At nine P.M. the wind appeared to lull, and almost gave rise to the hope that the hurricane had passed. This lull was of short duration; the wind appeared to cease, in order to commence afresh with greater fury, which continued until eleven P.M.
The destruction that the first part of this terrible visitor had caused was already considerable. The plantations on the mainland had suffered in a great measure, many of the cocoa-nut trees having been uprooted, and all stripped of their nuts; whilst temporary buildings, and even houses, had been laid in ruins.
The city of Mozambique had suffered likewise, and up to this time considerable damage had been done to the shipping in the harbour. In my house on the mainland every precaution had been taken to resist the hurricane; all doors and windows having been well secured, and even the shutters of the latter were doubly secured by being screwed to the frame-work of the windows. No opening was allowed for the entrance of the wind.
Shortly before eleven P.M. I had observed the barometer, and placed a lamp near a window to attract the attention of the unfortunate shipwrecked mariners, or any of the natives whose huts might have been destroyed by the tempest. From the barometer still continuing to fall, I was led to believe that the centre of this revolving storm was passing not far distant from my house. I had retired about ten minutes, when suddenly the wind ceased, and was followed by a calm too horrible to describe. Springing out of bed, I observed it was exactly 11 P.M., and that the barometer, which an hour previous had stood at 29·000, had now fallen to 28·740.
The wind had ceased; the sea suddenly became still, not a leaf moved—nothing was heard but the lowing of the cattle, and the bleating of the sheep, which had hitherto survived the storm, and these signs of animal life added to the horror of so intense a calm after such a convulsion of nature. The stars shone bright in the firmament of heaven, more especially in the zenith, and the atmosphere had the most serene appearance.
Since the commencement of this calm I had been narrowly watching the barometer, and, instead of its rising, it continued to fall, so that I might almost say that the mercury was seen to move in the tube. At 11h. 18m. P.M. the barometer had fallen to 28·700; at this instant a blast of wind, never to be forgotten by those who experienced it, came from the N.W., accompanied by rain, thunder, and lightning; blast upon blast of wind succeeded each other rapidly, if possible, increasing in force. Torrents of rain accompanied these blasts more rapidly and violently.
The heavens instantly became black and obscured—not a star was visible; for twelve minutes the barometer was stationary; then at 11h. 30m. P.M. it began to rise very gradually until midnight, when it was 28·720. At this time I went to observe if the magnetic instruments were affected by this storm, but the house shook so violently that it was impossible to read the instruments; these instruments were placed on pillars of solid masonry, which I had built for the purpose; the pillars were on the ground-floor, or basement of the house, and the instruments were so much agitated, that one was almost led to the belief that the ground on which the pillars were built was moved by an earthquake, and yet I think that it was only the violence of the wind.
My house was built of solid masonry, the outside walls from three to three-and-a-half feet thick, and the partition walls at least three feet thick. The houses are built with walls thus thick in order to make them cool, and yet my house moved as if built of wood; and at one time, when the wind came from the N.W., I expected it would have been swept into the sea. It was much shaken at that time, and immediately afterwards the rain began to make its way through the flat roof, and deluge the rooms.
Some idea of this blast of wind may be formed by my stating that I counted upwards of four hundred cocoa-nut trees which had all been uprooted by this one blast, the whole of them having been thrown on the ground towards the south.
In the city of Mozambique, the frightful darkness of night, unillumined by moon or stars, added to the horrors of the scene which this convulsion of nature produced.