Chapter 2

Commencement of the Monsoon.

2.Monsoons.These are periodical winds, which sweep the northern part of the Indian Ocean, changing their direction after an interval of about six months, and hence the term Monsoon, the Anglicised form of the Persicmousum, or the Malaymoossin, signifying aseason, referring to their periodicity. Avoiding all minute detail, we shall merely give the range, direction, and duration of these singular, yet highly useful currents, and that in a very general way. From 3° south of the equator to the northern shores of the Indian Ocean, including the Arabian Sea, the Bay of Bengal, and the Chinese Sea, a south-west wind blows from April to October, and then a north-east wind sets in, and prevails through the next half year, from October to April. From 3° to 10° south of the equator a south-east wind blows from April to October, and a north-west during the succeeding six months. Without attending to local variations, these are the general phenomena. There is asouth-westwind prevailing north of the equator from April to October, and southward of this, through a certain space, at the same season, asouth-eastwind. There is anorth-eastwind north of the equator from October to April, and coincidently, anorth-westwind between 3° and 10° south of the line. The western boundary of the region of the monsoons is the African shore; its eastern limit is supposed to be about the meridian of 136° east longitude, which cuts the island of New Guinea; its northern confine is near the parallel of 27° north latitude, which intersects the Loo Choo islands; its southern extremity has been already stated. The monsoons are much stronger than the trade winds, and may be called gales, but they are by no means of uniform force, either as it respects themselves or each other, the same monsoon occasionally blowing with such violence that ships are obliged to reef their sails. It must not be imagined that these winds are confined to the ocean. They extend over the whole of Hindûstan to the Himalaya, the north-east monsoon bringing copious rains to its eastern shores, and the south-west monsoon performing the same office for its western coast.

The change of the monsoon—the periodical shifting of the wind—the most singular feature of the case, is a gradual process, usually occupying about a month, which reduces the reign of the two annual monsoons, north and south of the equator, to fivemonths each, the remaining two months being spent in the transitions. In each interval of change, calms, light variable breezes, alternate with storms of tremendous violence. Mr. Caunter thus describes the scene at Madras, in the interim between the cessation of one monsoon and the setting in of another: “On the 15th of October, the flag-staff was struck, as a signal for all vessels to leave the roads, lest they should be overtaken by the monsoon. On that very morning some premonitory symptoms of the approaching “war of elements” had appeared. As the house we occupied overlooked the beach, we could behold the setting in of the monsoon in all its grand and terrific sublimity. The wind, with a force which nothing could resist, bent the tufted heads of the tall, slim cocoa-nut trees almost to the earth, flinging the light sand into the air in eddying vortices, until the rain had either so increased its gravity, or beaten it into a mass, as to prevent the wind from raising it. The pale lightning streamed from the clouds in broad sheets of flame, which appeared to encircle the heavens as if every element had been converted into fire, and the world was on the eve of a general conflagration, whilst the peal, which instantly followed, was like the explosion of a gunpowder magazine. The heavens seemed to be one vast reservoir of flame, which was propelled from its voluminous bed by some invisible but omnipotent agency, and threatened to fling its fiery ruin upon every thing around. In some parts, however, of the pitchy vapor by which the skies were by this time completely overspread, the lightning was seen only occasionally to glimmer in faint streaks of light, as if struggling, but unable, to escape from its prison, igniting, but too weak to burst, the impervious bosoms of those capacious magazines in which it was at once engendered and pent up. So heavy and continuous was the rain, that scarcely any thing, save those vivid bursts of light which nothing could arrest or resist, was perceptible through it. The thunder was so painfully loud, that it frequently caused the ear to throb; it seemed as if mines were momentarily springing in the heavens, and I could almost fancy that one of the sublimest fictions of heathen fable was realized at this moment before me, and that I was hearing an assault of the Titans. The surf was raised by the wind and scattered in thin billows of foam over the esplanade, which was completely powdered with the white, feathery spray. It extended several hundred yards from the beach; fish, upward of three inches long, were found upon the flat roofs of houses in the town, during the prevalence of the monsoon, either blown from the sea by the violence of the gales, or taken up in the water-spouts, which are very prevalent in this tempestuous season. When these burst, whatever they contain is frequently borne by the sweeping blast to a considerable distance over-land, and deposited in the most uncongenial situations; so that now, during the violence of these tropical storms, fish are found alive on the tops of houses; nor is this any longer a matter of surprise to the established resident in India, who sees every year a repetition of this singular phenomenon. During the extreme violence of the storm, the heat was occasionally almost beyond endurance, particularly after the first day or two, when the wind would at intervals entirely subside, so that not a breath of air could be felt, and the punka afforded but a partial relief to that distressing sensation which is caused by the oppressive stillness of the air so well known in India.” It is an extraordinary but well-ascertained fact, that as soon as one monsoon ceases, though a month may elapse before the succeeding one appears, the clouds take the direction of the approaching monsoon, and thus from the regions of the atmosphere herald its advent to the dwellers below.

