St. Pierre, May 30.
Again I address you from the pleasant town of St. Pierre—the London of
the windward colonies; whither I was glad to return as soon as
circumstances would allow. Finding that we may be detained here some
time longer, we have taken private apartments, where we have very good
accommodations, and are patiently waiting for an opportunity to proceed
to St. Domingo. We learn that the large hospital, La Charité, has been
used as a general depôt of sick, not only for Martinique, but also for
the neighbouring colonies; whence it must necessarily result that the
weekly reports, from this island, can afford no just criterion of its
healthiness or insalubrity. Numbers of the medical and surgical cases
borne upon the Martinique returns, having been brought hither from other
stations, the proportion of sickness and death will consequently be
diminished in those places, while that of this island will be increased;
and the returns will be a very inaccurate standard for ascertaining the
casualties by disease in the several colonies: still, upon a general
computation, I cannot but observe the correctness of a remark lately
expressed to me by Sir Ralph Abercromby—viz. “that the coast of Guiana
has been less destructive than the islands!”
I may now remark that the general face of this colony differs not less
from the coast of Demarara, than the town of St. Pierre does from the
town of Stabroek. The combination of grand and beautiful scenery, with
richness and fertility, renders Martinique one of the most pleasant
islands, not only of the West Indies, but, perhaps of the globe. I was
much delighted with the fine views, and the picturesque hills and fields
and woods of Barbadoes, but Martinique out-rivals them all—its valleys
are richer, its mountains higher, and its forests more deep and
extensive; nor does it bear about it the same marks of exhaustion and
decrepitude, but seems to luxuriate in all the vigour of youth and
health.
A few days since, I made an excursion into the country, when scenes of
rude nature and fertile cultivation presented themselves in the most
pleasing variety at almost every step of my path. My visit was to Mr.
Dornford the commissary of accompts, whom I found residing in a cool
temperature, at a most romantic cottage, upon a high mountain, about
three miles from St. Pierre; whither he had retired in search of the
health, which he had lost in the heated town below.
Leaving St. Pierre, with its fine bay, and the wide ocean, the ascent is
by a steep path, between hills planted with cassada and coffee, leading
to mountains still higher and higher; some covered with rich tropical
productions, others clothed with wild woods, and the loftiest of them
festooned with dark majestic clouds. At one part of the ride the path
runs along a narrow mountainous ridge, whose steep declivities, on each
side, are formed into fields of coffee and cassada. On the left, the
deep vale below is loaded with sugar, and enriched with the silent
meanderings of a river, which in its course through these (literally)
sweet fields, wanders to the foot of a most rural village, and thence
winds its passage onward to the sea. On the right, the more extended and
equally productive valley is bordered by other hills, beyond which
appears the broad expanse of the ocean: so that within the immediate
view is comprehended all the variety of hill and vale, prolific fields,
rugged mountains and wild forests, the roaring sea, a gentle river, a
quiet romantic village, and the busy public town of St. Pierre. Were a
spot to be chosen, it would be difficult perhaps to find another which
so amply combines all that might be wished for in the most exquisite
panorama.
According to the custom of the West Indies, I was attended by a running
footman, in the person of a young slave, who kept close to his duty by
holding fast to the mane, or the tail of the horse.
While I was at the cottage a storm came on, which was followed by heavy
torrents of rain; and the many beauties of the scenery around, were
improved by the fine varieties of light and shade: but the wet increased
the difficulties of my path; and on my return, I found it expedient to
dismount, and commit my steed to the care of my attendant, in order to
avoid falling over his ears.
Within the distance of an evening promenade the environs of St. Pierre
present a great diversity of interesting prospects, which are commonly
closed by a magnificent back-ground of stupendous mountains.
In no particular does the novelty of Martinique strike the observer more
forcibly than in the great number of females who are seen at the doors
of the houses, or parading about the streets and public walks. At
Demarara it was a subject of common remark, that after the British
troops arrived, the males far outnumbered the females; but at
Martinique, notwithstanding the military battalions, the proportion is
greatly in favor of the other sex. On my noticing this fact, two causes
were assigned in explanation of it—1st, the general policy of the
French, who have usually imported a greater proportion of female slaves,
than either the English or the Dutch; 2dly, the late influx of female
emigrants from Guadaloupe, and the other French islands. Amidst the
crowded numbers, are also many more European ladies than we had been
accustomed to see in the colonies of Guiana.
The creole pallor of countenance, common to West Indians, prevails also
at Martinique; yet we meet with many females at St. Pierre, and some,
even, among the people of colour, whom we now regard as handsome; but I
speak only comparatively with those of other tropical places, for,
amidst the fresh roses of our English beauties, the prettiest of these
would seem pale and faded.
Their figure and carriage are graceful, and they have all the vivacity
of the European French women: (a proof that this part of the Gallic
character is not the effect of climate.) It is remarkable that many of
the handsomest women now at St. Pierre, are emigrants from Guadaloupe,
which colony seems to be the Circassia of the West Indies; for, almost
uniformly, when we have noticed a woman whose figure and face had more
than common attraction, we have been told “C’est une emigrée de la
Guadaloupe,” or “C’est une Guadaloupienne.”
We made an excursion, a few days ago, to eat fish at a village called
Chasse-pilote, upon the border of the sea, a short distance from St.
Pierre. Here we observed likewise that the streets were crowded with
women; and that scarcely a male was to be seen among them. A venerable
French lady invited us into her house, and treated us with fruit, paying
many compliments to the character of the British troops, and speaking in
high terms of the English nation, in general. Near Chasse-pilote we
found the Cassia fistularis planted in extensive groves, and under the
trees were lying heaps of the pods which might have served to make
lenitive electuary for a year’s consumption for all England.
