It was my intention on leaving Southampton, to spend a month at
Madeira, and proceed to the West Indies by the next monthly steamer,
but circumstances prevented it. We had a rough and boisterous passage
through the Bay of Biscay, and only reached Madeira, a distance of
one thousand two hundred and eighty miles, in ten days. We had about
one hundred and twenty passengers, a fair proportion of whom had paid
full tribute to Neptune, and for the first eight days there was little
contention for seats at table; but after getting in the trade-winds and
balmy air from the African coast, the summer dresses began to appear,
the awning was struck, and we found ourselves uncomfortably elbowed at
our meals.
We had about twenty passengers to land on the island, but to our
surprise, on entering the harbor, we found the Portuguese authorities
had got frightened by the cholera reports from England, and put all
passengers in the Lazaretto for ten days. Having had considerable
experience in quarantines in the east, and learning there were only
accommodations for one half the number of passengers to be landed, and
that one of our number was dying with the consumption, and believing
that in the event of his sudden decease these stupid people would
consider it a cholera case, and I might be imprisoned for a month, I
promptly concluded to continue by the steamer to Barbadoes, the first
windward West India Island. We remained in the harbor of Madeira
twenty-four hours, exercising the greatest precaution on the part of
the officers in the boats to prevent contact in putting supplies on
board, and some most amusing scenes took place among the boatmen, who
looked upon us all as infected with the disease. One poor fellow had
brought out some canary birds in cages for sale, which were handed
carefully to a sailor on the foot-ladder, and the purchaser threw
the sum demanded in the boat. With the rolling of his boat the sailor
caught his hand to frighten him, the passengers gave a shout, and
the poor fellow dropped as if seized by an apoplectic fit; his face
was of a ghastly hue, and it was some moments before he regained his
self-possession. He had exposed himself to a quarantine of ten days.
The town of Funchal had a novel appearance, with its white houses and
flat roofs, its steeples, and turrets, and the mountains rising in the
distance. The climate was beautiful. We had thrown aside our cloaks
and overcoats, and were enjoying the genial breeze, and requiring
protection from the sun’s rays. Ripe figs, oranges, and other fruits
were brought off to us in baskets.
From Madeira to Barbadoes is about two thousand five hundred miles,
which we made in thirteen days. It is the most easterly of the Caribbee
Islands, and lies in twelve degrees north latitude. Notwithstanding the
trade-winds blowing constantly in our favor, the heat and confinement
on board of a crowded steamer, under the tropics, were quite sufficient
to cause all to rejoice in making this low island, which is seen
about thirty miles off, and is about the size of the Isle of Wight;
say twenty-five miles in length, and fifteen in breadth. It is richly
cultivated, and one of the most populous islands for its size. There
are some high lands called Scotland, resorted to by invalids, and from
its being the first island that has the trade-winds, it is considered
the coolest. We landed at Bridgetown, the capital, upon Carlisle Bay;
it is a considerable town, stretched along the shore for two miles,
with some twenty thousand inhabitants.
The yellow fever was committing great ravages among the British troops
and residents. I stopped but a short time and then took the steamer,
to make the tour of the other islands landing and receiving passengers
and mails at the English islands of St. Lucia, St. Kitts, Montserrat,
Dominica, Tortuga, Antigua, as also the French islands of Martinique
and Guadaloupe, affording an opportunity of sailing along all those
beautiful and picturesque shores on board of a large and commodious
steamer, with but few passengers and mostly islanders, who could point
out all the striking peculiarities of each island, town, mountain, and
volcano, as they presented themselves. At one glance in passing near
the shore, with the aid of a glass, you have in a beautiful slope or
valley, the house of the sugar planter nearly lost in the foliage of
gardens of bananas and cane fields, with the slender stems of thousands
of cocoa-nut trees forming a green fence upon the sea-shore. Then
again you have immense rocks or mountains which rise up from the sea,
covered with evergreen foliage, their summits hung with white clouds;
standing as pillars at the entrance of some deep bay or circuitous
cave, formerly the secure abode of pirates. At Martinique they told us
that they had had several slight shocks of earthquakes, and when one
considers the sufferings from them as well as hurricanes, it is not
surprising the people should be excited. The country around St. Pierre
is quite pretty, with its cane fields and palm trees, intersected with
winding roads and dotted with white houses. The town is regular and
cleanly, and looks more European than most of the English islands.