We naturally inquire concerning the origin of these peculiar movements, but must be content with a very scanty measure of information upon the subject. The laws which nature obeys in these periodical changes are undoubtedly identical with those which give rise to atmospheric currents in general, but their mode of operation is in this case obscure. The north-east and south-east monsoons, the former on the north and the latter on the south side of the equator, may be considered as trade winds, explicable upon the same principles, but counteracted for a certain time by causes which produce winds from a different quarter, the south-west and north-west monsoons. It has been observed that the south-west monsoon, which prevails to the north of the equator, is coincident with the sun being vertical to that region, when Hindûstan, Siam, and the adjacent countries receive their maximum of heat. Consequently, the incumbent air, being rarefied, ascends, and a rush of colder air to supply its place, is produced from the southward, which is then receiving the oblique rays of the sun, and which presenting a surface of water is immensely less heated than the lands to which the luminary is perpendicular. In like manner, the north-west monsoon, which prevails south of the equator, is coincident with the sun being south of it likewise, and vertical to the region, when the sandy plains of New Holland become powerfully heated, and the air over them rarefied, creating a wind by the rush of the colder northern air toward the point of rarefaction. These are the explanations commonly given, and though in several respects they do not account for all the phenomena, yet the probability is, that they present the correct theory, anomalous circumstances arising from the influence of causes which are local and as yet unknown. The monsoons are more valuable as auxiliaries to commerce than the trade winds, owing to the change in their direction, for a ship may proceed to a distant port with one monsoon and be aided on its return by its successor.

3.Land and sea breezes.A line in one of our popular songs,

“How sweetly the breeze blows off the shore,”

refers to the wind which begins at evening to blow from the coasts situated between and near the tropics: and an equally grateful breeze blows by day from the sea to the shore in those warm climates. The inequality of the solar action on the land andwater, together with the tendency of the atmosphere to preserve an uniform density, is the cause of these periodically shifting currents. During the day the land acquires a temperature higher than that of the ocean, and the air over it is therefore rarefied and ascends, and the cooler air from the sea glides in to fill the partial vacuum produced. At night, the land rapidly cools with the atmosphere over it, but the sea and the air in connection with it retain a nearly equal temperature, in consequence of which, the colder and heavier land-air displaces the less dense or lighter air over the water, and a wind from the shore is created. The smoke of Vesuvius beautifully exemplifies this diurnal change in the direction of the atmospheric currents along the shore, its long tail stretching landward for a few hours, and then veering round to seaward. In the Mediterranean and the West Indies, the land breeze usually begins at six or seven o’clock in the evening, and blows until eight in the morning, when the sea breeze begins, increasing till mid-day, and gradually dying away in the afternoon, a period of stillness occurring between the changes, as between the ebbing and flowing of the tide. The sea-breeze of the Mediterranean in summer is said to be perceptible sometimes as far north as Norway. These draughts of the cool air of the ocean are important benefactions to various countries, where the heat would otherwise be insupportable. Along the coast of Malabar, the alternate breezes are powerfully felt, the land wind extending in summer a considerable distance out to sea, redolent with the roses and spices of the shore. Though the land and sea breezes are most sensible in tropical countries, yet in far remote latitudes, and especially around lakes, the same diurnal shifting in the direction of the wind is experienced. The change of temperature in the air over a spacious lake, caused by the succession of day and night, has been computed to be about thirty times less than that which takes place in the atmosphere of the surrounding land—the air over the land being much more heated during the day, and much less heated during the night, than that over the lake—an inequality of temperature which necessarily occasions a breeze from the lake by day, and toward it by night.

Vesuvius from St. Elmo.

The old and faithful voyager, Captain Dampier, in a quaint but pleasing style, has given the most exact description of these remarkable winds, as they occur in tropical latitudes. “These sea-breezes do commonly rise in the morning about nine o’clock, sometimes sooner, sometimes later; they first approach the shore so gently, as if they were afraid to come near it, and ofttimes they make some faint breathings, and, as if not willing to offend, they make a halt, and seem ready to retire. I have waited many a time, both ashore to receive the pleasure, and at sea to take the benefit of it. It comes in a fine, small, black curl upon the water, whereas all the sea between it and the shore, not yet reached by it, is as smooth and even as glass in comparison. In half an hour’s time after it has reached the shore, it fans pretty briskly, and so increaseth, gradually, till twelve o’clock; then it is commonly strongest, and lasts so till two or three a very brisk gale; about twelve at noon it also veers off to sea two or three points, or more in very fair weather. After threeo’clock, it begins to die away again, and gradually withdraws its force till all is spent; and about five o’clock, sooner or later, according as the weather is, it is lulled asleep, and comes no more till the next morning.

“Land-breezes are as remarkable as any winds that I have yet treated of; they are quite contrary to the sea-breezes; for those blow right from the shore, but the sea-breeze right in upon the shore; and as the sea-breezes do blow in the day and rest in the night, so, on the contrary, these do blow in the night and rest in the day, and so they do alternately succeed each other. For when the sea-breezes have performed their offices of the day, by breathing on their respective coasts, they, in the evening, do either withdraw from the coast, or lie down to rest. Then the land-winds, whose office it is to breathe in the night, moved by the same order of divine impulse, do rouse out of their private recesses, and gently fan the air till the next morning, and then their task ends, and they leave the stage. There can be no proper time set when they do begin in the evening, or when they retire in the morning, for they do not keep to an hour, but they commonly spring up between six and twelve in the evening, and last till six, eight, or ten in the morning. They both come and go away again earlier or later, according to the weather, the season of the year, or some accidental cause from the land. For, on some coasts, they do rise earlier, blow fresher, and remain later than on other coasts, as I shall show hereafter.

