UC-NRLF 
 
 $B 303 b"lb 
 
 GUIDE TO ST. HELENaJ 
 
 DESCRIPTIVE AND HlSTOrvICAi 
 
 ^VITIi A 
 
 AND 
 
 By Joseph Lock wood. 
 
 *v^'lmm^immmmfm'''''mmmimmmtmmi^ 
 

GUIDE TO ST. HELENA, 
 
 DESCRIPTIVE AND HISTORICAL, 
 
 WITH A 
 
 vaaaffi ^m a<©sj<BW(D(DiD9 
 
 AND 
 
 Ta^auoiton*^ rointi^ 
 
 By Joseph Lockwood. 
 
 Forte est vinum, fortior est Rex, fortiores sunt mulieres, super 
 omnia vincet Veritas." 
 
 Sbt» »elena ; 
 
 FHINTED AND PUBLISHED BY GEO. GIBB* 
 MDCCCLI. 
 
Sz.lL 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 I think it necessary to explain by way of preface, how it 
 happens that the book should not run on exactly in continuous 
 or consecutive order. 
 
 That part of it which I have boldly taken upon myself to 
 call Historical, was written as an introduction to the St. 
 Helena Calendar for the present year, but, after being 
 printed, was not considered suitable to the decorous gravity, 
 and formal profundity of that learned and elaborate produc- 
 tion. 
 
 Some one conceived the idea of publishing it separately, 
 which, in the plenitude of my amour propre, I most gra- 
 ciously approved of, and so sat myself down to write an 
 Introduction to usher it into the world (of St Helena) in a 
 decent and becoming condition. 
 
 By some strange hocus-pocus of author-craft, however, 
 it grew to longer dimensions than the book it was intended 
 to introduce ; hence the necessity of this introduction to an 
 introduction I 
 
 This, it is hoped, will account in some measure for its 
 want of sequence and direct connection, which is all I intend 
 saying on that part of the business. 
 
 With respect to errors, slips of the pen, and other grave 
 matters of the kind, it b considered necessary to inform all 
 my truly benevolent readers, that I have no intention of 
 bothering them with the apparition of an errata, for severa] 
 reasons. First — because it would be a troublesome business, 
 and not by any means an interesting employment to myself — 
 for what man is fond of exposing liis deformities more than 
 
IV 
 
 he can help. Secondly — because those of my readers who 
 may find them out, either by accident or diligent enquiry, 
 will be proud of their achievements, and be sure to derive 
 satisfaction from the discovery — which is an innocent kind of 
 enjoyment, of which they ought not to be rasjjly deprived by 
 any over-anxiety of the author. 
 
 Those who do not find them out will be quite as contented 
 as if they never existed : why then trouble them with the 
 correction of a bundle of blunders which they have neither 
 the sagacity to perceive, or interest to care about ? 
 
 Respecting press errors, which will creep into any publica- 
 tion in spite of the utmost vigilance to prevent them, it may 
 be observed in palliation, that the book has been printed in 
 haste, amid interruptions, and under difiiculties, known only 
 to those conversant with typography. 
 
 It was a bold venture of the Printer to undertake the 
 execution of such an afikir, and highly creditable to bring it 
 to completion within a time so limited as he had at his 
 disposal. 
 
 Several chapters have been altogether omitted for want of 
 room, and many interesting extracts from the Visitors' Books 
 at Napoleon's Tomb, are reserved for other uses. 
 
 Rough and ready, with all its imperfections on its head, 
 it must venture forth, and meet its fate. 
 
 So get thee gone ! poor little book, and seek thy foster 
 friends wherever thou canst find them — thou art oflT my 
 hands — and good luck betide thee in thy passage through the 
 troubled stream, down which thy destiny must lead thee ! 
 
 St. Helena, 28th Feb., 1851. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Ante Chapter. — Which makes a beginning, and then flies off 
 at a tangent, for more reasons than one— but none of which are 
 explained. 
 
 Chapter I.— Being a Panorama round the coast. 
 
 Chapter II. — Which keeps the Panorama moving. 
 
 Chapter III.— Which goes round the coast, and keeps the 
 Panorama moving. 
 
 Chapter IV. — Which terminates the voyage and all its many 
 incidents. 
 
 Chapter V.— Which tells of the town and all that is therein. 
 
 Chapter VI. — A scamper round the country. 
 
 Chapter VII. — Which is the best in the book, and treats of 
 Religion— Orthodox and Heterodox. 
 
 Chapter VIII.— Which contains a profound enquiry into the 
 learning and literature of the Island. 
 
 Chapter IX. — A visit to Napoleon's Tomb. 
 
 Chapter X.— A pilgrimage to Longwood. 
 
 A Sketch of the History of St. Helena. 
 
ANTE CHAPTER. 
 
 •Viricn M.\KK3 A. BEOIXNINO, AND TUKS FLIES OFF AT A TANOENT , 
 FOR MORE REASONS THAX ONK, — BIT Novr ny WUICH ARE 
 EXPLAINED. 
 
