SAVINGS BANKS—KESWICK VIEWS—SPANISH TOWN
I have been interrupted in my writing this morning by listening to a very
entertaining conversation going on between two maid-servants, both pure
negresses, as to whether pink or blue chiffon would look best in their
Sunday hats. The latest fashion is to see smartly-dressed black ladies
with well-powdered necks and faces, wearing huge knots of coloured ribbon
on the left breast. Everything they can save goes to buy finery. Out of
four shillings a week, three are spent on dress, the fourth feeds them.
Much is done to induce them to put spare pence into savings banks, which
were established as early as 1837, depositors receiving 4½ per cent.; but
some years after, a panic ensued, when the secretary of a branch bank
committed forgery, and was sentenced to fourteen years’ penal servitude.
In 1870 a Government savings bank supplanted the former; the interest
depositors get now is only 2½ per cent. The married negress lawfully
regards her deposits as her own special property. That this is a
praiseworthy as well as useful institution is proved by the fact that
there were on the 31st of March 1900 32,860 depositors, including
charities, societies, clubs and public functionaries investing in their
official capacities. To assist people to deposit smaller sums, there
are now penny banks established in different parts of the island by
influential persons and clergymen. In 1897 there were forty-three of
these with 11,703 depositors. The currency is the same as in England, but
there are nickel pennies in circulation and paper notes for sovereigns. I
studiously avoid taking the latter, and insist on English gold: the dirty
things are detestable. Yesterday I went into a store at Mandeville to buy
some trifle, and I saw two black damsels trying the effect of transparent
muslin over their dusky arms; that with the biggest pattern was chosen,
it was “preetty fe trew,” they thought.
I am indebted to a Kingston clergyman for many amusing negro stories;
having lived here over thirty years he has quite a fine collection.
This is one. A negro stood chatting with the blacksmith in his shop.
After a while he broke out, “Hi, me smell fire burn!” With a frightful
exclamation he gave a jump, and found he had been standing on a piece of
iron just out of the fire, but it had taken some time for the heat to
penetrate the hoof!
A coloured man wrote thus to a clergyman:—
“DEAR MINISTER,—My mother is dead, and expects to be buried
this afternoon at four o’clock. Please come and administer over
her remains.”
[Illustration: GARDEN AT MYRTLE BANK HOTEL.
_To face p. 69._]
Another story tells of an irreligious young clerk who often teased one
of the head men about his piety and church-going. On Monday morning the
chaff began as usual.
“You went to church again yesterday, you old rascal.”
“Yes, buckra,” replied he, “me go a church, sah! but de trange ting is me
hear ’bout you, sah, during service.”
“Yes, you hear about me, eh!”
“Yes, sah, parson read de word, ‘De fool hat said in his heart dere is no
god.’”
One day I read in the newspapers that the Keswick delegates were to give
their last service at Kingston, before setting off on an evangelising
tour throughout the island.
A fellow-passenger on the _Port Antonio_ said he would like to hear
them. We arranged to dine at Myrtle Bank Hotel, and go afterwards to the
place of worship where the service was to take place. This hotel has an
entrance into it from Harbour Street; the gardens on the other side of
the building go down to the water’s edge, and are cool and inviting.
Generally a breeze, known as “the doctor,” from the sea is blowing, which
makes it deliciously refreshing.
We dined shortly after six, and were whirled in a “’bus” for sixpence
to Coke Chapel, a large edifice furnished with galleries. Crowds were
fighting to get in. Fortunately, the official black is still imbued with
the idea of the superiority of the white people, but how long that will
last if the social democrat is allowed to preach the equality of the
black with the white, is a question a wiser head than mine may solve. On
this occasion, my friend and I were shown with much respect to seats near
the pulpit. There were mostly coloured people in our immediate vicinity;
a little further away faces of ebony and mahogany made up the rest of the
large congregation. All looked serious, expectant, prosperous, too, if
one were justified in judging by the clothes they wore. The service began
by a hymn, followed by extempore prayer. The singing was congregational
and hearty. The blacks love singing hymns; one hears old familiar tunes
hummed constantly wherever one goes.
But the addresses were what they all came for. The delegates from Keswick
were both good speakers, and they fairly riveted the attention of their
hearers. However, a more unpractical Christianity, a more uninviting
picture of the religious life as laid down by these Evangelists, it has
never been my lot to listen to. Calvin and Knox flourished over three
centuries ago. Revivalists nowadays preach on gentler lines.
These childish, ignorant, irresponsible, but happy-hearted children
of the South were told that smoking, drinking, card-playing,
dancing-parties, love-making, novel-reading, society-going were
incompatible with the Christian life. If they wanted to enjoy such things
they were imperatively bidden to leave the church. In this instance,
that meant membership of nonconformist bodies. I learnt from the local
newspapers, which indiscriminately praised the work of the delegates,
that they upheld a high standard of spiritual life. It may be so. But
of what use is it to describe the unattainable and the impossible,
seeing that negro human nature is limited in its perceptions and in its
capabilities, and a white man would think twice before he made such
wholesale renunciations! The young women present were enjoined to keep
themselves to themselves; they were not to seek husbands, the Lord would
provide them! What about English church-going spinsters? I wondered. Many
of them had not _chosen_ the better part.