“These winds blow off to sea, a greater or less distance, according as the coast lies more or less exposed to the sea-winds; for, in some places, we find them brisk three or four leagues off shore; in other places, not so many miles, and, in some places, they scarce peep without the rocks; or if they do sometimes, in very fair weather, make a sally out a mile or two, they are not lasting, but suddenly vanish away, though yet, there are every night as fresh land-winds ashore, at these places, as in any other part of the world. Indeed, these winds are an extraordinary blessing to those that use the sea in any part of the world within the tropics; for as the constant trade-winds do blow, there could be no sailing in these seas; but by the help of the sea and land-breezes, ships will sail 200 or 300 leagues, as particularly from Jamaica to the Lagune of Trist, in the Bay of Campeachy, and then back again, all against the trade-wind. The seamen that sail in sloops or other small vessels in the West Indies do know very well when they shall meet a brisk land-wind by the fogs that hang over the land before night; for it is a certain sign of a good land-wind to see a thick fog lie still and quiet, like smoke over the land, not stirring any way; and we look out for such signs when we are plying to windward. For if we see no fog over the land, the land-wind will be but faint and short that night. These signs are to be observed chiefly in fair weather; for in the wet season fogs do hang over the land all the day, and it may be neither land-wind nor sea-breeze stirring. If in the afternoon, also, in fair weather, we see a tornado over the land, it commonly sends us forth a fresh land-wind. These land-winds are very cold, and though the sea-breezes are always much stronger, yet these are colder by far. The sea-breezes, indeed, are very comfortable and refreshing; for the hottest time in all the day, is about nine, ten, or eleven o’clock in the morning, in the interval between both breezes; for then it is commonly calm, and then people pant for breath, especially if it is late before the sea-breeze comes, but afterward the breeze allays the heat. However, in the evening again, after the sea-breeze is spent, it is very hot till the land-wind springs up, which is sometimes not till twelve o’clock or after.”

4.Etesian winds.The ancients gave this designation, fromannual, to periodical winds which blow from the north-east in the summer months, for about six weeks, throughout the Mediterranean and adjacent countries, but mostly in the eastern branch, including the Adriatic and the Archipelago. The term Meltem is now applied to them by the fishermen, a corruption, probably, ofmal temps, referring to the fury with which they blow, and to the danger to which their small craft become exposed. On land, they are more favorably regarded. These winds are noticed by Pliny, Seneca, and Cicero, the latter of whom says, that in Italy they are equally comfortable and salutary to men, beasts, and birds, and likewise beneficial to vegetation, by moderating the violent heat of the weather during the inclement season of the dog-days. In the Levant, they commence toward the middle of July, about nine in the morning, continuing only in the day-time. The sun at that season is powerfully heating the earth under the tropic of Cancer, and rarefying the atmosphere south of the Mediterranean, thus giving birth to the north-east etesian gales.

