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.