408 A Second Memoir with reference to [No. 100. 



families have taken refuge in the verandahs of the barracks. One fact 

 alone will illustrate the want of shelter now at the station : — two native 

 officers with their families are occupying the solitary cells at their own 

 request. Trees that have stood for eighty years are now blown down, 

 even to the tamarind tree, which has generally such a firm grip of the 

 earth. A magnificent specimen of one in front of the Collector's 

 Cutchary is fallen. The whole country is under water, and the 

 communication cut off from Cocanada and Ingeram, and we fear ac- 

 counts from that quarter will bring us lamentable details of the loss 

 of life and shipping. 



A hurricane similar to this occurred here in 1832, but not so vio- 

 lent, or of so long a continuance. 



Treasure to the amount of Co's. Rs. 1,50,000 was left unguarded 

 on the plain ! but it was only for a short time, as the sentries who had 

 been blown away, managed to crawl back and throw themselves on 

 the bags ! A fine trait of devotion truly ! 



{Another account) Nov. 18. 



' It may be interesting to you to hear some accounts of the late 

 most awful hurricane we experienced here — from about 8 o'clock of 

 the evening of the 16th, till 4 the following morning— when the raging 

 elements began to subside ; and when it became day-light, we w r ere 

 enabled to see the havoc that had been committed. And indeed 

 to behold the scene it was heart-rending : all the thatched houses in 

 the place unroofed — trees laid r with the ground, and even some that 

 must have stood all weathers for the last half a century. The Lines 

 were quite destroyed — not one house from right to left that has not 

 been blown down ; and as for the officers' houses, with the exception 

 of the Major's, not one dry corner could be found ; and the scenes that 

 were resorted to, to try and save themselves from the wind and rain, 

 each man the next morning recounting his adventures, certainly 

 made us smile in spite of the awfulness of the scene. Some got under 

 tables, others under beds, some sat on chairs moving from one spot to 

 another that could afford them shelter for the time, some were 

 obliged to quit their houses and take refuge in the mess house, being a 

 tiled building. You can hardly fancy the wreck that the place is in ; 

 but just recall to your mind the scene that the Mount Road presented 

 after the gale in 1836, and you may have some idea of how this place 

 now looks— not one whote tree standing in the place — if not blown 



_- 



