The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1902-10-09
JOSEPHINE IN MARTINIQUE.
An Account Of the Great Hurricane Of
1866.

1866.
Although Martinique Is an earthly
paradise In its outward aspect, it has
always been subjected to the widest
convulsions Of nature. The first
white invaders were told by the ma
tive Caribs Of the fierce wind storms
which swept the island at unexpected
times and the French planters soon
learned that a case-a-vent, or hurri-
cane house, was an indispensable ad-
junct OF every plantation. These
were not unlike the Cyclone cellars"
OF the Western plains, though they
were usually built into or under the
side Of hill, with walls Of stone sew.
eral feet in thickness. The door was
OF thick plank, there were no windows,
and the air within, If the storm was
OF long duration, became most oppres.
sive.
The great hurricane which destroy.
ed the property of the father of the
future Empress of the French occur
red on the 18th Of August, 17G6, some
seven weeks after Josephine's third
birthday. Young as she was at the
time it made an indelible impression
on her mind, and after she was EN-.
press she used to thrill her ladies-in.
waiting by vivid descriptions Of that
day Of terrors. She had been snatched
from her morning bath by her father,
who had only time to wrap her in a
large both towel, and the full fury
Of the storm burst upon them as M.
Tascher and his baby daughter pass
ed through the door Of the case-a-yent,
where Madame Tascher and the terri.
fed household slaves had already
sought refuge.
Scarcely had the massive door been
closed and bolted than the hurricane
was upon them in all it's fury. The
tall palms writhed and bent beneath
its blows; mango and calabush, or.
ange and guave trees were quickly
stripped of their limbs or forcibly up
rooted; roof-tiles from the mansion,
boards from the negro quarter and
branches torn from trees were hurled
through the air. The door Of the case
a-vent groaned on its huge hinges, and
strained at the iron bars stretched
across it. The air within the cave
became hot to suffocation; means and
cries from the terrified negroes; but
little Josephine uttered not a word.
Close clasping her arms around her
fathers neck, and clinging also to her
mothers hand, she lay quiet and calm.
The hours passed slowly; but finally
the door ceased to train at it's fasten.
ings, and M. Tascber commanded the
huge negro who had charge of it to
omen 1t little way. Carefully and
slowly the bolts were drawn and day
light admitted. All was quiet without.
The darkness that had accompanied
the storm, caused by the dence clouds
and sheets of rain, had been dispelled
by the sun. which was now shining
brightly. The wind had died away to
moan; exhausted nature lay pros
trate, torn and bleeding. Hardly
tree was left standing; huge celbas,
cedars and sapote trees had been UP.
rooted and cast to the ground. But
the most mournful spectacle was the
palm avenue, for In place Of the
columnar trunks, with their waving
plumes, was ragged row Of shat
tered stumps. The huts of the
negroes. which had been grouped
about tie sugar mill, were entirely
destroyed and soon hundred despair.
ing beings were cropping in their ruins.
But the crowrjrg desolation Of all was
the total destruction of the Tascher
mansion.
Only the great sugar house remain
ed standing of all the buildings per.
tanning to the estate. To this struc'
ture the new homeless family direct
ed their steps. Its wolls were Of stone
some two feet in thickness, its raft
ers heavy and covered with earthen
tiles. the doorways were broad. with
granite lintels. Above the ground
foor, where the machinery was placed,
were two large chambers. The beams
supporting the floor were sound and
strong. and the floor itself intact, and
there the family took up their abode.
NJ. Tascher de La Pagerie never re-
built the great house, and thus fate, or
fortune, willed that Josephine should
know no other place of residence while
she lived in Trois-Dets. unless visit
ing at the house Of friend or at
school. But she was to live to know
still stranger places of abode; the
grim Carmelits prison, the stately pal
ace of the Tulleries and cheerful NAL
maison, in whose gardens she cherish.
ed the PLANTS of her native isle.