CHAPTER V
LAND SWALLOWS—TURKS ISLANDS—AN EARTHQUAKE SHOCK—CONSTANT SPRING HOTEL
We had delightful weather some days before our arrival at Kingston; the sunsets were magnificent, the beautiful colouring of the after-glow I shall never forget. I remember two nights before the end of our journey going to the forecastle of the ship to watch the fantastic shapes of the clouds on the southern horizon, intersected as the dark masses were with the most wonderful opalesque lines of pale green, blue, and yellow, the latter shading into deepest orange. In front of us was flying a little land swallow, heralding the approach of land. As Christopher Columbus neared the scene of his wonderful discoveries, he speaks of the little winged messenger of hope which, flying on ahead of his ship, warned his brave sailors of the approach of terra firma.
It was no less a world-explorer than the above who discovered Jamaica the 3rd of May, 1494. It was during his second voyage to the New World, and the Spaniards kept it till 1655, when it was surrendered to an English force. Oliver Cromwell, whose policy was that of to have and to hold, sent out a Commissioner to conduct the Civil Government, also 1000 troops. These were followed shortly after by 1500 settlers from Nevis, Bermuda, New England, and Barbadoes, and 1000 Irishmen, with as many young women. Ten years later the foundation of Jamaica’s wealth as a sugar-growing country was laid by the immigration into it of over 1000 inhabitants of Surinam, which had been given to the Dutch in exchange for New York, then known as New Amsterdam; these people industriously engaged in planting sugar in the western parts of the island where the country is flat. For many years nothing more momentous than occasional depredations of a piratical nature, or attacks from French cruisers, occurred to disturb the progress of this industry.
Later the history of the island consists of constant quarrelling, the Civil Government being repeatedly repealed, then restored. Finally, in 1884, a new constitution was given to Jamaica. The present Government consists of the Governor, who is President of the Legislative Assembly, the Senior Military Officer, the Colonial Secretary, the Attorney-General, and the Director of Public Works. In addition to these are five members appointed by the Crown, and nine elected by tax-payers of upwards of twenty shillings. There are fourteen electoral districts. Jamaica—which retains the old Indian name Xaymaca, “a land abounding in springs”—is divided into three political divisions called counties. They are known as Middlesex, Surrey, and Cornwall respectively. These are sub-divided into fourteen parishes, the affairs of each being managed by a Parochial Board.
The Jamaican legislation has the power to pass laws applying to the Turks and Caicos Islands; the Supreme Court of Jurisdiction extending to these islands in matrimonial and divorce cases.
It was at Turks Islands that we first saw land on approaching the West Indies. They are a group lying to the south-east of the Bahamas, and were so called from a peculiar kind of cactus which grows there, somewhat resembling a Turkish fez. The largest of them is 7 miles long, and 1½ miles broad. Salt is exported from them, about 1,500,000 bushels bring annually shipped to the United States. It was midnight when we stopped and made our presence known to the Postal and Telegraph Office on shore by signalling. I looked out of my port-hole and saw a long stretch of coast, slightly hilly, but it was too indistinct to see much. The distance we were from the shore I presumed to be not more than a mile. Presently I saw a small sailing boat come close to the big steamer, and in the dim light receive an emaciated-looking mail-bag, which we had surveyed previously, when brought up to be in readiness to hand over to the postal authorities. A precocious small boy, who was permitted to feel the sealed-up bag, declared there was only one letter inside.
A stay of twenty minutes sufficed to exchange mails and to receive the latest British telegrams. Everybody was then keen to know how the Education Bill was progressing at home.
The whole of the succeeding day we coasted along the northern shores of Hayti. Universal wonder was expressed that so exquisite a spot was permitted by Providence to become that which Ruskin said of Naples, “a paradise inhabited by devils.” As a nation we are suffering for the sins committed by our forefathers in bringing the “devils” away from their primeval forests. Yesterday an American lady said to me anent the negro, “He ought never to have been brought to these islands,” and went on to declare that we should not only pray to be delivered from evil, but quite as much from the consequences of other people’s evil, which generally fall upon the innocent more than the guilty, so I think we may profitably take thought for the morrow when we contemplate any particular course of action.
Many philanthropically-disposed persons consider that the blacks were better off under kind and considerate masters, before the days of emancipation, than in these days when each nigger does exactly as he pleases. The present situation, to my mind, seems precisely the same as that of a number of unruly schoolboys suddenly let loose from proper control and discipline.
