A tropical night is seldom quiet, what with the croaking of frogs, the
chirping of the cicadas, and some bird, insect, or reptile that
imitates the winding in of a fishing-reel for hours together, but
really the noise of the Jamaican nights after the earthquake was quite
unbearable. Negroes are very hysterical, and some black preachers had
utilised the earthquake to start a series of revival meetings, and
these were held just outside the grounds of King's House. Right
through the night they lasted, with continual hymn-singing, varied
with loud cries and groans. "Abide with me" is a beautiful hymn, but
really its beauties began to pall when it had been sung through from
beginning to end nine times running. Neither my nephew nor I could get
any sleep that first night owing to the blatant devotional exercises
of the overwrought negroes.
Both Sir Alexander and Lady Swettenham were really wonderful. He,
though an old man, only allowed himself five hours' sleep, and spent
his days at Headquarters House trying to bring the affairs of the
ruined city into some kind of order, and to start the every-day
machinery of ordinary civilised life again, for there were no shops,
no butchers or bakers, no clothing, no groceries--everything had been
destroyed, and had to be reconstructed.
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