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.”