Jamaica as it is, 1903

by B. Pullen-Burry

We took the electric tram, first of all, from the hotel to Papine, some 6 miles in an eastward direction. Here, by the bye, there is a black Lourdes. I did not see the dirty pool where a crazed enthusiast, a black man, named Bedward, holds forth as to the miraculous nature of the water, and where faith-healing is carried on à merveille. Negroes having cancers, tumours, and other ailments go there and wash. The accompanying rites I do not know, for the proceedings take place at night, and therefore it is not easy to be present. But undoubtedly cures have taken place, so greatly does fear, or faith, operate upon the nervous centres of blacks as well as whites. The natives take bottles containing this miraculous water which everybody, no matter what the disease, bathes in, and when a member of their family is sick or ill, he or she is dosed with it. From Papine carriages were in readiness to convey travellers to Gordon Town, some 3 miles of lovely winding road away amongst the hills.

Here we took horses; our luggage was strapped on to a mule’s back, and, with a boy in attendance, we commenced our three hours’ ride. The way led over bridges through a defile, then leaving the main road we ascended a good bridal path which zigzagged up the face of a very steep mountain affording, as we got up some 3000 feet, magnificent views of the country and harbour of Kingston beneath us. At length we gained the summit of the pass, and then our way led round circuitous mountains with a deep valley between us and another range. All the sturdy mountaineers we passed on the narrow path seemed pleased to see us. Wattled huts, and occasionally a Chinaman’s drink shop, were passed; each new view seemed to be more beautiful than the last. At length we gradually descended the hill, crossed a bridge, and immediately ascended the other side of the narrow ravine. Very soon after, entering a gate, we found ourselves in Mr Sidgwick’s coffee plantation, which occupied the slope of a very steep hill. Another gate led into the garden of our host, which could boast of a tennis-lawn and terraces. At the back were enormous barbecues and buildings connected with the curing of coffee.

The house itself is two hundred years old, and is situated in a basin amongst the hills. It is built in the mode so prevalent in the older houses of Jamaica, namely, the large central dining-room with rooms and kitchen opening into it, and on the storey above, the drawing-room, with bedrooms leading into it. Going through the house one crossed the roadway, where a billiard-room and a wing containing ten bedrooms were in course of erection, for, in the summer months, there is an exodus to the hills from Kingston, by those who can afford the change. We had fires every night, and a most genial and happy house-party we were, when the grumblesome old dame had departed, playing whist and bridge, and enjoying the treat of a really good piano. The food in these remote regions is excellent, notwithstanding that most of it has to be carried up from Kingston.

I cannot describe the charm of the walks and rides to be taken in this mountainous region. The ascent to Catherine’s Peak is by no means arduous, but the path up to the summit is to be found with some difficulty owing to the luxuriant growth of the wild ginger, ferns and other plants. The ever-changing lights on the verdure-clad sides of the Blue Mountains is a wonderful sight for an artistic eye, whilst torrents and streams, hidden by the great masses of trees, ferns, and plants of all description, fall into the narrow valleys. It is only the pedestrian who can fully grasp the great wealth of greenery everywhere. The tree ferns grow to great height amongst the mountains where the sunlight does not penetrate. Wild heliotrope, orchids, wild oleander, begonias, one can pick as one wanders along.

CHAPTER XX

THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND IN JAMAICA—ITS DISESTABLISHMENT, ITS INCREASED ACTIVITY AND DEVELOPMENT

In briefly reviewing the past history, and in contemplating the present state of the Church of England in this colony, there are no words which present themselves to my mind with greater significance than do those of Ruskin. He says: “There are two oriflammes: which shall we plant on the farthest islands?—the one that floats in heavenly fire, or that which hangs heavy with foul tissue of terrestrial gold? We have been taught a religion of pure mercy, which we must now either finally betray, or learn to defend by fulfilling. And we are rich in an inheritance of honour bequeathed to us through a thousand years of noble history.” That we have not betrayed that trust in this colony there is ample evidence, and that the bright inheritance of honour remains untarnished, the very existence of an active, flourishing, and self-supporting Church in Jamaica testifies, in spite of the dark days and difficult times it has lived through since its disestablishment in 1870.

To understand the somewhat complicated history of Anglicanism in these parts, it will be profitable to revert to the time when Cromwell, in fitting out the expedition commanded by Penn and Venables to crush the Spanish power in the West Indies in 1655, despatched seven ministers of religion at the same time. That stern Puritan and sound statesman could not brook the overbearing pride of Spain, nor was he inclined to submit to the Spanish pretensions with the tameness with which the vacillating Stuart kings had viewed the policy of aggrandizement pursued by that State. Its maritime power menaced his commerce on the high seas; doubtlessly its very existence troubled his Puritan and mystical conscience.