habitants of the rock, where they had not resided long before the father was taken suddenly ill, and in a few hours expired. The boy, a child about seven years of age, was in a distressing situation-alone, and without assistance, on a rocky island by the side of his deceased father; he had, however, the sense to hoist the blue flag half mast high as a token that assistance was wanted on the island, and it was not long before the signal was answered. The child was brought off, and from that day there have been always two men stationed on the rock. Between this fort and the main land is a small island, called Sir William Young's Island. It contains no other habitation than a shed, and parties of gentlemen sometimes repair thither on marooning excursions. It is curious, but not the less a fact, that the sand on the beach at Calliaqua is of a sparkling jet black, whilst that of this little island, which is hardly separated from the main land, is white as the driven snow. The ride from Kingstown to Calliaqua is delightfully pleasant, and the scenery all along the road is exquisitely beautiful. In ascending the hill at the commencement, and looking down on the town below, the view surpasses all description, and is perhaps equal to the finest scene in the West Indies. Then in the progress of the ride Greathead estate, peeping upon the road through the rich foliage that surrounds it; below, the mill working, and the curling smoke ascending from the boiling-house; the beautiful valley, entitled Arnos Vale, with the sea before it, fringed with a superb row of mountain cabbage-trees; the change that presents itself when you have passed the vale, and the great variety of scenery conspicuous on the whole road, too fair to be described, and yet too remarkable to be forgotten. Greathead Estate is perhaps one of the finest in the island. I received some kindness from the manager, and was a frequent guest at his breakfast-table, a right hospitable table in its way, and one that suited my palate to a nicety. The estate was at a nice distance from town, and had the superior attraction of a very superb bathing house. A delicious bath in the morning is very conducive to health, especially when succeeded by a delicious breakfast; and I seldom went thither without receiving the whole of one and a share of the other. The great house is a great house in every sense of the word. Its external appearance resembles a large manufactory more than a gentleman's residence; and, unlike the generality of West India buildings, it is of deep red brick. It has the three C's, for its rooms are cool, comfortable, and capacious; a fourth C (sea) is visible from its back windows, and that is the Atlantic. It commands a fine prospect; but for its advantageous situation it is not to be compared to the house on "Sion Hill Estate," which overlooks the town, and is in my opinion a residence more to be envied than any other spot in the Island of St. Vincent. From this charming place you have a magnificent view of the windward coast, Fort Duver nette, Dorsetshire Hill, the town, the garrison, and the Grenadines. It was here that I spent one of the pleasantest months of my life, and many delightful excursions have I taken in company with its worthy manager. Sion Hill flourishes under the superintendance of a man who has well learnt his profession; and if I had property in the West Indies, I would rather see it in the hands of Mr. Allan than of any other manager I am acquainted with. He is a man who never allows any thing to interfere with the duties of the estate; and in the attention which he pays to the comforts of the negroes, as well as to the cultivation of the land, does ample justice to the owner, and is highly deserving of his confidence. It was on a fine morning, in the month of May, that I was taking breakfast with this gentleman and another friend, when his servant announced the arrival of the return mail boat from Trinidad and Grenada; therefore, as soon as we had finished our meal, I mounted horse and rode to the post-office, where I found a long, long letter-to me a long letter is the most abominable of all abominable abominations. It gives me the shivers and the blue devils, and all the other devils that are neither shivering nor blue. This was from my friend Major W, and I saw by the commencement that it was giving me, in accordance with my request, a brief description of the Island of Trinidad. As I asked this for my readers, and not for myself, I determined not to peruse it till it should appear in print. Had the major known this, he would have been, no doubt, in a devil of a rage; but, as the matter stands, the major lies in his grave, and so "peace to his manes." For the letter it hath survived its writer; and, as I have no doubt of its interest to the generality of readers, for the major was a quaint man, I will insert it for their benefit-Le voici. CHAPTER XXV. TRINIDAD. "He liked the soil, he liked the clement skies, Thompson. Letter of Major W DEAR BAYLEY, Trinidad, 4th May, 1827. I AM about to keep my promise, in telling you something of Trinidad. After we left you, we had a glorious breeze all against us, so I went to bed, and went to sleep, and got up, and got my breakfast, and never took any notice of what was going on, for the captain told us that the Duke of York was a fine brig that was true, and knew her own way into port that was not true; however, in two days she scudded under full sail, into Boca Grande, or the Big Bogee, as I call it, and passed on to the gulf of Paria, which is the most angelic gulf I ever saw. It reminded me of my boyish days, for I threw one of the ship's blocks into the smooth water, and it made the finest duck and drake imaginable, so I set the incident down in my journal as a remedy, in case of a failure of provision in a smooth sea. When I describe a beautiful place, I always begin with the most beautiful things in it. These you will easily guess, are the women: and of a truth the women of Trinidad are most superb creatures. To be sure |