the American continent was
discovered, and were doomed, like all other tribes of their race, to
wilt and die beneath the sun of civilization.

The Caribs, although described by historians as fierce and unpitying
cannibals of the lowest grade of human organization, undoubtedly
possessed moral and intellectual faculties by no means inferior to the
great body of American Indians; but, like the tribe of savages which
inhabited the island of Hispaniola, and other tribes on the continent,
they observed the custom of flattening their heads, which gave to their
features an unnatural and sinister expression, by no means calculated to
gain the good will and confidence of strangers. The head was squeezed,
soon after birth, between two boards, applied before and behind, which
made the front and back part of the head resemble two sides of a square.
This custom is still retained among the Caribs of St. Vincent.

The flattening of the head among the natives of Hispaniola was performed
in a different manner, and produced a different effect. The forehead
only was depressed, almost annihilating the facial angle, and swelling
the back part of the head out of all proportion. The early Spanish
settlers complained of this savage custom, as subjecting them to
much inconvenience. In the course of their HUMANE experiments, they
ascertained that, owing to the thickening of the back part of the
cranium caused by this process, the broadsword of the strongest cavalier
could not cleave the skull at a single blow, but would often snap off in
the middle without serious damage to the owner of the cranium!

When I passed along the shores of the island of St. Vincent, in 1810, I
was particularly struck with the wild and uncultivated appearance of the
northern section, a huge mountain, or combination of mountains, rudely
precipitous, covered with luxuriant vegetation even to the summit, but
containing deep chasms or gorges, down which sparkling streams were
rushing, forming numerous waterfalls, and all constituting a wild,
picturesque, and attractive landscape.

When I passed St. Vincent in the Lapwing, in October, 1812, a mighty
change had taken place. Every trace of vegetation had vanished from
this part of the island; not a tree or a shrub remained. The rivers
were dried up, and even the deep and dark chasms and gorges no longer
existed. Cinders and ashes covered the mountain sides, and beds of
lava were pouring down from the summit, and hissing as