 Saixt Helexa is a lonely Island, placed for some good reasons 
 unkoown to mortals hero below, in the South Atlantic Ocean, at such 
 a remote distance from the shores of Africa and America, that it 
 seems disowned by both. This is very unfortunate, when it is con- 
 sidered that it never did them any hann, either in the way of rivalry 
 or competition ; and very inconsiderate, as it is not altogether in a 
 bad position for making a halfway house from one continent to the 
 other. 
 
 It is said by learned Geographers and Climatologists, to be placed in 
 the heart of the South East trade wind, which blows pretty uniformly 
 in one direction. Thus ships in calling there are not in the same 
 unpleasant predicament that the poor old woman was, while she went 
 trudging to Church on a windy day, when it blew in her face all the 
 way there, and made the stumps of her teeth chatter to such an 
 alarming extent, that she prayed it would bo changed on her return 
 homo ;— -and changed it was, so that she had it in her face all the way 
 back again, to her inexpressible trouble and astonishment, deafened 
 as she was by the devil's tat-too being played against her will on the 
 stumps of her crumbling masticators. 
 
 It will be a consolation for mariners to learn, if they have not 
 learnt before, that when they run up to St. Helena with the wind 
 astern, they may run away from it with the wind in the same favor- 
 able position fur days together, but when they want to come back, 
 they will have it dead against them, which is better than having no 
 wind at all ; for by dint of a little seamanship and a great deal of 
 patience, they may beat up in time, and cast anchor in the bay ; 
 which although not quite so beautiful as that of Naples, or large as 
 that of Biscay or Bengal, is yet sulliciently capacious to accommodate 
 more ships than ever come into it ; deep enough for the longest cable ; 
 and secure enough for the richest Argosic that ever left " Cathay or 
 Callicut," freighted with a cargo of silks and aromatic spices froni 
 the oriental world. 
 
 St. Helena is famous for an inexhaustible supply of fresh water, 
 without a river ; for an indigenous *' Wire Bird," with legs like a 
 Band piper ; for a splenditl display of i)riekly pears ; an iron bound 
 coast : a ladder six hundred feet high — the high road to the up}>er 
 j»'LM'ii&; a time ball like a Dutch cheese on a May |K)le; for the 
 V< . c s>ion of " Lot and his Wife" ; a petrified " Friar'* ; for extinct 
 \o!( alios which can't be found; the grave of Napoleon; and for not 
 \ui\ iiiu^ had a wreck on its coast for time out of mind ; whereby hangs 
 a tale, for on learning this impunity from shipwreck, I mustered up 
 
.i? ■:; ; . -^ CiUlDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 courage to (leteriiiine on a voyage of discovery round the Island, — not 
 in a washing tub — but in a water tank, 
 
 "Clipper built, and schooner rigged, 
 Well coppered fore and aft." 
 
 This voyage of discovery, however, turned out to be like the sick 
 Irishman's cruize after a cargo of health, who was recommended by 
 his physician to take more exercise, sniff' the morning air into his 
 lungs, and walk once at least round the park, to keep his sluggish 
 blood in circulation. Away he went in full rig for the occasion, 
 enjoyed the pleasure, or suffered the misery of a valetudenarian trip, 
 and came back in a very doleful condition, having made the notable 
 discovery that his strength was entirely gone. Tremulous with emo- 
 tion and his eyes filled with tears, he gave utterance to the painful 
 thoughts afflicting him, with a " Whisht me honey — its very bad that 
 I am all over at all at all — may be my legs are wake abit, with a 
 weezing in the wind bag, that I have, like Phelira O'Shanes bellus, 
 stopt up in the nozzle ; bad luck to the cowld as got into mc ! Its bad 
 that I am in the bones iv me body and sowl all over wake for want of 
 strength and the likes of it, — for so bad was I docther, that I only 
 got half way round the Park and back, instead of doing the likes as 
 you tould me, to go all the way round — for the good of the health of 
 me body and the pain in me limbs, with the cowld thats got into me — 
 may be for want of the creathur, to drink your honors health, and 
 get in a prespriration to drive out the cowld that I have into me !" And 
 this was my case in the projected trip round the Island, for it ended 
 in going no more than half way round, and back again. But however, 
 the voyage was finally completed, by very gallantly making a second 
 attempt, going on the opposite tack, and ending at the point where 
 adverse fate compelled us to retrace our steps on the first occasion. 
 Then was the Island circumnavigated by an easy system of semi- 
 circumnavigation, learnt intuitively from the pressure of adverse 
 circumstances, like all the wonder working geniuses who have 
 indulged themselves on a long winded but triumphant " pursuit of 
 knowledge under difficulties." 
 
 Yet something maybe gleaned even from a voyage like this; patience 
 may be exercised, and the temper tried, but a philosopher will take 
 all things as calmly as becomes a man, and cull information where 
 others would be lost in a torrent of grief or a whirlwind of passion, 
 originating in the pangs of disappointment, misplaced confidence, or 
 unrewarded exertion. 
 
