CHAPTER XLIX.
The pure in blood—Places of amusement—The theatre—“Romeo Coates”—Jugglers and rope-dancers—Maroon parties—Shooting season—The Creole beauties—Dress—“The lords of the creation”—Fops and foppery—Business hours—Scene at the Antigua post-office—Auction sales—Militia doings—The gallant dragoon—Guard-nights.
There are but few places of public amusement in Antigua; no malls, or parks, or Kensington gardens,—no morning concerts, Colosseums, or exhibition-rooms,—no “Almacks” of an evening,[[58]] or box at the opera, where the Creole beauty may shew forth her charms with eclât. The Antiguan belle has to trust to fortune to bring her admirers;
“Unknowingly she strikes, and kills by chance,”
as Dryden expresses it.
A few years ago, however, there was a theatre in Antigua,[[59]] which now and then was frequented by a straggling company of players, who, in their trips about the West Indies, called in at Antigua to delight and surprise the inhabitants with their dramatic lore. Then “Macbeth” grasped his gory dagger,—“Hamlet” stalked about in sable suit,—“Othello” raved, or “Jaffier” stormed,—then poor “Juliet” wept, or “Desdemona” prayed, and many other heroes and heroines of the stage “mouth’d” and “saw’d the air,” with all the grace that strolling players are noted for. Their ranks augmented by some gentlemen amateur performers of Antigua, who, not content with entering the lists as knights of the “buskin and sock,” like Hercules, put on the petticoats, to shew, I suppose, their diversity of talents. Much cannot be said for the performance upon these occasions. One gentleman, in his metamorphosis, forgot to divest himself of his “Wellington boots,” and there was such a clattering and stamping about with him, when playing the part of the waiting woman, that I verily believed the boards were in danger.
The well-known and eccentric “Romeo Coates,” as he is generally called in London, is a native of Antigua; and many and oft have been the nights, when he has made his bow before an Antiguan audience, and trusting in his histrionic powers, claimed the chaplet which Fame has woven for stage-struck heroes. The playhouse has, however, been levelled with the ground; and its site is now occupied by a very respectable private dwelling-house, in place of the shabby temple, formerly appropriated to the tragic and comic muse.
Although the theatre is “no more,” Antigua is not always devoid of public exhibitions. A juggler, or a rope-dancer, now and then makes his appearance, and having procured an empty store or loft, throws his body into ten thousand different contortions, for the amusement of those who feel inclined to throw in their dollars. At other times, a dwarf, or an “infant phenomenon,” do their best to call a smile into the face of their audience; or a ship-load of yankees, with their stud of horses, and an “incomparable female rider,” as their play-bills have it, erect their marquee upon the barrack-ground, and for the small remuneration of a dollar, spring over the moon almost, or act the part of a spitted ox, dressed by the heat of fire-works.
During the absence of these “professional characters,” the Antiguans have other methods for getting rid of the time that hangs too heavy upon their hands. Now and then a maroon party, or West Indian fête champetre, is given; when groups of beautiful girls and gallant youths, stayed matrons, and gentlemen of riper years, assemble together, with full purpose to enjoy the passing hours. Some sweet spot, generally near the sea-side, is chosen for the day’s resort; or else some
“—— green and silent spot amid the hills,
A small and silent dell.”
And beneath the shade of some far-spreading trees, whose boughs form natural arcades, their rural banquet is spread. Various pastoral sports are here enjoyed; and although no “Weippert’s band” is in attendance, the sound of the lively violin, or soft-breathing flute, often floats across the blue waters, and mingles with the murmur of the playful wavelets.
At different periods of the year, fancy sales are held in the court-house, when all classes congregate together, from the governor’s lady, to the lady of the agricultural labourer. These, with balls at government house, now and then, and occasional quadrille parties at private houses, Bible and missionary meetings, and rides and drives in the afternoons, or walks by moonlight, constitute the chief amusements of the Creole beauties.
The gentlemen vary these pastimes with occasional regattas and races, a day’s rabbit-shooting upon Long Island, or, in the season, they deal destruction with their murderous guns upon the poor winged tribe, who pay us annual visits. The shooting season commences about September, when plovers, teals, and wild ducks migrate from America to these islands, although the quail remains with us throughout the year. There are game-laws now in force in Antigua, and consequently, every sportsman has to take out a licence, before he is at liberty to endanger the lives of the birds, or may be, the safety of the queen’s subjects. Some few years ago, this was not the case; and whoever felt inclined, went out shooting. Cobblers, tailors, butcher-boys, and carpenters, were immediately metamorphosed into gentlemen, and gun-in-hand, shot-belt and powder-flask slung round them, left the trammels of the shop and the work-bench, to wage war against the feathered race.