5.Khamsin,Samiel,Simoom,Harmattan,Sirocco. These are local titles of winds differing greatly in geographical position and direction, and also in some of their properties, but prevalent in desert regions, or in countries adjacent to them, and having one universal character of being hot blasts. The Khamsin is a hot south wind, which soon after the vernal equinox begins to blow in Egypt, continuing at intervals during a period of about fifty days, to which the name refers. The two next are entirely identical, the Samiel being the name given by the Turks to the wind which the Arabs called the Simoom. It is common in Syria, Arabia, and Nubia, deleterious in its mildest forms, occasionally destructive, many a pilgrim to the shrine of the Prophet at Mecca, and merchant to the marts of Bagdad, having perished by its noxious suffocating influence. Bruce suffered from it when ascending the Nile, he and his company becoming so enervated as to be incapable of pitching their tents, oppressed as well by an intolerable headache. “The poisonous simoom,” he remarks, when at Chendi, “blew as if it came from an oven; our eyes were dim, our lips cracked, our knees tottering, our throats perfectly dry; and no relief was found from drinking an immoderate quantity of water.” The most complete account of the simoom and its effects has been givenby Volney, whose accuracy here has been repeatedly confirmed. “Travelers,” he states, “have mentioned these winds under the name of poisonous winds; or, more correctly, hot winds of the desert. Such in fact is their quality; and their heat is sometimes so excessive that it is difficult to form an idea of their violence without having experienced it; but it may be compared to the heat of a large oven at the moment of drawing out the bread. When these winds begin to blow, the atmosphere assumes an alarming aspect. The sky, at other times so clear in this climate, becomes dark and heavy; the sun loses its splendor, and appears of a violet color. The air is not cloudy, but gray and thick; and is in fact filled with an extremely subtle dust, that penetrates everywhere. This wind, always light and rapid, is not at first remarkably hot, but it increases in heat in proportion as it continues. All animated bodies soon discover it by the change it produces in them. The lungs, which a too rarefied air no longer expands, are contracted and become painful. Respiration is short and difficult, the skin parched and dry, and the body consumed by an internal heat. In vain is recourse had to large draughts of water; nothing can restore perspiration. In vain is coolness sought for; all bodies in which it is usual to find it deceive the hand that touches them. Marble, iron, water, notwithstanding the sun no longer appears, are hot. The streets are deserted, and the dead silence of night reigns everywhere. The inhabitants of towns and villages shut themselves up in their houses—and those of the desert in their tents, or in pits they dig in the earth—where they wait the termination of this destructive heat. It usually lasts three days, but if it exceeds that time it becomes insupportable. Wo to the traveler whom this wind surprises remote from shelter! he must suffer all its dreadful consequences, which sometimes are mortal. The danger is most imminent when it blows in squalls, for then the rapidity of the wind increases the heat to such a degree as to cause sudden death. This death is a real suffocation; the lungs being empty are convulsed, the circulation disordered, and the whole mass of blood driven by the heat toward the head and breast; whence that hæmorrhage at the nose and mouth which happens after death. This wind is especially fatal to persons of a plethoric habit, and those in whom fatigue has destroyed the tone of the muscles and vessels. The corpse remains a long time warm, swells, turns blue, and is easily separated; all of which are signs of that putrid fermentation which takes place when the humors become stagnant. These accidents are to be avoided by stopping the nose and mouth with handkerchiefs; an efficacious method is also that practiced by the camels, who bury their noses in the sand, and keep them there till the squall is over. Another quality of this wind is its extreme aridity, which is such, that water sprinkled upon the floor evaporates in a few minutes. By this extreme dryness it withers and strips all the plants, and by exhaling too suddenly the emanations from animal bodies, crisps the skin, closes the pores, and causes that feverish heat which is the invariable effect of suppressed perspiration.” The current of the simoom is seldom of any considerable breadth, but different examples of it have been traversing a tract of country of but scanty area at the same time, and several cases of disaster from it upon an extensive scale are upon record. The opinion is now commonly held, that the destruction of the Assyrian army, when

“The angel of death spread his wings on the blast,And breathed in the face of the foe as he passedAnd the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,And their hearts but once heaved, and forever grew still,”

“The angel of death spread his wings on the blast,

And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed

And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,

And their hearts but once heaved, and forever grew still,”

was accomplished by the agency of the simoom, directed by the Almighty Will over the host of Senacherib—an interpretation which the terms of the prophetic announcement of the avenging stroke remarkably support: “Behold I will send a blast upon him.”

The Harmattan, a periodical hot wind from the desert, differs remarkably from the simoom. It blows from the interior of the great Sahara, from the north-east, over Senegambia and Guinea, to that part of the coast of Africa lying between Cape Verde in 15° north latitude to Cape Lopez in1° south latitude, a coast line of upward of two thousand miles. It occurs during December, January, and February, generally three or four times in that season. The harmattan is the local name of the wind among the Fantees, a nation on the Gold Coast. It comes on indiscriminately at any hour of the day, at any time of the tide, or at any period of the moon, continuing sometimes only a day or two, at other times five or six days, and it has been known to last upward of a fortnight. A fog or haze is one of the peculiarities which always accompanies this wind, occasioning a gloom which frequently renders even near objects obscure, through which the sun appears for a short time about noon, having a wild red aspect. Though the wind blows out to sea for ten or twelve leagues, the fog is confined to the land, and leaves a deposition of fine whitish particles upon the grass and trees. Extreme dryness is another property of the harmattan. No dew falls during its continuance, nor is there the least appearance of moisture in the atmosphere. Vegetables of every kind suffer; all tender plants and most of the productions of the garden are destroyed; the grass withers, and becomes dry like hay; vigorous evergreens feel the pernicious influence; the branches of the lemon, orange, and lime trees droop, the leaves become flaccid, and so parched as to be easily rubbed to dust between the fingers, should the harmattan blow for several successive days. Among other extraordinary effects of the extreme dryness, it is stated, that the covers of books, though closely shut up in a trunk, are bent as if they had been exposed to a fire. Household furniture cracks, the panels of the doors split, and any veneered work flies to pieces. Another, and the most striking feature of the harmattan, is its salubrity. Though prejudicial to vegetable life, and occasioning disagreeable parching effects on the human species, yet it is highly conducive to health, those laboring previously under fevers generallyrecover during its prevalence, the feeble gain strength, and malignant diseases disappear. It seems that as this wind immediately follows the rainy season on the African coast, during which diseases are induced by an excess of moisture, the harmattan, invested with extraordinary dryness, removes humidity from the atmosphere, and counteracts its effects.