 In a dead calm at sea there is always time for reflection, as I found 
 in this voyage ; for while sitting on an empty basket looking wistfully 
 at the sleepy waters, and casting a weary eye on the distant horizon, 
 to catch the first glimpse of a rising cloud that might lead us to hope 
 in the advent of a breeze, I began to ponder and cogitate how it 
 could be, that in the very heart of the trade winds there was no wind 
 at all, and the more I thought the more I got puzzled, but the fact 
 remained the same — there was no wind — and our gallant craft re- 
 mained like a log in the waters, fixed and immoveable. 
 
 Hunger is a sharp thorn, and philosophy won't fill empty bellies, 
 therefore I took up a biscuit and munched, and pondered and munched, 
 but still I could not make it out ; I was troubled with the wind, and 
 recalled to miud, that— 
 
HELENA. 
 
 Whe^^^TOCTE^TBT apple fall, ho found 
 that slight stmtic from liis contemplation, 
 mode of proving that the earth turned round, 
 a most natural whirl, called gravitation," 
 
 ^egan forthwith to console myself by making a kind or armirr.fucai 
 , roblom, somewhat in this wise :— If Newton found gravitation by the 
 iall of an apple, what ought I to find by the fall of the wind, and the 
 result came out that I found I was in a fix, and that there was no 
 wind in the middle of the trade wind ; therefore, quoth I, there must 
 be a vacuum ; but nature abhors a vacuum, and this reminded mc 
 that I was hungry, if not lean. 1 rose from my reverie, and dived 
 ito the innermost recessch of a provision hamper, but it was empty— 
 another vacuum! the sun was scorching, and poured his almost verti- 
 cal rays upon the deck of our becalmed craft; — I was hot, feverish, 
 and dry ; my throat was parched ; I scrambled instinctively to a wine 
 bottle which caught my eye in one of the scuppers, but it was empty 
 — another vacuum ! and yet they tell us nature abhors such a detcstible 
 thing; all ray philosophy was upset and dead beaten ; it is impossible 
 to account for unaccountable things — 
 
 "And therefore I will leave of metaphysical 
 Discussion, which is neither here nor there, 
 If I agree that what is, is ; then this I call 
 Being quite perspicuous and extremely fair." 
 
 All, therefore, that I gathered in this memorable but disastrous 
 voyage was, the want of wind in the middle of the trade winds, aiid 
 proof positive of the existence of more than one vacuum in the world, 
 and that if nature does abhor a vacuum, she is quite right in so doing, 
 and has my hearty support and commendation for the virtuous display 
 of such a sensible manifestation of what is right and reasonable. 
 
 Having made two efforts to get round the Island under press of 
 canvass, and failed both times, as I believe for want of wind, but as 
 v>me wags wish to persuade mc — for want of seamanship, I undertook 
 3 circumnavigation in another style, and have reason to believe not 
 AM unsuccessful one. No man in his senses would trust him- 
 self to the tender mercies of a blind guide on such an expedition as 
 this, and as I had been ** tout a coup" seized with a sudden whim of 
 setting up for a pilot, I mustered up all my conscientiousness, and 
 began to instruct myself before I undertook the grave task of teaching 
 -hers as to what might be seen in a little trip round the rugged 
 lores of St. Helena. 
 
 I have never been able to find a via rcyia or royal road to learning 
 M any kind, but have found that whatever way is the easiest is the 
 lit'st in the long run, if it is systematically followed up; not that 1 
 urn systematic in anything, but as I never could bring myself to sen 
 ly advantage in makirg a toil of pleasure, 1 have always m ' 
 lie to go the easiest way about picking up any stray infon 
 ished to meet with, whether it might be of a trap dyke, or a rurny 
 loro, a cockle shell on the top of a mountain, or a fossil bone deep 
 .:t the depths of a dismal cave. 
 
 And supposing my readers to be of the same way of thinking (that 
 
 1* if I "I't :u\\\ tlu>v will iMit obirrf In liciiiv- rirtiin:f/l \n Viv p:i<v 
 
4 GUIDE TO ST. llELhlN... 
 
 going trouble-avoiding fashion, of enjoying tlic beauties, or the 
 horrorf!, as tb<; case may happen to be, of the wild and romantic 
 scenery round the coast of this much abused and brain bewildering 
 Island. Every guide has his own peculiar system, and they are most 
 of them terrible chatter boxes, prone to dish up musty legends, and 
 palm off egregious lies as sterling truths, besides being always very 
 scrupulous to take their visitors the roughest and most round about 
 ways, to show their knowledge of the country, and their skill in 
 avoidhig all kinds of imaginary dangers and unheard of difficulties, 
 which arc created by themselves, if they exist at all ; but the system 
 I have adopted is as remarkable for its ease as theirs is for the won- 
 derful difficulties they pretend to surmount. All that is necessary in 
 my much improved system, is to provide yourself with a nice easy- 
 chair with springs or air cushions, or a good broad ottoman, whereon 
 to lull and lounge, and go to sleep whenever my babbling may have a 
 soporific effect. And ^yhen all these are provided, you may take a 
 ramble, not only all round, but all over the Island, without stirring 
 out of the room, getting on horseback, or running the risk of bCiUg 
 made sea sick in a boat, or kept out all night in a sailing vessel for 
 want of wind, as 1 have been while picking up these " inconsiderate 
 trifles." 
 
