A Description of the "Falling Stars" of 1833
As an interesting item we take the following from Harper's Weekly for July 16. The whole is a silly little love story of the Negroes during the year 1833, the climax of which was reached at the falling of the stars, November 13. The young colored man's name was Lish; the girl that he was courting was Dicey; and Aunt Silvey, an aged colored woman, tells the story, which Mrs. Virginia Frayer Boyle has so beautifully limned. The description of the meteoric shower, however, is true to life, and just what was seen in many places at that time. We give it as follows: 'Then, for the first time, said Aunt Silvey, Lish turned and looked into the face of the heavens instead of into Dicey's face, and, lo and behold! the air, the skies, the roads, the fields, were full of falling fire as thick as snowflakes in the winter and as bright as fireflies in the boggy woods in summer, and there was no way to turn where the falling fire was not. 'The world's on fire!' cried the terror-stricken Lish. 'But I gotter save you, Dicey! Come!' And hand in hand, shrinking and dodging like frightened rabbits, they ran back into the quarters. 'Bedlam met them there. From every cabin a dusky stream had poured regardless of age, sex, or condition, roused from slumber and warm beds, wrapped in 'kivers' as varied as Joseph's coat, or clothed only in that with which nature had provided them. 'Every creature that had lungs had opened them lustily, and everything with a voice added fullness to the sound. Some wept, some shouted, some cried, some prayed, and some confessed to sins that their little world had never known were committed. 'Now in the deep basses and contraltos were chanted the fright and misery of their souls, while above these at intervals the high soprano and tenor voices soared in their oratorio of terror: 'My Gord! The world's on fire! The world's on fire!'' 'Some threw themselves with their faces on the ground that they might not see the terror of the heavens; while others, dazed by the awful splendor, could not draw their eyes from the blinding spectacle. But the parson and the good hoodoos, said Aunt Silvey, prayed without ceasing, with their faces toward the east. 'One, two hours passed, and the whole world seemed full, with wailing and with fire. 'Le's go up ter de big house, whar we be safe!' sobbed Dicey, who all this time had kept her face hidden on Lish's trembling shoulder. 'Dey hain't no safer'n we is,' said Unc' Pliny, the parson. 'De day er jedgment done fotch us all low, de white an' de black, de quality, de po' buckra, an' de nigger! Have mercy on our souls!' 'In the third hour, tho it was the middle of the night, the sheep, terror-stricken, began to bleat, the horses to neigh, the mules to run, the cows to low, and every fowl for miles and miles to add its quota to the general confusion. 'Old Unc' Pliny's flesh had reached the limit of its endurance, his knees were knocking together, and his hands were trembling like the others'; but his voice kept up bravely, for, tho Unc' Pliny's flesh was weak, his spirit was willing to strive. 'Behold, my people,' he cried, 'de milenium is come! De ox in de stall done lif' up his voice an' kneel down ter pray! De ass by de manger an' all the brutes what goes on four feet is bowed de knee an' cried out, "De 'struction er de worl' is done come. Have mercy on us po' sinnin' creeters!"' 'And again the wail of the multitude arose in answer and died away in a moan. 'The third hour had nearly passed, in an unceasing, spectacular display, when the fiery sleet in the heavens gradually abated. But the terror-stricken people still lay upon the ground and clung shivering with their faces in the damp earth. Now the grandeur of the illumination was over. Only a fitful meteor sped across the sky. Then a faint streak flushed gently in the east and another day was born.'