The Sirocco is analogous to the Khamsin, but milder. It is a hot south-east wind prevailing in the Mediterranean, in Italy and Sicily, but felt most violently in the country around Naples, and at Palermo. It sometimes commences faintly about the summer solstice, but blows occasionally with great force in the month of July. Mr. Brydone, writing from Palermo, and referring to July 8th, observes—

“On Sunday, we had the long-expected sirocco wind, which, although our expectations had been raised pretty high, yet I own greatly exceeded them. Friday and Saturday were uncommonly cool, the mercury never being higher than 72½: and, although the sirocco is said to have set in early on Sunday morning, the air in our apartments, which are very large, with high ceilings, was not in the least affected by it at eight o’clock, when I rose. I opened the door without having any suspicion of such a change, and, indeed, I never was more astonished in my life. The first blast of it on my face felt like the burning steam from the mouth of an oven. I drew back my head and shut the door, calling out to Fullarton that the whole atmosphere was in a flame. However, we ventured to open another door that leads to a cool platform, where we usually walk; this was not exposed to the wind, and here I found the heat much more supportable than I could have expected from the first specimen I had of it at the other door. It felt somewhat like the subterraneous sweating-stoves at Naples, but still much hotter. In a few minutes, we found every fibre greatly relaxed, and the pores opened to such a degree, that we expected soon to be thrown into a profuse sweat. I went to examine the thermometer, and found the air in the room as yet so little affected that it stood only at 73. The preceding night it was at 72½. I took it out in the open air, when it immediately rose to 110, and soon after to 112; and I am confident, that in our old lodgings, or anywhere within the city, it must have risen several degrees higher. The air was thick and heavy, but the barometer was little affected—it had fallen only about a line. The sun did not once appear the whole day, otherwise I am persuaded the heat must have been insupportable; on that side of our platform which is exposed to the wind, it was with difficulty we could bear it for a few minutes. Here I exposed a little pomatum, which was melted down as if I had laid it before the fire. I attempted to take a walk in the street, to see if any creature was stirring, but I found it too much for me, and was glad to get up stairs again. This extraordinary heat continued till three o’clock in the afternoon, when the wind changed at once, almost to the opposite point of the compass.” All nature languishes under the influence of this wind: vegetation droops and withers; the Italians suffering from it not less than strangers. When any feeble literary production appears, the strongest phrase of disapprobation they can bestow is—era scritto in temps del sirocco, “it was written in the time of the sirocco.” There can be little doubt but that this hot south-east wind sweeps across the Mediterranean from the shores of Africa. It is some compensation that the season of this oppressive blast is also that of the north-east Etesian winds, and not unfrequently, after a few hours’ experience of the enfeebling influence of the sirocco, the tramontane—or north wind—follows with its invigorating breath.

Hot winds, resembling the sirocco of Sicily and Italy, prevail in New South Wales, and are supposed to derive their heat from tracts of unknown deserts in the intertropical regions of that island-continent. “One might almost fancy,” says Mrs. Meredith, “the Ancient Mariner to have experienced one during his ghostly voyage, he so accurately describes their aspect—

All in a hot and copper sky,The bloody sun, at noon,Right up above the mast did stand,No bigger than the moon.

All in a hot and copper sky,

The bloody sun, at noon,

Right up above the mast did stand,

No bigger than the moon.

The sirocco of that country always blows from the north-west. At Sydney, its oven-like temperature is moderated by the mid-day sea-breeze; but in the interior it is severely felt, and is often fatal to the vegetation. Every green thing droops and dies, dried up like half-burnt paper. Large tracts of cultivated land, covered with luxuriant green crops of wheat or barley, just going into ear, are scorched, shriveled, and absolutely blackened by the heat, and become fit for nothing but to be cut as litter; and of course the delicate plants and flowers of the gardens are not spared by the “burning breath of the fervid Air-king.”

6.Hurricanes.—Sudden and tremendous bursts of storm are common in mountainous districts, and in the plains which lie at the base of those vast piles of nature’s building. Their peaks, exposed by elevation to intense cold, and covered with perpetual snow, cool and condense the warm air rising up from the regions below, which descends with an impetus proportioned to its own gravity and the lighter condition of the air over the regions below, and a tempest ensues upon considerable condensation and rarefaction in adjoining regions of the atmosphere. This is the origin of thepamperos, or south-west winds, which rush from the snows of the Andes, and sweeping over the level pampas with unchecked violence, become hurricanes before their arrival at Buenos Ayres, and carry to the city clouds of dust collected from the plains, occasioning almost total darkness in the streets. So sudden is the operation of the pampero, that persons bathing in the river Plate have been drowned by the agitation of its waters, through the tempest, before they could possibly reach the shore. Captain Fitzroy relates, when in his ship upon the river, that a small boat had been hauled ashore above high-water mark, and fastened with a strong rope to a large stone; but the pampero set in, and afterward the boat was found far from thebeach, shattered to pieces, but still fast to the stone, which it had dragged along.

Hurricane in the Tropics.