Many of the white Creole girls are very beautiful. Their complexions may vie with the purest Parian marble; while the softest, most delicate rose-tint mantles in their cheeks, and every blue vein can be traced, as it courses through their polished foreheads. The long glossy ringlet, the drooping eyelash, and the penciled brow, relieve, while they set off, their natural white; and the little coral lip, and pearly teeth, make up a tout ensemble, more lovely than can be told. Beauty has ofttimes been compared to flowers, and when looking at some of these lovely Creoles, they bring to mind that sweet and elegant rose, known in England as “the maiden’s blush.” In person they are generally petite, and their hands and feet are faultless as regards shape or size. Canova might have chosen them as a model for his Venus. What a pity it is, that extreme affectation should, in so many instances, spoil their manners, and deteriorate from their natural charms. Dress is carried to a great extent. Every pew in the church looks as gay as a box at the opera. Such feathers and flowers, mantelets and cloaks; such capotes of tulle, and cardinal pelerines; such corsages à la vierge, and skirts à la Corinne—crispins of lace, and I know not what besides, are exhibited by the Antiguan belles, as would surprise any one who is not well versed in all the changes of the arbitrary rule of fashion.
From a glance at the ladies it is but right I should turn to the “lords of the creation,” and remark a few of their peculiarities. In a small community like Antigua, it is not to be supposed there are to be met such extreme contrast in dress and appearance as in the crowded streets of London—and yet some of the gentlemen emulate the “fops” of Regent-street, while others, again, are so outré in appearance, that we involuntarily exclaim, “From what habitable part of the globe could this creature have sprung?” As is generally the case, the younger gentlemen are those who enlist under the banners of “foppery;” and then there is such a display of exquisitely-fitting coats, brilliant satin waistcoats, and voluminous stocks, or reversed collars and cuffs, and throats à la Byron; such pointed boots and pumps, clerical-looking hats, and elegant canes! with wasp-like waists, flowing locks, and languishing manners, that had Adonis lived in these days and seen the Antiguan beaux, he would, most undoubtedly, have despised his own inartificial charms, and have cried with King Richard—
“I’ll be at charges for a looking-glass
And entertain a score or two of tailors
To study fashions to adorn my body.”
The gentlemen of more advanced years very generally patronize the blue-coat-and- white-waistcoat school, and some of them follow the almost obsolete custom of powdering the hair; but white is the prevailing morning-dress among all classes and all ages, a dress of all others best suited to this warm climate.
As bright Hyperion takes from the Creole maidens the glowing tints for which England’s daughters are so famed, so he thinks it but fair to play many pranks with the complexions of the gentlemen who own his much-loved and frequented island as their home. Some he renders so pale and wan, that they appear like gliding spectres; others are as fiery red as the old English country market-women’s cloaks with which they enwrap themselves when Winter holds his despotic reign; while some, again, present the deeper tinge of a full-blown peony; when to these latter shades are added the silvery honours of old age, the tout ensemble is most striking.
The hours of business in Antigua are from about six in the morning to four in the afternoon; after that period, the lawyer leaves his musty books and all his pros and cons; the merchant quits his counting-house, his day-book, and his ledger; the dealer in fashions and furbelows shuts his varied store; even the professors of the lancet abandon, for a time, the cure of the incurables; and away they all hurry, on “pleasure bent,” to enjoy the exercise of riding, driving, or walking, until the day draws to a close, and their watches point the hour of dinner.
Many circumstances, however, occur during these “business hours” which calls for the presence of the trader as well as the professional man. The packet from England is signalized, and away they scamper to the post-office, almost before the mails are landed, to the utter consternation of the poor post-master, and, with anxious eyes and clamorous tongues, crowd the office-door. At length, two or three burly sailors, followed by the commander of the packet, a lieutenant in the navy, are seen approaching the spot, bearing upon their broad-built shoulders the long-looked-for mail-bags, well secured in their leathern envelops. The pushing and jostling increases, as gig after gig dashes up and sets down its several passengers—horsemen curvet about, at which lank and miserable-looking dogs bark, servant-boys grin and chatter—and a group of little children, just dismissed from one of the free schools, stand gazing thereon, and wondering “war make dem buckra care so much ’bout letter?”
Oh, what a hurly burly it is! what a noise and discord! what a pushing, and scrambling, and puffing, and panting! At length, the door is opened, and the postmaster announces, in not very dulcet tones, “the letters will not be out for two hours,” and closes the portal again. A look of dismay and vexation overspreads the countenance of all. The first turns to his neighbour, and he, in his turn, looks to the one behind him; one mutters, “How provoking!” and another says, “I hate to be served so!” while one of the applicants, a melancholy-looking man, observes, in an important voice, “The letters must be sorted, you know.” As no good can be effected by waiting, they finally disperse, and endeavour to while away the time until, the two hours having elapsed, they again besiege the office. A well-applied rap summons the postmaster. “Are the letters out?”—“No, they will not be out for another hour!” Time, however, brings many things to pass, and the letters are at length sorted. Happy now does that individual feel himself whose name begins with an “A”—for they always conduct this business alphabetically. A silence ensues, the letters are distributed, and, too anxious to know their contents, their several receivers open them upon the spot.
