liquid sweets. The breeze is as gentle as an infant’s sigh, a dreamy stillness is abroad, and​—​but what was that?​—​rain, I declare! A gloom has silently and suddenly overspread the sky; the late white-robed clouds have become covered with a darkened hue; the wind has raised its pipe; the rain comes pouring down, and chases away my feathered favourites. I can write no more of bright skies and glowing sunbeams, and therefore I must proceed in my task, which the beauty of the morning drove from my thoughts; and having already attempted a description of the buildings of St. John’s, I shall now endeavour to give some account of its institutions.

The first to be placed upon the list, not from the number of years it has been established, but from its extent, is the Daily Meal Society, for information respecting which I am indebted to the Rev. Robert Holberton. This society, intended for the purpose of “supplying the sick and needy, of St. John’s and its neighbourhood with a daily meal,“ was established in the year 1828, the management of its affairs being “undertaken by a committee of seven gentlemen in the town, (the present Speaker of the House of Assembly being the treasurer;) three of the clergy, (the Rev. Robt. Holberton being the secretary;) and five of the medical gentlemen.” They hold their meetings in the churchwarden’s office, and on the 18th of June, 1828, a female superintendent was appointed at a salary of 50l. currency per annum. A “soup-house” was erected in the yard attached to the superintendent’s dwelling to the east of the church, the land being allowed to the society, free of rent, for the space of seven years by the heirs of “Donovan’s Estate.” A ship’s boiler having been presented to the society, it was immediately put into requisition, and the first meal distributed the 2nd of August, 1828, to thirty-six persons.

Up to that time there was no parochial relief for any black or coloured person; and consequently, when the establishment of such a society became known, the sick and aged among those classes eagerly sought for shelter, and an alleviation of their distresses. The medical gentlemen of St. John’s having offered to attend gratuitously, in monthly rotation, the cry of these unfortunate people was responded to; and five small houses, adjoining the “soup-house,” having been first rented, and afterwards purchased by the society, fourteen of these afflicted ones were received and succoured. Many a poor outcast found his throbbing heart at rest when possessed of these humble accommodations; many a sufferer had his pains alleviated, and the oil of mercy poured into his wounds. Five or six successful amputations were also performed there during that early period.

The rise and progress of this institution is so interesting, that I think I cannot do better than follow up the account of it, in the words of the Rev. Mr. Holberton, published in a “Brief Review:” “After the destructive hurricane of 1835, (when this society was found signally useful in furnishing a comfortable meal daily to the houseless poor,) the unappropriated residue of a grant from the legislature, for restoring some of the damaged houses of the poor of St. John’s, was handed over to the committee of the Daily Meal Society, with the understanding that shelter should be given to those whose houses were considered past repairing. This testimony of public confidence, together with a handsome private donation of 90l. sterling, occurring at the very time when the land on which the institution had stood for seven years was required by the owner, stimulated the committee to attempt to re-establish it on a more extensive scale.”

Mr. Holberton proceeds to pass some high encomiums upon the Very Rev. the Archdeacon Parry (late of Antigua) for the great interest felt by him in the success of the society​—​encomiums, no doubt, richly his due; but the rector was necessitated to forego mentioning what it is in my power to do, that it was principally through his own kind heart, and from his deep Christian principles, which led him to exert every energy in its behalf, that the Daily Meal Society had its origin, and is in its present flourishing condition.

Mr. H. proceeds: “Chiefly at his” (the archdeacon’s) “instance, a successful application was made to the legislature for a piece of land near the rectory, 300 feet long by 100 feet wide. This was enclosed with strong palisades, and within were erected a kitchen, or ‘soup-house,’ of stone, 30 feet long and 15 wide, a wooden house, 60 feet by 20 feet, divided into six apartments, capable of accommodating four persons in each. A well was also dug 24 feet deep, and four of the wooden houses which stood on the old site were transported to the new one. The expense of effecting these objects amounted to 1300l. currency, of which about 1000l. currency was raised by subscriptions. This establishment was opened on 8th March, 1837, under the name of the Asylum, and has been providentially raised up to meet, in the most satisfactory manner, the various cases of distress that have occurred since the general emancipation in 1834, and has effectually done away with begging in the streets of St. John’s.”

As leprosy is a frequent disease among the negroes, and, from its contagious character, doubts had arisen upon the propriety of admitting persons suffering from that dreadful complaint into the asylum, it was determined in 1836 to open a subscription list for the purpose of erecting another building for their reception. That they might have the benefit of sea-air and sea-bathing, the site chosen for it was by the sea-side. This building was commenced in 1837, and “although, from want of funds, scarcely one of the two wings could be completed, admission was given to five leprous persons on the 25th of April in that year.” The society, however, “was compelled to declare that, without parochial allowances, the institution must fall to the ground. The claim to such help was at once seen to be most reasonable and highly needful, and the desired combination of parochial with voluntary relief was speedily effected. The legislature granting 600l. currency the following year, the debts were paid off, and the building finished and publicly opened under the title of the Lazaretto, on the 20th June, 1838.”

The Lazaretto consists of “six rooms for females and six for males, capable of accommodating three in each, besides one small room for one person only. The enclosed yard has been, for the most part, converted into plots for provisions, and for keeping poultry in. Some bamboos have been planted, which will in time afford materials for making baskets, about which one of the men is industriously employed, and by the sale of his work contrives to purchase clothes for himself, at half-price, from the Ladies Clothing Society. All the inmates appear thankful and contented, and some have shewn a readiness to receive scriptural instruction that is very pleasing.” Poor creatures! some of them are, indeed, objects for the deepest commiseration, but their sufferings are alleviated as far as possible. Their residence is a delightful situation; the sea-breeze comes so pure from off the bosom of the ocean, that one would suppose disease must fly before it. From the farthest point of the land runs a causeway over to Rat Island, (the promontory already mentioned as being the site of one of the forts,) made about the year 1748, and which is passable at ebb-tide. Upon this promontory, which rises in the form of a steep mount, a lunatic asylum has been built during the past year, (1841,) the legislature having voted a sum for that purpose, for the use of such inmates of the institution as have shewn symptoms of aberration of mind.

In 1838, the legislature gave a further grant of 500l. currency to the society, for the purpose of erecting “a separate ward for the male patients, with ten apartments capable of accommodating four persons in each,” in that part of the establishment situated near the rectory, which was finished and opened on the 15th July, 1839. An iron tank, capable of holding 7000 gallons of water, has been imported from England, and placed in the yard of the same portion of the institution. In 1840, the title of the society was changed from that of “The Asylum” to “The Daily Meal Society’s Infirmary and Lazaretto,” by which latter designation it is now distinguished.

This establishment is, indeed, the only infirmary and hospital in the island, (with the exception of the cast-iron hospital at the Ridge, near English Harbour, for the use of the troops;) and not only the destitute poor of St. John’s, but the poor from all the other parishes are admitted into it, as well as distressed and destitute sailors. The best medical attendance is procured for them; wine and other strengthening nourishment administered to the sick; and three wholesome meals allowed to each individual per day. Bedsteads and bedding are also supplied, there being “in the female ward six, and in the male ward ten furnished apartments, ready for the reception of patients at the shortest notice.”

Nor are these the only accommodations this inestimable charity affords to the poor and distressed of our species, there being seven detached houses on the opposite side of the inclosure, capable of containing two, three, or four persons in each. “In these separate dwellings infirm persons are distributed, whose complaints, habits, or tempers, render it expedient that they should be kept by themselves. One house, fronting the burial-ground, is reserved for the reception of the dead previous to interment, and is used for a dissecting room when required. Eighty inmates can be comfortably accommodated at the infirmary.” The income for the last year, (1841,) including subscriptions, donations, legacies, and parochial relief, was 1361l. 0s. 4½d. currency, the expenditure, 1225l. 4s. 4d.; the latter sum would have been of greater extent was it not from the kindness of many of the Antiguan proprietors, in presenting each a barrel or two of sugar.

Thus have I gone with Mr. Holberton through the “rise and progress of the Daily Meal Society.” Perhaps some of the truly charitable inhabitants of dear old England may be induced to send their mite across the waters in aid of this society, of whose existence they may probably not have been hitherto aware; and as I knew it was out of my power to use more cogent language​—​language which speaks to the heart​—​nor advocate the cause so well as our excellent rector, I have therefore quoted so largely from his “brief review,” feeling assured he will pardon me, and hoping my readers will bear with me. In conclusion, I will once more use his words and say​—​“It is undeniable that the hand of God has been over it to sustain it in its small beginning, to uphold it in every difficulty, and to raise it to its present prosperity. To God, then, be all the praise; and may the success with which He has been pleased to crown the exertions of the society provoke every member and friend of it to increasing diligence in these works of charity, for which there will still be a continual call.”

The next charitable institution to be mentioned is “the Destitute Females’ Friend Society,” or, as it is now termed, “the Female Orphan Society.” This latter title is, however, a misnomer, for but few of the inmates are orphans in the true sense of the word, they being, but with few exceptions, the illegitimate children of black or coloured women, (by white or coloured persons,) whose parents, still alive, are, from penury, incompetent to maintain them, or are living in a state of concubinage, and consequently not proper guides to youth.

This society, which is invaluable, and is well known in England by its first name, although, perhaps, lost sight of in its modernized title, was established about the year 1816. The origin of it was as follows:—

“The attention of a few pious and benevolent individuals of the female sex was called to the situation of an indigent class of coloured children of their own sex, (for whom there was then no parochial relief;) and witnessing with feelings of poignant regret their moral and religious degradation still more than their bodily necessities, they were impelled to exert, in connexion with a few other friends, all their united energies for the amelioration of the condition of these unhappy children, and thereby lessen the evils resulting to the community in general from a generation growing up without religious or moral cultivation. To effect these desirable objects, it was resolved to make an immediate and bold attempt.

“The attempt was bold, because it could not be carried into execution by persons circumscribed in their means of doing it without the concurrence and aid of others like-minded, and of whose co-operation they were not assured. Encouraged, however, by one whose heart devised liberal things, though possessing himself little power to accomplish them from his own resources, but favoured with influence over some who considered themselves as stewards appointed by God to benefit their fellow creatures, and assured by him of competent aid from England, if it could not be obtained in Antigua, a commencement was made by a few subscribers, chiefly respectable coloured persons; and several children were immediately taken to be clothed, fed, and instructed; and when the plan was made known to the community at large, and to other benevolent individuals in England and Scotland, the society, by their generous assistance, grew into its present state of maturity. Such was its origin, and we cannot but observe in it the benefit resulting from a social compact to do good to our fellow creatures​—​the design to rescue from the paths of the destroyer, and to train in those of piety, industry, and useful occupation, the objects of their care. The success, though not in every instance unfailing, has been considerable. A few, there is reason to hope, are where sin and sorrow cannot enter. Others, as useful domestics, or conductors of their own households, testify to the truth of the fact.

“Three of the elder girls have been sent into creditable situations, with a prospect of comfort to themselves and usefulness to their employers. Four more have been admitted to fill their places. Seventeen are now in the house. The committee would not arrogate to themselves any undue merit; but they gratefully receive the meed of approbation awarded to them by the frequent application they have for the admittance of children, and for girls to fill the place of servants.”

I have quoted so largely from the reports of the society (1841) for two reasons​—​first, because the committee are, and of course ought to be, better acquainted with its proceedings than myself; and secondly, because its details are related with a striking simplicity of style, which must speak to every breast not devoid of the “milk of human kindness,” and I am sure no words of mine would be able to influence further the minds of those benevolent persons who, through the medium of these pages, may become acquainted with its existence, and feel wishful of adding a trifle to the funds of this invaluable society.

That it is an invaluable charity none can deny, for it strikes to the root of all West Indian misery​—​illicit love; and what can be more acceptable to “the community at large” than the endeavouring to inculcate into the minds of its youthful members the doctrines of chastity and diligence in well-doing? The twenty-sixth anniversary of this society was held on the 31st December, 1841. The children, inmates of the house, are taught reading, writing, and arithmetic, and are instructed in all the arts of female plain-work,​—​straw-bonnet sewing and cleaning forming one branch of their employment. Their earnings for the last year were 107l. 0s. 7½d. currency, out of which, 5l. 13s. 10½d. had to be deducted for materials to carry on their different works. The matron receives a salary of 60l. currency per annum, and the children are clothed and boarded, and have medical attendance found them; and when death sends forth its summons, and any of the inmates fall a prey to its inevitable shafts, their last resting-place is provided, and the funeral expenses paid.

The next institutions worthy of mention are the town and country “Friendly Societies.” They are formed upon a similar plan to some of the “poor men’s clubs” in England, and prove of great assistance to the members in times of sickness and trial. The St. John’s Friendly Society was established in 1829, under the auspices of that zealous minister, the Rev. R. Holberton, and was intended to promote good feelings among the lower classes, to assist them in procuring articles of mourning, aid them in times of deep distress, help those incapable of helping themselves, and encourage sobriety and industry among them.

After the abolition of slavery, in 1834, many of the negroes removing from the estates to which they formerly belonged, and other estates not finding medical advice for their labourers, as in times of slavery, it was found necessary to enlarge the rules of the society; and by increasing the amount subscribed by every member, provide them with a doctor when ill, a certain sum per week during indisposition, and upon demise twelve dollars for the funeral expenses.

The first country Friendly Society was established in 1832; but since that period they have rapidly increased. “In 1834,” remarks Mr. Holberton, “there were eleven societies, with 1602 members; in 1835, 4197 members; in 1836, 4560 members.” The Moravians and Wesleyans have each their Friendly Societies, formed and conducted upon a similar plan.

On the first of January, 1842, I visited St. John’s church, to hear the anniversary sermon preached to the society. The members met at the parochial school-room, where they formed into a procession, the women first, and the men following behind, and marched to the church, headed by the Very Rev. the Archdeacon, the Rev. Mr. Holberton, the rector, the Rev. Mr. Piggott, and the Rev. Mr. Saulez. The morning service having been performed, and a very suitable and excellent sermon preached by the Rev. Mr. Piggott, the members again formed into ranks, and marched back to the school-room, where the report of the society was read, short addresses made, and refreshments handed round, when the whole party dispersed. I could not help remarking the smart appearance of the members​—​such rainbow ribbons, and stylish bonnets​—​such parasols and sandals​—​such blue coats and white trowsers!​—​as made their appearance on that day would surprise any one.

The next society, which by-the-bye ought to have been mentioned first, as being the oldest in the island, is the Bible Society, organized in 1815. It is comprised of every sect and shade in the island, and its interests are managed by an efficient committee. After the abolition of slavery in 1834, the parent society sent a “munificent grant, by which a choice portion of the Holy Scriptures was gratuitously circulated to about one-third of the inhabitants of this colony. Nine thousand seven hundred copies of the New Testament, bound together with the Book of Psalms, were thus placed at the disposal of the committee.”

The remaining societies are the “Missionary Associations” connected with the Wesleyan mission, established in 1820, and intended for the purpose of raising funds for the parent society in England. The “Temperance Society,” introduced into Antigua in the year 1836; the “Juvenile Association,” established 1815; the “Ladies Clothing Society,” (or Dorcas Society,) and two other associations belonging to the established church, and known as the “Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge,” and the “Branch Association of the Society for the advancing the Christian Faith in the British West Indies, &c.” The Moravians have also a Missionary society, established in 1839.

Having now gone through the charitable institutions, I must proceed to mention the “Banks,” of which there are two in the island​—​the “Colonial Bank,” incorporated by royal charter, 1836; and the “West Indian Bank,” in 1840. The first of these banks issues a very neat note, (from five dollars [1l. sterling] and upwards,) bearing a lithographed representation of the royal arms, and encircled with a very prettily designed border; but the “West Indian” disseminates the most frightful “paper money” I ever witnessed. Some of their notes are red, and others blue; who was the designer of the “arms” which grace the head of them I know not, but they appear to be in direct opposition to all laws of heraldry. The shield (of an oblong figure) is divided into three quarterings: 1st, or, an eagle (apparently) sable, beaked, rising from the sea; 2nd, gules, a ship full-rigged, argent; 3rd, azure, a castle, argent, battled. The supporters are two dwarfish cocoa-nut trees, (palm?) apparently springing from the same root as their companions, two gigantic pine-apples; the whole surmounted by the crown of England. With regard to the benefit which the establishment of these banks has rendered the country, various opinions have been formed.

After the “Banks,” the only remaining institution to be mentioned is the “Antigua Library Society,” which according to its “rules and regulations,” is devoted to “the gradual formation of a permanent library of general literature, and the establishment, in connexion with the library, of a reading-room, to be furnished with newspapers, journals, pamphlets, periodicals, and other new publications.”

Now it is well known that we live in an age of puffing, as well as steaming, and it may be imagined by some, that these caterers for intellectual sweets have fallen short of their promises. Not so, kind readers; take my word for it there are few better organized societies of the kind to be met with, or whose well-filled shelves bear a richer burden. Books to suit every taste (and every age I might say​—​for our friend “Peter Parley” displays there the hidden treasures of the “earth, the sea, and skies,” to the delight of the youthful reader,) may be found in this Library Society. Theological, metaphysical, biographical, historical, and lighter works, abound. Poetry is not excluded; our own sweet bards, from good old Chaucer, that “father of English poetry,” down to the soft strains of Mrs. Hemans, or L. E. L., rank among its selections.

Of modern works there are no end. There, the irresistible charms of that “Wizard of the North,” the late Sir Walter Scott, with his “Jenny Deans;” his high-minded “Flora McIvor;” his unfortunate “Bride of Lammermoor,” and all his other “gentle dames” and “lordly knights,” are displayed before the enraptured reader. There Marryat amuses with his naïveté, and those stirring incidents of a sailor’s life, he knows so well to picture. There, “Boz” carries you perforce from the hut to the castle, and makes you weep or laugh in each. There are Bulwer and Ainsworth, who draw their gentlemen-ruffians in such a guise as to lead one to admire even a housebreaker or highwayman; Cooper, who makes us long to lead the life of a backwood’s-man; James, with his darling peeps at “by-gone days;” the dear Miss Mitford and Mary Howitt, whose simple annals and sylvan scenes almost bring before us the lovely fields and sweet flowers of England; Mrs. Gore, with all her pageantries; Mrs. Trollope, with her playful but keen sarcasms; the Countess of Blessington, with her elegant diction and pure imagery, as lovely as her own sweet form; with many other authors of note, are equally at the command of the subscribers to this Antiguan bibliotheca.

This society has been established for many years, but it was not incorporated by an act of the legislature until 1839, during the government of Sir Wm. Colebrooke. The members are elected by ballot, and after subscribing for ten years, they become free of the library, retaining all the privileges without being called upon for payment.