On the occasion of a late funeral at St. Pierre, we had a farther
opportunity of noticing the great disproportion of females which is so
remarkable at Martinique; they having contributed in excessive numbers
to the crowd. The whole of this scene being novel, I may mention to you
some of the leading circumstances regarding it.
It was the burial of a child of colour, who had been made a Christian
according to the forms of the church of Rome. The procession was deeply
thronged, and conducted by the dark-hued race in their highest style of
African parade. The corpse was placed in a coffin, but instead of being
fastened down, it was only lightly covered with a fine sheet of linen,
which served as a pall. Two mulatto women, clad in white, preceded the
body, supporting the two corners of the sheet: two negro women, clothed
also in white, followed, holding the two other corners. Six men
supported the coffin upon three white napkins, the two first and the two
last dressed in dark clothes, those in the middle in white. Immediately
behind the corpse were several negro and mulatto women, mostly in
coloured apparel; and behind these was a great crowd of nearly three
hundred women, negroes, mulattoes, and mestees, all neatly and uniformly
attired in white; walking nine or ten abreast, and almost filling the
street from side to side, and from end to end. The female costume was a
high white turban, a chemise with very large, loose, short sleeves,
pinned together across the back, and a short white petticoat. The whole
being very clean and neat, the black face, neck, and limbs relieved the
general whiteness of the dress; and, together with the yellow and pallid
countenances, which were intermixed, produced a peculiar and striking
effect.
We have also witnessed another degree of the pomp of Catholic obsequies,
in the funeral procession of a white inhabitant of St. Pierre. On this
occasion, nineteen men and boys led the way, clothed in red and white,
and bearing numbers of crosses, vases, candelabra, and tapers. Following
these were twelve men, dressed in black, carrying similar ornaments and
apparatus, and chanting in sonorous strains. Next came the corpse,
supported by six men, with four others at the corners, clad in sable,
and having bundles of enormous candles in their hands: then succeeded a
deep line of mourners, some wearing the aspect of unaffected sorrow,
some with features of the greatest indifference, heedlessly carrying
large torches, and others with vacant countenances howling out purchased
grief, to the great annoyance of the Protestant inhabitants of the
streets through which they passed.
In order to witness the mode of proceeding in the French, as well as in
the Dutch and English colonies, I have been induced again to attend a
sale of a cargo of slaves. They were exposed to public bidding, in an
open square, at the end of the town of St. Pierre; but, as the business
was conducted by Englishmen, and according to their usual method, it
offered nothing new regarding this degrading traffic in our species. It
will give you pleasure to hear of a circumstance respecting the cargo,
which, though direful to the enemy, does honor to the captain and his
crew, by showing that they must have treated these poor Africans with
kindness and humanity, during the passage from their native country to
their place of bondage. On their voyage to Martinique the vessel was
captured by a French privateer, and a prize-master was put on board to
carry the ship and cargo into Guadaloupe: but, before they reached the
harbour, the negroes rose upon the captors, and killed the French
prize-master, together with all his people; then, liberating the English
crew, restored to them their vessel, and gave themselves up to be
conducted to Martinique, where they were to be sold as slaves. You will
probably anticipate the information, that those negroes, who were the
leaders in recapturing the ship, were purchased on the part of
government, and received as soldiers into the black corps of the island.
Consistently with the desultory style of these Notes, I may conduct you
from the painful ideas of slavery to the pleasurable scenes of the
theatre. The playhouse stands prominent among the places of amusement at
St. Pierre. It is a well-built edifice, handsomely fitted up, and
liberally supported. The performances are given by a company of French
comedians, whose talents, if not such as to obtain plaudits from the
audience of Drury Lane, or Le Theatre François, may claim their rank in
the station of mediocrity.
In point of size and decoration, the building is superior to the
majority of playhouses in the provincial towns of England, and scarcely
inferior to the Haymarket theatre, of London. Probably such an
establishment might not find support in any of the British colonies of
the West Indies; yet, at the little island of Martinique, the house is
not only well attended, but often thronged, particularly on the Sabbath
night; for, Sunday being a gala day, multitudes crowd to their favorite
amusement, and the theatre commonly overflows.
The audience is sometimes very brilliant—indeed exceedingly splendid;
for the influence of fashion extends to these regions, and dress has its
charms, even where so little is required. The ease and gracefulness of
French manners have also reached this spirited colony. In the manners,
the persons, carriage, and attire of the females, there is likewise a
peculiar air of taste and magnificence. They appear with naked elbows,
and waists extremely short, according to the prevailing mode in Europe.
The high twisted turbans, glittering trinkets, and nodding plumes enrich
the general elegance of the apparel; and, being intermixed, throughout
the theatre, with the many-coloured uniforms of the officers, the whole
produces a variety and brilliancy of effect scarcely to be equalled in
the more spacious realms of Drury Lane, or Covent Garden. A dollar is
the price of admission into the boxes; half a dollar into the pit, the
gallery, or the parterre.
The weather has been dry and pleasant ever since our arrival at
Martinique; nor have we yet any marks of the approaching wet season,
although it was supposed that the rains had set in, some time since,
upon the coast of Guiana. We find the heat greater here than at
Demarara; but this is probably the effect of locality. The town of St.
Pierre may be hotter than the town of Stabroek, though the general
temperature of the colony, especially upon the hills, be lower.