Various is the intelligence received, as seal after seal is broken—manifold the subjects discussed. Some talk of failures of mercantile houses, others of legacies received or in prospect; some descant upon politics, and others upon the price of sugars; while another group peruse the London newspapers, inspect carefully the list of births, deaths, marriages, and bankruptcies, look to see what the Queen and the court are doing, and then go forth to publish the “varied accidents by flood and field.”
Another figure emerges from the office-door. A fine portly-looking man, whose complexion rivals in colour the château margaux he so liberally indulges in: a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles surmounts his well-formed nose, a substantial-looking umbrella is stuck beneath his arm, while in one hand is borne an open letter, and in the other, a voluminous silk handkerchief, and a gold snuff-box almost large enough to play the part of a portmanteau. “Not bad, though,” he mutters to himself, as he carefully looks out for the lapses in the stone platform which runs along the front of the post-office—“not bad, though; my last ten hogsheads brought 78s. per cwt.; and my agent tells me the sugar was not so good as the former shipment, or he should have got higher prices. I must look to what my manager is doing; he must exert himself more, or he and I must part. Ay—rain again!” and he inspects the movements of the clouds, and glances for a moment at the vane upon the church-steeple visible above the surrounding houses. “Well, let me get home first, and it may rain as long as it likes—all the better for my canes.” So saying, he gains his “top-gig,” and carefully stepping in, and placing his umbrella between his knees, he tells “John” to gather up the reins, and make haste home. This is a resident proprietor of a sugar-estate, a man with whom the world has long dealt well.
Another event that makes an inroad into business-hours, is the occurrence of an auction-sale. When a gentleman or his family intends paying a visit to England, one of their first preparations is to “call an auction,” and sell off all their household furniture, carriages, and horses. Upon these occasions, they print no compendious catalogues, as is the custom in England; but an advertisement is inserted in the island weekly papers, calling the attention of individuals to the fact, that
“The subscriber being about to proceed to England by the first opportunity, will dispose of all his fashionable household furniture, lately imported, consisting of,
HANDSOME FRENCH POLISHED MAHOGANY SIDEBOARD,
Dining, Loo, Card, and other tables, Glass, &c.
Also, a few choice articles of plate and plated goods; also, an English-built Phaeton and Pair of Horses and
A FLOCK OF SHEEP.
Y. Z.”
Now, this last announcement is but very seldom true. But as Mr. Robins, of well-known auctioneering celebrity, calls to his aid all the high sounding words and flaunting descriptions he can get, to ensure company at his rooms, so the Antiguan auctioneer, or vendue-master, as one of the craft calls himself, throws out all the sprats he can in hopes of catching whales. The country managers and overseers are often good purchasers; and to ensure their company, the bait of a flock of sheep is held out, which has more effect in bringing them to the scene of action than anything else. “I have no sheep,” observed a gentleman one day to an auctioneer he had employed. “Why do you put such notice into the papers?”—“Oh! I know you have not,” quoth the knight of the hammer; “but it makes the advertisement look so much better, and draws the attention of the planters—they all like to come when sheep are to be sold.”
Upon the day of this important undertaking, a red flag is hoisted before the house, and the bellman perambulates the streets, announcing that “the sale is just begun.” Carpets are not taken up, and beds taken down, mirrors torn from their resting-places, and pots and pans brought into the drawing-room, as is often the case in England; but everything remains in its usual situation, only, perhaps, with a rather stricter eye to order than is practised in common; and the auctioneer proceeds from one apartment to the other, until the whole of the articles are disposed of.
The company assemble about twelve o’clock, and the first lots, consisting of glass-ware, china ornaments, or similar little knick-nacks, are knocked down very cheap. Sangaree is then handed about; and as its potent influence becomes apparent, the heavier articles are brought forward, and often obtain high prices.
As another means of ensuring good company and biddings, a kind of lunch is provided; and then there is such a cutting-up of hams, tongues, and salt-beef: such a calling for sangaree, punch, “swizzle,” and porter; such a laughing, choking, talking, and eating, that a poor quiet body is glad to get into a corner, and offer up a prayer for silence.
It is not always, be it remarked, that “the subscriber is going to England,” although such intimation heads the advertisement that occasions these “auction sales,” for very frequently they are nothing more than an Antiguan scheme for “raising the wind.”
Previous to the abolition of the militia, field-days and reviews often occurred, to abstract attention from business. Upon such occasions, the gentlemen took great pride in exhibiting their epaulettes and garnished coats.