 To undertake a description of what is indescribable, is rash and pre- 
 sumptuous ; to paint a picture to the "mind's eye," an unprofitable 
 speculation in the long run, unless you paint for people blessed with 
 Jiigh imaginative powers, or who can anticipate your meaning, even 
 where there may be no meaning in the case ; or that peculiar class of 
 people who take every thing for granted, and believe implicitly in all 
 they sec or read in print, on the principle that — 
 
 "A book's a book, altho' there's nothing in't." 
 
 If I should have the good fortune to meet with any of these class of 
 readers, I shall be sure of success, because, the former, by a mere 
 efibrt of imagination, will fill up all my omissions, and set right what 
 I may have pui down either wrongly or indift'erenlly ; while the latter, 
 good easy souls, will care nothing about it either the one way or the 
 other, because they believe firmly in the truth of what they read, and 
 therefore will let me off without asking a (juestion to find out my 
 deficiencies; and place full reliance on the credibility of statements 
 and descriptions, as all good people ought to do who trust themselves 
 to the care and protection of guides, whether in the shape of a learned 
 book, big with important inforniation, or that of a full blovvn man, in 
 all the majesty of his frail and erring morality, prone to super- 
 cilious airs and legendary lying, most inveterate.— Exit Author 
 
 in a state of frantic extacy — and enter a remarkable specimen of the 
 genus homo, clad in a peculiar fashion of provincial aspect, with 
 heavy ancle jacks, and blue worsted stockings, his nether extremities 
 enveloped in a pair of broad ribbed ccrduroy inexpressibles, adorned 
 with six mother o' pearl buttons on each knee, placed diagonal wise, 
 a scarlet Maistcoat sprigged with black spots, decorated with extensive 
 bone buttons, a Jjrown velveteen jacket, rather the worse for wear 
 and >; little damaged at the elbows, a belcher handkerchief slung 
 round his neck, and a felt wide awake hat slounched on his head ; a 
 little ^;jc-marked in the face, with a blue muzzle for want of a razor. 
 
GUIDE TO ''T. HEI.r.N'A. 
 
 Ho moiinls the steps of a rickctty cart — his travelling shop, and coni- 
 mcnccs a boisteious harangue, in a very oflhanded manner, with a 
 giiiart little book in his hand, which he nourishes about, exclaiming at 
 the top of his voice: — *' Now my lads and lasses, get out your pence 
 to buy the cheapest bargain ever bought or sold in or out of chhsten- 
 dcm ! Here am I, ♦' Cheap John," in my old shop, wiih a new 
 carjro of indispcnsible goods, of real original British manufacture, an 
 authorized work of an author, written for njyself, and conQj-oied by a 
 compositor, at an encrmous outlay, expressly for the private use of 
 the public. Not to w uste time by a useless jobation, 1 shall display 
 j\ll Its wonderful points and bearings to your admirii g gaze, and offier 
 it for sale, as becomes cheap John, from Brummagem, at next to no 
 price, and warrant them nil to be real home made, right down good 
 honest tales, stories, legends, and traditions, with a new and elegant 
 assortment of geographic, topographic, hydrographic descriptions and 
 delineations, true to nature, and real as life, with a brilliant collection 
 of remarkable sayings and wonderful doings, civil, military, and 
 nautical, suitable to all ages, tastes, and caj acitics ; peripatetic pcre- 
 giinations and |;erambulations, with all their peculiarities and ** inci- 
 dents of travel," equestrian and pedestrian, by land and sea, in tanks, 
 skiffs, and bum boats, giving a full, true, and particular account of 
 all the remarkable rocks, riveis, ravines, rents, shoals, shelves, ssyamps, 
 bogt:, hills, valleys, plains, woods, wilds, men, women, children, 
 blacks, whites, lawneys, freemen, sla\es, yanimers, yankeys, frcncb, 
 dutch, paddy-whacks, and *' Tortuguese," of all kinds, sizes, and 
 descriptions; old tales re-told, stale stories freshened up, renovated, 
 and re-polished, clipped, trimmed, and so altered and disguised, that 
 the "man as made 'em would'nt know 'em again,"--all to be had 
 gratis, for ready money, paid on delivery, without any deduction 
 whatsoever, cheaper than prime cost, at the old shop, where nothing 
 is sold but what is bought on the true principles of real trade '* small 
 profits, and quick returns," both to the buyer, seller, and looker on, 
 duty free, and charges paid, with a sealed permit, and stamped 
 license, duly insured in a good office, at the lowest rate of premium 
 ever paid for full and equitable protection trtm fire, weather, water, 
 thieves, and shipwrecks, nevertheless notwithstanding one and iudivisi- 
 able by "cheap John" himself, from Brummagem, who hereby offers 
 to give away, every thing he has to sell, to be had, when delivered 
 (or money dow n and no trust, to save trouble and long bills — " ihort 
 ' ckoninffs make Ion t; J'riends^'— who are as rare as black swans, 
 "mmon sense in Bedlam, honor among thieves, ireedom in prison, 
 . cullender without holes, a man without a fault, except myself and 
 \ ares, single, separate, mixed, or combined, descriptive, or historical, 
 nalytic or suggestive, with notes, and annotations, infinite emendations, 
 rw readings to old versions, curious conjectures, explanatory explana- 
 . and a variety of various variorums, diverse disqniiUions, and 
 e sentiments, drawn from new and oiigmal sources never before 
 I i< red, developed, studied or understood, lor want of irr - *;(n- 
 L'e or convenience, placid at niy disposal in the m rue 
 