The library is kept in the upper part of a large house, well adapted for the purpose, consisting as it does of two good sized apartments, with library tables, covered with respectable green cloth, and pamphlets of all sorts and sizes; the sides of the room are lined with bookcases. Altogether it is an admirable society, and I strenuously advise all inhabitants of Antigua, whose ideas are not absolutely tied down to “profit and loss,” to become members; they cannot spend their spare money more agreeably, nor while away their leisure to better purpose.

CHAPTER XXII.

Early rising and “Jamie Thomson”​—​Journey to English Harbour​—​Windmills and Don Quixote​—​Groups of negroes and their equipages​—​All Saints’ chapel of ease​—​The “Hamlet”​—​Village of Liberta​—​Grace Hill​—​Patterson’s and Prince William​—​English Harbour market​—​Streets and dwellings​—​Commissariat’s store and government tank​—​Dockyard​—​The superintendent​—​Stores and storehouses​—​Engineer’s workshop​—​Blacksmith’s shop and blowing machine​—​Limes and roses​—​Recollections of England​—​Lieutenant Peterson and Lord Camelford​—​His lordship’s pranks​—​The ordnance​—​Clarence House and Dows Hill​—​The Ridge and “Shirley heights”​—​Fort Charlotte and Fort Berkeley​—​Bats Cave​—​The Savannah and its tombs​—​Indian Creek​—​Return to town.

The church clock proclaimed the hour of five, as a gentle rap came at my chamber door. Awakened from a pleasant dream, I started from my couch, and heard with something like vexation, that it was time to dress, in order to prosecute our intended journey to English Harbour.

Beautiful as is the breath of “early morn,” still there is something very disagreeable in leaving your comfortable bed, and it may be, your gorgeous dreams, for the dull realities of life, and the necessary, but irksome duties of the toilet. I know I shall be cried down by all lovers of Nature for my unsentimental remarks. Thomson, enraptured with his subject “of early rising,” exclaims with all a poet’s fervour—

Falsely luxurious, will not man awake,
And, springing from the bed of sloth, enjoy
The cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour,
To meditation due and sacred song?
For is there aught in sleep can charm the wise?
To lie in dead oblivion, losing half
The fleeting moments of too short a life—
Total extinction of th’ enlighten’d soul!
Or else to feverish vanity alive,
Wilder’d, and tossing through distemper’d dreams,
Who would in such a gloomy state remain
Longer than nature craves—when every muse
And every blooming pleasure wait without,
To bless the wildly devious morning walk.”

Now, all this sounds very pretty​—​very romantic indeed; and we begin to fancy the poet amid some “bosky dell,” or upland lawn, his shoes liberally bedewed with those glittering gems, which “hang in every cowslip’s bell,” and his unpowdered locks streaming behind him in the morning gale. But stay, gentle reader! hast thou not heard that Thomson was himself a very sluggard, and loved his warm bed far better than any sylvan scene he could so well describe? And in truth, many and many a poet, even to “Joanna Bailey,” the morning rhymester, has been of the same mind. Then, why should I not tell the truth, and own my sloth​—​although at the same time, when once abroad, no one feels the nameless “melodies of morn” more than I do.

But to resume my subject: the incidents of a day’s journey to English Harbour. After partaking of a light breakfast, and quaffing of that cup “which cheers, but not inebriates,” we stepped into the phaeton, and drove through the town, leaving our friends in “Scotch-row” busily employed in arranging their incongruous goods to the best advantage.

The day was very favourable to our undertaking, for it was fine, but overcast. The sun was robbed of his extreme lustre by the intervention of various clouds, which passed along the sky in many beautiful forms. Some dark as ebon night; others of a silverish grey; the eastern ones tinged with gold and purple; while some again looked so white and fleecy, that you could fancy them so many snow-wreaths spread out upon an ocean of blue. The lights and shadows, too, of the far mountains, with all their blended tints, were beautiful objects in the landscape; and the occasional sight of a herd or two of cattle, standing in their usual dreamy posture, completed the picture. We passed several windmills (used in grinding the sugar-cane) with their sails unfurled, and going round merrily in the breeze; but unlike Don Quixote, I took them not for so many giants, nor wished myself a knight-errant, that I might rescue the “beautiful and high-born damsels” from their clutches.

The road to English Harbour is, however, for the most part dull and uninteresting; only here and there a pretty prospect attracts the eye. But on this day (Monday^[84]) it was rendered more cheerful by the groups of negroes, who, of every age and sex, were coming into town to purchase their weekly stores. Baskets, trays, and boxes​—​all kinds of vessels, indeed​—​were placed in critical positions upon their heads; but this appeared to cause no impediment to their ambling gait, while the chatter and song among themselves, and the smile and courtesy as they passed us, with the accustomed “How d’ye, massa?” “How d’ye, missis?” shewed that they considered their errand as one of pleasure rather than of toil. Carts were also put into requisition by the more extensive purchasers; some drawn by a ragged Canadian pony, similar to the little Sheltie breed; others by a tall grim-looking American horse, with its bones sticking out as bare as “Rozinante’s;” and others again dragged along by a slight-made Creole, its mane and tail the colour of flax. Cattle carts were also bringing in loads of sugar, drawn by six miserable-looking oxen two abreast, their poor necks weighed down by the heavy wooden yokes.

In one part of the road we passed All Saints’ chapel of ease, belonging to the parish of St. John’s. It is a very plain building, surmounted by a gothic pinnacle, answering the purpose of a steeple, with an aperture in the middle, intended, I suppose, for the admission of a bell.

After passing a ruined estate, where the long grass grew upon the walls of a roofless building, once used as a boiling house, and accomplishing a steep descent, and one or two abrupt turnings in the road, we came to a cluster of houses, known by the title of “the hamlet.” Many of these rural dwellings are very neatly built of native stone; and their little gardens appear to be well stocked with the country produce, such as potatoes, peas, eddoes, arrowroot, &c. A short distance from the hamlet is another similar collection of dwellings, bearing the name of “the village of Liberta,” (as a painted board informed us,) and equally abundant in its bright green patches of edibles. The emancipation of the negroes, and their desire to possess a portion of the soil in perpetuity, gave rise to these villages, of which there are many in different parts of the island. Here they erect small houses, and plant ground provisions. Some of these little dwellings are very neatly constructed, being raised a little distance from the ground, and the front door graced with a flight of steps and a small portico, while the open windows are furnished with white curtains.

Adjoining the “village of Liberta,” lies the Moravian settlement of Grace Hill, snugly ensconced in its leafy fence, and, like other settlements of the kind in this island, breathing an air of happy tranquillity.

Leaving Grace Hill, and travelling on some distance, we arrived at an estate called Patterson’s, belonging to the Hon. John Athill, and celebrated in Antiguan history, as being the spot where the murder of the governor’s child was perpetrated, (already narrated in the legend of Ding a Ding Nook,) on the occasion of the abduction of his lady in 1640. The “great house” upon this estate was honoured by a visit from our late lamented monarch, William IV., who in 1798 passed a night there.

We here once again came within sight of the sea, which greatly added to the attractions of the scene, while on our left hand rose Monk’s Hill, surmounted by its fortifications, and strewed in some parts with ruined Carib’s houses. Passing through the town of Falmouth, we gained a kind of marsh, dotted over with clumps of aquatic shrubs, and here and there opening to the sea, and in a few moments entered the village of “English Harbour.” The market is just at its entrance, and consisted, upon the day we visited it, of about ten or twelve persons, squatting on the ground, and having before them shallow wooden trays, containing a few country vegetables, a miserable-looking chicken or two, a few strings of strong-scented fish, a store of sun-burnt bread, and other similar luxuries!

The houses are in general of very mean construction, and destitute of paint. There are, however, some very pleasant residences belonging to the crown, from which beautiful sea-views may be obtained; for the village is built along the margin of the sea, and in some parts the waves come rippling up to the very street, and wet the feet of the passengers. Dogs and ducks were enjoying themselves in the water,​—​the former dashing in and out, and rolling in the sand, while the latter, with their eyes almost closed, were resting upon their glassy couch, in all the luxury of idleness.

Before entering the dockyard, we passed the commissariat stores; and on the opposite side of the road, a large tank, capable of containing 240 tons of water, built by the legislature for the use of the shipping, but from which the inhabitants of the village are allowed to draw water, the dockyard being so well supplied with those necessary reservoirs. This tank bears many a sculptured name; among the rest, that of “Nelson,” that laurel-crowned hero, who visited Antigua in 1784.^[85]

A pair of strong, well-secured gates guard the entrance to the dockyard; which being thrown open, we drove in, and alighted at the office of the superintendant of the establishment, preparatory to inspecting the accommodations of the place.

The dockyard consists of two separate departments. The first, since entitled St. Helena, was commenced in 1726, during the administration of John Hart, Esq., and at the suggestion of Capt. Francis Cooper, commander of H. M. S. “Lynn,” and Capt. Arthur Del Garno, commander of H. M. S. “South Sea Castle.” These experienced and clever naval officers saw the advantage of having proper wharfs, &c. for careening ships in Antigua, instead of being obliged to despatch the vessels appointed to this station, to the northern colonies, when any repairs were necessary, as they had before been in the practice of doing. The land chosen, as being most applicable to the purpose, consisted of two portions, of ten acres each, which in 1718 had been granted to Joseph Green, and William Greatrix, privates in H.M. troops, disbanded in consequence of the cessation of war. These lands were, however, forfeited to the crown by the non-settlement of them, by the grantees; and they were consequently appropriated to the purpose of establishing a dockyard, which is now not to be equalled in this part of the globe.

This establishment having proved of such advantage to Antigua, and the rest of the Leeward Islands, his majesty, George II., ordered that another wharf, with magazines, stores, and other appendages, should be constructed. Accordingly, in 1743, a tract of land was purchased from Thomas Bodkin; five acres of which was to be appropriated for the site of the new naval buildings; and the remainder to be allotted to poor white settlers, at the discretion of the commander-in-chief, the council, and assembly of Antigua. Such was the origin of the village of English Harbour, which, on account of being principally crown property, is disfranchised.

The dockyard presents a fine and noble appearance; and under the able superintendence of Joseph Hart, Esq., everything seems to be conducted in the best possible manner; while the yard itself is kept so beautifully clean, that a walk through it affords real pleasure. The exertions of Mr. Hart may perhaps be better appreciated when it is considered that only six labourers are allowed him to perform all necessary duties; and that these men are also liable to be called upon by the pilot, at a moment’s notice, whenever that officer is employed in piloting vessels of war in or out of the harbour.

The storehouses upon St. Helena are principally used for storing coals, and in consequence, her majesty’s steam-vessels frequent more that side of the dock. The largest ships of war (that visit these seas) can go alongside this wharf when necessary.

On the south of St. Helena lies “Freeman’s Bay,” where such of H. M. vessels as are intended to remain but a short time generally anchor; the offing being more readily gained from thence than when further in.

The last-erected part of this naval establishment, or “the dockyard,” as it is more generally called, is separated from St. Helena by the blue waters of the dock, and contains various buildings, of which I shall first mention the commissioner’s room, and pay offices, (under one roof,) as that was the first place I visited. The commissioner’s room is a very pleasant apartment, with windows to the east and west, and folding-doors to the south opening upon a small stone terrace, with a flight of steps leading to the wharf beneath. From this terrace a delightful view may be obtained. St. Helena lies exactly opposite, its warehouses reflected in the clear, blue sea, which flows at your feet; on your left, Clarence House, and the adjacent country; while, on your right, the mouth of the harbour, guarded with its forts, and the blue ocean, with its snowy crested waves, blends with the sky in the distance. In the apartment itself are considerable quantities of Psalters and New Testaments, designed, I suppose, for the use of the naval seamen; but those annoying pests, the cock-roaches, have made sad work with the bindings. Leaving this room, we walked into the pay offices, divided by blue railings, into the commissioner’s office, master shipwright’s office, master attendant’s office, and storekeeper’s office; as the several white-lettered inscriptions informed me. These paying offices are all contained in one apartment, measuring about 8 feet by 4 feet. They must not be corpulent persons who occupy them, or they will be less at their ease than poor “Hudibras” was in the “Wooden Bastile.”

Descending another flight of stone steps, we crossed part of the yard, and arrived at the naval officers’ quarters, a very pleasant and handsome building, along which runs a pretty verandah, commanding a similar view to that obtained from the terrace of the commissioner’s room. Underneath these quarters, is the principal tank, divided into twelve compartments, and capable of containing 1000 tuns of water. From this tank pipes pass under-ground, to the edge of the wharf, (a distance of a hundred feet,) which being furnished with a cock, the water can be turned into the casks at pleasure; or, when in great haste, another pipe is fixed from thence into the hold of the ship, which in this manner receives its proper allowance of water, at a distance of 100 feet from shore.

A few paces from the officers’ quarters, stands a large building, 100 feet by 90 feet, used as a copper, steamer’s, and lumber store; attached to which are four semi-circular tanks, capable of holding ten tuns of water each. Passing from this, we came to the cordage, sail, canvass, and clothing store, of a similar size; and opposite to which, at the distance of about ten feet, is the working mast-house, (100 feet square,) and joiners’ loft above. In this building a party of men were busily employed in making a new mast for H. M. schooner, “Fair Rosamond,” which, having met with an accident, a few days before, had put into Antigua to repair. Parallel with this building is another working mast-house, and joiners’ loft above, of similar dimensions to the former, used also for the accommodation of the yard engines.

Peeping into a snug little box, called the porter’s lodge, and passing the guard house, store for condemned articles, and paint store, we entered the boat-house. By this time the sun had gained its meridian height, and poured a blaze of light over the whole yard, which, reflected from the white, sandy ground, dazzled my eyes with its powerful radiance, and oppressed me with its excessive heat. As I entered then this building, how delightful did its cooling air strike upon me!​—​how sweet was the breeze which passed over my brow, and allayed its throbbing! while the gentle plash of the water sounded most musically to the ear. One part of the boat-house is floored; the other has a channel cut in it to the depth of 18 feet, for the admission of the water. The roof is supported by 16 round stone pillars, of 12 feet in circumference; and above is a loft, where ships’-sails are kept. Leaving the boat-house, we entered the tar and block stores, where we found a part of the crew of the “Fair Rosamond” employed in making spun-yarn, used for the purpose of lashing, &c.

About 20 feet distant, is a building containing painter’s cabin for grinding paint, and the engineer’s office, beneath is a lead cellar. We next visited the engineer’s workshop, where we were agreeably entertained with seeing the cutting and punching machine put into motion. I am not engineer enough to describe this machine in a technical manner, and must therefore only remark that, by means of an oblong wheel, if I may be allowed the expression, worked by two men, it is capable of cutting through the thickest piece of cold iron, with the same ease and quickness a person would cut a scrap of paper, and at the same time, punching holes of about the diameter of a shilling through another piece of the same metal. We also saw a turning-lathe capable of turning any description of iron from three inches to 28 in diameter. There were also innumerable machines, of other forms, and for various purposes, which were put into motion for our amusement; and a piece of the iron, which had been cut and punched in divers figures, was tendered to me​—​a memento of an engineer’s workshop in a West Indian dockyard.

The next place we entered was one more suited to a hyperborean climate than an Antiguan noonday​—​a blacksmith’s shop. Here, six forges can be worked; and several Cyclops ply their skill amid their dingy implements. To these forges, immense bellows “turned their iron mouths,” and, impelled by swarthy hands, sent forth a shower of glittering sparks. We also saw, two patent blowing machines, manufactured by “Thomas, late Halley and Co.,” which, by a peculiar arrangement, propels the blast upwards and downwards at the same time. The master blacksmith worked them for a few moments, but informed us they had not so much power as the first pair of bellows we observed upon our entrance, which, from its magnitude, ought to be called the “King of the Bellows.” He bid us place ourselves before the mouth of this last-mentioned pair, and we should be convinced of the truth of his assertions; but as I felt no wish to be blown away in a gale of ashes, I declined the invitation, humbly subscribing to his superior knowledge in such matters. I could not help thinking, that had Eolus known the use of these “blowing-machines,” what a far more powerful wind he might have raised, than (as it is pictured he did) by employing the sons of Astræus to blow so painfully with their distended cheeks amid his mighty caverns.

Leaving the blacksmith’s shop, we passed the sawpit shed and smaller tank, and the shipwright’s house, and then turning an acute angle, came to a very pleasant residence, occupied by the superintendent of the yard, Mr. Hart. Here I met with some of my favourite lime-trees, their pearly flowers redolent with perfume. Mr. Hart kindly plucked for us some of the golden fruit; and afterwards presented, what was dearer to me, from the recollections they call up, three beautiful roses.^[86] I may be laughed at for being so fanciful, but I never see a rose, I never inhale its rich fragrance, without wandering in imagination through the flowery gardens of my own land. “Oh! England, my own dear country! never did one of thy children love thee better than I do! In the midst of sickness, in the midst of suffering​—​when the fervour of a tropical sun burns through my very frame, and the climate throws its languor around me​—​my mind still reverts to thy verdant fields, I see again thy hawthorn-hedges with all their snowy blossoms, thy carpeting of lovely lowly flowers,​—​I breathe thy countless odours,​—​I hear thy sweet-toned birds, or the soft chime of thy village bells, and feel upon ‘my very cheek thy bland and healthy breeze.’”

But to return to Mr. Hart and his roses. I kept them through the hot day, bore them in safety to my home, and they now stand before me. But, alas! their beauty is all gone,​—​their discoloured leaves seem to mourn their own dishonour; and only that “the scent of the roses hangs round it still,” I should scarcely know what the vase contains.

After resting in a cool apartment for some time, and taking a glass of lemonade which Pomona herself would not have refused, the carriage was ordered to the door, and we were in the act of stepping in, when it occurred to us that this was a good opportunity to visit the spot where Lieut. Peterson received his death wound.

I have already mentioned, in the historical part of this work, this unfortunate incident, but, with the permission of my readers, I must again allude to it. At the time of the occurrence, Lord Camelford commanded the “Favourite,” sloop of war, and Commodore Fahie the ship “Perdrix,” Mr. Peterson holding the rank of first lieutenant on board the last-named vessel. Commodore Fahie had left Antigua a short time before, to take temporary command of the fleet, then anchored before St. Kitts,^[87] and during his absence, Lieutenant Peterson was, of course, left in command of the “Perdrix.”

It was the custom, in those troubled days of warfare, for boats to row backwards and forwards across the harbour during the hours of night, the sailors of the different ships in the dock, headed by one of their officers, taking it by turns to keep this watch; and the sleeper might often be roused from his dreams as the deep-toned all’s well resounded through the still night air.

Lord Camelford and Lieutenant Peterson were unhappily at variance; and, perhaps to mortify his rival, Lord Camelford ordered Mr. Peterson to take the watch upon the very evening that a gay ball was to be given at Blacks Point to the naval officers. Unfortunately Lieutenant Peterson entertained the idea that as he was in command of the ship “Perdrix,” in the absence of Commodore Fahie, he was superior officer to Lord Camelford, who only commanded a sloop; and, in consequence of this false impression, he positively refused to obey his lordship’s orders.