In proof of this assertion, I need but relate the following anecdote. A resident of Antigua, who, in days of militia glory, served in the dragoons, went to a neighbouring island, of which he was a native, to pay a visit to his friends. In order to astonish the inhabitants, and create a “sensation,” Mr. ——— determined to land in full uniform. The dress of the dragoons was very smart, and the swords and steel scabbards they carried, very long and heavy. Fancy, then, our brave militaire, who, by the bye, is a very short and corpulent personage, with a redundancy of colour, landing upon a sandy beach, beneath a burning sun, in all the glory of blue cloth and yellow worsted, with his Goliah-like weapon, scarcely twelve inches shorter than himself, dangling, or rather dragging, gracefully by his side. Although of little stature, he is big of heart; and proudly erecting his head, and settling his shoulders, he marched along, amid a herd of astonished boatmen and sea-side loiterers, with all the dignity of a commander-in-chief. The news spread like wild fire—astonishment was at its height—for rich and poor, black, white, and coloured, all thought their ci-devant neighbour was Fortune’s child, and had been promoted governor of his native island. Before, however, any procession could be formed, or salute fired to welcome his arrival, his real rank was discovered; and as the truth became known, the assembled multitude one after another departed, and left our gallant dragoon “alone in his glory.”
In speaking of the militia, I am reminded that I have not yet mentioned the Christmas guards. Before the emancipation of the negroes in 1834, martial law was put in force upon the 24th of December, and continued during the three following days, which, by law, constituted the Christmas holidays; and a militia guard stationed at the guard-house in St. John’s, in order to protect the arsenal from any attack which might be made upon it by the slaves, who were more at their leisure during that period than at any other part of the year.
At such times, the whole body of the militia appeared in their tinselled jackets, and the churches and chapels presented such an array of glittering steel, and burnished epaulettes, blue and gold, and red and silver, that the pews looked like beds of ranunculi. When the guard for the night was comfortably fixed in the guard-house, a complete scene of dissipation ensued. Wine, cards, and dice, were liberally indulged in; and not unfrequently, mirth and festivity paved the way for sorrow, care, and quarrels. Upon one of these guard-nights, a wealthy German, since deceased, met with such a run of ill luck at the gaming-table, that the next morning he was obliged to hire porters, and despatch the dollars he had lost to the house of his adversary in wheel-barrows! That was, however, in a time when dollars were more plentiful in Antigua than they are at the present day, and when doubloons were in such abundance, that, it is said, the possessors of these costly coins found it necessary to deposit them in barrels! But, alas for the bonny little isle! that golden age has long ago passed by, and in its place we have one of copper and paper money.
Before concluding this part of my work, I contemplated to enlarge upon the “traits and trials” of that portion of the Antiguan community, who, in absence of other qualifications, rest all their claims to superiority upon the reputation of their being white people. As these sketches, however, have been already lengthened more than at first intended, but a very brief mention of this class of individuals can be given.
I would not for one moment have it supposed that I am so heartless as to upbraid them with their poverty—far be it from me to hint at such a thing—no; it is their pride, their overweening pride, I notice, and their hard struggles to ape the ton, while at the same time they condescend to receive the parish allowance, which ought really to be applied to the benefit of those who possess humbler minds. The “son of Sirach” in his wisdom, saith—“Three sorts of men my soul hateth, and I am greatly offended at their lives;” and first among the trio he mentions, “a poor man that is proud.” Now, without making use of such a strong expression as hatred, who can help noticing the fulsome attempts of these persons to appear greater than they are? while their wives and daughters, instead of dressing as becomes their station, and thus rendering themselves respected, figure away in rainbow-coloured gowns, and bonnets that would better suit a strolling player, and then falsely think they merit reward! Some few years ago, about the smartest ladies in the Episcopal congregation were receiving parochial aid; but upon its being officially notified that the names of all paupers would be published, many of these dashing damsels became alarmed, and resolved rather to depend upon their own unaided exertions than let the world know how they procured their ribbons and laces.
But there is another class of white persons, who, although not dependent upon parochial relief, dress and act equally beyond their sphere in life. In illustration of this—A lady brings to Antigua an English servant-girl, and before her mistress can collect her scattered thoughts, after all the rolling and bounding, pitching and jumping of the vessel in which she took passage from Old England, the femme de chambre is turned into the fine lady; and ere, perhaps, six moons have waned, is united in the holy bands of wedlock with a ci-devant Irish soldier, who plays the part of a policeman; a lately-imported English ploughman; or, in lack of these, some red-faced overseer, who may stand in want of that somewhat necessary appendage—a wife. Servitude at an end, our fair lady makes a display of her dignity, and all the cast-off graces of her former mistress—wears very fashionable blonde caps, and long-skirted gowns—patronizes hysterics and eau de Cologne—and laves her previously hard-worked fingers with Rowland’s Kalydor. Equipped in all her finery, she next makes her appearance at church, and when the service is over, bows and courtesies with self-approved grace to any other white lady; and then takes promenades with her fiery-faced husband, while visions of future grandeur and invites to Government House float through her brain.