 'vr, by diligent enquiry, exertion indefatigable, ui ^ ...i, of as 
 itcd as the superior information 1 am enabled to give in a 
 
 >.» «l ry.A i-t i«'r!>»! !>ti» riinii () . •Ill nt I'lrf aijl ii;r«» '« fiuM >n lu •• 
 
6 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 elegantly printed, beautifully bound, gilt edged, and lettered on thf; 
 back, a fit present for the peer or the peasant, inculcating morality or 
 moral principles, deduced from the revolutions of ages, the crash of 
 empires, and the fall of kings, without a chance of contradiction from 
 anybody but contradictors, impugners of veracity or cantankerous 
 catawaulers, dispising what they can't comprehend, lovhig what they 
 like, admiring what they admire- my suMime and beautiful self 
 " Cheap 'John" from Brummagem, ready cut and dried, with the finest 
 collection of odds and ends ever collected by one individual, and 
 ofFcred for sale regardless of expense ; to be sold without reserve at the 
 cheapest price consistent with honesty, to the highest bidder blest 
 with the chink in tizzies, tanners, bobs, or browns, all of legal weight 
 and carat standard, suitable for the payment of the best of guides, the 
 truest of historians, and honestest of chronicles of the lonely, lovely, 
 windy, rainy, hot, scorching, parched Island of Saint Helena ; written 
 by a writer, to be read by readers, as innumerable as the sand on the 
 beach, the stars in the sky, or fools in the world — excluding myself, 
 my readers, believers, buyers, and followers, who are, as oui^ht to be, 
 ** jolly good fellows every one" ornaments of their country, like 
 defmict philosopher?, worthy of admiration, and all respect, the esteem 
 of the world, a parasrraph in a paper, paid for puffing — a trick I scorn, 
 abhor and detest. Heres the book, the truest and best of guides round 
 the elysian fields of Saint Helena, now offered, without reserve, for 
 public bidding and buying, by the real original Cheap John, from 
 Clinker Alley, Brummagem, in his old shop, with the red wheels 
 newly painted, decorated, and adorned. 
 
 Now my lads and lassts, married and single, this is the time and 
 chance that may never happen or rise again, to pick up all the odds, 
 ends, facts, scraps, gleanings, and curiosities of the Island, abound- 
 ing in Bathos, Pathos, intense excitement, awful apparitions, calami- 
 tous catastrophes, startling incidents, remarkable revelations, wonder- 
 ful exploits, heroic achievements, inexplicable eccentricities, undoubted 
 originals, and comical oddities, all drawn from infallible sources to 
 entertain passengers during their perambulations and perigrinations, 
 in search of the sublime, beautiful, and picturesque, with every 
 information regarding parties and pic-nics, where to hold them, and 
 what to do ; fat ladies taken up the easiest roads by the shortest 
 routes, and carried piggie back up steep or stony places, all for a 
 small charge, too insignificant to mention, but gladly taken if freely 
 given, and never refused when amiably offered, with every requisite 
 required by requisition, chit, note, or verbal order for Horses, Mules, 
 and Asses, Tandems, Tilbury's, Sulky's, Shanderydans, or Dog 
 carts, for delicate females, children, and babies in arms, under the 
 care of the best of Guides, steady and careful, who is never known 
 to be drunk when he is sober, is ahvays civil, obliging, and entertain- 
 ing, of elegant manners, polite and plausible address, profoundly 
 versed, and highly experienced in all the ways and means, and ins 
 and outs, sayings and doings of the wonderful Island of St. Helena. 
 No connection with blind guides, or ricketty cripples ; small change 
 always at hand with every facility, wanted, wished, or required to 
 make a picknic pleasant, a party pleasing, whether on land or on 
 shore, here or there, or anywhere within a reasonable distance ; 
 
GUIDE TO 8T. HELENA. 7 
 
 trouble no consequence ; lost brooches, boas, or parasols, always found, 
 but never returned unless specially asked for, by hand-bjil advertise- 
 ment, or Gazette, ofTcring' a liberal reward for the trouble of finding, 
 and the pleasure of seeking, returning, bowing, and scraping, after 
 
 lie fashion of "Cheap John" from Clinker All<y, Brummagem, 
 I !awker-General, and licensed pedlar, duty paid and duly stamped — 
 
 flere's the p'lese a cummin /J 
 
 . xit John, and enter the author in a state of excitement, shouting 
 ;uid bawlint? Drat that chap, hes honed my hook ? wiping his forehead 
 with a cotton handkerchief, Tunning his fingers through his disordered 
 hair, and buttoning up his dingy black waistcoat to hide a suspicious 
 looking dickey, he makes a polite bow to John's deserted audience, 
 and commences in a dolorous strain a pathetic address, with — 
 Ladies and Gentlemen, 
 Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking, under the excitement of 
 the moment caused by a combination of curious and incompatible 
 