The disastrous evening approached, and the lieutenant retired to his quarters above the capstan-house, in order to dress for the festive party. Arming himself with a pair of loaded pistols, and telling his boat’s crew to attend him, Lord Camelford quitted his retirement, and stationed himself directly between the capstan house and the guard house, (now called the commissioner’s house,) and there waited the approach of Mr. Peterson, whom he had already summoned to attend him.

Upon the unfortunate young officer making his appearance, accompanied by some of his friends, his lordship again commanded him to take charge of the watch for the evening​—​the command was again refused​—​when, taking one of the pistols from his bosom, Lord Camelford immediately fired, and the ball passing through the breast of the brave, but inconsiderate lieutenant, he fell a corpse upon the ground, the deadly stream welling from the wound, and staining, as it flowed, the gay ball-dress which he wore.

No sooner did the well-aimed weapon do its work, than, drawing the other from its resting-place, his lordship turned to the second lieutenant of the “Perdrix,” and pointing it at him, asked if he would obey his orders, or meet the same punishment as Mr. Peterson? Life is sweet! The second in command saw his friend stretched at his feet with the red blood gurgling around him, and fearing the same fate, he obeyed Lord Camelford, and took the watch.

Oh, duty! what a stern goddess thou art! or else how much art thou belied, for the deed was laid to thy charge. He disobeyed his superior officer, and in the midst of health, of buoyant feelings, and without, perhaps, time to think of a hereafter, he was to die. I can never more pass those sunken anchors which mark the tragic spot, without thinking of the mournful fate of this self-deceived mutineer, poor Lieutenant Peterson, or fancying I can see him in his death throes, stretched upon that sandy ground by the hand of him who had been once his friend.

This circumstance was not the only one that caused Lord Camelford’s name to be well known in Antigua. Upon another occasion he went to Mr. Kitto, then superintendent of the naval-yard, and informed him he wanted certain alterations made on board the vessel of war he commanded. Mr. Kitto, in the mildest terms, acquainted his lordship that he could not oblige him, as it would be going beyond his warrant. To this refusal the angry officer made no reply, but immediately going on board his ship, he summoned his boatswain to his presence, and ordered him to provide himself with a cat-of-nine-tails, and hold himself in readiness to accompany him ashore.

In the course of a short time, Lord Camelford, the boatswain, and his mate, and a few of the crew of the “Favourite,” proceeded to the dockyard, and a message was despatched to Mr. Kitto, desiring his attendance.

Upon the arrival of the superintendent, Lord Camelford again demanded to know if he would accede to his wishes, at the same time giving a pretty broad hint that, in case of refusal, his back should be visited by the “Cat.” Mr. Kitto once more observed, “It would be going beyond my warrant,” when, as he uttered these words, at a signal from his lordship, the unfortunate superintendent was seized, and twelve dozen lashes inflicted with no unsparing hand by the boatswain of the “Favourite.”

This illegal and brutal conduct was not, however, passed over; a complaint was laid against Lord Camelford, and the case was investigated at the court house. Upon the day of trial, as may be supposed, the court was thronged with spectators; the assault was proved, and bail was about to be demanded, when his lordship begged permission to retire for a short time. His request was complied with; but no sooner had he gained the outer gate of the court house, than, seizing a horse which some gentleman visitant had fastened to the iron palisading, he mounted, and rode away in direction of English Harbour as fast as the animal could be urged.

In a moment all was confusion. “The prisoner’s escaped!” was the universal cry; and as the truth became known within the court house, various were the individuals who hurried forth, mounted their horses, and joined in the pursuit. The Honourable Edward Byam was then president of the island, and with the same high spirit of equity which has ever marked that family, and unbiassed by the rank of the offender, he immediately threw up one of the windows of the court-house, and shouted​—​“A hundred pounds for his recapture​—​a hundred pounds for his head!”

On kept Lord Camelford, (almost overtaken by one of the constables, a very athletic man, of the name of White,) until at length the horse he was riding fell down from exhaustion, and obliged his lordship to take refuge in an adjoining cane-field. Upon the party who were in pursuit gaining the place of his retreat, a sudden stand was made. The rabble who had joined the party, and some of the horsemen, were stationed around the cane-field; while the constables, with a few attendants, and several dogs, entered the precincts of the field, and literally hunted the offending lord through its tangled mazes, until, overcome with fatigue, and unarmed, he was taken by his pursuers.

In the escape, Lord Camelford’s hat had fallen off, and he was therefore placed upon a horse bareheaded; and in this manner, surrounded by the officials, and followed by all the riff-raff of “St. John’s and its environs,” he was brought back, and once more placed before the court. Lord Camelford was ordered to find bail for his appearance at the sessions. The amount of his recognisances was 5000l.; Walter Colquhoun and Walter Riddle, Esqs., standing sureties for his forthcoming. Upon his lordship’s return to English Harbour, he drew bills for the amount, (for which his sureties would have been liable by his departure, had he not taken this precaution,) and then proceeded on board his ship “Favourite,” made sail, and quitted the shores of Antigua, with no very enviable feelings, it is to be supposed.

The forfeited money was devoted to the purpose of sinking wells, (or springs, as they are termed in the West Indian idiom,) for the accommodation of the inhabitants of St. John’s; and accordingly, a party of negroes were employed to prosecute the work.

They commenced their labours at the head of the town, opposite to where the Scotch kirk is now building; but after digging to a great depth, and still finding no appearance of water, they became seriously alarmed, and unanimously refused to proceed, giving as their excuse, “that dey heard all de cocks crowing in de oder world!”

To return to the incidents of our day’s journey to English Harbour. After leaving the scene of Lieutenant Peterson’s death, we once more walked round by the superintendant’s residence, admiring as we went the neat manner in which the ponderous anchors and various-sized buoys were arranged; and then bidding the dockyard farewell, proceeded on our way to the Ridge, which, as its name implies, is the upper ground of a gentle ascent, appropriated to the erection of barracks, and other military establishments, for the accommodation of her majesty’s troops. Before I proceed to describe the rest of the Antigua “lions,” I must be allowed to remark, that, although in my life I have visited many public buildings in England, as well as in other parts of the globe, I never met with more politeness, from the lowest to the highest of the officials, than I experienced at this English Harbour naval establishment.

A few paces from the dockyard, on the road to the Ridge, we passed the ordnance, consisting of two separate departments, divided from each other by an arm of the sea​—​one used as a store-place for guns and balls, the other for the reception of powder. These deadly weapons were so neatly arranged, the different sizes forming different tiers, and the balls were so prettily packed in the form of pyramids​—​the day was so fine, the sea so blue, and the buildings themselves so spruce, in their uniform of light yellow picked out with black, that I was quite enraptured with the picture​—​forgot the use they were intended for, nor thought how many heart-broken wives and desolate orphans had wept, with tears like blood, the carnage such instruments had effected.

The road wound up the ascent, which is continued until the Ridge is gained. On one side stands a very pretty residence, known as “Clarence House,” belonging to the queen, and one of the dwellings the superintendent of the naval yard has under his control; and on the other side of the road rises “Dow’s Hill,” surmounted by the country-seat of the governor. In this part of the road, a stone, marked with an anchor, points out the boundary of the naval ground; and on the other side of the stone, the land appropriated to the military commences.

Still following the ascent, in process of time we gained the engineers’ quarters, the first building which marks the Ridge; and opposite to it is the victualling office. Passing by the officers’ quarters, the barracks for the privates, the several storehouses, and the iron hospital, for the reception of invalid soldiers, we stood upon the utmost verge of the place bearing the title of Shirley Heights, so named after one of the former governors, Sir Thomas Shirley, Bart. A very beautiful view may be obtained from this spot, well worthy of a painter’s study. Hills and dales clothed in tropical luxuriance; rocky precipices and lonely glens, where nature sits enthroned; steep mountains and ample solitudes, that look as if the foot of man never disturbed their primeval silence; and gentle slopes, dotted here and there with neat-looking dwellings. Below, on your right, lies the dockyard, with its uniform buildings, and the lovely harbour, forming a complete basin, encircled with its white sands; while beyond, the ocean presents one level sheet of burnished gold, over which the fishing-boats were gaily bounding, and throwing the shadow of their simple sails and slender masts far before them. The mouth of English Harbour, which is 113 fathoms across, was formerly defended in times of warfare by an immense iron chain. That, however, is now no more; but the staples by which it was secured still remain in the massive rocks, to prove the truth of this assertion. It is now protected by two forts placed on each side of the opening: Fort Charlotte, mounted with four guns, 18 and 24 pounders; Fort Berkley, mounting twenty-four guns. At the latter fort is a magazine.

After leaving the Ridge, we turned down a slight declivity, by the victualling offices, on our way to Bat’s Cave, and the Savannah. Our road lay through groves of loblolly, manchineel, and acacia, which, twining their long arms together, formed various natural colonnades; while the ground was strewed with their matted leaves, in all stages of decay. Having alighted, we walked through the interwoven path, carefully avoiding as we went the different varieties of cactus, which spring up on all sides, and guarding our faces from the long sharp thorns of the acacia, and the boughs of the poisonous manchineel. The ground, rugged and broken, was plentifully sprinkled with disrupted portions of spar, which glittered in the sunbeams like so many gems, and put me in mind of Sinbad’s walk in the “Valley of Diamonds.” Immense ground-lizards were trailing their long bodies about, in search of their daily food, so amply provided for them by the great Benefactor of all; while others were basking upon these dazzling fossils, to imbibe the heat of the meridian sun.

After taking many devious routes among the impending bushes, in order to discover the wished-for cavern, I was well pleased to hear the cheerful voice of our pioneer shouting forth “Come this way; I’ve found the right path.” Scrambling, as best we could, over a huge bed of prickly pear, (one of the cactus family,) we gained an opening in the copse, and stood before the mouth of the cave. Two large trees, which grew on each side, extended their gnarled roots (from which the earth had been washed) across the opening, forming natural steps, by which we descended, and stood within the cave.

Huge masses of the rock which forms the cavern have fallen in, and in great measure blocked it up, so that it now only presents an arena of about 50 feet in circumference, although in time past it was of considerable extent. From the main cavern, two passages branch off in opposite directions. They are perfectly dark, the only means of exploring them being by the use of flambeaux; but to what length they extend has never been discovered. Mr. McLane, a late resident of English Harbour, (now of Canada,) has made several attempts to that purpose, all of which proved fruitless; the greatest distance he ever proceeded was to the extent of two sea-lines, about 120 yards. The only known occupants are bats, which breed there in immense numbers, and often attain the size of a common pigeon. A dank unhealthy vapour is emitted from these openings, proceeding, no doubt, from the carbonic acid gas they contain. This vapour soon extinguishes the light of a torch, which is one reason this cavern has never been further explored.^[88] A streak of dark green runs down one side of the cave, which was pointed out to me as indicating the existence of copper; but upon examining a portion of the rock I brought away with me, I found that the colour was occasioned only by a vegetable substance adhering to the stones.

In former times, Bat’s Cave was a great place of concealment for the tribes of erratic Caribs, when visiting Antigua on their predatory excursions; and tradition still points it out as the scene of a barbarous carousal among that wild and savage race, in one of their attacks upon this island. As, however, I am now giving the narration of a day’s journey, I will proceed to mention the other spots we visited, and leave the Legend, which is rather lengthy, for the next chapter.

Emerging from “Bat’s Cave,” and wending our way amid the same rugged impediments, in process of time we reached our vehicle, and stepping into it, proceeded to visit the ruins of the old government house in the Savannah, the scene of the attack narrated in the “Legend of Ding a Ding Nook,” and of a similar attempt in 1654. After driving for a short distance over pasture land, exhibiting a dreary view of brown and withered herbage, the effects of the late dry weather, (rendered more striking by the contrast of the deep green of the different trees,) which crackled under the horses’ feet, we arrived at another tangled maze of shrub and brushwood, where it was again necessary to proceed on foot, in order to prosecute our intended search. Forcing our way through this almost impenetrable thicket, rendered in some places more impervious by the twinings and intertwinings of the withe, (a native parasite,) stooping to avoid some straggling branch, or springing over a thorny bank, we gained an open glade; and walking up the gentle acclivity, stood by the side of the ruins.

They consist of what appears to have been a cistern, probably the first built in the island, and a low wall of stone, marking the foundation of the government house. Within this last-mentioned ruin stand two tombs, the inscriptions upon which are as follows:—

Antigua.
Here lieth the body of Mrs. Elizabeth Warner,
Late wife of Edward Warner,
Of this island, Esq.
She was a woman of exemplary piety;
She was the best of wives,
The tenderest of mothers,
The faithfulest of friends,
And of a most charitable, compassionate disposition,
Whose death was generally and deservedly lamented
By the good people that knew her.
She departed this life the thirteenth of August,
1723,
In the 37th year of her age.

Here lies the body of
Mr. Henry Warner,
Who died on the 17th day of Sept, 1731,
In the 39th year of his age,
Much beloved and lamented
By all that knew him.
In memory of whom, his
Affectionate brothers, Edward and
Ashton Warner,
Erected this Monument.

About these tombs grew many a sweet and fragile flower, and many a gaily painted butterfly hovered around, and sported in the blaze of the “great luminary;” while the “Turk’s caps” (another species of cactus) shewed their crimson crests in all directions. A broken bottle, the relic of some former maroon (fête champetre) lay upon one of the tombs​—​not more fragile or fickle in its nature than the mouldering dust which slept beneath, or those who in the heyday of life stood looking on.

Leaving the tombs and ruins to their usual solitude, we retraced our steps; but in doing so, I could not help thinking that the name “Savannah” was misapplied, or Dr. Johnson was wrong in his etymology, for I am sure there is wood in abundance of one kind or the other. A great number of wild cattle inhabit this part of the country, deriving, it is said, a plentiful supply of nutriment from the herbage found there.

On our return to English Harbour, along the same road, we had a glimpse of “Indian Creek,” so famous in “story,” which meanders through verdantly-decked shores in a picturesque manner. It derives its name from an engagement which took place upon its banks, between a party of Caribs, (or Indians,) narrated in the following “Legend.”

Once more entering the village of English Harbour, we proceeded to the house of W. C. Brooks, Esq., where we rested for some time, experiencing those nameless acts of hospitality for which the Antiguans are noted; and where I willingly laved my burning temples with the fragrant “Eau de Cologne.” Really, this marching and counter-marching, beneath a tropical sun, is no slight matter, let my readers think as they may. “Sol” visits the face with many a fiery mark, and if he kisses, he leaves his sting behind. I felt glad when we once more took our way to town; and although no lovely moon was abroad,

“——the floor of Heaven
Was thick inlaid with patines of bright gold,”

which sufficed to light us gloriously on our way, and bring us in safety to Spring Gardens.

CHAPTER XXIII.

ZULMIERA, THE HALF-CARIB GIRL.

A Legend of the Savannah.

The sun was rapidly sinking in the west, but its declining beams only threw upon every object a richer tone of colour, as a party, consisting of three persons, emerged from a small shrubbery, and halted upon the brow of a shelving hill.

The foremost of the party was a man who probably verged upon the mellow age of fifty; but his eagle-eye, and stalwart frame, told that his years sat light upon him. He was what would have been termed a handsome man; but a supercilious curl of his upper lip, and an expression of scornful indifference, which, though apparently suppressed, lingered in his dark hazel eye, added to a brow furrowed by deep lines, and compressed by slumbering passions, which only waited the spur of the moment to be called into action, detracted from the otherwise agreeable character of his features, and effectually forbid any approach to familiarity. A deep and unsightly scar, the effects of a sabre-cut, which, commencing from the right ear, traversed the jaw, injured yet further his good looks. He was habited in a complete suit of black velvet, of the richest texture; the sombreness of which was in some measure relieved by diamond clasps, and small knee-buckles of the same costly stones. A small collar of the finest lawn made its appearance above the doublet; and a black-sheathed “Andrèa Ferrara,” with basket hilt, dangling from his side, and calf-skin boots, completed his costume. This dress, fitting tight to his shape, shewed to advantage the large but perfect symmetry of his person; while the dark brown hair, sprinkled here and there with the grey badge of declining years, cropt close around his temples; and the steeple-crowned hat peculiar to his sect and times, bespoke him, what he was, the friend of Cromwell​—​the roundhead governor of Antigua.

The next person that gained the open ground was Bridget, the beautiful daughter of the governor. If ever there was a personification of extreme loveliness, it was known in Bridget. Scarcely seventeen, her slight but rounded figure, and her sweet, mild face, while it struck the beholder with admiration, and riveted his attention, gave the idea of some embodied sylph. Her complexion was of that ethereal tint of which the poet says—

“Oh, call it fair, not pale.”

The lily could scarcely outvie it in purity of colour, although every emanation of her guileless heart called up the latent rose-tint into her delicate cheek; while the small, pouting lip, with all the rich glow of the coral, forbid effectually the supposition of ill health. A slightly aquiline nose, a classically-formed and dimpled chin, with a fair and open forehead, in which every azure vein could be traced, were the prominent features; blended with that mingled sweetness, that feminine grace, and that inexpressible something, which really and actually constitutes beauty. But her eyes​—​those soft, lovely eyes​—​look at them, as she raises the long lashes, and you can fancy, that were her features devoid of any pretensions to comeliness, those liquid orbs would richly compensate for all. Of the clearest hazel, every glance that fell from them spoke the inmost feelings of her soul; and whether they beamed forth in pity, or flashed with animation, they equally bespoke the benevolence of her nature.

Puritan as her father was, he did not deny his daughter, any more than himself, the use of a few ornaments; and a bandeau of pearls fastened around her graceful head vainly endeavoured to restrain the abundant tresses of her soft, glossy, brown hair, which, breaking loose, floated upon her shoulders in natural ringlets. Her dress of dove-coloured satin flowed in rich and ample folds to her feet, from whence the little slipper peeped forth; and, gathered around her slender waist by a girdle of pearls, shewed the admirable proportions of her figure. The stiff puritan ruff of lawn, in which every plait could be counted, screened her neck; but around her small white throat was fastened a carcanet of her favourite gems, not purer in tint than her own fair skin. A wimple of the same colour as her dress, and lined with pale rose tiffany, was tied under her little rounded chin, but which, in the joyousness of her nature, she had unfastened, that she might more fully enjoy the beauties of the evening.

The remaining individual that formed the trio was in every respect far different from those already described; yet, as she stood a few paces behind Bridget​—​to mark the difference in their rank, although near enough to join in the conversation​—​her lofty and commanding figure called equally for attention and admiration. The clear olive tinge of her complexion, the large black eye, which sparkled with dazzling light, and the long coal-black hair, braided and twined round and round her head, told that she was not of the same country, or the same people as her mistress. Servant​—​slave as she was​—​she looked born to command; and daring must that person be who would encounter for the second time the flash of her offended eye. Formed in a larger mould than Bridget, her figure still bore the utmost symmetrical proportions; and the rounded arm and taper fingers might have served as a model for the Goddess of Beauty: this female was Zulmiera​—​the half-Carib girl.