If “her lord” should be an overseer, the estate upon which he is employed generally furnishes him with servants; but if instead, he is an ex-son of Mars, or some similar grade, our lady employs a black servant-girl of about eight years of age, to conduct her domestic affairs; while her husband obtains another specimen of juvenility, (but of course of an opposite sex,) to play the part of groom to the Canadian pony he has lately purchased for about four pounds sterling.
Although not quite so thick
“As autumnal leaves that strow the brooks
In Vallambrosa,”
still ladies and gentlemen of the grade above described are no raræ aves in Antigua; in all parts of the island they more or less abound, while in affectation and outward adornment they are not to be equalled among the pure in blood.
[[58]] In former years there was a subscription assembly held at “Smith’s Tavern,” then a noted house of entertainment, where cards and dancing were resorted to until twelve o’clock, when supper was introduced, and the festive party broke up about two in the morning.
[[59]] The first Antiguan theatre was established by a party of amateurs, and opened on 17th Jan. 1788, with Otway’s play of “Venice Preserved.” The orchestra was composed of the band of the 69th regiment, (then stationed upon the island,) conducted by Mr. Green, the late organist of St John’s. The prices of admission were, two dollars to the boxes, and one and a half dollar to the pit; the funds being appropriated to the erection of a Free Mason’s Lodge (never finished), the remains of which are to be seen at this day, at the east of the town.
CHAPTER L.
Zoology—Rabbits—Rats—Horned cattle—Horses—Mules—Asses—Sheep—Goats—Domestic animals—Whales—Thrasher—Grampus—Porpoise—Shark—Anecdote of the Young Creole—Death of the sailor-boy—Remora—Pilot fish—Dolphins—Jew fish—Stingray—Corramou—Beautiful colours displayed in fish—Parrot fish.
In an island like Antigua, destitute of every wild animal of larger growth than a rabbit or a rat, it may be deemed risible to talk about its zoology; but as that word embraces a description of all living creatures, I intend to include under it the several doctrines of ichthyology, entomology, and ornithology.
Having mentioned rabbit and rats, I will reverse the general order pursued in writing upon subjects of natural history, and commence with a slight mention of those animals. The wild rabbit more particularly abounds in Long Island, a pretty and delightful spot, already mentioned as belonging to the Hon. Bertie E. Jarvis. Although rabbits sometimes form a dish at genteel tables, they are not generally esteemed in Antigua as an article of food. Many of the Creole negroes express the greatest antipathy to them, on account of their similitude to a cat; and to offer to them such a repast would, no doubt, be deemed an insult. I remember upon one occasion, hearing a woman inquire of a black carpenter, who was employed about our premises, if he would purchase from her a rabbit which she had in a basket. “Rabbit?” interrogated the artisan, his face wearing a most sardonic grin, “I should jist like to no war you take me for, ma’am? You tink me go buy rabbit? No, ma’am, me no cum to dat yet; for me always did say, an me always will say, dat dem who eat rabbit, eat pussy,[[60]] and dem eat pussy, eat rabbit. Get out wid you and your rabbit!”
The rats are a numerous race in Antigua, and feed most lusciously upon the sugar-cane, to the grief and loss of the planter. The present race are said to have been introduced into the West Indies by Sir Charles Price, in hopes of exterminating the Creole rat. The emigrants’ tribe fulfilled their duty with great fidelity in this respect, and waged a vigorous war with their brothers of the furry coat; but while thus employed, they multiplied so fast themselves, that they overran the whole island, and proved a more troublesome and dangerous foe to the planters, than their predecessors. These quadrupeds are so fat and sleek, from feeding upon the juice of the sugar-cane, that some of the country negroes find them an object of value, and with addition of pepper and similar spiceries, prepare from them a delicate fricassé, not to be surpassed by a dish of French frogs!
The horned cattle of Antigua, as well as beasts of burden, and domestic animals, are all of Lilliputian dimensions. Agricultural labour is generally carried on by help of oxen, and upon this account, each plantation is provided with a large herd of these animals, whose patient drudgery often calls for an expression of sympathy. The horses bred upon the island are, in most instances, but a very sorry race; still there are some handsome Creole ponies to be met with, whose slender limbs and bright wild eye give them the appearance of “sons of the desert.” The donkeys and mules are of diminutive sizes, but retain their asinary qualities in as great a degree as their patient brethren in the other parts of the world.