 ^incidences, as unexpected as they are heterogeneous and analogous 
 
 ) the chapter of Jtcculents not directly under my immediate control, 
 lor want of a methodical and well digested knowledge of the anatomy 
 of coming events, inseparable from a comprehensive acquaintance, 
 cultivated with untiring assiduity for the laudable purpose of investi- 
 gating the moral obliquity of a man presuming to take to himself, what 
 by the inscrutable nature of incomprehensible things, per se or intoto, 
 could never have appertained to him, as may be logically proved by an 
 axiomatic definition, equivalent to a syllogism, on the antepenultimate 
 version of the preliminary matters, supposed to be inseparably 
 connected with an inquiry into what could be the primary cause of 
 this infatuated individual's enormous and unparalelled delinquency, in 
 surreptitiously appropriating to himself ray editia pritna or princeps 
 i\ r j)ecuniary purposes, as Milton has said with his usual sublime 
 energy, 
 
 " He that steales what is'nt his'n," 
 
 Shall go to prison, — by the living jingo! exclaimed a gruff looking 
 policeman, seizing the author in the midst of his address, and explain- 
 ing the object of his unexpected mission, as politely as he could, for 
 ' <; was a good sort of fellow in his way, only his way happened to be 
 
 one of the best, *• I ave borders to happrehend you hon a charge 
 
 f pilfcriiii,', stealing, and purloining in a wery wicious way, a var.ety 
 r waluablc matters and materials from hunknoun horthers, whot as 
 laid a formation against ycr for such hact of wagrant willany ; I in 
 konscquencc, hapi)rehend you on suspicion of being suspected ; — so 
 budge on old iellow will yer ! 1 aim a goin to stop hero all day, 
 for such a guy as you!" Suiting the action to the word, be gave 
 him a gentle reminder on the ribs with the tip of his truncheon, 
 which roused the author from the revcry he had fallen into, who 
 exclaimed in a tone of surprise, mingled with resentment — 
 
 ** Where arc yer shoving to— aye ?" 
 
 ** Move on, will ycr ;" answered the policeman. 
 
 ** Oh liberty I liberty! what deeds aro committed in thy name." 
 muttered the chop fallen author — ** the right of discussion abolished : 
 the freedom of the press invadod ; the rights of man overtumcd ; and 
 
8 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 authors treated like vile felons, and thrust into " " Chokev" 
 
 said the officer, as he ])ushed him into the round house, slammed th*? 
 door to, turned the lock, i)ul the key in his pocket, and tramped ort 
 on his beat, humming to himself, — 
 
 Rule Britannia! Britons never will be slaves ! 
 Daylight soon passed ; a long night wore away ; the morning sun 
 rose clear and bright, and sent a cheering ray through the bars of the 
 prison door to comfort the unhappy author ; he was soon examined : 
 the case rigorously investigated ; and not one single item could hv 
 proved against him ; nothing could be identified or recognized in any 
 shape or form ; he was honorably acquitted of all charges of borrow- 
 ing, stealing, pilfering, or plagarising— but "his worship" added, 
 by way of showing his grace, and legal erudition, *' Young man ! you 
 have had a narrow escape, — let this act as a warning to you for the 
 future." — " Usher, call the next case"— Exit author, laughing in 
 his sleeves ! 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 liBINQ A PANORAMA BOUND THE COAgT. 
 
 Before entering into a description of the Interior of iho Island, I 
 shall talcu U))oit myself tu make a voyage round it, and ^ive an account 
 ot all the bights and scenes to be met with along its bold and rugged 
 coast, antl believe me, o« the word of a faithful and honestly disposed 
 guide, that it is worth seeing, and will amply repay the trouble of a 
 coast iuiT voyage. 
 
 The Island contains but one town and that not a very large one, 
 which is p.ated in a valley, or rather a deep gorge, between two lofty 
 mountains, both of which terminate abruply and overhang the sea, 
 forming the Eastern and Western boundaries of the Town, as also a 
 little Bay, in which is the roadstead, where all the shipping anchor 
 when calling in for water, or refreslmient. 
 The Bay itself is but very small, the roadstead extends however a 
 -iisiderable distance along the coast, where vessels may anchor if they 
 pleasf almost close to the rocks, at the base of the cl.ffs, for the 
 water in most parts of the coast is sufficiently deep for that purpose, 
 but prudent sailors generally like to lie out some distance from the 
 landing place, to keep their vessels out of harm's way, and avoid the 
 risk of an unpleasant bump on the low sea beaten rocks. 
 