That they should not desire to go into society was impressed upon them,
since that often led to trouble. To exemplify this teaching the Old
Testament story of Dinah as given in Genesis was taken as the text. I
have since looked it up. It belongs to the unreadable stories of the
Pentateuch, but the gist of it, as presented to the mixed assembly,
was, that Dinah, said the preacher, probably like many in front of
him, “wanted more society than home afforded, so she called to see the
daughters of the land.” Just in the same way they might go to tea at
different houses in Kingston. Harm came of it, for she met somebody who
got her into trouble, and the end of it was her lover was killed. The
moral of the story was obvious. Safety was only to be found in staying at
home! Practical persons say the best teaching for these people is that of
example. If they see English people live well-ordered lives, they will in
time learn to copy them in the same way as they copy English dress. Many
of them are really stupid; they seem unable to retain what they hear.
A lady tells me that her servants can never repeat the text, nor give a
reasonable account of what they have heard at church. She asked a girl
who had that day been to Sunday School, it being Whit Sunday:
“Who is the Comforter you heard about?”
The lady who taught the class was the clergyman’s wife.
“Judas Iscariot, missus,” promptly and unabashed came the reply.
And this, she tells me, is a specimen of how they jumble up Bible
names and stories. No doubt there is a physiological solution to this
muddle-headedness, but it must be particularly trying for those who would
like to really improve them.
The next day I went with several people from the hotel to a garden-party
at King’s House. The afternoon was very hot; fortunately it became
slightly cooler by 4.30: the reception was from half-past four to six
o’clock. Their Excellencies received us at the entrance of the gardens.
Guests to the number of about one hundred and fifty had arrived; very few
government officials were present, and altogether, as a representative
gathering of the best people in the island, I admit we did not think
much of it. A lady resident told me the cause of so limited a number
taking the trouble to come was of course the unpopularity of the lady who
presides over the entertaining at King’s House. We chatted to those we
knew, strolled about the grounds. The house, which is unpretentious, is
situated in a hundred acres, containing some beautiful shrubs and rare
plants. Refreshments were served under the trees. It grew dark. We sought
our carriage, and returned to the hotel in time to dress for dinner. I
was determined to take one expedition into the country before leaving for
the islands, so on the Saturday I started from Constant Spring Hotel with
a friend by a tram, leaving shortly after six to catch the first train to
Spanish Town, from which place we intended to take a carriage to the Rio
Cobre. This town, the capital of the Spaniards, was called San Jago de la
Vega; it is not particularly interesting. The Governor’s residence was
here till quite recently. In the banqueting-hall and ball-room one may
picture the scenes which took place in the days of West Indian prosperity
at the King’s House in Spanish Town. We found the most interesting object
to be the cathedral, where lie interred many early Governors, their
wives, and some of the first settlers of the island. The architecture is
simple, though varied. The verger, who conducted us to the top of the
tower and pointed out the principal objects, was interesting in the fact
that he had been born there and evidently loved every stone of the place.
He directed our gaze to one of the oldest epitaphs. It ran—
“Here lyeth the body of DAME ELIZABETH, the Wife of Sir Thomas
Modyfort, Baronet, Governor of his Majesty’s Island of Jamaica,
who died the 12th of November 1668 being the 20th year of their
happy wedded life.”
A marble statue of Queen Victoria stands in the public Square, and bears
the inscription—
VICTORIA
OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND
QUEEN
EMPRESS OF INDIA
AND OF JAMAICA SUPREME LADY
1837-1901.
We did not go to see the United Fruit Company’s plantation of bananas,
oranges and pines, but I believe it well repays a visit, so does the
Cayman sugar estate, where some of the best rum is made.
We preferred to take a drive up the Rio Cobre of about nine miles. This
is really beautiful; the road winds along the course of the river, and
the luxuriant growth on either bank is simply wonderful to a person
fresh from home and new to tropical scenery. Huge banana-trees, enormous
clumps of bamboo, meet one at every turn in the road. We extracted a
good deal of information from our driver, although we could not always
understand him. Bare-legged women with skirts tucked up passed us with
the inevitable yam-laden basket on their heads, crowned with the hat
which was to cover the woolly hair of the lady when she set down her
load; one or two begged for _quatties_, an old Spanish word still used
and representing one penny halfpenny in our money. It is not often the
natives beg of you, although they will turn round and tell you how much
they love you! We had a delightful but very hot day, and did not get
back till quite late in the evening. There was one more event which I
have to record before closing these pages for a time on Jamaica. This was
the opening of a new wing added during the last year to the hotel.
Tourists, apparently, are beginning to make this island into a favourite
winter resort, the consequence being that increased accommodation was
needed. Elder, Dempster and Co., who own the hotel, were celebrating the
event by giving a garden-party. Their agent, Mr Haggart, had arrived.
The Governor was expected, and people were arriving in crowds, making
a gay picture of the lawns in front of the hotel, where a West Indian
band from one of the regiments was playing. It was nearly five o’clock
when the gubernatorial party arrived. Their Excellencies were conducted
over the new part of the building, afterwards to the new golf links,
upon which Sir Augustus played the first round. The most important part
of the programme consisted in his speech, in which he formally opened
the new wing. He spoke ably, and congratulated the Company on their
enterprising spirit, and hoped a new tide of success was about to float
the island into a more prosperous condition. Her ladyship stood close
by, as he spoke; so did the venerable, but tuft-hunting Delicia, so did
the industrious Russian journalist, taking notes the while, but I looked
in vain for persons of importance supporting their chief. I wondered
where the influential residents, the representatives of the mercantile
world, and government officials had betaken themselves to, and enquired
of a well-known lady in Kingston the reason of their absence. It was
the old story: they preferred to stay away. One felt sorry that things
were so. However, the afternoon was very enjoyable. The hotel provided
refreshments in the most generous and handsome way. Everyone present
could only hope that Jamaica in the near future may be as flourishing as
the most sanguine of her boomers could desire.