It was the morning of Saturday, 22nd November, when we came in sight of Jamaica—but before the early hour at which everyone appeared dressed, so as not to lose the first sight of the beautiful mountainous outline—an event of some importance occurred. Bells were ringing long before daylight, and a great commotion was going on below amongst the main-deck cabins; I put on my dressing-gown, and, finding a stewardess with her arms full of soaked bedclothes, asked what on earth was the matter. Three of the cabins on the port side had been completely swamped, she told me. Since everybody had packed to be in readiness to land, it was more than awkward to have the clothes they were going to put on that morning simply saturated. One lady, whose berth lay immediately under the open port, said she had been rudely awakened by a volume of water streaming over her. Before she had recovered her breath another equally huge sea poured into the cabin; she had never been more alarmed in her life. The sea was so perfectly smooth, I could not understand it. The time was between the hours of three and four, and, so far as we knew, we were off Port Morant. However, an hour or so after, our wonder was set at rest, for the pilot who came on board to take us up Kingston Harbour advertised the fact that an earthquake shock had been felt that morning at Port Royal, and that there had not been so severe a one for thirty years. This, thought I, was a nice introduction to the volcanic sphere of action.
There is a narrow strip of land about 7 miles in length enclosing the harbour of Kingston to the southward, and Port Royal is situated at the western extremity of it. The town was, before the great earthquake of 1692, says Leslie in his Jamaican “History,” the finest town in the West Indies, and at that time the richest spot in the universe. It figured in the early colonial history of this island as the emporium of the ill-gotten riches of those raiders of the Spanish Main, the buccaneers, who squandered their gains in riotous living and gambling. The wealth poured into Port Royal by these pirates was enormous. They intercepted all vessels traversing those seas. Every Spanish ship was a rich prize. If outward bound to the Indies they were laden with the choicest products and manufactures of the home country, the glass of St Ildefonso, silks and serges from Valencia, porcelain of Alcora, cordage from Carthagena, Castille soap, Toledo cutlery, the fine wool of Spain’s merino sheep, with the wine and oil and almonds and raisins produced by Spain in common with Italy and the Greek islands. If they were returning home to Europe the Spanish galleons were loaded with ingots of gold and silver. The disposal of these prizes, which were numerous, made a golden harvest for the merchant; while the riot and revelry of the sailors, recklessly spending their share of the plunder, enriched the retailers; and the traffic of this far-famed mart laid the foundation of dowries for duchesses and endowments for earldoms. The Rector of Port Royal, at the time of the great earthquake, thus describes the awful occurrence: “Whole streets with their inhabitants were swallowed up by the opening of the earth, which, when shut upon them, squeezed the people to death, and in that manner several were left with their heads above ground, and others covered with dust and earth by the people who remained in the place. It was a sad sight to see the harbour covered with dead bodies of people of all conditions floating up and down without burial, for the burying-place was destroyed by the earthquake, which dashed to pieces tombs, and the sea washed the carcases of those who had been buried out of their graves.” The ruins of the old city are still to be seen in clear weather under the surface of the water, and divers occasionally find relics in their explorations. Attempts to rebuild the place were frustrated first by a great fire in 1703, and subsequently by a great storm in 1722, which swept many of the buildings into the sea, destroying much shipping and many lives. On that day fifty vessels were in the harbour: out of that number four men-of-war and two merchantmen alone succeeded in getting away.
At the present day Port Royal holds an important position as a naval station. It contains the official residence of the Commodore and Staff of H.M. ships serving on the North American and West Indian station; the dockyard is fully equipped with machinery and steam-engines to repair the warships and refit them after injuries sustained. There is also a fine naval hospital, which can be made to accommodate two hundred patients if required. The defences of Port Royal have latterly been much improved, new batteries having been added to the fortifications.
It was after the fire of 1703 that Kingston, the present capital of Jamaica, began to grow in importance, a law being passed declaring that henceforth Kingston was to be the chief seat of trade and head port of entry; but the place was unpopular, and Spanish Town, built originally by the Spaniards and the seat of government, remained practically the chief town in the island for many years.