 There are generally soaie ships in it, and often ships of all nations, 
 of the finest class, are there together, distinguishe<l of course by their 
 flags, which are well known almost to every one on the island, for 
 watching the coming and going of the ships forms not the least part of 
 the stock of atnusement doled out with a frugal hand to vary the 
 usually monotonous life of the inhabitants confined to the narrow 
 limits of the Oi-d Rock, as they afi'ectedly, or allectionately term it 
 amongst themselves. 
 
 As soon as a vessel rounds the bold and massive point of Ruin-rts 
 Hill, the Utile Town opens into view, being seen over the long low 
 line of ramparts, which follow tlie line of the Bay. 
 
 The place looks cheerful enough, when seen fur the first time, il it 
 hapi)ens to be a fine day, when it is lit up the great lamp glowing over 
 head in the deep blue sky ; but it is dismal Ci.ough when seen on a 
 wet day, or when half buried in the mist and fog which somi-iinirs 
 cnvelo{>e, and almost shut ii out from sight, except a few buildings 
 near tlie lines, which appear like )>hi\ntom structures rising from the 
 seething va|X)urs of some boiling subterranean reservoirs. 
 
 The bay is dotted over with a number of boats of all kinds and 
 ^izes — from the light and elegant whale boats of the ftshennen, to 
 the hi avy square storncd passage boats ; tu say nothing of those 
 belonging to the shipping, and by way of variety, there are a few 
 with masts, which are lieldom used, either for pleasure or business, 
 as there is but little of either one or the other in this plaice. 
 
 The most striking vessels in the bay, are condenmed slave prizes, 
 which may bo seen in every stale, from those but recently airivcdi 
 
10 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 with all their spars and rigging up, to those cut down to the waters 
 edge, preparatory to breaking up for sale, either for fiiewcod, or for 
 more useful purposes. Many of these vessels are remarkable for 
 their symmetry, or as it is professionally called *' their lines," which 
 pretty clearly prove that they are more adapted for speed, than for 
 any other purpose ; on an average they are not built ior durability, 
 two or three trips across the Atlantic would be quite as much as 
 many of them could endure, without running the chance of tumbling 
 to pieces, or requiring more repair than they arc worth. As soon as 
 an empty slavpr comes into the bay, she is anchored under Ladder 
 Hill, stripped of all her sails and rigging as soon as possible, and 
 nothing but her bare " sticks" lett standing, for the twofold purpose 
 of preventing the gear from being stolen, and the vessel herself from 
 being cut out by some adventuresome devils, bold enough to play a 
 high game in the doctrine of chances ; and as there are generally 
 some of captured slave crews residing on the Island till they can 
 get a passage home, the precaution is not altogether unnecessary, 
 for the reckless characters and buccaneering propensities of these 
 men are pretty well known ; for those who think nothing of stealing 
 a man, or buying one that was stolen, will not think much of running 
 away with a ship, especiall}' one which they know to their cost, has 
 been taken from themselves, or some of their countrymen. 4||||^ 
 
 In addition to these vessels, are several water tanks, a kind of 
 hybred between a smack, and a minikin yacht ; these little vessels 
 serve to supply the shipping with water, and at the same time to 
 enliven the anchorage, by scudding to and fro among ttie vessels, 
 under all sorts of tacks and press of sail, sometimes running out a 
 considerable distance to sea to " fetch" a berth alongside some 
 inconveniently placed craft, or from the elTects of baffling winds and 
 " puffs" down the valleys, which have an obstinate tendency to drive 
 them anywhere but where they are wanted. 
 
 As there are generally some ships in the bay, it is kept so far from 
 the purgatory of intolerable dullness, by the constant passing in and 
 out of boats to and from the ships, some deeply laden with a merry 
 cargo of tars out on leave, going to enjoy themselves " up the town" 
 where they go to worship at the shrine of their adorable demirip 
 Bacchus, the jovial god of thirsty souls; others are laden with piles 
 of merchandize, a medley of miscellanies, from tallow candles made 
 of mutton fat from the Cape, to jars of pickles, bags of rice, and 
 boxes of some incomprehensible commodity known to little boys, and 
 thrifty men, as " mock maniila's," supposed to be cigars, sold at the 
 rate of three a penny in ** cheap shops," and two a penny in dear 
 ones ; tiie smoky stench of which vile compound, perfumes the whole 
 town, for they appear to be much in estimation among the " persons 
 of quality" frequenting the streets and byeways of the capital of 
 St. Helena. It would be a boon to the community, if some one 
 would reprint King Jamie's " Counterblast to Tobacco," and spread 
 it abroad to the utter extirpation of the ** Stygian weed ;" expel the 
 mock materials, and cheapen the real, for the benefit of the sworn 
 " brothers of the pipe," and all reasonable creatures who love to 
 '' blow a cloud' from the genuine weed, pure and fresh as the morn- 
 ing devv. 
 