But this violent movement of the atmosphere is remarkably beneficial in its general effect to the inhabitants of the pampas of Buenos Ayres and on the banks of the Plata. The prevailing winds through a great part of the year are northerly; and these passing over extensive marshy tracts bring with them a degree of humidity, which renders the land rife with fever and pestilence, till the pampero rushes down from the Andes and clears the atmosphere. A somewhat similar wind is one of our own physical phenomena, hitherto unexplained, to the violence of which the tourist to the Cumberland lakes may occasionally be exposed in spring and autumn. This is the Helm-wind. Hutchinson, in the history of the county, and the Rev. J. Watson, in a report to the British Association, have given an account of its singular features. When not a breath of air is stirring, or a cloud is to be seen, a line of clouds will be suddenly formed over the summits of the lofty ridge of mountains at Hartside, extending several miles on the western side. To this collection of vapors the term Helm is applied from its shape. It exhibits an awful and solemn appearance, spreading a gloom over the regions below, like the shadows of night. Parallel to this, another line of clouds, called the Bar, begins to form. The two lines unite together at their extremities, and embrace between them an elliptical cloudless space, from half a mile to four or five miles in breadth, and from eight to thirty miles in length; the breadth being from east to west, and the length from north to south. Soon after the complete formation of the Helm-bar, a violent wind issues from the space between the clouds, generally blowing directly from the east, and with such power that trees have been dismantled of their foliage, stacks of grain dispersed, and heavy vehicles overturned. The Helm-wind has continued for as much as nine days together, with a noise resembling that of a violent sea-storm, but it is seldom accompanied with any rain. It has been suggested, that the air from the coast of Northumberland, being cooled as it rises to the summit of the mountains, and there condensed, descends from thence with great force, by its gravity, into the district, to the west of Hartside, the scene of the phenomenon: but obviously a variety of other causes must enter into its production.

In several parts of the globe, an extensive vacuum being suddenly created in the atmosphere by the agency of electricity, the surrounding air rushes in with immense impetuosity from all points of the compass, blowing in gusts of resistless power, destroying all the productions of the earth, leveling forests and the finest buildings, and inundating whole tracts of country by the deluge of rain with which they are accompanied. These storms seldom occur far out in the open ocean, or beyond the tropics, or nearer the equator than nine or ten degrees. Their principal localities are the West India Islands, those of Madagascar, Mauritius, and Bourbon, the north-west coast of Africa, the Bay of Bengal, and the Chinese Sea, where they are variously called hurricanes, tornadoes, and typhoons. A heavy swell upon the sea, a dusky redness of the sky, a close oppressive air, and a wild irregularity in the appearance of things, are the usual precursors of a tropical tempest. Though generally confined to the districts mentioned, where they are of frequent occurrence, the extra-tropical latitudes, at more distant intervals, experience the force of the hurricane.

When were the windsLet slip with such a warrant to destroy?When did the waves so haughtily o’erleapTheir ancient barriers, deluging the dry?”

When were the winds

Let slip with such a warrant to destroy?

When did the waves so haughtily o’erleap

Their ancient barriers, deluging the dry?”

This is the language of Cowper in the Task, respecting the year 1783, when—amid the other events of that portentous season, noticed upon a previous page—a succession of storms, accompanied with violent rains, visited the whole of Great Britain, and caused considerable damage. But what is known in our records as the “Great Storm,” occurred on the night of the 26th and the morning of the 27th of November 1703, and has been referred to by almost all thewriters of that period. Derham, in the Philosophical Transactions for the year following, states—

“Of the preceding parts of the year (1703), the months of April, May, June, and July were wet in the southern parts of England, particularly in May, when more rain fell than in any month of any year since 1690; June also was very wet; and though July had considerable intermissions, yet on the 28th and 29th there fell violent showers of rain, and the newspapers gave accounts of great rains that month from divers places of Europe. On Thursday, November 25th, the day before the tempest, in the morning there was a little rain, the winds high in the afternoon. In the evening there was lightning, and between nine and ten o’clock at night, a violent but short storm of wind, and much rain. Next morning, November 26th, the wind was S. S. W., and high all day, and so continued till I was in bed and asleep. About twelve that night the storm awakened me, which gradually increased till near three that morning, and from thence till near seven it continued with the greatest violence; then it began to abate slowly and the mercury to rise swiftly.” This tempest filled the whole kingdom with terror, and produced immense commercial loss, and many melancholy accidents. The country between the Loire in France and the Trent in England was the chief scene of its ravages. The historians of those times give an affecting account of the dismal appearance of the district. Houses unroofed—steeples blown down—stacks of corn scattered abroad—vessels dismasted or wrecked—and upward of eight thousand persons drowned. “The wind,” says Oldmixon, “blew west-south-west, and grumbled like thunder, accompanied with flashes of lightning. It threw down several battlements and stacks of chimneys at St. James’ Palace; tore to pieces tall trees in the Park; and killed a servant in the house. The Guard-house at Whitehall was much damaged, as was the Banqueting-house. A great deal of lead was blown off Westminster Abbey; and most of the lead on churches and houses either rolled up in sheets or loosened. The pious and learned prelate Doctor Richard Kidder, Bishop of Bath and Wells, and his lady, were killed by the fall of part of the old episcopal palace at Wells. The Bishop of London’s sister, Lady Penelope Nicholas, was killed in like manner at Horsely in Sussex, and Sir John Nicholas—her husband—grievously hurt.” Upward of 800 houses, 400 windmills, and 250,000 timber-trees were thrown down; 100 churches unroofed; 300 sail lost upon the coast; 900 wherries and barges destroyed on the Thames; the Eddystone light-house, built by Winstanley, was overthrown; 15,000 sheep, besides other cattle, were drowned by the overflowing of the Severn; and Rear-Admiral Beaumont, with the crews of several ships, perished on the Goodwin Sands.