The mother of Zulmiera was a very beautiful Carib woman, who, in that disgraceful partition of them among the English, (after the massacre of their male friends at St. Kitts during Sir Thomas Warner’s government of that island,) fell to the share of a young Englishman, a follower of Sir Thomas Warner’s son, in his after colonization of Antigua. Xamba accompanied her master to his new residence, and there bore him a daughter; but dying soon after, the infant was brought up in the governor’s family. After the reduction of Antigua by Sir George Ayscue, and the establishment of a republican governor, in place of the opposer of Cromwell’s power, Zulmiera, who was rapidly attaining the full burst of womanhood, was, at the earnest entreaties of Bridget Everard, who was charmed with the untutored graces of the beautiful Indian maiden, promoted to the office of her companion. It must be allowed, that this appointment met not with the full approval of the governor. Violently attached to Cromwell, and bearing bitter hatred to the royalist party, and all malignants, he thought the girl had been too long nurtured in their principles to make a faithful attendant to the daughter of a republican. But Bridget was his only child,​—​a motherless girl; and stern and unbending as he was to others, his iron mood gave way before her playful caresses.

Still there was another and deep cause of dislike he had against Zulmiera. Upon further acquaintance with this Indian girl, he found her too haughty for his own arrogant spirit to deal with. Too high-minded and forgetful of her real rank as a servant, and apparently under the impression that, while attending upon her mistress, she was in fact her equal, if not her superior.

Zulmiera was, in truth, fully alive to this sentiment. She looked upon herself as the descendant (on her mother’s side) of a long line of chiefs​—​of those who had once been rulers in the land, and who had received from their swarthy subjects the homage that monarchs of a more civilized nation were wont to receive.

Thinking thus of Zulmiera, no wonder that the governor distrusted her. Nor was the girl ignorant of his opinion of her; and consequently their feelings of dislike were mutual. She knew he hated her; and he felt that in her heart she despised him. Still, she loved Bridget​—​for who could not love that mild, fair girl?​—​loved her with an intensity of fervour, unknown to the inhabitants of colder climes​—​and would have shed for her her heart’s best blood; for love and hatred were to Zulmiera all-absorbing passions. Yet there was another who held the first place in Zulmiera’s heart,​—​one that was to the half-instructed, half-Indian girl​—​her “idol god.”

But to return to the movements of the trio. Having left the concealment of the shrubbery, the whole party paused, and with different feelings gazed upon the landscape stretched before them. The slight declivity upon the brow of which they were standing, had been cleared, and was now planted with tobacco, whose broad green leaves, and delicate trumpet flowers, attracted the attention of numerous gorgeous insects. This plantation stretched to the end of a wild copse, where every native shrub and brushwood grew together with the loftier trees, and formed an almost impervious thicket. Beyond this copse, the waters of a beautiful creek, which ran a short way inland, glittered like gold in the beams of the setting sun; while on every side rose undulating hills, begirt with many an infant plantation, belonging to some of the earlier settlers. Further off, the broad ocean stretched its interminable waves, its billows sleeping in calmness; except in one part, where a long ridge of shelving rocks fretted them into motion, and caused them to send forth their angry roar.^[89]

At the bottom of the hill upon which they were standing ran a bridle-path, which, winding in and out, branched off in two directions; one passing through the populous town of Falmouth, the other extending to the shores of a beautiful harbour,^[90] where some industrious settlers were cultivating the adjoining country. Along this path a single horseman was seen slowly advancing, in the direction of the harbour. As he gained the skirts of the hill, he reined up for a moment his prancing steed, and, looking towards the party, raised his plumed hat and bent forward in graceful obeisance. The dark eyes of Zulmiera sparkled with delight, and standing, as she did, behind the governor and his daughter, unseen by them, she raised her hand and waved a return, while, at the same instant, the rosiest blush sprang to the cheeks of Bridget, and crimsoned her very throat. The horseman again bent his head, and then, replacing his hat, shook the broidered reins and galloped off in the direction he had chosen for his equestrian amusement.

Following with his eye the plumed stranger until he was lost in the intervening copse, the governor turned to his daughter, and fixing a steady, penetrating glance upon her, exclaimed, “Ha! then the young malignant’s designs appear to be more open than they were. But, mark me, daughter Bridget,” and his eye became sterner and darker as the pupil dilated with his awakening passion, and his haughty lip curled with increased scorn​—​“mark me, Bridget, sooner than I’d see thee mated with one of his malignant race, mine own hand should stretch thee at my feet a breathless corpse!​—​yea, as Jephtha slew his daughter, so would I slay thee!” The agitated and frightened girl threw herself upon her father’s breast, and, amid tears and sobs, stammered out​—​“Father​—​dearest father! think not so. Raphe de Merefield is naught to me; he never spoke to me but with the most studied politeness, and, indeed, he shuns rather than seeks my presence.”​—​“’Tis well, then, maiden​—​my suspicions are unfounded; the wolf has not entered the sheepfold to steal the tender lamb; but I have observed him lately wandering about these grounds, and I feared my daughter was the object. But listen!” and again his eye flashed, his lip trembled​—​“verily, I know that young man well​—​ay, better than he knows me​—​for his father was my neighbour and my deadliest foe!​—​and what was more, the foe of Cromwell! He it was that assisted that tyrannical man, Charles Stuart, in his escape from Hampton Court, and after aided him in his long struggles to maintain possession of a crown which had long been doomed to destruction. He it was that beggared his brother to obtain money to carry out that well-slain tyrant’s nefarious designs! And he it was that, at the battle of Naseby, gave me this ugly sign of recognition,” pointing to the scar which disfigured his cheek. “But was he not discomfited? Yea, as the dry leaf he fell. Lo! as David girded up his strength in the day of battle, so girded I up mine; and as he smote his enemies with the edge of the sword, so my trusty weapon stretched the haughty Philistine upon the ground, never to rise again! Guess, then, if thou canst, how much I love yon cavalier, who hath sucked in with his very milk the taint of papistry​—​for did not that Babylonish woman whom men call the Queen of England rear him up from his cradle? yea, and taught him all her sorceries. Had my honoured friend and master, the protector, followed my advice, this young traitor to the commonwealth would never have escaped from England to disseminate his malignant poison abroad. Cromwell should have crushed the egg before it was hatched. But verily I wax hot and am impatient, not considering the time approacheth when rebels and arch-rebels shall melt away as the hoar frost melteth before the sun. Despatches have reached me that it is Cromwell’s intention to send, in the course of a few months, a squadron against St. Domingo, and my instructions are to see that a proper troop be raised in this island to join the expedition. I am resolved that Master Raphe de Merefield be one of the gallants who shall serve in that affair; a goodly bullet-shot or, albeit, a well-applied stroke from the rapier of a Spaniard, may relieve me from his machinations; or should he refuse to fight under the banner of the commonwealth, verily, I know the malignancy of his father cleaves so closely to him, that it will only be maintaining Cromwell’s interest to have him properly secured, or we may see another revolt when we least expect it.” Thus saying, the governor walked forward a few paces, and shading his eyes from the lingering sunbeams, scanned for a few moments the scene before him.

What passed in the mind of Bridget during the foregoing conversation it is unnecessary to relate, but the emotions called up in the heart of the Carib girl while hearing her lover thus traduced were violent and various. Hate, scorn, and revenge, fired her eye, and sent a torrent of hot blood through her veins, which, rushing to her face, turned the clear olive to a fiery crimson. Yet so well was she accustomed to master her feelings, that before her young mistress was sufficiently recovered to commence another dialogue, she stood the same apparently calm being, her hands folded across her breast; and only that her eye was more dilated, and her cheek still slightly tinged, none could tell that aught had moved her.

An exclamation from the governor, who had, for the last few minutes, been intently gazing in one direction, arrested his daughter’s attention, and, gliding to his elbow, she inquired if he addressed her. “Look, Bridget,” replied her father, in a still stern, but not unmusical voice​—​“look o’er yonder grove​—​dost thou see aught moving?”​—​“Nothing, dearest father,” answered the maiden, in her own sweet tones​—​“nothing but the bland zephyr sporting amid the young green leaves, and playing its fairy music upon them.” “Foolish enthusiast! But haste, girl!​—​fetch me the wondrous instrument the lord-general gave me, and let me give yon grove a sharper look​—​methinks it contains more inmates than we wot of. I have heard of wild Indians and their deeds.”

Roused by his remarks, Zulmiera started forward, and in an agitated voice which she in vain tried to stifle, exclaimed, “Oh, no, your excellency, naught is there, save, as the Lady Bridget saith, the whispering wind or the fly-birds as they seek their leafy bower.” “Back, girl!” fiercely retorted the governor​—​“back to thy place; who taught thee to hazard thy remarks? Methinks thy cavalier masters might have made thee know thy station better.”

Again the blood rushed to the cheek and temples of Zulmiera​—​again the eye flashed fire​—​but again she mastered her emotions; exclaiming, however, as she did so, but in a voice too subdued to reach her companion’s ear, “Rest till to-morrow’s night, proud man, then wilt thou learn who governs here!”

At this moment, Bridget placed in her father’s hand the lately invented telescope,^[91] when, raising it to his eye, he narrowly observed the whole breadth of the copse; the distant creek and the farther ocean; but nothing met his eye​—​nothing, save the wavy green, or the wing of a weary sea-fowl as it sought its nest. Slowly dropping the instrument, the governor once more gazed with his naked eye in that direction. The sun had set some minutes before, and as the last of his golden beams faded in the west, he turned upon his heel, and, followed by the females, was once more lost in the verdant shrubbery.

CHAPTER XXIV.

CONTINUATION OF THE LEGEND.

It was a calm, delicious, West Indian night. The moon shone in all her glory, bathing lawn and lea, upland and woodland, in her silvery light. The waters of the creek we have already noticed were rife with beauty; and the waves of the far-off ocean, as they dashed in measured cadence on the beach, broke musically upon the listener’s ear.

A stately figure, enveloped in a dark mantle, glided from behind a screen of lime and coffee trees; and gaining the open ground, looked cautiously around. As if assured its movements were unobserved, the figure darted off at a rapid pace in the direction of a magnificent grove; but with steps so light, that it would scarcely have crushed the lowliest flower. Upon reaching the verge of the grove, it stopped; and placing a finger upon a small gittern,^[92] carried beneath the ample cloak, struck a single note. The crushing of the younger twigs and leaves told that the signal was heard; and springing from the covert, a young man bounded forward, exclaiming​—​“Zulmiera! dearest Zulmiera! how long thou hast stayed to-night!”

The moon still shone with a clear and fervent light, displaying every object in a distinct manner, and shewing the picturesque dress of the impassioned stranger to the best advantage. His figure was slight but perfectly formed, while his fair skin and glowing cheeks bespoke his Saxon origin. His eyes were of the clearest blue, and his long auburn locks, parted in the middle of his forehead, flowed over his shoulders, in length and profusion equalling a woman’s. A slight moustache shaded his upper lip, which, slightly curved, displayed a set of teeth faultless in size and colour. His dress, fashioned in that superb style which the followers of Charles loved to indulge in, consisted of a doublet of three-piled murrey-colour velvet, pinked and slashed with white satin, and ornamented with elaborate embroidery, his falling band, or collar, of the richest point lace, and his nether garments to match with the doublet, were finished at the knees with white satin roses and diamond studs. A small but admirably tempered Toledo, the hilt of solid gold, and sparkling with diamonds, was strapped to his side by an embroidered belt; while a Flemish beaver hat, looped with a diamond button, and surrounded by a snowy plume, shaded his somewhat boyish features. A dark short cloak, lined with white tafiety, which he had flung aside when springing to meet Zulmiera, floated from behind his right shoulder, and served to give him still more an air of graceful elegance.

“Dearest Zulmiera,” said the young stranger, when seated upon the trunk of a large tree, which, uprooted by a former hurricane, and slightly covered by a little alluvial earth, had shot forth a few sickly branches​—​“dearest Zulmiera, how long I have waited for you​—​how much I have to tell you! I have watched each star as it peeped forth from the heavens​—​heard the shrill pipe of the curlew as it flew to its nest​—​but listened in vain for your light footstep; say, dearest, what kept you from the trysting-tree?” “I was in attendance upon my mistress until this late hour,” replied Zulmiera, speaking in an ironical tone, and laying a strong emphasis upon the word mistress, while a slight look of scorn passed over her animated features; “or else doubt not I would have met you long before; for where, Raphe, would the bird with weary wing seek for rest but by the side of its own fond mate? or why should yon white flower,” pointing to a night-jasmine which was growing in all its wild luxuriance near the spot, and loading the air with sweet and powerful perfume​—​“why should yon white flower haste to open its pretty leaves, as soon as the day melts away, were it not to seek the fond love of those beautiful stars which are twinkling above us? Raphe, you are my mate, and your eyes are my stars, in which I read my destiny.”

To this fond but fanciful rhapsody, Raphe de Merefield made no answer, except by pressing the beautiful hand which rested in his; and the half-Carib continued: “But it was not to tell you this, Raphe, that brought me here so late to-night. Come with me.” And suffering himself to be led by her, they quitted the deep recess in which they had been seated, and walked into the open ground already mentioned.

Looking up the ascent above the tops of the trees, which grew in vast profusion, forming a complete barrier around, the moon-beams fell upon the roof of an irregular but commodious building. This was government house, and through an opening in the leafy enclosure, the light of a taper was seen brightly shining from a small diamond-pane casement, in one of the gable ends of the edifice. “In that room,” said the romantic girl, directing Raphe’s attention to it, “sleeps one, who, next to yourself, I love most on earth; and scornfully, harshly as her father has treated me, she must and shall be saved! Mark me, Raphe, an’ thou lovest me, guard the Lady Bridget as thou wouldst a sister. Wild spirits will be abroad ere the glad sun shall set and rise again, or yon pretty stars be peeping at us; and though I think they will care for mine as they would me, still, Raphe, I would have thee prepared. When all is over​—​when you and I​—​but I need say no more, except that Bridget shall not then be ashamed to love the despised, the scorned Zulmiera,” and as she spoke, she threw back her graceful head with the air of a Cleopatra, while the bright crimson mantled in her cheeks, and increased the lustre of her eyes.

“What mean you, Zulmiera?” inquired the young cavalier, as soon as he could make himself heard; for her utterance during the preceding speech had been so rapid, and her manner so excited, that all his former attempts to interrupt her had been useless. “What mean you, dearest Zulmiera? Why this flashing eye​—​this agitated mien? Is it because yon king-killing, canting Puritan, called you servant, that these wild dreams (for I know not what else to term them) are floating through your brain? Never heed him, dearest; you will soon be my bride, my acknowledged wife; and then let me see who dare call you servant, or taunt you with your birth! Know that I love one tress of this black hair”​—​and he drew her fondly towards him​—​“better than all the fair ringlets and fairer skins of England’s boasted daughters. But draw your mantle closer round you, and let us to our former seat, where I will relate to you all my plans.​—​You know,” resumed Raphe, as they gained their resting-place upon the old tree, “that after the unfortunate battle of Naseby, upon which bloody field my brave father fell, fighting for his lawful sovereign against those long-eared Roundheads, (to which sect our notable governor belongs!) my widowed mother, seized with an irrepressible panic, fled from England, carrying me, then a stripling of about fourteen, along with her. Our first place of refuge was Holland, where the queen, whose godson I have the honour to be, had sought safety some time before. But my mother, disliking the country, and having received letters from her husband’s brother, my revered uncle, whose namesake I am, offering her an asylum in Antigua, she determined to avail herself of his kindness. Thus it was I became a resident in this island; and during my frequent visits at government house, when loyalty ruled there, I met my dearest Zulmiera. You are aware, I believe, that my uncle, who was formerly a merchant of the city of London, was joined with Sir Thomas Warner in a grant of land situated in this island, the grantor of which was the martyr Charles. Upon part of that land the brother of young Phillip Warner is erecting a new dwelling, and cultivating the surrounding country. It will be a fine place when it is finished; and Warner deserves it should be, for he made a gallant defence in 1651, when old Noll sent Sir George Ayscue to reduce this island, because, forsooth, it stood out for its lawful sovereign. But to resume my story, which the brave actions of Mr. Warner drove from my head. To-day, I confided to my mother our mutual engagement ; she has listened to the voice of her only, her beloved son, and is prepared to receive you as a daughter. To-morrow, I will call upon the governor​—​although I hate the sight of him, from his high-crowned hat down to his ugly looking calf-skins​—​and make my proposals in form. If he consents with a good grace, well; if not, I feel assured my dear Zulmiera will not fear to leave his house and protection for the home and hearth of one who loves her as I do. I still hope that our own King Charles (God bless him!) may overcome his enemies, and be seated upon the throne of his fathers; then will we visit old England, and in my own paternal mansion, I’ve no doubt I shall get my handsome Zulmiera to forget her native island and all her wild dreams.” So saying, with a look of strong affection and with gallant bearing, he raised her hand to his lips.

“Oh, Raphe!” said the agitated girl, as her lover concluded his relation, to which she had listened with breathless attention; “oh, Raphe! had I known this but even ten days agone, how much might I, how much might we all have been spared. But I thought your mother would never have consented that the governor’s servant should mate with her noble son​—​and my own high spirit, goaded on as it has been by the scornful usage I have met, has led me to do a deed which may, perhaps, dash the cup of happiness from my lips. But, then,” she murmured, as if more in communion with herself than in reply to her companion, “but then to be a queen, and Raphe (they promised that, or I would never have consented) to be a king. No, it must be: I have gone too far to turn back;” and she raised her head, and looke steadfastly, but apparently half-unconsciously at the young man, who, surprised at her behaviour and language, was gazing intently upon her. At length, slightly shaking her hand to arrest her attention, he inquired again the cause of her extreme emotion. Receiving no reply from Zulmiera, whose large dark eyes were still fixed upon his face, he became seriously alarmed, and, in an anxious tone, entreated her to quit directly the night air, and seek that repose she appeared to need so much, within the precincts of government house. Allowing herself to be led in that direction, they in silence gained the shrubbery; when, after asking in vain for an explanation, and hearing her again and again express her assurance that she was not seriously indisposed, Raphe de Merefield bade her good even. As he turned to leave the spot, Zulmiera appeared to recover herself, and drawing a long breath, exclaimed “To-morrow, dear Raphe, to-morrow thou shalt know all​—​till then, farewell!”

For some moments after the departure of the young cavalier, Zulmiera remained standing in the same posture; and then, suddenly rousing herself, she gazed once more earnestly around, and finding all still, stepped without the bounds of the shrubbery, and retracing her steps, once more gained the border of the copse. She was about to make use of an arranged signal, when a dark figure came bounding over a natural mound, formed by wild plants and brushwood, and in another instant stood before her.