Sheep, like “Miss Cowslip,” are as tall and slender as a poplar. Their wool falls off as they gain maturity, and is succeeded by short stiff hairs, like a goat. Many of them are so spotted and marked, that they might be taken for spaniel dogs, were it not for their length of legs, and sheepish visage. The sheep, however, at Long Island, are very deservedly admired. Their backs are of a deep warm brown colour, and the underneath part of the body, with the breast, feet, legs, and head, of a glossy coal black. Their eyes are also black, and very piercing, very much like the eyes of the stag; and as they raise their long necks, throw back their well-formed heads, and gaze earnestly at the stranger who intrudes upon their haunts, they display a higher degree of animation in their features than any of their species I ever saw.
Goats are also a numerous race in Antigua, almost every negro possessing one or more of these sure-footed creatures: their milk, as well as that of the sheep, is generally used for domestic purposes. Cats and dogs also degenerate greatly in size, and present as attenuated an appearance as if they had been keeping strict fasts and vigils for a month; the young puppies are sold for two shillings currency, and the cats are sometimes bartered between the negroes for a chicken: this last-named animal often forms an article of food to negro watchmen, who rear them especially for that purpose.
The lordly whale at times frequents the West Indian seas. These huge marine animals generally quit their hyperborean homes in the summer months, to take a trip along the eastern shores of North America, and passing through the West Indian Archipelago, return to their icy regions, where they enjoy, with redoubled pleasure, their unwieldy gambols amid the stupendous icebergs. In their passage between the several islands they often meet with various trials; at times they quit their right course, and flounder about in shallow water, until at length they are perhaps cast ashore, where they suffer an untimely and lingering death. One met this fate at Antigua a few years ago. It was driven upon an unfrequented part of the coast, where it must have remained for a long time, until at length the effluvia became so offensive that it attracted the attention of some negroes, who, going in search of the cause which so tainted the air, discovered the defunct whale. It was a very large one, measuring from sixty to seventy feet in length, and of about thirty feet in circumference; many of its bones were preserved by the curious as commemorative of the event.
But the greatest enemy the whale meets with in the tropic seas is the thrasher, (a species of squalus;) a fish so called from the manner in which it attacks its prey. As soon as the thrasher perceives the whale, he swims rapidly up to it, in a kind of orbit, until at length, when it approaches near enough, it compresses its tail, and by a great effort, throws itself out of the water and falls heavily upon the body of its unoffending victim. This exploit the thrasher performs again and again, until at length the whale (which very seldom escapes by speed) spouts up volumes of blood and water, and with one dreadful convulsion sighs out its last breath, and its immense carcase floats upon the ocean until some playful wave flings it upon the shore of some neighbouring island. In one of my trips from Antigua to Barbados I witnessed one of these conflicts, and although at a considerable distance from the place of battle, the blows sounded audibly in our ears.[[61]]
Among the other Cetaceæ which sometimes frequent the waters of the blue Caribbean, are the grampus and porpoise.[[62]] I have heard some master of the small trading vessels express great apprehension of grampus, who, they say, will at times approach so near a craft as to endanger its safety; but during my sojourn in these islands, however, I never heard of such a casualty taking place. A few years ago, an immense shoal of grampus were driven ashore at Antigua during a season of stormy weather, and by the oil they yielded, became a valuable prize.
But the greatest dread of the mariners in these seas is the shark—that rapacious and terrific monster whose very name conjures up a train of horrors. The usual length of the white shark is from 25 to 30 feet; the body oblong, and tapering to the tail, which is of a semiannular form, and of great strength; the head is rather flat upon the top; and the jaws, of horrific dimensions, are armed with numerous rows of flat, jagged, triangular teeth, (which it has the power of erecting at pleasure,) down to the very gullet.[[63]]
The eyes of the shark are large and prominent; and they appear to watch their hoped-for prey with the malign glance of an ogre; while their vision is so acute, that they can distinguish objects at an immense distance, and will brave any danger to procure booty with which to fill their ravenous maw. A circumstance occurred some years ago which evidently proves that the optics of a shark are anything but defective.
A young Creole one day escaped from the vigilance of her nurse, and, attracted by the numerous wild flowerets and gaudy butterflies she met with, rambled on, reckless of danger, until at length she approached the sea-side. Here she watched for awhile the waves as they dashed their snowy foam over the pointed rocks which lined that part of the beach, until, impelled by the beauty of the scene, and the heat of the weather, she threw off her simple tropic dress and wended her way into the smiling waters. Although not more than six years old, from being accustomed to bathing, she had learnt to swim with agility; and gaily did she sport with the bounding billows, until her attention was arrested by a violent rushing of the waters, when, upon looking behind her, she saw, fast approaching, what instinct immediately told her must be a shark. It was but the thought of a moment to make for the land, upon whose confines she fortunately was; and urged on by fear, she gained the pointed rocks, followed by the rapacious monster. Springing from one to the other of these natural coast-guards, she at length reached the land in safety; while the greedy shark, fearful of losing its prey, and regardless of hazard, dashed after, until it became entangled in the intricacies of the beach, where it floundered about, unable to extricate itself, until a party of negroes (who had been working near the spot, and whose attention had been attracted by the cries of the child) came to the scene of action, and with ready good will despatched the encaged monster.