The West Indies and the vicinity of the Mauritius seem to be two principal foci of hurricanes, from their frequency and tremendous violence in those localities. Of thirteen hurricanes, described by Colonel Reid, in his interesting attempt to develop the law of storms, eleven took place in the neighborhood of the Mauritius and Madagascar, which sanctions an opinion prevalent among seamen, that gales are commonly avoided by ships steering in a course so as to keep well to the eastward of the Mauritius. To give some idea of a tropical hurricane, the particulars gathered by Colonel Reid from various sources, respecting that which desolated several of the West India Islands in the year 1831, are here introduced. It passed over Barbadoes, St. Lucia, St. Domingo, and Cuba, swept the northern shores of the Gulf of Mexico, raged simultaneously at Pensacola, Mobile, and New Orleans, entered the adjoining states, and seems to have been disorganized by the opposition offered to its progress by the mountain region of the Alleghanies. The hurricane accomplished the distance of 2000 miles in 150 hours, at an average velocity of 13½ miles an hour, but the rate of its progressive motion was insignificant in comparison with that of its rotatory movement, a feature hereafter to be adverted to. Before its arrival at St. Vincent, a cloud was observed to the north by a resident, so threatening in its aspect and peculiar in its color, that ofolive green, that, impressed with a sense of impending danger, he hastened home, and by nailing up his doors and windows saved his house from the general calamity. In this island, the most remarkable effect of the storm was the destruction of an extensive forest at its northern extremity, the trees of which werekilled without being blown down. In 1832, these trees were frequently examined by Colonel Reid, and appeared not to have been killed by the wind, but by the immense quantity of electric matter rendered active during the storm. When at its height, two negroes at Barbadoes were greatly terrified by sparks of electricity passing off from one of them, as they were struggling in the darkness, in the garden of Coddrington College, to reach the main building, after the destruction of their hut. Such was the quantity of spray carried inland from the sea by the wind, that it rained salt water over the whole island, which killed the fresh-water fish in the ponds, and several ponds continued salt for some days after the storm. The afternoon that ushered in the hurricane, that of the 11th of August, was one of dismal gloom, but about four o’clock, there was anobscure circle of imperfect light toward the zenithsubtending an angle of 35° or 40°. Variable squalls of wind and rain, with intervening calms, prevailed till midnight, when the lightning flashed fearfully, and a gale blew fiercely from the north and north-east. At 1 A. M. the wind increased, but suddenly shifted its quarter, blowing from north-west and intermediate points. Toward three o’clock, after a little intermission, the hurricane again burst from the western points, hurling before it thousands of missiles—the fragments of every unsheltered work of human art. The strongest houses vibrated to their foundations, and the surface of the earth trembled as the destroyer passed over it. There was no thunder at any time distinctly heard, but the horrible roar and yelling of the wind, the noise of the ocean, whose waves threatened the destruction of every thing inBarbadoes that the other elements might spare, the clattering of tiles, the falling of roofs and walls, and the combination of a thousand other sounds, formed a hideous and appalling din. As soon as the dawn rendered outward objects visible, and, the storm abating, permitted the inhabitants of Bridgetown to venture out, a grand but distressing picture of ruin presented itself. From the summit of the cathedral tower, the whole face of the country appeared the wreck of its former condition. No sign of vegetation could be observed, except here and there a few patches of sickly green. The surface of the ground exhibited the scorching and blackening effect of the lightning. A few remaining trees, stripped of their boughs and foliage, wore a cold and wintry aspect; and the numerous villas in the neighborhood, formerly concealed amid thick groves, were exposed and in ruins.

