Kingston, Jamaica.
We arrived at Kingston after a passage of twenty-four hours. On entering the harbour our little vessel, as it passed near the admiral's ship, appeared like an ant at the foot of a mountain. Nothing is more delightful than the bustle and continual movement that strikes the eye on entering this port. Innumerable boats are continually plying round the vessels, offering for sale all the fruits of the season. I like the town. There is an air of neatness in the houses which I have no where seen since I left my own country; but the streets are detestable; none of them are paved, and at every step you sink ankle deep in sand.
I have found numbers of my French friends here, and among others madame M——, who was more than gallant at the Cape, and who at St. Jago appeared not insensible to the pleasure of being loved. She left her sister in a fit of jealousy and went to Jamaica, hoping to captivate some Englishman, or at least to rival him in his attachment to roast beef and Madeira. But it seems she has been disappointed, no lover having yet offered his homage to her robust attractions. She accuses them of wanting taste, and hates the place and all who inhabit it.
I have also met here my little friend Coralie, whose adventures since I parted with her at the Cape, have been distressing and romantic.
Her mother and herself had been persuaded to remain at the Cape, after the evacuation, by a brother on whom they entirely depended, and who, seduced by the hope of making a fortune, staid and shared the melancholy fate of the white inhabitants of that place. Coralie and her sister were concealed by an American merchant in his store, among sacks of coffee and boxes of sugar. Their mother had been led, with the rest of the women, to the field of slaughter.
The benevolent man who concealed these unfortunate girls at the risk of his life, after some weeks had elapsed, and the vigilance of the negroes a little relaxed, entreated the captain of an English frigate to receive them on board his vessel, to which he readily agreed. Disguised in sailors' clothes, and carrying baskets of provisions on their heads, they followed the captain to the sea side. As they approached the guard placed on the wharf to examine all that embarked, they trembled, and involuntarily drew back. But their brave protector told them that it was too late to recede and that he would defend them with his life. As the English were on the best terms with the negroes, the supposed boys were suffered to pass. On entering the ship the captain congratulated them on their escape, and Coralie, overpowered by a variety of sensations, fainted in the arms of her generous protector.
A few days after, they sailed for Jamaica. On entering Port Royal, the frigate was driven against a small vessel, and so damaged it, that it appeared to be sinking. The boat was instantly hoisted out, and the captain of the frigate went himself to the assistance of the sufferers. The passengers and crew jumped into the boat, and were making off, when the screams of a female were heard from below, and it was recollected that there was a sick lady in the cabin. The English captain descended, brought her up in his arms, and put her in the boat. Then, saying that the vessel was not so much injured as they imagined, ordered some of his people to assist him in saving many things that lay at hand. Four sailors jumped on board, and followed their commander to the cabin, where they had scarcely descended, when the vessel suddenly filled and sunk. They were irrecoverably lost.
Coralie, standing on the deck of the frigate, beheld this catastrophe, saw perish the man to whom she owed her life, and whose subsequent kindness had won her heart.