Near seven feet in height, and of corresponding breadth of shoulder, the stranger looked able to compete with a dozen men of ordinary growth, while his whole appearance was such as to strike terror into the heart of the beholder. Attired in a garment of dark red cloth, which only covered his person from his waist to his knees, the remainder of his body was painted in a most hideous manner. A black leathern belt, passing over his brawny shoulders, supported a huge naked broad-sword, doubtless obtained in some predatory exploit, whose edge was blunted and hacked by many a rough encounter, dangled by his side, or struck harmlessly against his naked legs. His face, the features of which were naturally good, was disfigured by grotesque colourings, and horrible scars; while his long black hair, to which was fastened small pieces of copper, brass buttons, and tufts of parrot feathers, floated behind him in matted locks, and gave him the appearance of a wandering gnome. An old regimental coat, from which part of the lace had been cut, and which was another of his war spoils, was tied around his neck by the two sleeves, serving the purpose of a cloak; and upon his breast reposed​—​a silent but melancholy memento of his habits​—​a string of human teeth, their dead white contrasting vividly with his dark skin. This stranger was Cuanaboa, the dreaded Carib chief.

Rendering to Zulmiera his simple obeisance, he commenced the conversation by remarking in a barbarous kind of dialect, “the Boyez^[93] gave the time to meet when the big star,” pointing to the moon, “rose above the hill, and the lady promised to obey; but now it’s shining o’er our heads, and the charm may be broken​—​the bow may indeed be bent, and the arrow speed on its way, and yet fall to the ground wide of the mark. We meet to-night, ’tis true; but the time the Boyez appointed is long past, and now perhaps our purpose may fail, and our enemies escape.” “Oh, no! Cuanaboa, believe not so,” replied Zulmiera; “listen not to the wild words of the old Boyez; thinkest thou I care for what he saith?” “Ay, lady, but thou art fallen from the faith of thy fathers​—​thou hast lived too long with the Christians; but it matters not now, let us talk of our plans. Myself and comrades have agreed to lead the attack upon yonder house about this time to-morrow night, and we look to you to draw from their weapons those little round stones which kill so many of us, we know not how. Guacanagari has joined me with twice so many men, (holding up his hand, and spreading out his fingers,) and as fine a canoe as ever was paddled along these seas. He landed with his party just as the sun touched the waters; an hour badly chosen by him, for too many eyes are then abroad. I hope, though, none saw them but their red brothers, for they skulked along by the thickest part of the woods; and now their canoe lies high and dry, beneath the shelter of yon high banks, while they repose in safety in the cave,^[94] attended by old Quiba. Now, lady, as, when the white men are subdued, and, falling beneath our clubs, or transfixed by our arrows, serve us as sacrifices to Mayboya,^[95] we are to look upon you as our Queen——”

“And Raphe as your king” interrupted Zulmiera, in hurried accents. “You promised that, or I would never have agreed to what I have; and had I known Cuanaboa as much as I do to-night, even that scheme of grandeur would not have tempted me to turn traitor, to promise, as I have, to open the doors, where I have lived so long, to give entrance to the enemy, and to lull their fears, while the worse than blood-hounds were upon their steps. Oh, Cuanaboa! I might have been so very happy, had I only waited in patience for a little time​—​happier as plain Mistress de Merefield, than I shall be, perhaps, as queen of the Caribbees; but it is no use repining now; I have given my word, and, right or wrong, Zulmiera will stand by it.”

The long eyelashes fell over her burning eyes, and the beating of her heart sounded audibly, and shook her very frame; but recovering herself, she continued​—​“There is another subject to be discussed, Cuanaboa; the daughter of the governor is my dearest friend, and therefore she must be preserved unharmed throughout the fray, guarded with the most scrupulous care, and I look to you to place her in safety. Dost thou comprehend what I say?”

“Yes, lady; and I was going to remark, when you interrupted me, that as you wish certain of the enemy saved alive, particularly the fair youth you mentioned just now, it would be well for you to give your orders to Guacanagari; and for that purpose I would advise you to visit the cave to-morrow evening, when we intend holding a serious assembly and dance, previous to commencing the attack. Guacanagari will be rejoiced to meet you, and he will be as fond of the maiden and the youth as I am;” and a very sinister expression, but unobserved by Zulmiera, passed over the face of the Carib chief. “Besides, lady, it is but right that Guacanagari should know his queen​—​never Carib had one before.”

“I will attend,” replied Zulmiera. “And now, as it is past midnight, ’tis time we parted;” so saying, she bowed to the Carib, and drawing her mantle around her, walked away with all the dignity of a sovereign.

Keeping his dark eye fixed upon her as long as she continued in sight, no sooner had the intervening shrubs screened her from his view, than, throwing himself upon the ground, the Carib broke into a shrill laugh. “And so the haughty beauty thinks that a people who have scarcely known control, will bend their shoulders to the dominion of a girl and a white-faced boy!​—​ha! ha! If the wild kites chose a king, would it be a colibri?^[96] No! Should the Caribs follow the custom of the strangers who have come among us, and torn away our most fruitful countries, and own a king, who should it be but Cuanaboa? for who has slain so many enemies and drunk their blood as I have? or who can shew a longer string of teeth than I have here?” and he played with the one which ornamented his neck. “If Zulmiera will be queen, it must be as my wife; and truly she would serve to swell a richer triumph than I even expect to have. But as for the youth, his race is almost run; before this time to-morrow, I think he will give me but little further trouble. ’Tis well I came so soon to-night, and thus was witness of the meeting. I wish I could have understood what he said; but these pale-faced people speak so vilely, that it is hard to know what they mean. However, it matters not, I saw enough; and as I intend Zulmiera to be my prize, I will very shortly get rid of the youngster; he’ll make a capital sacrifice to Old Mayboya. White men eat better than red people, it can’t be denied;” and as he finished his soliloquy, he arose from the ground, and springing over the brush-wood, was lost to sight in the impending copse.

CHAPTER XXV.

CONCLUSION OF THE LEGEND.

The morning after this eventful meeting rose fair and bright. Bridget and Zulmiera, seated at an open window, inhaled the sweet breeze, while they bent over their embroidery frames; and the fair Englishwoman was giving a description of her own far-off land, when, gazing in the direction of the before-named copse, Zulmiera espied a white feather glancing for a moment above the tops of the trees, a well-known signal indicating the presence of Raphe de Merefield.

Framing an excuse, she shortly left the apartment; and taking a circuitous route to escape observation, in a few moments gained the old tree, where, as expected, she found her lover.

“Zulmiera,” said the young man, after the first greetings were passed, “I have suffered deeply in mind since we parted, on account of the strange words you let fall last evening; and I now seek your presence to demand, as your affianced husband, their signification. Tell me, Zulmiera, thine whole heart, or as Willy Shakspeare saith—

“——If thou dost love me,
Shew me thy thought?”

Accosted in this sudden manner, and surprised by his serious demeanour, Zulmiera’s caution forsook her, and bursting into tears, confessed to her lover, as best she could, the following facts. Having been treated with great scorn and harshness by the governor, and looking upon herself as the descendant of a line of chieftains, and consequently entitled to respect, a deep and irresistible feeling of revenge sprang up in her breast, and absorbed her every thought. Roaming, as she had ever been wont, amid the romantic dells and leafy labyrinths of her native islands, she came one evening upon a curious cavern; her love of novelty led her to inspect it, but in the act of doing so, she was driven back in alarm by the sight of a flashing pair of eyes.

Unable to suppress her fears, yet too much overcome by the encounter to fly, she leant against the rocky opening of the cave; when, rushing from his concealment, a powerful man, whom she immediately recognised as a Carib, darted upon her, and placing his hand upon her mouth to prevent her screams from being heard, was about to bear her away as his captive.

Terrified as she was, she still had the presence of mind to declare her origin, and claim his forbearance, on the score of their allied blood. To such a plea, a Carib’s heart is never deaf; the grasp upon the shoulder was relaxed; the armed warrior stood quietly by her side; and a conversation in the Carib tongue (which Zulmiera had acquired from her mother) was carried on between them.

The stranger declared himself to be a Carib chief, named Cuanaboa, and with the openness for which that people were noted among their friends, acquainted Zulmiera with the cause of his appearance in that lone cave. Following the example of his fathers, Cuanaboa said he had resolved to make an attack upon Antigua, accompanied by a neighbouring chief and their several tribes; but in a war-council held by them, it had been arranged for him to pay a secret visit to the island, in order to inspect it, and endeavour to find out its weakest parts. Accordingly, leaving his mountain home in Dominica, he had paddled himself over in a slight canoe, and easily discovering the cave, which had been well-known to the tribe in their former predatory visits, he took up his abode there.

Zulmiera listened eagerly to this communication; and excited as she was, thought it a good opportunity for effectually procuring her revenge. After arranging for the safety of Raphe de Merefield, to whom she had been long engaged, she finally promised, that upon an appointed night, she would open the doors of government house, and admit the band of Caribs. Ignorant of the real force of Antigua, and led away by her own turbulent and romantic passions, the Indian girl wrongly supposed that a few half-armed Caribs would be able to strike terror into the breasts and compete with the well-arranged ranks of the English. In consequence of this wild fancy, Zulmiera further proposed, as her reward, that when the battle was gained, and the English defeated, she should be immediately elected queen, and Raphe king of the Caribbees. Many other meetings had taken place between herself and the Carib chief; and she concluded her relation, by informing Raphe of the arrival of the whole band of Caribs, and that the hour of midnight was the time proposed for the intended assault upon government house.

The surprise, the consternation of the young man, as she unfolded this tale to him, was overpowering, and for some moments he remained as if rooted to the ground. At length, striking his hand upon his forehead, he exclaimed, in a tone of extreme bitterness​—​“Oh! Zulmiera​—​Zulmiera! what hast thou done! Surely it is some horrible dream; and yet it is too true; thou couldst not have distressed me so, an’ it had not been. To-night, sayest thou? Unhappy girl, thou hast indeed dashed the cup of happiness from thy lips! Now I understand thy visible emotion​—​thy half-smothered expressions! But I must away​—​the lives of hundreds, perhaps, hang upon my steps;” and darting from her, he left her to the deepest feelings of despair.

Leaning against the tree for the support her own limbs denied her, the unfortunate Zulmiera remained with her face buried in her hands, until aroused by the sound of footsteps. Hastily looking up, Raphe again stood before her. “Dearest Zulmiera,” said the pitying young man​—​“rouse thyself; I cannot leave thee thus; all may yet be well. I will immediately to the governor, and without implicating you as my author, inform him of the inpending attack. Much as I dislike the man, it is my proper plan​—​so now dry your eyes,” for the warm tears were again gushing down the cheeks of the repentant girl; “return to the house, keep yourself quiet, and trust the matter to me.” So saying, he imprinted a fond kiss upon her brow, and turning away, hastened with a quick step in the opposite direction.

Mastering her emotions, Zulmiera returned to her home, determined, when the evening fell, to seek the cave, and if possible, persuade Cuanaboa of the impracticability of his schemes, and by that means, prevent the effusion of blood, which a meeting of the Caribs and English was sure to produce.

In the meantime, Raphe sought the presence of the governor, and without bringing forward Zulmiera’s name, contrived to give him the necessary information, and then departed, taking upon himself the office of scout. Preparations were immediately made for the intended attack​—​ambuscades arranged, and fire-arms cleaned; and with anxiety the party awaited the rising of the moon.

As the day grew to a close, Zulmiera became more and more restless, until at length, unable to bear the conflict of her feelings, she left the house, and, unperceived by the family, sought the promised meeting in the cave. The sun had sunk behind the waves, and the stars began to peep forth, as the half-Carib gained the entrance of the wood. Carefully threading her way through its tangled bushes, and avoiding as she went the numerous impediments, she gradually progressed deeper and deeper in its thickening gloom. The air was calm, and nothing disturbed the almost pristine stillness but the whisperings of the soft breeze, or the shrill cry of some of the aquatic fowls who made that lonely grove their home. In some parts the foliage was less thick, and the beams of the now rising moon forced their way through and snorted upon the ground, forming many a fantastic shadow. Uprooted and sapless trees lay in various directions, around which parasites wound in luxuriant beauty, and hid the whitened wood in wreaths of green. In other parts, the larger trees and shrubs made way for dense thickets of thorny underwood, over which the active girl was obliged to leap.

Onward she sped, stopping only now and then to recover her breath, and then darting forward at increased speed, until, gaining a little knoll, where pointed crystals strewed the ground, and the manchineel showered its poisonous apples, beautiful and treacherous as “Dead Sea fruits,” a mark in one of the trees told her she was near the place of her destination; and winding round another thicket, Zulmiera stood before the mouth of the cave.

The interior was lighted by a few torches of some resinous wood, stuck in the fissures of the rock; and their flickering light shone upon the dark countenances and wild costume of the inmates. Branches of trees roughly plaited together were placed partly before the opening, and served to screen the light of the torches from the view of any wandering stranger; while the ground before the entrance to the cave had been cleared away, forming a kind of rustic amphitheatre.

As soon as the maiden was perceived, Cuanaboa came forward, and introduced her to Guacanagari, and a few of their principal followers, who only appeared to be waiting for her presence, to commence their solemn dance, as was ever the custom of the Caribs, before undertaking any warfare.

Darting from the cavern, about twenty of these wild warriors arranged themselves in a circle around an old woman, known among them by the name of Quiba, who, squatting upon the ground, chanted, in a monotonous voice, the burden of a war-song: the men moving slowly, and joining in the chorus​—​“Avenge the bones of your fathers, which lie whitening upon the plain!” Continuing this revolving motion for some time, but gradually increasing in celerity, they at length appeared as if worked up to the highest pitch of their passions; and releasing each other’s hands, and twirling round and round with the greatest rapidity, tearing their hair, and gnashing their teeth, at length threw themselves upon the ground, foaming with rage.

Zulmiera, terrified at their frantic movements and horrid contortions, tremblingly leant against the trunk of a tree, until, aroused by an exclamation from the old woman, she perceived another party of savages, apparently of meaner grade, bringing in large calabashes and baskets, huge pieces pf baked meats, and bowls of some kind of liquids. Placing them upon the ground, they retreated; and old Quiba, quitting her recumbent posture, seized upon one of the pieces of meat, and throwing it among the prostrate warriors, exclaimed, in a cracked voice​—​“Eat of the flesh of your enemies, and avenge your fathers’ bones!”

As she uttered these words, the men sprang from the ground, and rushing upon the viands, devoured them with savage greediness; while Cuanaboa, lifting up one of the smaller pieces of meat, approached Zulmiera, and, with harshness, requested her to eat it. Alarmed at his ferocious manner, but not daring to shew it, the trembling girl essayed to obey; and putting a portion of it into her mouth, by a strong effort swallowed it. No sooner was this effected, than, breaking into a horrid laugh, and with his eyes gleaming like the hyæna’s, Cuanaboa shouted to the old woman, who had just before entered the cave​—​“Bring forth our present for our queen; surely, she deserves it, now she is one of us!”

Startled by his evident irony, Zulmiera turned round, at the moment that Quiba emerged from a natural passage in the interior of the cave, bearing in her hand a small bundle, which, with a sardonic grin, she laid at the feet of the observant girl. “There, lady; that is our first present,” croaked forth the old hag. “Ay, lift it up, and search it well; Mayboya will stand your friend, and send you many more, I hope.” So saying, she hobbled up to one of the torches, and taking it from its resting-place, held it before the face of Zulmiera.

Impelled by an irresistible desire to know the worst, Zulmiera stooped and undid the folds of red cloth wound around their proffered gift. After untwining it for some time, the wrapping felt damp to the touch; and dreading she knew not what, she loosed the last fold, and a human head rolled upon the ground.

Uttering a cry of horror, but forced on by her unconquerable emotions, she turned the gory object round; and as the torches flashed with further glare, her eye fell upon the pallid features. The blue eye, glassed by the hand of death, and over which the starting eyelids refused to droop​—​the parted lips, parted with the last throe of agony, and shewing the pearly teeth​—​the finely-moulded cheeks, but disfigured by a deep gash​—​and the long auburn hair, dabbled with the blood that still oozed from the severed veins, bespoke it Raphe de Merefield’s! Her own blood congealed around her heart like ice​—​her pulse quivered and stopped​—​and with one unearthly, prolonged shriek, the unfortunate Zulmiera sank senseless upon the ground.

Recovered by the means of some pungent herb applied to her nostrils, by the hands of Quiba, she awoke to all her misery. Her eyes fell again upon the mutilated head of her lover; while the demoniac voice of Cuanaboa whispered in her ear​—​“The food you partook of just now was part of the body of your minion! I met him wandering in the copse a time agone; and I thought he would make a fine sacrifice to Mayboya.” This last horrible information completely altered her nature, and changed the fond loving girl to the disposition of a fiend. Lifting up the head, and imprinting upon the blood-stained lips one long fervent kiss, she enveloped it again in the wrappings of red cloth, and carefully binding it around her waist, was in the act of quitting the cave, when arrested by the powerful grasp of Cuanaboa.

“Not so fast, lady!” exclaimed the Carib chief; “remember your oath to Mayboya! We still stand in need of your assistance to guide us to the house of yon white chief. Remember that was part of your bargain: let us in; and when we have vanquished the enemy, we shall still be willing to receive you as our queen; that is, if you will agree to take me for your king instead of the pale-faced boy, whose body has served to regale us and our people.” With eyes that flashed fire, Zulmiera was about to reply, when suddenly constraining herself, she simply muttered​—​“My oath to Mayboya!​—​follow me, then!” and with determined purpose, left the cavern.

The whole party of Caribs, consisting of about eighty, were by this time gathered around the spot, armed with bows and arrows, clubs, darts, spears, and all the other rude implements of warfare. As the two chiefs made their appearance, they pointed to the moon​—​then rapidly ascending the heavens​—​and uttering a suppressed war-whoop, they commenced their march in the direction of government house, preceded by the half-Carib.

Unconscious of pain, Zulmiera darted through the thorniest thickets, turned not aside for any impediment; but borne up by the hopes of revenge, she outstripped the most active of the party. Knowing, as she did, that the inmates of government house were prepared for the attack, she felt assured that few, if any, of the Caribs would escape; but completely altered in disposition, from the effects of the horrible scenes she had gone through, she experienced no compunctious feelings for the event. Her only wish, her fixed purpose, was to possess herself of a dagger​—​stab Cuanaboa to the heart​—​drink his warm blood as it gushed forth​—​and after bathing the head of her lover with it, kill herself upon the spot. To deceive Cuanaboa, she pretended that her fear of Mayboya led her to conduct the party, an assurance which his own blind zeal for that dreaded deity caused him to believe.