In the year 1837, three hurricanes occurred in the West Indies and adjacent parts of the Atlantic, the narratives of which, as collected by Colonel Reid from different observers, present some singular features. The first passed over Barbadoes on the 26th of July. The sky assumed a blue-black appearance, with a red glare at the verge of the horizon. The flashes of lightning were accompanied with a whizzing noise, like that of a red-hot iron plunged in water. The barometer and sympiesometer fell rapidly and sunk to 28·45 inches. The Antigua hurricane, the second of that year, commenced in the Atlantic, on the night of the 31st of July, and was encountered by Captain Seymour, in the brigantine Judith and Esther of Cork. He observed near the zenitha white appearance of a round form, and while looking stedfastly at it, a sudden gust of wind carried away the topmast and lower scudding sails. During the hurricane the eyes of the crew were remarkably affected, their sight became dim, and every one of theirfinger-nails turned quite black, and remained so nearly five weeks afterward. The captain inferred, from the universality of the effect, that it could not have been produced by the firmness of the grasp with which they were holding by the rigging, but that the whole was caused by an electric body in the elements. On the 2d of August, in another situation, the Water Witch was caught by the skirts of the same storm, the wind blowing in squalls from the W. and N. N. W. till the evening, when “a calm succeeded,” states Captain Newby, “for about ten minutes; and then, in the most tremendous, unearthly screech I ever heard, it recommenced from the south and south-west.” The third hurricane of the year was met with by the Rawlins, about midnight of the 18th of August, when, after blowing violently for twelve hours from the north, in an instant a perfect calm ensued for an hour, and then, quick as thought, the wind sprung up with tremendous force from the south-west, no swell whatever preceding the convulsion. During this hurricane, an extraordinary phenomenon presented itself, resembling asolid, black, perpendicular wallabout 15° or 20° above the horizon, which disappeared and became visible again several times, described by one of the observers, as “the most appalling sight he had ever seen during his life at sea.” A similar spectacle is described by an officer on board the ship Tartarus, during a hurricane on the American coast in the year 1814:—“No horizon appeared, but only a something resembling animmense wallwithin ten yards of the ship.” The power of the wind was remarkably exemplified during the great hurricane of 1780, which at Barbadoes forced its way into every part of the Government-house, and tore off most of the roof, though the walls were three feet thick, and the doors and windows had been well barricaded. Obliged to retreat from thence, the governor and his family fled to the ruins of the foundation of the flag-staff, and, compelled to relinquish that station, they with difficulty reached the cannon of the fortifications, under the carriages of which they took shelter. But here they were not secure, for the cannons were moved by the fury of the wind, and they dreaded every moment that the guns would be dismounted, and crush them by their fall. From the preceding accounts it appears that the agency of electricity is frequently extensively developed in hurricanes; that they have a progressive motion; that calms of short duration occur during their continuance; after which the wind bursts forth from a quarter different to that from which it has been blowing—peculiarities which have led to a theory respecting storms which may be considered as established in its leading principles.

Down to a very recent date, a hurricane was generally deemed to be simply a gale of wind pursuing with immense velocity a rectilinear direction. Colonel Capper departed from this idea after investigating the storms of the Indian Ocean, and published the conclusion in the year 1801, that the hurricanes he had examined in that region were real whirlwinds of varying diameter, having a progressive as well as a rotatory motion. The evidence collected from the records of an immense number of storms in the Atlantic by Mr. Redfield, of New York, and in the Indian Ocean by Colonel Reid, seems to place beyond all dispute the fact, that they occur in the form of a ring, having an outer circle, where the air revolves with intense velocity, and an interior space, the diameter of which is sometimes equal to several hundred miles, the vortex of the whirlwind, which is the scene of gusts and lulls, a comparatively slow progressive motion on the surface of land and sea distinguishing the whole. A hurricane which occurred at New Brunswick in the year 1835 strikingly exhibited the character of a revolving storm; for, while about the centre bodies of great weight were carried spirally upward, at the extremities the trees were thrown in opposite directions. The same circumstance was observed at Barbadoes in 1831, near the northern coast: the trees which the hurricane uprooted lay from N. N. W. to S. S. E., having been thrown down by a northerly wind, while in some other parts of the island they lay from S. to N., having been prostrated by a southerly wind. It is evident, therefore, that the direction of the wind at a particular point affords no indication of the course in which the whole revolving mass of the atmosphereis advancing. Another singular conclusion respecting storms, which the American and Anglican philosophers, along with Professor Dove of Berlin, have arrived at by independent investigations, is, that the hurricanes in the southern hemisphere revolve in acounter directionto those in the northern; and while the axis of a storm in the North Atlantic has a progressive motion from the equator obliquely toward the north pole, that of one in the Indian Ocean proceeds obliquely from the equator toward the south pole. In the Pacific Ocean, a region of hurricanes, their revolving motion appears to be sanctioned by the evidence which has been obtained respecting them. Mr. Williams, the missionary, describes a hurricane at Raratonga, one of the Hervey Islands, during which the rain descended in deluging torrents, the lightning darted in fiery streams among the dense, black clouds, the thunder rolled deep and loud through the heavens, and the island trembled to its very centre as the war of the elements raged over it. Scarcely a banana or plaintain tree was left, either on the plains, or in the valleys, or upon the mountains; hundreds of thousands of which, on the preceding day, covered and adorned the land with their foliage and fruit, and immense chestnuts, which had withstood the storms of ages, were laid prostrate on the ground, while those that remained erect had scarcely a branch, and were all leafless. It was observed, that when the gale ended, the wind was in the west, whereas in the early part of its action the east end of the chapel had been blown in, which shows the wind then to have been in the east. The hurricanes of New South Wales have been observed to develop the same peculiarity. Mr. Meredith traced the path of one in the centre, and found at the termination a circle plainly shown, in which the trees lay all ways.

The cause of this rotatory motion of storms remains in obscurity, but it is probably due in part to the same law under which eddies or whirlpools are formed in water, by two currents being obliquely impelled against each other. The great hurricanes may thus be considered identical with the small local whirlwinds, which are common with us in the summer season, carrying upward and along the dust and loose grass in spiral columns, exhibiting a progressive and rotatory motion. In the region of the sandy deserts these atmospheric whirls transpire upon a great scale, raising up immense quantities of the loose particles in columns to a considerable height, which sweep along with prodigious violence, and have occasionally swallowed up whole caravans in their tremendous vortex.

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