The shark is viviparous, and sometimes five hundred young ones, of about a foot in length, have been found in the stomach of the mother. The mouth is placed so far beneath the snout, that the shark is obliged to turn upon its back to seize its prey. The fins are large and strong, which enables it to dart quickly through the water, while the huge dorsal one may often be seen above the surface of the sea for a long time together, marking the spot where the dreadful creature lurks beneath. The bays and harbours of Antigua abound with this voracious marine animal, and woe betide the unfortunate swimmer who approaches its lair.
On board the ship which first conveyed me to Antigua, was a remarkably fine and intelligent lad, “the only son of his mother, and she was a widow.” He had been placed under the care of the captain of the ship, in order to gain some knowledge of the sea before sailing with his uncle, the master of a South Sea whaler. Robert had never quitted his fond parent before, and anxiously did he look forward to the end of his voyage, hoping that a letter from his mother would be awaiting his arrival at Antigua.[[64]] At length we gained our wished-for haven, and the passengers quitted the ship to seek their several places of destination. The packet had arrived, but there was no letter for poor Robert, who, with a disappointed heart, was obliged to wait the arrival of another mail. In the meantime, according to the rules of the merchant’s service, he was employed along with the other lads in many little duties aboard the ship, until one fatal Saturday, as he was drawing a bucket of sea-water from over the ship’s side, he overbalanced himself, and fell into the depths beneath. The steward, who was passing, raised an alarm; a boat was lowered, but without success, for he never rose to the surface. At length drags were procured, and (after an ineffectual search of some hours) his body was discovered, but the merciless sharks had made it their prey; the head, legs, and arms were gone, and his mutilated trunk alone reposes in the churchyard at St. John’s. It was an untimely and dreadful death, so far from the land that gave him birth; and the circumstance was rendered more affecting, by the arrival of the packet the next day, bringing a letter for him from his mother, expressing her hope of her darling boy’s quick return.
It is a general custom in St. John’s when a horse dies to have it towed over the bar,[[65]] in order that it may be cast away in deep water. These defunct animals are very often made a bait for shark-fishing; but at times the sharks are so large and so greedy, that these would-be fishers are obliged to let go their bait in order to prevent their boat being overturned, and they themselves become the prey of the monsters. Young sharks are often exposed in the Antiguan markets for sale; and their flesh, stewed down with rice or “sweet potatoes,” forms, among the negroes, a savoury supper.[[66]]
The common attendants upon the shark are the remora, or sucking-fish, and the pilot-fish, the former deriving its name from the firm manner in which it can adhere to any foreign substance. This adhesion is performed by means of a piece of hard thick skin, of an oval form, about five inches long and two broad, and which is attached to the head of the fish. This curious appendage is indented like the roof of a cat’s mouth, and can be drawn up or expanded at pleasure. By these means the remora fixes itself so firmly to the back of the shark that no effort of that animal can dislodge it. Some naturalists are of opinion that the sucking-fish is the friend of the shark in directing its course and warning it of approaching danger, in the same way as the hermit-crab acts towards the pinna-marina. Others think this is a fable, and that, instead of befriending, it in time becomes the destroyer of the shark by draining its body of all moisture. I have heard seamen assert, who are often better observers of nature than is generally supposed, that if by accident a sucking-fish becomes separated from the shark, it is unable to provide for itself, and has not even the sense to swim from approaching danger. A remora was caught by the crew of a small vessel on board of which I was passenger. It was placed upon the deck for a few moments in order that I might be better able to inspect it, but when about to be removed, it was found to have adhered so firmly to the planks, that no effort, save the cruel one of cutting off the part, could disengage it. It belongs to the ray kind, and measures generally from two to five feet in length; but one was captured off Guadaloupe, which had attained the unusual length of thirteen feet from head to tail. Many strange tales have been related of the remora being able to stop a ship when in full sail, as well as performing other prodigies of valour; but in this age of wisdom all such statements are deservedly regarded as fables.
The pilot-fish, the other attendant upon the shark, is a very beautiful fish, of a tapering form; it is represented as encompassed “with chains of pearls, corals, emeralds, and other precious stones;” and really, from the brilliancy of its scales, such an idea might be entertained. It was formerly supposed to precede the shark in order to point out its way, and for this cause it obtained its name of “pilot-fish.” This supposition is, however, exploded by later observations, which point out that it attends the shark at a respectable distance, in hopes of participating in its prey.
