M     The sun was low when the pilot came on board and his boat was taken in tow. As it grew darker, this boat and the steamer seemed to be in a sea of fire. I never saw the phosphorescent glow more brilliant than it was there. We dropped anchor outside the harbor, as it was too dark to get in, and in the morning steamed up by the old forts, and fastened to the pier. The town is pretty well masked by the foliage, and not much of it can be seen from the harbor. Crowds of the inhabitants were to be seen, though, attracted by the arrival of the vessel. They were chiefly blacks; indeed, the population of the island is mostly made up of them, from coal-black to coffee-colored. There are some coolies brought here on contract ito do plantation work, and once in a while one may be seen, in strange and picturesque costume, in the town.

     The streets are usually narrow, with no side-walks to speak of, and do not smell sweet. The houses of the better class are stuccoed, and are embowered in fruit- and flower-trees. All are inclosed by high walls. For this reason one feels the town to be inhospitable and uninteresting, except in the poorer districts, where the houses are built of poles, mud, or wattle, and where the people live at the door, with their dogs and pigs about them. They seem very happy, and I doubt if extreme destitution is known among them.  

     The races were on, and, taking a cab, as the heat was intense, we went up, more to see the people than the horses, although they have some pretty good ones here. We first went up to the grand stand to see the swells of the island; they came with their wives, their families, and some with their lady-loves. Many of the ladies were good-looking, and all of them languid; the vivacity and energy of the New York girl were absolutely wanting. The dresses were gay in color,—light blue, pink, or white,—in silk, linen, or gauze. 

     Elsewhere soldiers, candy-sellers, poor men, and beggars were happy, chattering to oneanother about the diiferent horses in a language supposed to be English, making small bets, chewing sugar-cane, and otherwise amusing themselves. We walked back to town, selecting a street that we supposed to be one occupied by the middle class, followed it down to the business portion of the city, and began a search for a good restaurant. There are plenty of them, but none very good. In the one we selected, the kitchen was open to public view, and what we saw was not appetizing, though picturesque. However, there are some very good hotels. The kitchen in the restaurant at which we stopped for dinner was in the courtyard of the building, open to the sun and rain; the floor was of brick, and the chickens and dogs had the freedom of it, and it was littered with corn-husks, straw, and bits of wood. There was no stove, the fire being built oh a stone bench, or platform. The meal was a good one, but how they managed to cook it, with their conveniences, is a mystery. 

     An open-air concert was given that night, and of course the sight-seer folťþlowed the crowd. The grounds were beautifully decorated with hundreds of Chinese lanterns, and fireworks were set off in great quantities. Here one saw all complexions, black predominating. The music was furnished by the military band of one of the native regiments, and was fairly good. Wetried to find a seat, but they were all taken; so, settling ourselves in a row on the rim of a large fountain, we chatted away pleasantly until one of our number jumped from his seat with an exclamation more forcible than polite, and began gingerly pulling from his coat-tail pockets a package of wet smoking-tobacco, a box of matches, and a dripping handkerchief, while a smile began to spread itself on the faces of the rest of the party, suddenly to die, however, as each man, with one accord, put his hand behind him, and then stood up. We had all been dangling our coat-tails among the goldfish for fifteenminutes. 

     The streets were crowded. Every store seemed to be also a gambling-place, and the rattle of dice was constantly in our ears. Menand women were given to this entertainment alike; of course, they were of the lower classes. 

     In the morning we started out again, and saw more of the town. We were well-treated by every one wherever we went, and carried away with us a very pleasant remembrance of the kindliness of the people. On our way to a restaurant to get dinner, we came to a park, at the entrance to which, on a large pedestal, was the statue of a dignified old gentleman. Our attention was attracted to this statue, as we approached it, by one of the party saying: " See that tablet on the front of the pedestal. What an odd way to inscribe a gentleman's name that is! " We looked, and read in large black letters on a white ground, " BILL-STICKERS."Below this was smaller lettering. Agreeing with him that it was rather odd, we went nearer to examine it, and found that what appeared to be a white marble tablet, placed exactly in the center of the front of the pedestal, was really a piece of paper pasted there as a notice to bill-stickers that they would be prosecuted if they made use of this base, and that the dignified gentleman was not the unfortunate owner of so undignified a name, inscribed in so undignified a manner. 

    After lunch the miner and I, no one else wishing to accompany us on tthe expedition, concluded to take a carriage and drive out of town, to see, if possible, something of the life of the people in the country. The road over which the driver took us was a good macadamized one, and led along the harbor shore. For a short distance it ran between the brick walls surrounding the grounds of flower-embowered houses,then by the more humble homes of the poor, then through plantation grounds, seemingly deserted, with broken-down gates, protected from encroachment by cactus hedges that protected much like logs of wood placed on end, to form such a stockade as was used by our pioneers to protect themselves from attacks of Indians. Every two or three miles a collection of small huts would be found, occupied by people who make a living by working on the plantations and by fishing. Some of them have little gardens, and raise fruit and vegetables, which they carry to town on their heads or on burros, to sell in the market-places. Along the streams, of which I remember two, were women and young girls washing and drying clothes, while naked little babies rolled in the sand or dabbled in the water. At one place we rode by the ruins of a most picturesque old fort, near which are the remains of an old vessel driven on shore by heavy weather, or condemned and left to go to pieces, and to take its time about it. The prisons are located on this road near the quarry in which many of the prisoners are obliged to work. As we reached it, we saw a line of men in loose, ill-fitting gray costumes, with the number of the wearer daubed in large figures all over it, front and back, walking to and fro between the barge they were loading and the pile of broken stones at the base of the cliff, where they would fill wooden trays or boxes holding a little more than a large coal-hod, throw them up on their heads, and carry them to the boat. They made a very effective picture; the black faces, darker in the shadow of the boxes on their heads, relieved against the white limestone quarry, were spots in the blaze of light that fastened your attention instantly, and held it. Many of the men were superb physically, and carried themselves as erect and straight as arrows. We were not allowed to admire them long, however, as one of the guards came to tell us that carriages were not allowed to stop, but must drive straight through the ground, unless permission was obtained at headquarters. We gained some little time by asking many unreasonable questions, until we saw that the men were hoisting the square sail on their boat, and that there was nothing more to see. 

     At short intervals, stationed so as to form a complete circle about the quarry, was a guard armed with a rifle. Shortly after, we returned to town. This was the last we saw of Jamaica, as early the next morning the steamer took in her lines and sailed out of the harbor, bound for Greytown, Nicaragua. 

Gilbert Gaul.

Daily Gleaner, March 29, 1893

Page 4, cols 4-5

Institute of Jamaica

Magazines for the month

"In 'The Century' . . . . Mr. Gilbert Gaul contributes a short illustrated article on 'Jamaica' from which one gets a suspicion that the ubiquitous kodak formed the bases of the illustrations.

F(rank) C(undall).