The most remarkable edifice of Port-au-Prince was the palace, a long, low, wooden building of one storey, supported on brick walls: it contained several fine rooms, and two halls which might have been rendered admirable for receptions; but everything around it was shabby—the stables, the guard-houses, the untended garden, the courtyard overrun with grass and weeds, and the surrounding walls partially in ruins. This spacious presidential residence was burnt down during the revolutionary attack on Port-au-Prince in December 1869, and no attempt has been made to rebuild it.
The church is a large wooden building, an overgrown shed, disfigured by numerous wretched paintings which cover its walls; and, as an unworthy concession to local prejudice, our Saviour is occasionally represented by an ill-drawn negro.
The senate-house was the building with the most architectural pretensions, but its outer walls only remained when I last saw it, fire having destroyed the roof and the interior wood-work. There is no other edifice worthy of remark; and the private houses, with perhaps a score of exceptions, are of the commonest order.
The market-places are large and well situated, but ill-tended and dirty, and in the wet season muddy in the extreme. They are fairly supplied with provisions. I may notice that in those of Port-au-Prince very superior meat is often met with, and good supplies of vegetables, including excellent European kinds, brought from the mountain gardens near Fort Jaques.
The supply of water is very defective. During the reign of the Emperor Soulouque a luminous idea occurred to some one, that instead of repairing the old French aqueduct, iron pipes should be laid down. The Emperor had the sagacity to see the advantage of the plan, and gave orders for the work to be done. As an exception to the general rule, the idea was to a certain extent well carried out, and remains the only durable monument of a most inglorious reign. Had the iron pipes been entirely substituted for the old French work, the inhabitants would have enjoyed the benefit of pure water; but when I left in 1877, the people in the suburbs were still breaking open the old stone-work to obtain a source of supply near their dwellings; and pigs, children, and washerwomen congregated round these spots and defiled the stream.
The amount of water introduced into the town is still most inadequate; and though numerous springs, and one delightful stream, La Rivière Froide, are within easy distance of the port, no effort has been made to increase the supply. La Rivière Froide—name redolent of pleasant reminiscences in a tropical climate—could easily fill a canal, which would not only afford an inexhaustible supply for the wants of the town and shipping, but, by creating an outward current, would carry off the floating matter which pollutes the port. Since my departure a Mr. Stephens commenced some works to afford the town a constant supply of water, but these, I understand, have as yet only been partially carried out. If ever finished, they will afford to the inhabitants a great boon.
The cemetery is situated outside the town. I never entered it except when compelled to attend a funeral, and hastened to leave it as soon as possible, on account of an unpleasant odour which pervades it. It is not kept in good order, though many families carefully attend to the graves of their relatives, and there are several striking tombs. People of all religions are buried here; but it is on record that a brawling Irish priest once attempted to disinter a Protestant child. His brawling subsequently led to his banishment.
I noticed on my first arrival in Port-au-Prince two marble coffins, very handsome, lying neglected on the ground outside the palace. I was told they had been brought from abroad in order that the remains of Pétion and Boyer, two of their best Presidents, should repose in them; but for many years I saw them lying empty on the same spot, and I never heard what became of them.
The curse of Port-au-Prince is fire. Every few years immense conflagrations consume whole quarters of the town. Nothing can stop the flames but one of the few brick-houses, against which the quick-burning fire is powerless. During my residence in Port-au-Prince five awful fires devastated the town. On each occasion from two to five hundred houses were destroyed. And yet the inhabitants go on building wretched wooden match-boxes, and even elaborate houses of the most inflammable materials. Companies should be careful how they insure property in Port-au-Prince, as there are some very well-authenticated stories of frauds practised on them both by Europeans and natives.
Port-au-Prince, on my first arrival in 1863, was governed by a municipality, over which presided a very honest man, a Monsieur Rivière, one of those Protestants to whom I have referred in my chapter on religion. As a new arrival, I thought the town sufficiently neglected, but I had reason to change my opinion. It was a pattern of cleanliness to what it subsequently became. The municipality, when one exists, has for its principal duties the performance or neglect of the registration of all acts relating to the “état civil,” and to divide among its members and friends, for work never carried out, whatever funds they can collect from the city.