The dolphin, or delphinus, is the next most remarkable and beautiful fish which frequents the Caribbean. Painters and sculptors have represented it of a semiannular shape; but the true figure of the fish is straight and tapering, with the back very slightly curved. The snout is long and narrow, and armed with numerous sharp-pointed teeth; the French give it the name of Porc de mer; it has also been called the “prismatic fish,” from the assertion, that when in the agonies of death it presents the seven primary colours. Much has been said about the dying beauties of the dolphin; but how far more beautiful it looks sporting in its parent element with all the brightness of the emerald, and enjoying the life that has been given it! The flesh is firm, and of a very good flavour, although it is a rapacious fish, waging incessant war upon the poor little flying-fish, and devouring them with the greatest avidity.
The largest among the fish esteemed in Antigua as articles of food is the “Jew-fish,” which commonly weighs from three hundred to four hundred pounds. The flesh is reckoned one of the greatest luxuries the West Indian seas afford. It is, however, but seldom caught—probably one reason for its being in such repute—its visits, like angels’, being “few and far between.” A superstitious notion is attached to this fish—that its appearance bespeaks the death of some magnate of the Island; and accordingly, when tidings are brought that such fish is captured, all the old women lay their heads together to plan out who is to die. The king-fish, grouper, barracoota, cavallie, are equally esteemed for their gastronomic qualities; there are seasons, however, when the flesh of the barracoota is poisonous—a circumstance attributed by some persons to their feeding on copper banks.[[67]] The other poisonous fish found near Antigua are principally the “horse-eyed cavallie,” the yellow-billed sprat, and the conger eel: the flesh of the yellow-billed sprat has often proved fatal to those who have eaten it, and it has been known for death to take place six hours after tasting it. The poison is said by some to be contained in the head.
The stingray is another native of these seas, the meat of which is much esteemed by the Creoles. This fish is armed with a long, slender tail, in the middle of which is a sharp barb; with this instrument the stingray beats the water, or anything that approaches it, rapidly, when attacked. The negro fishermen allege, that the stroke from the stingray’s tail products leprosy, for which cause they are very careful in approaching it; and a circumstance has been related of a person having been thrown into a frenzy for forty-eight hours after being struck by this formidable weapon.
The corramou is the salmon of the Antiguan fisheries, as far as regards superiority of flavour. It is caught in the fresh-water stream which runs throughout the Island, but is rather scarce; it is the most delicate of the West Indian fish, and ought to be cooked as soon as taken from its parent stream. Snappers, hinds, silks, mullets, doctors, angels, old wives, nurses, Spanish mackerel, &c., are among the other kinds of fish exposed for sale in the Antiguan markets, some of which are noted for their excellent taste, the others for their brilliancy of hue; indeed, the most diversified colours, as yellow, purple, pink, orange, green, and blue, chequered with gold and silver, and the whole happily blended together, are to be observed in almost every species. The parrot fish is the most beautiful of its tribe. Its scales are of the deepest emerald, and its eyes, composed of different coloured circles, are as clear as crystal. It feeds upon shell-fish, which it crushes between its bony jaws, nature having armed it with such instruments in place of teeth. The negroes always call it “blue parrat;” its flesh is much esteemed by them, but the flavour is so rank, that it is never admitted at any respectable table. It sometimes attains the weight of from sixteen to twenty pounds. There are a great number of other edible fish which might be deservedly mentioned, but the pages of this work have so multiplied, that I must pass them over without further mention.
[[60]] The negroes term all cats, but more particularly kittens, “pussy.”
[[61]] The whale belongs to the class mammalia; order, cete. The food of the whale is lump fish, and small marine insects. Whalebone is procured from the lamina in the upper jaw, (commonly called whiskers,) which supplies the want of teeth. It is split and prepared for use in England.
[[62]] The grampus generally measures from 15 to 25 feet, and is of great circumference. It is a very voracious fish, feeding upon its neighbour the porpoise, when able. It also attacks the whale, and sometimes makes that huge animal cry out with pain. Pliny, the great Roman naturalist, who perished in that awful eruption of Mount Vesuvius, in A.D. 79, which also destroyed the cities of Herculaneum and Pompeii, when speaking of the grampus, says, “it is an immense heap of flesh, armed with dreadful teeth.”
The porpoise measures from six to nine feet in length, and may be found in all parts of the ocean, and even in the mouths of large rivers. It keeps in large shoals, and if one of the company receives a wound from the harpoon, the rest fall upon him and devour him. Formerly, it was esteemed a fish of such rarity, as to be introduced as royal fare; but in this degenerate age, its savoury qualities are generally over-looked, unless by sailors, who sometimes make a portion of it into a sea-pie.
[[63]] Some naturalists are of opinion that a fresh row of teeth is added every year. I have counted five rows in a shark’s mouth.
[[64]] We went by way of America, and consequently our time from England was long.
[[65]] A shoal running across the harbour of St John’s from north to south.
[[66]] Shark, in ichthyology, a species of squalus.
[[67]] Labat thinks the reason some of the West Indian fish are poisonous is on account of their feeding upon the “galley-fish,” a genus of the Zoophyte tribe.