In furtherance of her dreadful scheme, she carefully avoided those spots where she supposed an ambuscade of English might be stationed; fearing lest some other hand should take the life of the chief. In this manner she was gradually progressing towards the house, thinking it more probable a weapon could be there procured, when in passing a clump of trees, one of the governor’s scouts, who was stationed behind it, and who was unable to bear the sight of the Carib chief so near him without endeavouring to take his life, sprang from his concealment, and rushing upon Cuanaboa, was in the act of stabbing him with a dirk, when, with the cry of some infuriated wild animal robbed of its prey, Zulmiera was upon him. Wresting the weapon from the astonished Englishman, the maddened girl fled after the Caribs, who, abashed by this encounter, and the sudden appearance of a troop of soldiers, were flying in the greatest confusion, and at their utmost speed, in direction of the before-named creek, where they had left their canoes.

Many of the Caribs fell wounded by the way, from the fire of their pursuers’ muskets; but Cuanaboa, closely attended by Zulmiera, still kept on, until after passing over the same undulating ground, forcing their way through thickets, leaping over natural barriers, and creeping through leafy arcades, they gained upon the creek. But woe to the Caribs! a party of English, in hot pursuit, were, in fact, driving them into a trap, at the point of their weapons. Throughout this irregular and hurried retreat, Zulmiera had never dropped her dirk, or her gory burden; neither had she lost sight of Cuanaboa; while the chief, seeing her dash the weapon from his uncovered breast, when one stroke of the Englishman’s hand would have caused his death, thought she had forgiven his horrid barbarity, and was well pleased to see her nigh him.

As they emerged from the deeper glades of the wood, a volume of smoke rose above the trees; and upon gaining the open ground, the whole extent of their danger was revealed to the Caribs. There lay their canoes, a burning mass; while the foreground was occupied by another band of Englishmen, ready prepared for battle. Hemmed in on all sides, the Caribs fought with the fury of uncaged beasts, and sold their lives dearly. Many of the English were stretched upon the ground, a flattened mass, from the blows of their heavy clubs; while others, wounded by their poisoned arrows, only lived to endure further torments. Still Cuanaboa remained unhurt; and standing upon a gentle knoll, brandished his club, and dealt destruction upon the foremost of his enemies. His friends were rapidly falling around him; and as he turned to seek for refuge, Zulmiera approached him unperceived, and with one blow, drove the dirk into his very heart.

Without a groan, the Carib chief sank dead upon the earth; and Zulmiera, kneeling by him, plucked the weapon from the wound, and applying her lips, drank the warm blood as it gurgled forth! Unbinding the head of the unfortunate Raphe de Merefield from her waist, where she had carried it throughout the fray, she gazed ardently at it; tenderly parted the still bright hair, imprinted a last kiss upon the cold lips, and then taking up in her hand some of the vital stream, which was still flowing from the wound of Cuanaboa, and forming a pool around him, she bathed the head with it, exclaiming as she did so, “Raphe, thou art avenged! thine enemy lies dead before thee, slain by my hand; and thy bride, faithful in life and death, comes to share thy gory bed.”

These actions completed, she looked up. The dying and the dead lay stretched around her,​—​the conquering English were looking to their captives,​—​the last gleam of the fire was shooting upwards to the sky,​—​the moon had gained her zenith,​—​while, as if in contrast to that bloody field, the waters of the creek rolled on like molten silver, beneath her lovely beams. For one moment the wild but beautiful girl gazed upon the scene; old remembrances sprang up in her mind, and brought the tear into her eye. But dashing them away, she regained her former implacable mood; and as a party of the governor’s servants came forward to arrest her, placing one hand upon her lover’s head, she raised with the other the dirk​—​its bright steel glittered for a moment in the moonbeam​—​in the next it was ensheathed in her heart; and she fell a corpse upon that dire chief, to whom she owed all her misery.

The scene of this Antiguan tragedy may still be viewed; the creek bears the name of “Indian Creek,” while the cavern in which they held their barbaric meeting is called “Bat’s cave.” The governor retained his office until 1660, when Charles II. was restored to the vacant crown; but refusing to acknowledge his sovereign, he was superseded, and the vacant post was filled by Major-General Poyntz, a royalist, who continued to act as governor until 1663, when Lord Francis Willoughby obtained a grant of the island.

The name of Raphe de Merefield (the uncle of the young cavalier) appears with that of Sir Thomas Warner in the original grant signed by Charles I. It is still to be seen at “Stoney Hill,”​—​an estate belonging to the late Samuel Warner, president of Antigua, and a descendent of the old family. This property was willed by him to his god-son, ——— Shand, Esq., of the house of Messrs. Shand, Liverpool.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Towns: Falmouth​—​Church and churchyard​—​Mangroves and acacias​—​Black’s Point​—​Bridgetown​—​Willoughby Bay​—​Its site and decoration​—​The superintendent of the Wesleyan schools​—​School-room​—​Methodist chapel​—​The Memoras​—​St Philip’s church​—​Beautiful views​—​Parham​—​Its derivation and site​—​St Peter’s church​—​Churchyard​—​The new church​—​Methodist chapel and school-room.

In the year 1675, six towns were appointed in Antigua as places of trade​—​viz., St. John’s, Falmouth, Old Road, (or Carlisle Road,) Bridgetown, Willoughby Bay, Bermudian Valley, and Parham.

St. John’s, as the capital of the island, has already been noticed in a chapter by itself, and it now devolves upon me to endeavour to describe, what is almost indescribable, the arrangement of the other towns, which, with the exception of Bermudian Valley, are still in a state of existence.

To commence with Falmouth. As it lies just before the traveller gains English Harbour, the road to it is the same already mentioned in our journey to that place; and consequently another description would be tiresome and superfluous. I must, however, remark that near the entrance of the town a pretty turn in the road leaves the blank-looking country, which so generally predominates between Falmouth and the capital, and leads you into a kind of defile; on one side, bordered by rugged banks thickly covered with the yellow acacia, and its sweet-scented blossoms; and on the other, by the picturesque ascent of Monk’s Hill, surmounted by all its frowning battlements.^[97]

The town of Falmouth is noted for being the first part of the island settled upon by the English, who, under the command of Mr. Warner, son of Sir Thomas Warner, emigrated from St. Christopher’s in 1632, and laid out the surrounding country in fields of tobacco, cotton, and ginger, which were for some years after the staple commodities of Antigua.

Humble as might have been the architectural ornaments of this town in those early days, it seems almost an impossibility to suppose them less then than they are at present; for if strangers (from some of our bustling maritime cities in Europe, for instance) were suddenly and unconsciously landed in the streets of Falmouth, they would to all certainty believe them to be so many pathways to the “castle of indolence;” and the irregular and dismal-looking buildings to be the habitations of some lawless, vagrant tribe. A few four-cornered houses, in shape like a pigeon-coop, and of dimensions to suit a dweller of Lilliput, are elevated a short distance from the ground by being placed upon empty boxes or barrels, or four pillars of rudely-piled stones, which arrangement forms a snug retreat for the pigs or poultry of the inmate, or serves as a reservoir for sundry discarded pots and pans, or other “household gods.” These habitations are as variously placed as the taste of their owners may chance to dictate. Some present an acute angle, others a broadside to the eye of passengers. Some stand in what I suppose is intended to represent a garden, whose rank weeds and straggling vegetables are guarded from the steps of the unwelcome marauder only by a gate, made from empty candle-boxes or barrel-heads, flanked by a thinly sprinkled row of some dwarf shrub, over which the gallant “Xit” (whom Mr. Ainsworth has so cleverly called into existence in his admirable “Tower of London”) could have stepped with the greatest ease; letting alone the frequent lapses in the enclosure, through which a bulky man might readily pass. To make all secure, however, these rustic gates are generally garnished with a huge padlock, which is of course carefully locked whenever the owner is absent; while the key, with admirable precaution, is tucked into some little peep-hole near, that it may be ready for the use of any stray visitants.

A few of these dwellings are, however, of superior form and fabric; and one stands forth in all the glories of palisading, and if I mistake not, bright green verandahs. It looks, by the side of its pigmy neighbours, like the Colossus of Rhodes, to the mandarin figures in our English grocers’ shops.

The present church, dedicated to St. Paul, is a plain, uninteresting-looking building, standing at the outskirts of the town, and capable of affording about 400 sittings.

The churchyard might be made as picturesque, and looks as quiet, as some of those pretty rural burial-places we oftentimes alight upon in dear old England’s sequestered nooks. Some fine trees, and a few handsome monuments, are to be met with; and if the rank grass was cleared away a little, and some of the various beautiful flowers, which are to be found in all parts of the island, planted there, it would present a spot equalling in appearance many of our modern cemeteries.

It may by some be thought folly thus to beautify the place of death​—​to garnish that spot where the worm revels upon the once animated clay!​—​to plant the gladsome, gaily-tinted flowers where all is mouldering beneath! Be it so​—​yet would I see the flowers blooming over the grave of those I have loved, and while seated near, feel that the bitterness of death is past, and that their happy disembodied spirits range, free from all sorrows, amid the amaranthine bowers of heaven! Like the late talented and oft-lamented “L. E. L.,” I love to frequent the scene of our last resting-place​—​like her, to—

“Stand beneath the haunted yew,
  And watch each quiet tomb;
And in the ancient churchyard feel
  Solemnity, not gloom.

The place is purified with hope—
  The hope that is of prayer;
And human love, and heavenward thought,
  And pious faith are there.

The golden cord which binds us all
  Is loosed, not rent in twain;
And love, and hope, and fear unite,
  To bring the past again.”

The parochial school is held in a small house near the church. It is conducted upon the same plan as the other schools of the kind in Antigua; the instruction consisting of lessons in reading, writing, arithmetic, repetition of catechism and hymns, and plain-work for the girls.

St. Paul’s has a chapel-of-ease in English Harbour; which was, in truth, a private dwelling-house, but now, disencumbered of its partitions, serves as a chapel, and is capable, it is said, of affording accommodation for 350 persons; during the week, it is appropriated to the use of an infant school.

The whole of Falmouth is thickly studded with clumps of acacia, privet, and prickly pear; all of which are of the thorny family, and if report be true, serve the inhabitants instead of pins. Between Falmouth and English Harbour lies a marshy thickly covered with sand, and dotted about with groups of mangrove-trees, in all their glittering, green foliage, forming so many oases in the midst of a burning desert. The sea overflows this spot at times, and leaves its tribute in the shape of small shells and bunches of sea-weed.

Opposite to Falmouth, looking across the waters of the harbour, a bold promontory stretches out into the ocean, to which has been given the name of “Black’s Point.” As it belongs to a gentleman of that name, it is generally supposed in Antigua, to derive its cognomen from that cause. Such supposition is, however, incorrect, for it is laid down in an old chart of the island as “Black’s Point” long before its present possessor came into existence. The real origin of its bearing that appellation is from the fact of its having been the place where it was customary to land the cargoes of newly-imported negroes, prior to the abolition of the slave trade; and from this circumstance the name it now bears was given to it.

Falmouth Harbour is considered one of the best in Antigua, and is capable of affording safe anchorage for ships in those times of danger to which the West Indies are exposed. The shores of the bay boast their silver fringe of sand, which is often selected by the parent turtle, as a place of safety, in which to deposit her two or three hundred eggs; and when the sun has performed the duties of incubation, which the lethargic mother refuses to perform, numbers of these little creatures may be seen, crawling towards their favourite element, where they feast and fatten, until, perhaps, in after-years, they are doomed to increase the table store of some Antiguan gourmand, or, perchance, find their way to England, and tickle the palate of “the lord mayor, and the other city authorities” within the sound of Bow bells.

Old Road (or Carlisle Road, as it was once called) and St. Mary’s church having been already described, in our “pilgrimage to Tom Moore’s Spring,” it remains for me, in the next place, to mention Bridgetown, or Willoughby Bay, as it is more frequently termed. Here, again, I have the task of describing, what is almost a nondescript, for no stranger would ever discover that it was a town unless the fact were pointed out to him. If the man who painted a lion was obliged to write under it, “This is a lion,” I am sure the person who huddled the three or four houses together, which constitutes Bridgetown, had need to have put upon a giant-like placard, “This is a town!” unless, indeed, a rather good-looking Methodist chapel, a small mission-house, a stone dwelling-house, with school-room attached, and a few of my four-cornered friends, stuck in here and there, like the dots in a landscape of some country painter, to represent crows, be sufficient to merit for it that lofty title, which Dr. Johnson, or some other lexicographer of equal renown, leads us to suppose signifies “a large collection of houses.”

As regards the population of this town, (I like to give places their proper names,) I can give but little information. With the exception of the very kind-hearted superintendant of the Wesleyan schools, Mr. Charles Thwaites, and his equally amiable wife, their very pretty little boy, one or two domestics, and their scholars of every shade, the only inhabitants I saw were flocks of black-headed gulls, busily employed in following their piscatory avocations; a few half-starved looking sheep, vainly endeavouring to screen themselves from the fiery beams of the sun beneath the leafless branches of some blighted shrubs; and three or four long-necked, screaming birds, known in this part of the world as gorlings, and which derive their subsistence from the same source as their neighbours, the gulls.

After resting for a short time at the superintendant’s dwelling, we proceeded to the school-room, a most commodious apartment, measuring 50ft. by 48ft., and capable of containing 500 persons. The whole of this establishment, including the superintendant’s house, which is detached, was erected by the Church Missionary Society; but after being used by them for a short time, it was turned over to the “Ladies’ Society,” to whom it still belongs, although the Wesleyan Mission holds its school there.

The school-room was but thinly attended upon the day of our visit, there not being more than 40 children​—​the usual number is about 100. Upon our entrance, they all rose up with “We’ll make our obeisance together, as children ought to do,” and then, quitting their raised seats, formed into double lines, their teacher at their head, and marched round the apartment to the tune of one of their infant rhymes. After performing many martial-like evolutions, they finally arranged themselves into a deep phalanx, and thus sang another of their little songs. Many of them are proficients in reading the scriptures, and are well versed in the historical parts of them. I hope and trust the education so liberally bestowed upon them, and above all, the religious instruction which they receive, may benefit their after-conduct, and lead them to do their duty in that sphere of life in which it has pleased their Creator to place them. I was much pleased to learn from Mr. Thwaites that, in almost every instance, the pupils who have left the schools under his charge have followed agricultural employments. To a country whose grand resource, and, indeed, entire dependence, is placed upon the cultivation of the sugar-cane, this conduct upon the part of its rising generation must be very important; and if the lower classes continue to do so, and not, because they are free, despise the hoe, Antigua may stand forth as pre-eminently flourishing among the other West Indian colonies.

Mr. Thwaites is the paid superintendant of all the Wesleyan country schools. His salary is 150l. sterling per annum, a small recompence (although quite as liberal as the mission can afford) for the constant care his responsible situation calls for, and which he performs with untiring zeal. For about twenty-nine years has this good man been employed in providing for the mental wants of the black population, and in endeavouring to lead their young minds to the only fount of real knowledge. Unmindful of passing events he has kept on his irksome task, (for irksome it must be to drive knowledge into the brains of some of these little negroes,) buoyed up by his feelings of deep philanthropy.

The first few years of his employment were passed without receiving any reward, but the approval of his own conscience. As, however, his laudable exertions became known, he was engaged by the “Church Missionary Society,” whose interests he faithfully served for near ten years. Since that period he has been in the employ of the Wesleyan mission. Although from being such a valuable auxiliary in rearing “the infant mind,” and teaching “the young idea how to shoot,” the bishop would gladly have retained his services, provided he gave up all connexion with the Methodists.

Mr. Thwaites has under his charge eleven day-schools, with about 800 scholars; and three Sunday-schools, with about 900 scholars. Besides attending these several schools, Mr. Thwaites visits the neighbouring estates in the evenings, for the purpose of giving the labourers religious instruction, and guarding his elder pupils, or those who have left his schools, for the purpose of engaging in the avocations customary to their province in life, against those temptations to which their age and sex are most subject.

It has been remarked in a late publication, (in commenting upon events in Antigua) that “after ransacking the whole freed population for a dozen suitable teachers of children, Mr. Thwaites could not find even that number who could read well.” Now, this is a great error, and altogether contradicted by Mr. Thwaites himself. The blacks certainly had not the means of improving themselves in former years, as the more fortunate generation have had since emancipation; but that the whole class were so totally ignorant as not to be able to read, is entirely incorrect. In proof of this, the superintendant pointed out to our notice several teachers who were well adapted for their employment; one in particular, who, Mr. T. remarked, conducted a school consisting of 120 scholars, which he instructed in reading, writing, and arithmetic, in which last branch of education many of his pupils had attained to “Practice” and “Vulgar Fractions.”

The salaries of these paid teachers (of which there are seventeen, the remainder giving their services without any recompence) are very small​—​not more than from three to four dollars (12s. and 16s. sterling) per month. They are paid by the “Ladies’ Negro Education Society,” and other benevolent societies in England, who also defray the other expenses of the schools, with the exception of the superintendent’s salary, which is provided by the Wesleyan mission. The children, who receive instruction in writing, cyphering, and needlework, pay a small pittance, which is placed in the school fund.

There is a very neat and excellent little library attached to the Willoughby-Bay school, where the works of “Abbott,” “Sherwood,” “Pike,” and various other pious authors, are open to the use of all, besides treatises upon geography, history, and experimental philosophy. The lighter works, such as Mrs. Sherwood’s pretty, and often affecting, little narratives, are read, Mrs. Thwaites informed me, with avidity by the negroes, to which intelligence their well-thumbed covers gave a tacit assent. Around the schoolroom were hung various cards, with texts of scripture printed upon them in large characters, that “such who run may read”​—​a practice I greatly admire, for turn whichever way you will, some goodly sentence meets your eye.

In the neat little yard attached to Mr. Thwaites’ dwelling, we met with some old friends of mine​—​a small wooden hive of “busy bees.” A pane of glass inserted into the box gave us a view of the industrious little creatures building their waxen cells, in which to store their fragrant food; but the weather was against them​—​the long drought had withered the flowers, and thus curtailed their stock of honey. There are very few bee-hives to be met with in Antigua. This is rather strange, as all Creoles are noted for having a “sweet tooth,” and consequently honey is reckoned a luxury. It cannot be from want of proper food, that the labours of these little insects are discountenanced, for Nature has been most prodigal of her stores to Antigua, and clothed her every hill and dale with melliferous blossoms.

