The West Indian Hurricane.

Woodville Examiner, Volume XVI, Issue 2898, 19 December 1898, Page 3

The West Indian Hurricane.

A THBILLING description. The Times publishes the letters received by Mr Bosworth Smith from his daughter, the wife of Mr H. Thompson, the Administrator of St. Vincent. The following are extracts : " Government House, St. Vincent, West Indies, " September 12. " We have just been through the most terrible experience, but it pleased God to preserve us all in safety. On Saturday, September 10, the glass fell alarmingly, and we heard a curious ground swell from Sfcubbs. The night was blowing, but nothing extraordinary; but at 5 a.m. the wind became violent. At 9 o'clock I saw a tree-top go, and I insisted on everyone going to the cellar. From 9 a.m. till a quarter to 12 the wind was awful, but I think the hurricane was at its height at 11 o'clock. I must tell you now, because I wish to put it from me, and forget if I can. This is Monday night; I have been in bed some hours, but can't sleep for horror, and I shall be glad to have written this letter. I can't describe the scene ; it is like an evil dream already. First, thera was a shock of earthquake, then the shipping in the bay got adrift, and some went out to sea, some broke up on the shore. The magnificent palms, the pride and delight of our eyes, lost every portion of their crowns, and now atand like hideous scarecrows ; their great limbs flew from every big tree ; the sound was indescribable. It was what one would picture hell—a boiling, whistling howl, that drowned the world in horror. I saw a vast tree fall near, but could hear nothing, and the room where we dined at Montrose blew over like a card house, but we could hear nothing but this frightful wind. It came in gusts of frantic violence; the poor horses were terrified, shivering, and mad to escape. I felt inwardly mad with terror, but one had to be quiet for the servants' sake. Humanly speaking, we were quite safe ; even if the house had blown down, I think the vaulting would have stood. It was very cold at times, and yet I felta I could not breathe for horrible oppression. The servants behaved adrnirably—so quiet and ( resigned and sensible. At quarter to 12 came a lull: we thought it was over, and came out. Such a scene of hideous desolation. The lovely gardens laid level to the ground, and there below nothing but striped trees, broken limbs, and a grey, hurrying sky. We saw at once that two houses—the C.'s, on Dorsetshire Hill, and the P.'s, on the Fort road, were obliterated. There was gieafc rain all the time. In about half an hour it grew dark again, and the wind came back, this time from south and west; the first time it came from north and east. I got them ail down again into the cellar, and the horses brought roupd again—only just in time. They would nut come—l bed to 3rive them all; it was like an awful

n'ghtmare, and then it burst on us again a hundrtd times more violently ; but the agony was I knew H. •had not time to have got into the town, and I felt for two hours that 1 should never see him again. I just spoke to the poor souls, and told them to ask God's protection, and then A. says I sat like a dead person for the awful two hours. I pray I may never live through such again. We stayed there till s—it seemed a year—and one could not trust the gradual abaiem ut of the storm. When we cam.- nut the desolation had increased a hundredfold. And then, poor souls came for refuge. Finally, we sheltered 30 houseless creatures, but as it was Sunday, it was hard-to'gft them food. And they brought awful tales ; but in the confusion they hardly knew what had happened. They knew people were dead under their houses in many places, and everywhere the same expressive words, ' Chauncey Village is all flat/ ' Towmans is all flat,' « Sharps is all flat.' Tuesday : The hospital was sadder than ever, so were the gangs of poor women coming in to forage for their children, so good and patient, and so unspeakably sad. Thank God, it was fine again. To see the little souls down with fever lying under a roof raised by stakes 2ft above the ground. . ." . But if the tears come to your eyes, it starts all the poor women off. Fancy, one woman, a Mrs Eobertson, we knew had her head cut clean off, and it was not found till next day. Oh, it is ghastly, ghastly. Many of them came to the shelters absolutely naked. And the blasted look beyond Prospect is like a bit of Dante's ' Inferno.'''