There could be nothing more beautiful than the entry into Kingston Harbour as I saw it. The Blue Mountains in the background were free from the cloudy embrace which so often veils the peaks, a lower range of hills clad with verdant green up to their summits lay between us and them. On our right was the promontory of Port Royal, with its red tiled roofs, waving palms, green foliage and yellow sands. In front, like a watch-dog, lay stretched upon the shining waters the Urgent, the guardship of the naval station. To our left the coast presented a semi-circular sweep, and over the green of the mangrove swamps, on which trees oysters grow, one saw in the distance the churches and warehouses of Kingston. Shortly after passing the entrance of the harbour, which is but a mile in width, a gun was fired to announce the arrival of the Direct Mail from England. Everyone was attentively admiring the beautifully situated harbour as we slowly steamed up to the company’s wharf. J. T. Froude says: “The associations of the place no doubt added to the impression. Before the first hut was run up in Kingston, Port Royal was the rendezvous of all English ships which for spoil or commerce frequented the West Indian seas. Here the buccaneers sold their plunder and squandered their gains. Here in the later century of legitimate wars whole fleets were gathered to take in stores, or refit when shattered by engagements. Here Nelson had been, and Collingwood and Jervis, and all our naval heroes. Here prizes were brought in for adjudication, and pirates to be tried and hanged. In this spot more than in any other beyond Great Britain herself, the energy of the Empire was once throbbing.”
Such was the past, and if the everlasting hills had looked down upon scenes of glorious days in the annals of our monarchy, as well as upon the inglorious ones of privateering, of cruelty, of rapine and of avarice, who could tell what were the possibilities of the future? Whilst we had journeyed out from England the three years of Columbian internecine warfare had drawn to a conclusion. Now there is a chance—indeed certainty, since the Americans have taken it in hand—that the Panama Canal may become a reality in years to come, instead of the failure “of the greatest undertaking of our age.” When the Atlantic is united with the Pacific who can tell what future greatness lies before Kingston, being, as she is, the best harbour in the West Indies, and from her geographical situation the natural intermediate port for coaling. When this great watery highway is established, what new markets will be opened to West Indian industries!
Millions’ worth of rusty machinery, never yet unpacked, lies buried in the mud of Darien, sent out when money was more plentiful than brains, and when swindling ranked with the fine arts. Thousands of lives have been lost in the swamps and jungles of the tropics over the so-far futile project of M. de Lesseps. No worse spot in the world could be found where nature resists the invasion of science and the enterprise of the European. In the hot tropical jungle, deadly snakes, alligators, mosquitoes and centipedes abound.
The unfortunate blacks, who rushed to Darien as to an expectant gold-field, attracted thither by the dollars their fellows were earning, were stricken down with yellow fever, dysentery, and typhus in countless numbers.
For all this, it has rightly been believed by many that some day, sooner or later, the commercial progress of the world will demand the execution of this apparently impossible scheme. Now we confidently look to America to see it successfully completed.
To return to the world of actualities, I gazed interestedly down from the decks of the Port Antonio to the quay where we were to land. The mahogany-coloured occupants of numerous small boats shouted up to us, gesticulating and laughing as they showed their beautiful white teeth. Meanwhile, the great ship slowly approached her moorings. Then a detachment of a West Indian regiment, marching to the sound of a band, approached, and took up a position exactly in front of us.
Directly the gangway was accessible a troop of officials thronged up on deck to pay their respects to the Governor. The band struck up a popular air, the soldiers were inspected, and Sir Augustus Hemming with his friends passed out of sight. People came streaming on board to greet their home-returning relatives and friends, whilst every religious community seemed to be represented in the motley groups of black-coated men who had come to receive the delegates from Keswick.
“They are going to have a high old time,” irreverently remarked a stray black sheep amongst my fellow-passengers, speaking collectively of the black-garbed ecclesiastics. I found some friends waiting for me, who very kindly steered me and my belongings through the custom-house, which is quite close to the landing-stage, and proved to be no ordeal whatever, since I had no merchandise to account for. My trunks were given into the care of a porter from Constant Spring Hotel, and I had no farther trouble with them. My friends got a “bus,” as the buggies are called in Kingston, and we drove a very short distance, when I entered the electric tram which every twenty minutes runs between the town and the hotel, six miles away.
For the benefit of intending visitors to Jamaica I may here mention that Messrs Elder, Dempster & Co., who own the Direct Mail Service by which I travelled, and which some two years ago was called into existence by Mr Chamberlain in his efforts to help the West Indies, are also the proprietors of the two best hotels Jamaica possesses: Myrtle Bank in the town of Kingston, and Constant Spring, 6 miles off in the country.
My intention was to go first of all to the latter, especially as I heard how hot Kingston is in the daytime. I learnt, too, that a voucher from Constant Spring Hotel enabled you to take what meal you chose at their other hotel in town and vice versa. I had several purchases to make, so that if I were to be busy shopping in the heat of the day, so much the more advantageous would it be to ensure cool nights.