I have heard of one gentleman, however, who was very anxious to establish an apiary upon his property in Antigua, and accordingly he obtained some choice hives, which in due time were safely deposited in his well-stocked garden. Soon after their arrival, however, business called him from the island, and he committed his valued bees to the care of his overseer, a true son of Hibernia, with an expressed hope, “that they would not wander from home.” The day after his departure, the overseer, wishful of obliging his employer, stole from his multitudinous duties a sufficient time to watch the movements of his buzzing charge. The bright sun drew them from their hives, and jocund in their little hearts, away they bounded on the balmy zephyr. Innumerable flowers dazzled their eyes, and courted their attention. Here the gorgeous hybiscus spread out its glowing bosom​—​there the blushing frangipanne loaded the air with its rich fragrance. At one moment they inserted their trunks into the sweet-scented cup of the jasmine; at the next, and they brushed the pearly dew from the brilliant radii of the passion-flower. Onward they flew, allured by flowerets of every colour, each one as

“Fair as the fabulous Asphodels;”

until at length, to the dismay of the overseer, they were lost to sight! He was no naturalist: he had never studied “Réaumur” upon the “habits of bees,” and as the last straggler disappeared, he thought “Well! Mr. ——— hoped they would not wander from home, but by St. Patrick they’re all gone, and if they ever come back is a query.” However, as nothing could be done, he was obliged to leave them to their fate; and in a rather disconsolate mood, “he turned and left the spot.”

Hours wore away,

“The evening came, the sun descended,”

and the truant insects returned to their hive, to the great joy of the observant overseer. “Ah! ah!” said he, as they alighted, heavily laden with their luscious store, “a pretty trick you have played me to-day; but by my patron saint, I will take care of you to-morrow.” He watched until they were all safe housed; and then with hurried steps, and self-congratulatory hitches of the shoulders, he sought the spot where masons had been lately working. Providing himself with some of the soft mortar, he again visited the apiary; and with ready will, and determined purpose, applied to the opening of each hive a sufficient quantum of the cement, so as to effectually forbid the egress of any bee. It is almost needless to mention, that upon the return of the gentleman, whose absence had been protracted, he found his favourite insects defunct; nor need I animadvert upon the vexation his overseer’s management of an apiary caused him.

To resume my subject​—​which the bees, and their untimely fate, drove from my head: after inspecting the school, and expressing our gratification, we proceeded to visit the Methodist chapel, a stone’s throw from the school-room. It is a plain wooden building, measuring 45 feet by 60 feet, and capable of containing 900 sittings. The burying-ground is attached, and serves as the place of interment for the whole town, and some part of the adjoining country. Adjacent to the chapel is the mission-house, a neat little domicile for such an extraordinary-looking place as Bridgetown.

There is nothing interesting about Willoughby Bay. No glittering white sand, or clear blue water with its dazzling surf to be seen. A line of blighted, sickly-looking bushes shuts out the sight of the beach; and the part of the bay which greets our eyes looks gloomy and discoloured, as if from lurking reefs and shoals. Upon the opposite side of the bay, looking across the water, lies the Memoras, a long ridge of rocks, over which the sea rushes with tremendous force, and with a deafening noise, which may be heard at a considerable distance. Upon a still day, the angry moan of the waves can be clearly distinguished at Bridgetown. Willoughby Bay derives its name from Francis Lord Willoughby, who in 1663 was made Lord Proprietor of the whole island, by a grant from Charles II.^[98]

St. Philip’s, the parish church, is situated upon an ascent, at some distance from Bridgetown, and commands one of the finest views to be met with in any part of the country. The eye ranges with delight over sloping hills and open glades; wood-crowned mountains, and silent valleys. Sugar plantations, in all the beauty of high cultivation, spread out their fields of rich and wavy green beneath our feet, interspersed with groups of simple negro huts, almost hid in their leafy enclosures; while on all sides, the ocean stretched out its interminable blue waters. It was a lovely day when we visited the spot,—

“The whispering winds were half asleep,
  The clouds were gone to play,
And on the woods, and on the deep,
  The smiles of heaven lay.

It seem’d as if the day was one
  Sent from beyond the skies,
Which shed to earth above the sun,
  A light of paradise.”

Of the first church dedicated to St. Philip no account can be given; but most probably it was built about the year 1690. The second church to that saint was erected about 1717. It was a wooden building, and no doubt possessed but little claim to architectural beauty. The present church is one of the prettiest I have seen in the West Indies. It is built of the smooth freestone, so generally found in Antiguan quarries; the only fault is, that they are cut too small, which, at a distance, gives them more the appearance of white bricks.

The plan, like many of the other Antiguan churches, is cruciform; but there is so much chasteness displayed in the simple arrangement of the interior, that it must please every eye. The large oriel window is furnished with ground-glass, of the most elegant, yet simple devices; and the neat pulpit and desk,​—​the altar, gallery, and pulpit rails,​—​the wooden columns which support the roof,​—​the pews and doors, painted in excellent representation of rich-grained oak, please by their uniformity. They are in the gothic style. The decorations of the altar are very plain, merely consisting of the tables of the Commandments, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Creed.

Leaving the town of Bermudian Valley (of which I think there is scarcely a relic) “alone in its glory,” we come to Parham, the remaining place of trade appointed during the time Col. Rowland Williams held the deputy-governorship of Antigua. Parham takes its name from the title of Lord William Willoughby of Parham. In 1697, after the decease of Christopher Codrington, Esq., (the elder,) Parham appears to have been the residence of the lieutenant-governor, in preference to St. John’s; and this circumstance gives rise to the statement of some authors, that Parham was once the capital of the island. It is another of those strangely straggling places whose streets are in many parts bordered with dagger (aloe vulgaris) instead of houses; but still it is far superior to Bridgetown, for some of its edifices boast of covered galleries, or balconies, flights of stone steps, and many other decorations.

The parish church of St. Peter’s, the second of the name, is an old dismal looking building, whose outward appearance is enough to give the observer a fit of that fashionable complaint, dyspepsia. It was erected in 1754, and affords 300 sittings. St. Peter’s has a chapel-of-ease, the private property of the Rev. Nat. Gilbert, a descendant of the “founder of Methodism” in Antigua, who was speaker of the house of assembly in 1764.

From some strange freak, or else from dire necessity, Parham churchyard is situated at about two miles distance from the church and town. It was formerly surrounded by a brick wall, but that is all falling to ruin. A more desolate-looking burying-ground I never saw​—​not a tree or flower near it; the very birds in their aerial wanderings seem to shun the spot.

At a short distance from St. Peter’s is fast rising into existence what will prove, when finished, a very neat and pretty church. It is an irregular octagonal​—​that is, the sides are not of equal dimensions. It is built of the same kind of stone as St. Philip’s; but has a better effect, from the blocks being cut of larger size. The base of the tower is constructed from the interior; but in its present unfinished state, (1842) with all its multiplicity of scaffolding and frame work, it is impossible to say what will be the effect; except, as I have before remarked, it will no doubt make a pretty appearance when completed. The architect is an Englishman, and the head mason (a black man) appears to be well-versed in the mysteries of his trade, to judge from the excellent smoothness in the joints of the walls, and from a very neat key-stone which he has sculptured. This church is intended to take the name and service from the old one, which will then be dismantled.

Besides the episcopal church, Parham boasts a very neat little chapel belonging to the Wesleyans, with a good stone mission-house and school-room adjoining. The general number of scholars at this school is seventy, including girls and boys; although upon our visit to it, there were not more than thirty-five. The school-room is a very airy and commodious building, capable of containing 600 or 700 persons. The children which compose the school are of every age, from three to fourteen. The instruction given them is plain, but good​—​scriptural knowledge, reading, spelling, writing, and arithmetic, with needlework for the girls. There are no pictorial embellishments in this school-room, merely a few selections from the Scriptures, cards of multiplication, and some black-painted boards upon which the children practise their little sums with a piece of chalk.

The Wesleyan missionary stationed at Parham, the Rev. Mr. Keatley, (who appears to be a very amiable man,) mentioned as a well-known fact, that the schools in the country were always better attended the three first days in the week, and that after that period very few children made their appearance. Probably this is owing to their parents employing them in some domestic business which is more necessary at the close than at the beginning of the week.

Parham harbour, although it affords safe anchorage when gained, is dangerous to the inexperienced navigator from the number of shoals and reefs which encumber its approach. It also contains some few islands, of which Bethel’s Island is the largest. This harbour is protected from the inroads of the enemy by Port Byam, erected upon Barnacle Point, and which derives its name from Colonel Edward Byam, some-time governor of Antigua. It is said that within the precincts of this fort, Colonel Byam had a small room erected, where he was in the habit of receiving and entertaining a party of Caribs, who came yearly from some of the neighbouring islands, in order to smoke their calumets of peace with that gentleman.

To the southward of Parham rises a curious hill, which is supposed to be the work of art, and to have answered for the burying-place of the ancient inhabitants, the Caribs. An old writer speaking of this tumulus, describes it as “in form a long square, very regular in all its parts, lessening gradually from its base to the top, which is flat, and may be from five to six hundred feet long, and from forty to fifty feet high.”

CHAPTER XXVII.

Forts and fortifications​—​Temporary ones​—​The present forts​—​Fort James​—​Its situation and approach​—​Rat Island Battery, its appellation, lunatic asylum, and flag-staff​—​Goat Hill​—​Steep ascent​—​Schools in St. John’s.

It might be imagined that where nature has done so much for her favourite isle in the way of barricading it, by giving to Antigua a bold rocky coast, art, in the shape of forts and batteries, would be less called for. This, however, is not the case; the island coaster meets with many an embattled point, and many a sea-girt cliff supports the frowning walls of a battery.

The forts in Antigua are Fort James, Rat Island Battery, Goat Hill or Fort Barrington, Old Fort, Johnston’s Point Fort, Old Road Fort, Falmouth Fort, Fort Black’s Point, Fort Charlotte and Fort Berkley at the entrance of English Harbour, Fort Christian, Fort Isaac, Fort William, Fort Harman, Flat Point Fort, Old Fort, and Fort Byam; Parham Harbour, Dickenson’s Point Battery, Corbison’s Fort, and Fort Hamilton. Of these, the greater part were merely temporary fortifications erected in those days of warfare when the French and Caribs, in their shallops and perrigoas, used to make such frequent attacks upon the island. Still, dismantled as many of these forts became in after-years, when peace spread her soft pinions over the lovely group of the Antilles, they retained their names, and served as sinecures to those persons who, from favouritism or superannuation, were exempted from militia duty, prior to the abolition of that body during the administration of Sir W. Colebrooke.^[99]

The fortifications at present in use are, Fort James, Rat Island Battery, Goat Hill, Fort George, Fort Johnston’s Point, Old Road Fort, Monk’s Hill, and the forts at English Harbour.

Fort James was erected about the year 1704-5, on a spot of ground known as St. John’s Point, which was given to his majesty Charles II., by Col. James Vaughan, in 1680. It is situated at the entrance of St. John’s Harbour, and commands at once a beautiful and extensive view, while, from its frowning battlements, a deadly and raking fire could be poured upon the adventurous enemy who dared its anger. The rock upon which it is built appears to overhang the sea; and the waves, from constantly fretting and foaming around its base, have completely undermined it. If all proper precautions be not taken, the fort and its accompaniments will, some day, probably make a rapid descent into the yawning gulf beneath, and its avenging weapons no longer vomit forth their flaming breath upon the dauntless vessel who dares to pass it, without tendering to its captain his expected dole.^[100]

Fort James mounts but few guns, the rest are making themselves beds deep in the earth. This is one of the happy results of peace. Those murderous weapons repose in quietness, and that they may ever do so is my fervent prayer. A gun, however, is fired at sunrise and sunset; and her majesty’s ships, as well as vessels of war belonging to other nations, are complimented with a grand discharge. The arrival and departure of the governor, members of council, &c., also call for a similar mark of honour. Serious accidents sometimes occur at such periods. A few months ago one of the matrosses had his arm so severely shattered by overloading the instrument when saluting a French man-of-war, that it became necessary to amputate the limb immediately. He has now happily regained his former health, and is employed upon the fort as a schoolmaster.

The captain of Fort James receives 150l. sterling per annum, and the residence is one that many would gladly inhabit. Under him are stationed twelve matrosses, who receive very good pay. For the use of these last-mentioned persons, a temporary chapel has been established within these last few years, through the instrumentality of the Rev. John Horsford, Wesleyan missionary, son to the former governor of the fort, by which happy means they are enabled to attend Divine service once on the Lord’s day.

The road from the capital to Fort James, a distance of about four miles, is not very noted for the interest it displays. As the traveller nears the fort, an arm of the sea runs far inland, twisting and twining its rippling waters amid the clumps of aquatic shrubs in a most snake-like manner. Through this, equestrians and pedestrians, the emblazoned carriage, and the more humble gig, alike have to pass, while shoals of fairy-like fish dart from their parent waters in all directions; and as the sunbeams catch their silvery scales, almost blind the looker-on with their dazzling coruscations.

Rat Island Battery is of itself a most picturesque object, as the stranger approaches Antigua. It lies within the harbour of St. John’s, and takes its name from some fancied resemblance to that most destructive little quadruped, a rat. I cannot say this isapparent to my eyes, but the believers in such a similitude say that the rock personates the body of the animal, while the causeway which connects it to the main land plays the part of a tail. I have already mentioned the lunatic asylum lately erected upon this rock, whose whitened walls look cheerfully down upon the waters beneath, and little tells the observer how many darkened minds wander within them. The flag-staff upon Rat Island is often gaily decorated with various flags, and with a beating heart my eyes have often sought it, for there I learn the tidings that another packet has arrived from my native land, and, as I hope, brought me one of those little packages traced with “a grey goose-quill,” and telling that those who are so dear to me are enjoying health and happiness in Old England.

Goat Hill crowns the summit of a lofty hill upon the opposite side of the harbour to Fort James. When passing it by sea, our surprise is excited when we consider how it is possible to transport the heavy artillery and stores up the steep ascent; but the road is winding, and the difficulty is much sooner overcome than would be supposed. It was on the site of this fort that the French landed, in that memorable attack upon, and reduction of, the island in 1666. Near the base of Goat Hill, two peculiar shaped and blackened rocks rear their bare heads above the sea, around which the waves dash their lustrous foam with loud and angry moanings. The remaining forts, with the salaries of their several captains, and the means by which they are paid, will be found in the statistical portion of this work.

From the forts, I proceed to mention the “Mico Charity” School at St. John’s, where instruction is given in various branches of knowledge. Upon my visit to this school, I must say I was surprised to find among the dirty ragged little negroes, which comprised it generally, a herd of geographers, historians, and grammarians. The head-master happened to be absent, but a messenger was immediately despatched to call him; and, upon his arrival, the examination commenced, which I left entirely to themselves, wishing to see their own mode of tuition.

The room, or rather rooms, were hung round with various pictorial embellishments, consisting of some very beautiful lithographed designs, representing the most interesting and affecting scenes in the Old and New Testament​—​birds and animals, fruits and flowers, steam apparatuses, machinery of all descriptions, modes of every branch of agriculture, and some excellent maps.

A stand was placed in the middle of the apartment, and a boy of about twelve or thirteen took his station by the side of it, with the “wand of office” in his hand. It was now announced by the master​—​“Those boys who wish to ask questions, please hold up their hands,” when immediately about eight or ten, of the same age as the one stationed in the middle of the room, replied by the motion required, while an air of animation sprang to their eyes, and lightened the dusky hue of their complexions. The first question was proposed by a boy, black as the late member of parliament’s celebrated blacking, but whose scanty habiliments bore many a mark from the finger of time, and many a stain upon their once fair colour. “Who was Hannibal?” Answer, from the boy near the stand​—​“A Carthaginian general, who defeated the Romans in two engagements.”

It was now his turn to propound​—​“How is the true situation of any place upon the globe shewn?” Answer, from an intelligent-looking little mongrel boy, who was in such haste to reply, that it called for the aid of the master to render his rapid utterance understood​—​“By the intersection of that imaginary circle, which we call a parallel of latitude, with the meridian of the place in question.” Having replied to this query, he asked the boy at the stand​—​“Who was the first Roman emperor that visited England, then called Britain, and in what year?”

This was a puzzler. He could not answer to it; so he lost his conspicuous station, which was occupied by the more fortunate querist.

Various other questions were then proposed in history and chronology; after which, an examination in the Old and New Testaments commenced​—​the interrogatories being still propounded by the boy: “Who was the man that climbed up into the tree, to see Jesus pass?” “Zaccheus.”​—​“Where did Moses die?” inquired a pretty little girl. “On Mount Pisgah,” was the answer. A tall, rather grim-looking boy, started up, and, in a sepulchral-toned voice, asked​—​“What is the difference between Pisgah and Nebo?”​—​“Nebo appears to have been a point, or pinnacle, of Mount Pisgah,” replied a shrimpish boy by his side.

An excellent map of the world was then brought, and attached to the stand in the middle of the apartment, so that the eyes of the whole school could rest upon it. The greater and lesser circles were then pointed out, the meaning of longitude and latitude defined, the form and divisions of the earth mentioned and descanted upon, and the sun’s path through the ecliptic described.

The question was then proposed to the school​—​“Would you like to sing?”​—​“Yes,” from every lip. “You must promise to sing very soft and sweet,” quoth the master. “Soft and sweet,” reverberated from the whole of the scholars, like the tongue of an echo. Then came the “soft and sweet,” as they termed it; and if the burden of a song could give melody to the lips, it would have been more sweet than “the breath of the south wind upon a bed of violets,” as Avon’s favoured bard once sang; for it was all about our dear little Queen Victoria. To the tune of this loyal ditty they marched round the room, each class divided by their several teachers, carrying a pile of books, and then formed into semicircles, to be exercised in reading, writing, arithmetic, spelling, and grammar. Their spelling was very fair; many of them wrote a good hand; they all appeared conversant with the four first rules of arithmetic; and as for grammar, they talked about present tenses, and perfect participles, nouns, adverbs, and conjunctions, definites and indefinites, until I began to think they must have been born with a “Lindley Murray” in their mouths. I wish I could speak as well of their reading; but I suppose boys who talk about Hannibal and Artaxerxes, ecliptics and globular projections, and descant upon the merit of tenses, esteem it too common-place to read correctly words of two or three syllables.

The average number of boys and girls attending this school is from 140 to 160; although, from the prevalence of the measles upon my visit, there were not more than half that number there. Young men are also received in this establishment as candidates for teachers; 100 of whom have, within these last four years, been disseminated throughout the schools in Antigua, and some of the other West India Islands, as fully qualified for instructing the rising generation in all the necessary branches of education.

After experiencing the erudition of these advanced scholars, we passed into another part of the establishment appropriated to the use of the infant school. Here we found about sixty little creatures, two or three, to eight or ten years of age, seated upon their benches, raised one above the other​—​the elder ones occupying the upper tier.

