After the lapse of about a quarter of an hour, a well-known voice was heard; and at an opening in the leafy covert, the person it proceeded from appeared, accompanied by a female. This was the parochial school-mistress; and a kind-hearted creature she appeared to be. She immediately sent in search of the cross sexton, and promised to take upon herself the responsibility of letting our party into the church; but the man was not to be found​—​he had left the town, and carried the keys with him. With native politeness, Miss Austin (as the worthy school-mistress was called) invited us to rest in her house until she could make further inquiries after the “keys;” and following our conductress, we shortly arrived at her residence, where (with a very warrantable kind of pride) she informed us, her mother was born, and married, and had reared eight children. Long before we gained the house, the hum of little voices was heard; and upon approaching the open door, about forty children, who formed the school, rose up, and commenced singing, “We make our obeisance to you, ma’am,” to the tune of “L—a—w, Law;” while a parrot, suspended from a beam, if she did not sing, at least screeched in chorus. After looking at these little negroes for some time, and inspecting the simple decorations of their school-room, we were ushered up stairs, and introduced to Miss Austin’s two sisters.

I cannot help speaking more fully of the polite behaviour of this trio. I came among them a perfect stranger, my name even being unknown, and in all probability never again to meet in this world; but every little attention possible was lavished upon me, the choicest produce of their garden tendered, and without the least parade. I have mixed with society in a far higher grade, where courtly manners prevail, and every art is tried to invest each action with a polished grace; but often, very often, has less native good-breeding, fewer sterling qualities of the mind been displayed than I found in the sisters of “Old Road.” They are not like the generality of persons in their line of life; hospitality indeed is, I believe, a virtue which most of them possess; but there was no aping of their betters, as is too frequently the case with this class of people; no flying away, when we came so suddenly upon them, to put on a brass chain, or a string of glass beads; or to take off an untidy wrapper, to enrobe themselves in a smart gown; their neat dresses and snow-white collars, like beauty, needed not “the foreign aid of ornament.”

Many a beautiful tree grew around their humble dwelling, and many a sweet-scented flower almost entered the open windows. When we had rested for a short time, we proceeded to the garden, to see a lime-tree. Knowing as I did the blighted state of these trees in Antigua, I expected to see a diminutive shrub; what, then, was my surprise, upon entering the little paddock, (for it had more the appearance of that than a garden,) to see a noble tree, covering the space of about fifty square feet, loaded with its fragrant fruit to the very ground. Well worthy was it to be looked at! well worthy to be praised by an abler pen than mine!​—​no indefinite article could be used to this shrub; it must be called the lime tree, and nothing else. While looking, again and again, at this beautiful tree​—​pressing its odorous leaves, and inhaling the scent of its golden fruit, the youngest sister remarked, “The archdeacon was here the other day, to catechise the children, and upon seeing this tree, said it looked as if the blessing of God was upon it.” And in truth it does appear so, for it flourishes on in its beauty in the midst of a burning sand, whilst most of its species are blighted and seared.

After leaving the lime-tree, we returned to the house and heard the children read a chapter in the Bible, and repeat the gospel, which they did very correctly, although some of them had not numbered their fifth year, thus proving the pains their tutoress takes with them; and then, putting up with our disappointment, left for home. As we were passing the church, Mr. Sexton appeared to have altered his mind in some degree, for (but with a very indifferent grace, it must be owned) he condescended to open the church door, and allow us entrance. The church, which is composed of hewn stone, is built in the form of a cross, and is noted for being the first place of public worship erected in Antigua. There is nothing very remarkable in the interior; the walls are plain white, and the floor paved with brick; but it is a quiet little church, where the good people of that neighbourhood may worship their God in peace. Over the altar is an old painting of Moses and Aaron in their robes; and under the communion table reposes the ashes of him who may be called the founder of the church; for he gave the land, and liberally contributed towards its erection. This was Col. Rowland Williams, who, as before-mentioned, was celebrated for his various good qualities, as well as humanity, in a period when the West Indies were generally enveloped in moral darkness. The epitaph upon his tomb-stone is inscribed in Latin; but as many of my readers no doubt prefer the English translation, I will insert it, which I am enabled to do through the kindness of the Rev. H. G. Hall.

Here safely lie in Mother Earth
The mortal remains of Rowland Williams.
We are but dust and ashes!
He was the first male infant of European extraction
Lawfully born in this island.
When he attained to manhood, he conducted himself
As a man,
Being equally in military, as in civil life, an honour
As well to himself, as to his connexions.
In the field, he was a bold commander;
In the senate, he was a wise councillor:
What avails strength without wisdom?
He was a loyal subject of his king, a protector of
His country,
A true father to his children, hospitable to his guests,
A friend to his friends. In a word,
He was all things to all men.
Throughout his whole life he displayed,
With health of body, soundness of mind.
Possessing the strictest honesty and much wealth.
He fell a tardy victim to death,
Having survived about eighty years.
He was buried the twentieth day of ——— 1713.
Since it is certain that we must die,
We should without delay take warning against it.

Near the altar is an elegant and chastely ornamented white marble tablet, erected to the memory of Mrs. Williams, daughter of Sir Patrick Ross, K. C. B., and wife of the Hon. Rowland E. Williams, the great-great-grandson of the above Col. Williams. This exemplary lady died at the early age of 32; respected by all classes, and deeply regretted by those who were honoured with her friendship. The following lines are engraved on the tablet:—

“Death, ere thou canst claim another,
Fair, and good, and wise as she,
Time shall hurl his dart at thee.”[[63]]

After copying these inscriptions, and casting one more glance round this rustic church, we returned to our carriage, and proceeded on our journey to “Crab Hill.” Before relating the rest of our adventures, I must remark, that the line of conduct pursued by the sexton of “Old Road” is not common in Antigua, such officials being generally very obliging.

Near to “Old Road” is a pond, which is formed by the hand of nature into a complete bason. It is surrounded with some fine and noble trees, which form a screen, and is embellished with a variety of odoriferous flowers, which bloom and die unknown and uncared for, illustrating those beautiful lines of Gray’s—

“Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.”