At St. Kitts we landed two fellow passengers from Europe, residents of
the island. The town is called Basseterre, and as a writer remarks,
the valley looking from the sea, in softness, richness, and perfection
of cultivation, surpassed anything he had ever seen in his life. Green
velvet is an inadequate image of the verdancy of the cane fields which
lie along this lovely valley, and cover the smooth acclivities of
Monkey Hill. This hill is the termination of a range of great mountains
which thicken in enormous masses in the centre of the island. The apex
of this rude pyramid is the awful crag of Mount Misery, which shoots
forward over the volcanic chasm. The height is three thousand seven
hundred feet, and it is bare and black at the summit. Monkeys still
exist in large numbers on this island.
I arrived at St. Thomas at last, alone, having lost all my fellow
passengers from England, who were scattered to the four winds; some had
preceded me by steamers direct, en route for South America, or to the
Leeward Islands, others had left us from time to time in the Windward
Islands. I took up my quarters at the hotel, which is one of the best
in the West Indies, allow me to say for the information of those who
may come this way.
This small island, belonging to the Danes, has a free port, and with
its excellent and commodious harbor for shipping, has become the great
depot for goods and merchandise for the supply in part of some of the
other islands, and the coast of Venezuela. The population is some ten
thousand, and is composed of native Creoles, French and Danes, and many
German, French, and English merchants, consequently all languages are
spoken. The town is prettily built on three hills, rising from the Bay,
and surmounted by picturesque conical mountains. The horseback rides
are very good, and in four hours one can make the tour of the island.
In consequence of the emancipation of the blacks in Santa Croix,
another Danish island, after the insurrection and destruction of
property in June last, the Governor gave the negroes here their
liberty. The planters complain of the low price of sugar and the
difficulty of getting the blacks to work, they being such an indolent
race, and it requiring so little to support life in these warm
latitudes. The merchants of St. Thomas have suffered much, and cannot
either realize for goods sold, or extend sales, and business is
paralysed in the West Indies, with all their resources and beautiful
climate. The English planters complain of injustice on the part of the
mother country, but if they are not satisfied with part payment for
their slaves, what will the holders say in the Danish islands who have
received no compensation, the mother country being too poor to pay them?
In the French islands they complain of injustice from the new Republic,
which proclaimed not only the abolition of all slavery, but universal
suffrage, which sent their enemies to the National Assembly at Paris,
as members, to vote against their interests. The French Republic will
yet do justice to her colonies, I think, but in the interim labor is
considerably suspended, and the crops will be much neglected.
The island of St. Croix lies forty miles south of St. Thomas, and
schooners run over frequently in six hours. Having some travelling
companions who are planters on this beautiful island, I sailed for
West End, a small town, and of much less importance than East End
at the other extremity of the island. The rides on the island are
beautiful and picturesque; the roads are excellent, being mostly
level, and bordered with cocoa, palm, lime, and other tropical trees,
affording much shade and delight to the eye. The immense cane fields
were promising a rich reward to the planter, as the season has been
favorable; but the sugar works and houses of the planters, which
were formerly annually brushed up and kept in good repair, are much
neglected this year, since the burning and destruction of property by
the blacks in the insurrection. Some of the planters are complaining
for want of help, but others say they get on tolerably, and I thought
the gangs under the new system worked very well. It is the intention
of the new governor to compel able-bodied persons to work, or be
arrested. I had an opportunity of conversing not only with the planters
themselves, but with the negroes in their cabins, and found them
generally satisfied; and in reply to my questions as to the difference
between slavery and freedom, some who had had good masters found
themselves worse off than before, as they had medical attendance when
sick; others said they preferred to be free and work when they liked.
The season of Christmas at St. Thomas was less noisy than usual, as the
Governor issued orders to prevent the usual parade through the streets
with masks and music. The life of the judge had been threatened by
those who were aggrieved, but the citizen police were out parading the
streets, and all passed off quietly.
I found some old acquaintances resident here, at whose hands I received
many courtesies rendering my stay agreeable. I am now awaiting the
departure of the English mail schooner to visit that part of South
America of which the Republic of Venezuela forms a portion.