This apartment was also garnished with its pretty prints and Brobdignagian alphabets, and possessed its coloured maps and stands. The exercises were conducted in a similar manner as those in the other part of the seminary: an intelligent-looking little black boy taking his place by the centre stand, beside the map of Palestine, and answering very fluently the various questions proposed to him by the other children, at the same time pointing out the places. “Where did Jesus turn water into wine?” asked one of the little girls. “Cana, in Galilee.”​—​“Who got his cedars from Lebanon?”​—​“Solomon,” &c. They then sang one of their pretty little songs, to the tune of which they marched round the room, and, formed into classes, read, from a selection of pieces, “Dr. Franklin’s Whistle.” It was too difficult for them, and they bungled sadly through it; for although, like the elder pupils, they were geographers and historians, they had not made much progress in the art of reading. Their lessons over, they sang an anthem; and then, after a short prayer offered up by the master, the school broke up, and away they started with whoop and song, leaving me to ponder in my brain how far their manifold knowledge would benefit their after progress through life.

Besides the Wesleyan and Mico schools, Antigua is further supplied with “repositories of learning,” belonging to the established church and the Moravians. Our worthy rector, zealous in every good work, has a pleasing little infant-school near the rectory, besides schools in various other parts of the town and country. The Moravians have large schools at their different settlements; and a boys’ and girls’ school, with infant-school attached, adjoining their chapel in St. John’s. I visited this last-mentioned school twice; but I am unable to speak of the acquirements of the scholars​—​they having been dismissed soon after my entrance, upon both occasions. They appear to cultivate the art of singing; for I heard them join in Mrs. Hemans’ “Better Land,” to the accompaniment of a small, but very sweet-toned organ, played by their superintendent. If I may be allowed to judge of the manners of the children, (which, I own, would not be quite right,) by those of the female teacher, I should be inclined to say, they were far behind any of the other schools I have visited in the island; for she appeared totally deficient in politeness or agreeable behaviour.

I have thus endeavoured to shew that Antigua abounds in schools​—​the exact number of which will be found in the chapter on statistics. I sincerely hope that the benefits arising from them may be permanently felt by the lower classes, and that the patrons of these schools may reap the reward of their philanthropy. There are some sad examples: (sorry am I to be compelled to say so!) where, instead of improving, education has but tended to lead further into the paths of error; for the very passages of Scripture that have been taught them​—​the doctrines of salvation which have been inculcated, these unhappy creatures pervert to raise their ungodly mirth. Oh, how do our ears become shocked at every turn of the street, at every hour of the day, by the language of this class of persons! while that great and holy name, “at which every knee shall bow,” is bandied about as a common interjection.

There are some to be met with among the negroes whose display of learning is very ludicrous. We have a servant now living with us who often calls up from me an involuntary smile. I heard her speaking the other evening to a fellow-servant, whose name is Diana. “Diana, my goddess! come here. Let me see, Diana was the goddess of truth, and Junus the goddess of sleep, and so you must not tell me a story, or go to sleep!” Diana did not appear to comprehend this burst of eloquence, and so her friend went on to explain to her, that as “Airy was the ram, and Callus the bull, Virgo was a lion, and Quaris was a water-pot;” she must bow to her superior knowledge in everything. To this, Diana humbly assented with “Ees, Miss Charlotte!” accompanied by a stare of amazement. I don’t wonder, however, at poor Diana’s surprise at her friend’s knowledge; I am sure she often startles me. Another evening, I saw her standing in the yard, with outstretched arms, and upturned eyes, gazing upon a bright star, which twinkled above, while in a very lackadaisical tone, she exclaimed, “Oh, Mars! invoke me by thy rays!”

I hope, however, what I have said in this last page will not discountenance those worthy characters who are employed in opening the book of knowledge to the eyes of the ignorant. In the words of a much-admired writer, “the delightful hope may be cherished by him who shall bring his mite for the promotion of the Lancastrian system of instruction for giving knowledge to the ignorant​—​the hope that he is providing for the display of a genius in works of the highest utility, which might otherwise have expended itself in a career of infamous contrivance, long operating as a pest to society, terminating in the ignominious destruction of the victim of the want of education. And when the intimate connexion between ignorance and vice is considered, surely all who wish to lessen the sum of the latter will assist the endeavours that are now making to plant the tree of knowledge amid the desert and deformed waste;—​to convert that which is now cheerless and blank into a field of profuse beauty teeming with the real wealth and strength of nations.”

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Remarks upon the aboriginal Americans​—​Suppositions of various authors​—​Caribs​—​Arrowawks​—​Ferocity of the Carib​—​Complexion​—​Dress​—​Ornaments​—​Dreadful revenge​—​Wars-Chiefs​—​Severities practised​—​Feasts​—​Remarks upon paganism​—​Anthropophagi​—​A traveller’s tale​—​The Carib’s opinion of death​—​Religious tenets​—​Altars​—​The burning Carib.

It may perhaps be proper to remark, that although this work has been entitled, “Antigua and Antiguans,” still, as I have commenced its history from the period of its first discovery, it will be necessary to say something about its ancient inhabitants, the Caribs. As it is impossible at this lapse of time, to give the history of the individual tribe who peopled this island, I have been obliged to gather my information from what the early writers have transmitted to posterity, of the habit and customs of the entire nation. Consequently, while I am writing of the Carib of Antigua, or, as the island was called at that period, “Xamayca,” I must at the same time allude to those of the other islands; only remarking, that ferocious as they all were, the Carib of this country seems to have borne the pre-eminence in hardy daring and relentless animosity toward their conquerors. In the same manner, I have thought proper to give a short account of the discovery of America, as antecedent to that of this island; and as, in furtherance of my plan, I have introduced Columbus to my readers, from his boyhood, it is but right I should trace the Caribbean nation from their source. With this apology for trying the patience of my readers, while I write of a people whose existence is no more, I will proceed with my subject, which I hope may neither prove foreign nor unpleasant.

To enter into minute inquiries how America and its contiguous islands were first peopled, would fill many volumes, the opinions of the learned upon this subject being so various. Some authors suppose the Americans do not derive their existence from the same common parent as the rest of mankind. Others, that they are descended from a remnant of the antediluvian world which survived the deluge; but this must be erroneous, or how are we to understand the sacred historian, when, speaking of that momentous circumstance, he says​—​“And all flesh died that moved upon the earth, both of fowl, and of cattle, and of beast, and of every creeping thing that creepeth upon the face of the earth, and every man. All in whose nostrils was the breath of life, of all that was in the dry land, died!”​—​Gen. vii. 21, 22. Again, many authors assert that their ancestors came from the north-east of Asia, after the dispersion of the people for their impious attempt to build the Tower of Babel; and to establish this doctrine upon a firmer basis, endeavour to point out the great similitude between the Asiatics and the Southern Americans, in their manners, customs, and general appearance. Another, and perhaps the most probable idea, is, that the southern parts of North America, and the islands which lie in the Gulf of Mexico, and the Caribbean Sea, were originally peopled by Africans. This idea is maintained by various speculations:—​as the trade-winds blow direct from east to west, a canoe of these savages might have been driven by bad weather across the Atlantic; and this position may be further proved by the statement of the Indians of Florida, who, when asked about their origin, reply, “that their ancestors came from the east, and that at the time they discovered America, they were nearly dead from want of provisions.” These Africans, uniting with the different tribes with which the other parts of America were peopled, must have produced the various degrees of colour and character which astonished so much the first discoverers of this extensive quarter of the world.

The Caribs, from whom Antigua and the adjoining islands took their names, were a very different race of beings from the gentle and hospitable inhabitants of Cuba, Jamaica, Hayti, &c., who were called Arrowawks, and with whom the Caribs were ever at war. From the martial and ferocious spirit of the Caribs, and from their repasts upon human flesh, historians agree in supposing they were descended from the Africans; while, on the contrary, the peacefulness and indolence of the Arrowawks evidently bespeak them of an Asiatic origin.

When Columbus visited these islands for the first time, he found the inhabitants so very savage, that he was for a while fearful of landing; but upon despatching small presents to them, they afterwards appeared more friendly, and desirous of an acquaintance. In nearly all of their huts were found relics of their horrid feasts upon the bodies of their slaughtered enemies; and in one of them, a man’s arm was roasting for the intended meal of the inmates.

The character of the Caribs presents little of what is interesting to the imagination; ferocious, superstitious, and revengeful, they looked upon all strangers as enemies; and, in return, were dreaded as such by the inhabitants of the other islands; still they are represented as being, generally, peaceable and friendly to one another. They ever retained a high sense of equality and independence. Accustomed to be absolute masters of their own conduct, they scorned to follow the orders of others; and having never known control, they would not submit to correction. Many, when they found they were treated as slaves by the Spaniards, and that resistance or escape was impossible, sought refuge from calamity in the arms of death. While the Carib roamed in his native wilds, his reason was but little exercised, and consequently, his intellectual powers were very limited. His ideas never extended beyond the narrow sphere in which he moved, and everything but his present preservation and enjoyment was perfectly indifferent to him. When disposed to sleep, no consideration on earth would tempt him to sell his bed; but in the morning, when satisfied with slumber, and prepared to set out on the usual business or recreation of the day, the Carib has been known to dispose of it for the smallest trifle which caught his fancy. The only thing they deemed of real value, was their weapons​—​consequently, when they found, by sad experience, the superiority of fire-arms over the bow and arrows of their own country, they viewed them with unbounded admiration; but the inventions and improvements of civilized life, with all the arts and manufactures of the Spaniards, they regarded with apathy, or paid them the same attention as we do the toys of childhood.

Columbus noticed two distinct races of Caribs. One was quite black, with hair approaching to woolly; the other, of a deep copper colour complexion, with long, straight hair; the latter inhabited Antigua and the adjoining islands, while the blacks predominated more in the islands further south. In appearance, the Caribs were robust and muscular; their limbs flexible and active. They ornamented their hair with shells and grease; and some of them had it turned up like women, and decorated with thin plates of gold, which they procured from the Arrowawks. Their garments were composed of cotton cloth, fabricated by their females, and which they had the art of staining red, their favourite colour; but many of them were in a state of nudity. The cartilage of the nostril was perforated, and in it they stuck a piece of tortoise-shell, the bone of a fish highly polished, or a parrot’s feather. They adorned their arms, neck, and ankles, with the teeth of their enemies which they had slain in battle, or devoured at home. Their bodies were painted in the most hideous manner, which appears to have been intended to make them look more formidable in the eyes of their enemies than pleasing in the sight of their friends. The favourite style of doing this, was first to smear a quantity of red paint all over them; they then encircled one eye with a streak of white, and the other with one of black; they also disfigured their cheeks with deep incisions and horrible scars, which they stained with various colours; and the greater number and depth of these disfigurations constituted their idea of manly beauty, and martial appearance.

Their revenge was deep and implacable​—​it resembled rather the wild fury of a lion than the passion of a man. When anger took possession of a Carib’s heart, he vented it against everything, whether animate or inanimate, which chanced to fall in his way. Although in general calm and apparently insensible to pain, if struck by an arrow in these moments of rage, like the North American Indian, he would tear it from the wound, bite it, spit upon it, and, dashing it to the ground, trample it to atoms beneath his feet. He never pitied​—​never forgave​—​never spared! To fall upon an enemy unarmed, knock him down, capture him, and finally eat him, was the boast of a Carib warrior! For this they were bred up from their youth. To bear with an unflinching spirit the most excruciating torments, inflicted by the hands of his own father and nearest kin​—​to suffer all the severities and unnatural cruelties which the savage breast was capable of imagining without betraying one symptom of weakness​—​to rise superior to pain, and baffle the rage of his persecutors by calmness and tranquillity, was the test by which the courage of the young Carib was tried. If he succeeded in this, he was looked upon as one of the warriors of his country, and pronounced “a man like themselves;” while, on the contrary, should one cry escape his lips, one supplication for mercy break from him, he was despised as a coward, and driven from society.

When an expedition against the Arrowawks was intended, a chief was elected, with solemn ceremonies. During the time of peace, however, the Caribs appear to have owned no head; they paid, indeed, some little veneration to the old men, but this appears to have been merely from respect to their age,​—​at any rate, they were not able, by their influence, to protect the weak or the stranger. The man who aspired to lead his countrymen to war was obliged to undergo the most severe sufferings before he was accounted worthy of that honour. If he was successful, upon his return he was treated with a grand feast, and was allowed to take as many captives for his own share as he liked, and alter his name a second time to that of the most formidable Arrowawk who had fallen by his hand, while his own people presented for his choice the most beautiful of their daughters. Their mode of warfare was very different to that of the present day,​—​they thought it no honour to fall fighting for their country. Their plan was, not to wait for a drawing up of their forces, but to capture all their foes they found unprepared, whom, at the end of the war, they carried home, and either slaughtered them for the grand feast, or kept them until they became sufficiently plump for eating. They preserved the fat of these poor creatures to anoint the bodies of their children, in hopes of making them as martial as themselves.

Happy for us is it that we live in an age when Paganism, with all its accompanying horrors, has given place to the mild doctrines of Christianity​—​when this land, so beautified by the hand of Nature, is freed from those barbarous wars, those soul-sickening feasts of human flesh, which once polluted it! That man can actually devour his fellow-creatures is almost incredible​—​indeed, some persons of philosophical minds have doubted the truth of anthropophagy; yet, shocking as it is to the imagination, it has been too fully proved to be denied; indeed, some of the Caribs, when, in later years, they have been asked about this revolting practice, have unhesitatingly answered in the affirmative, and even gone so far as to say that Frenchmen eat better than Englishmen, and Englishmen better than natives.^[101] Although, within these last years, so much has been effected by the laudable zeal of Christian missionaries, yet, even now, there are “dark corners of the earth” where human flesh is not only eaten from feelings of revenge, but partook of as a luxury.^[102]

I read in a periodical, some time ago, a circumstance which may be termed a romance of real life. I pretend not to give it in its original words, but the tenour of the case is as follows: A gentleman was once travelling through the interior of Grenada, or Trinidad, I am not certain which, and after riding for some time through rocky defiles and umbrageous woods, he at length came to an open plain, on which was erected about half a dozen Carib huts. Riding up to the door of the principal one, an old man was seen reclining upon a rustic seat, who at the approach of the stranger arose, and, with much native politeness, invited him to alight, and spend the day at his hut. The gentleman, being one who was travelling in pursuit of knowledge as well as amusement, was well pleased to have the opportunity of becoming a little acquainted with the domestic manners of this ancient people. After walking about for some time, and making sketches of the various beautiful scenes which surrounded the hut, his attention was arrested by the plaintive cry of a female. Having a good supply of the “milk of human kindness” within his breast, and a heart open to the distresses of his species, the traveller determined to go in quest of the afflicted fair. Directing his steps by the sound of the voice, which appeared to issue from a magnificent grove of trees near the spot, he soon came in sight of the object of his commiseration, whom he found to be, not a fair, but a dark beauty, of sixteen or seventeen years of age. Her long black hair floated down her naked shoulders; the tears were rolling over her smooth brown cheeks; while her languishing dark eyes were turned with mournful looks upon the face of a man, who, with knitted brow, was employed in fastening her slender wrists to one of the trees. Supposing she had committed some fault for which she was about to receive corporal punishment, the gentleman begged very earnestly for her pardon; and from the smile which passed over the harsh features of the man, he thought his request was complied with.

The day passed very rapidly, and our traveller was delighted with all he saw. His host was all attention, pointing out to his notice whatever he thought would amuse; and when dinner was announced, ushered him into his hut with the air of a French petit-maitre. The dinner table was laid out in the English style, in compliment to his guest; and the calabashes which contained the water &c. were beautifully carved and stained. The first refreshment introduced was soup, which was contained in an English tin tureen, that shone like silver; and from the keen air of the mountain, and the exercise he had taken, our traveller made a very hearty repast upon it. After its removal, and while waiting for the other viands, the host asked​—​“How he liked Carib soup?” “Excellent!” said the gentleman​—​“very delicious​—​I must beg a few receipts from your cookery book.” “O, it’s very simple,” replied the old Carib, “if you have the proper articles to make it of: what you have been eating was made from the hands and feet of the girl you were begging for this morning!” What were the feelings of the traveller at this horrible information can be better imagined than described. The repast he had shared in, the fate of the poor girl, and his own situation amid a race of cannibals, filled him with horror, and almost drove reason from her throne. It is almost unnecessary to state that he left the scene of bloodshed as soon as possible; and never, never more did he think of visiting a Carib, or partaking of Carib soup. I have given the story as I received it; as to its authenticity, I will not take upon myself to vouch for it.

With regard to the religious rites and tenets of the Caribs but little can be said, for but little is known with any degree of truth. They appear to have an idea that death was not a final extinction of being; but that the soul (or rather souls, for it was the general opinion among them that every pulse that beat in their bodies was a separate soul) went to another world, where they enjoyed themselves very much after the manner they did in this, and that their bows and arrows were as necessary there as here. For this reason they buried the weapons in the graves of their friends, and inhumed several captives with them, that they might have attendants in “the land of spirits.” Some authors assert that they acknowledged one great universal Cause, to whom they gave the name of “Mayboya,” who was invisible to them, but who watched their actions, and heard their words; that this being possessed an irresistible power; and that subordinate to him were many other gods. Other writers, however, maintain that the Caribs had not even a name for a deity; and that after death they believed they decayed away like the animals they were acquainted with. Which was the fact is a matter of surmise; but Columbus mentions that in several of their huts were seen little altars composed of banana leaves and rushes, and that upon these were laid offerings of fruit, fish, flowers, &c. It seems probable that their religious principles were like those of other savages, suggested rather by the dread of impending evils, than gratitude for favours received. “We can all forget benefits, although we implore mercy,” was their motto.

Some of the Caribs pretended to be magicians, and worshipped demons with rites and ceremonies of the darkest superstition: these people were termed Boyez, and in them was placed implicit faith. Upon the discovery of these islands, the Spaniards endeavoured to convert the natives to Christianity; but the means used to accomplish this were diametrically opposite to what they ought to have been. Instead of setting it forth as a doctrine of love and mercy, and inculcating its precepts with mildness and humanity, they shewed at once the bloody tenets of the church of Rome, and condemned those to the stake who did not immediately subscribe to their opinions.

This manner of proceeding, instead of converting the Caribs, only fixed firmer in their minds their dislike to the intruders; they witnessed their quarrels among themselves, their ferocious and implacable resentments, their insatiable thirst after gold, and the cruelties they perpetrated in searching after that metal. Can it be wondered at, then, that they did not believe the superiority of the Christian religion, as taught by the Spaniards, over their own? or that the rites of baptism, which they could not understand or appreciate, were despised by them?

One of these unhappy people being condemned to be burnt for his attempts to save his country from the encroachments of its conquerors, was promised, by a Roman-catholic priest, admittance into heaven if he would only embrace the Christian faith before he died. “Are there any Spaniards in that region of bliss you tell me of?” inquired the unhappy victim. “Yes,” replied the priest; “but only such as are good.”​—​“Then I will never go there, where I may meet with one of that accursed race; for the best of them have neither worth nor goodness.” And from the cruel treatment these islanders met with, there was but too much reason in this exclamation.