I cannot say that I admire Kingston; in fact I consider all West Indian towns best at a distance. The electric trams are a great boon, and an eminently satisfactory mode of transit. The American lady of smoking-room fame joined me en route for the hotel. She could not refrain, when she saw the sugar-cane as we passed the market, from buying some. She said it reminded her of her home in California, and, much to the amusement of the blacks opposite, she brought out a knife and insisted on teaching me how to eat cane. This was my first acquaintance with Jamaican blacks; but I still turn round to admire the country women striding along with Heaven only knows what in those heaped-up baskets on their heads, to which they seem to give not a thought. For the most part, they wear clean print gowns, short, fastened up below the waist behind, so as not to impede their gait—I have since read that no women in the world walk better or can poise such weights on their heads as they can. Very charming country houses with nice gardens line the road, when once one is out of the town right away to Constant Spring. We paid fourpence for our ride, and at the end of it, walked up a path sheltered with trellised arches, and covered with alamander, bougainvillia, scarlet hibiscus, with nicely laid-out gardens on each side of us, arriving in due course at the central entrance of the hotel. Having secured rooms adjoining, with verandahs looking out on to the garden, and beyond that the golf links, which we learnt, together with a new wing, were to be opened in a few days, we repaired to the spacious dining-room, which takes the whole breadth of the building, as indeed do all the sitting-rooms. Thus, with balconies on either side, one can always find a cool spot. My friend and I chose a table and ordered lunch. The fair Delicia swept ponderously past us.
“Oh! won’t you come and lunch with us?” asked my companion in the kindest manner.
“Thank you,” returned that important spinster in acrid accents; “I have my own table prepared for me,” and she followed the manager to another part of the room, where henceforth she was always to be seen alone in her grandeur.
“My goodness!” exclaimed the charming American, when her pomposity had betaken herself to a safe distance, “if I’d guessed she was that crabby I’d have saved my breath. She has put on empty-headed side since she struck this hotel!”
Several of our fellow-passengers found their way up to Constant Spring during the course of the afternoon. The little journalist made tracks for the fair Delicia.
We found some nice people staying at the hotel, amongst them the inevitable British matron, who was shocked at so many things that I wondered how it was she could stay in a land where so much human anatomy is in evidence, as it certainly is in this island.
For people who want a warm climate to winter in, pleasant society, and a comfortable hotel in which to stay, I consider Constant Spring Hotel a very charming resort. The building is large, and extends over a good deal of ground. You enter a large central hall, where small tables used for afternoon tea are scattered about, with most comfortable chairs and lounges. The staircases on either side lead to a gallery above, from which you look down upon the scene below. From this hall, on your right, you pass through the large drawing-room to the dining-room; on your left, you enter into the reading-room, which is nicely fitted up with half-a-dozen writing tables, whilst a table in the centre is covered with magazines and papers; this room is carpeted throughout, so that persons walking through do not disturb you when reading or writing. Passing through this room you come to the ping-pong and billiard-rooms. Another great advantage is that there is a first-rate swimming bath belonging to the hotel, and which is open to both ladies and gentlemen at certain hours. The expenses of a winter residence in this hotel would not be greater than at any similar one in the south of France, about fifteen shillings a day; but for a permanent stay, or visit of some weeks, advantageous terms could be made. I should advise people writing from England and engaging rooms to be careful to ask for them on the north side, which is the cool side, looking out towards the Blue Mountains. Visitors to Jamaica, coming out with introductions to a few residents, would soon find themselves in very pleasant society at Kingston, and during the winter months there are a good many garden-parties, dinners, and dances, both at the hotels and in the neighbourhood.
Besides the naval station at Port Royal there is a garrison at Newcastle which is situated some 4000 feet above sea-level; it appears that formerly our soldiers were quartered in mangrove swamps: the Government has of late years gone to the opposite extremes. Now their habitation is amongst the clouds. There is no doubt about the healthy situation of this eyrie in the mountains; but one pities the poor fellows condemned to an exile of two or three years in this isolated spot. The temperature in this elevated region never rises beyond 70° and never drops below 60°. The officers, although they can descend occasionally from the misty heights, must be bored beyond description. There is absolutely nothing to hunt, nothing to shoot; the mongoose has eaten up every partridge, as it has exterminated snakes, and driven the remaining rats into dwelling-houses.