GUIDE TO 8T. HELENA. 11 
 
 l^irt reirnons a nos moutont, and let us ^et oat cf our smoke and 
 lobarco into the blue waters of the boy, which are all alive with the 
 liobs, bounds, and comical circular lunges, of a school of creatures, 
 known to every body as PorpoJseg, but to the scientific ag Delphinis 
 Pelpkis, which is here given for the full benefit of all whom it may 
 concern ; the flying" fish in particular, who are always busy with 
 their wings, when these shiny backed eccentrics are rolling after 
 ihem in pursuit of a gentle dfjuner, or an early dinner, which they 
 often lose, in consequence of the llying fish taking fright and knock- 
 ing themselves to pieces on the rocks, to get out of the way of their 
 admirers, the porpoises, where thev are taken, ycry often stufied, 
 and sold for exportation, as curiosfties to anybody who will buy 
 Jhcm for that laudable purpose. 
 
 Besides these interesting inhabitants, the bay is frequently honored 
 ith the portly and pointed appearance of the Lantern Fish, a 
 gentlctnan as broad as he is long, and as round as a real Dutch 
 < hcese, only a little bigger ; he also is considered as a curiosity, ho 
 H not very useful that i am aware of, and certainly not very orna- 
 mental, unless it may be in the dusty case of some camphor scented 
 museum, devoted to the reception of unaccountable monstrosiitcs of 
 the plural order, such as this is ; like tiie captured flying fish, th« 
 jvoor W'eftliire has to undergo the misery of bein^: most shamefully 
 stuffed, hung up by the muuth to a nail on a door post, and offered 
 for gale to the highest and consequently the silliest bidder. What 
 may be tho peculiar function of these oddities, I cannot imagine, 
 unless it is that of being old hoyy to all the other fishes, as well as 
 to old women and children when stutied for exhibition ; for, in appear- 
 ance, it is enough to frighten anythit>g, what with its inlluted belly, 
 goggle eyes, and spiky jacket— and I have groat reason to believe 
 that it is entirely to the appearance of these fish fnghteners, that I 
 ever have the luck to catch anything when I am foolish enough to ^ 
 orsuade myself that I am " going out a fishing ;" for no sooner do I 
 :row in my hook, and get even the ghost of a nibble — then tijp ! up 
 tnes one of these fellows, and frightens all the fish oat of their 
 rises, otherwise they must have yielded to the irresistible attractions 
 : my beautiful bait, and liberal supply of mince \ this however, is a 
 oblem in natural history, which has yet to be solved, but as far as 
 ./ own opinion is concerned, I am fully persnaded of the truth of 
 e hypothesis, because 1 have proved to demonstration, by direct 
 \;je;iment, that something or other does really, truly, and literally 
 ..lighten all and every kind of fish from the hospitable eiitcrtainroeat 
 liberally offered to their admiring gaze whenever I may feel disposed 
 to scrape acouaintance w.th them — and what can 1 reasonably suspect 
 • having fnghtened them, but Lantern Jack, the ugliest fellow in 
 ..c sea, as well as he muSt spiked and thorny — it is however but an 
 i'yputhesis left open for public investigation. 
 
 But let us take a |>eep of as much of the Town as is visible from 
 I- sea, which is tho greatest part, and certainly the best of it, being 
 -arest to what is facetiously called the aristocratic portion of the city 
 the glen. Cast your eyes along tho low hnes of fortificationa, and 
 : will be aiJtonished at the apparition of pole«, ropes, cha u», ai^d 
 1 '... united to ctth other in brolheriv e!r."" • :c a 
 
12 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 rougrh but useful draw-])rirlge over tlie dilch, across which every one 
 bound to the town from tlie latidi.ig place has to trudge, perhaps not 
 without symptoms of alarm at the rents and cracks, and fissures in the 
 boards thereof, or the grim muzzles of the guns peeping in sullen 
 solemnity out of their embrazures. 
 
 Then the large black gate under the terrace opens up to view, 
 through the tremulous branches and glossy leaves of a stiiFand stately 
 row of banian trees. Above the gate, and over the trees, rises the 
 pointed spire of the church, looking from the distance as if it was 
 ensconced in the middle of a homely croft, with a snug parsonage 
 house at hand, which turns out to be, on closer inspection, the grand 
 hotel of the place, with its long array of windows and verandahs, 
 above whicli towers up even to the skirts of the clouds, nothing less 
 than a railway in the shape of a ladder, said to be modelled from one 
 used by the Cyclops in the erection of their incomprehensible build- 
 ings ; it puts every other specimen of railway engineering to the blush, 
 for it goes bolt up the rocks, next door to perpendicular, utterly re- 
 gardless of gradients and gravity, and lands you plump in a sentry box 
 on the top of the hill, tired in limb, sick at heart, and giddy in the 
 head, if unused to such an aerial ascension. 
 
 On the left of the valley is a cluster of trees, in the centre the 
 grand parade, and straight beyond them both, the streets runn||^ on 
 till it is lost in a projection of the rocks, as if it was entirely cut off 
 from all communication with the green hills and woody peaks, seen 
 far away in the distance, looming down in the mist, and close, and 
 clear, and bright, and bold, if not beautiful, in sunny days. 
 
 'J'hat long streak, like a scratch on the mountain side, is a road 
 winding up the country, under the chalk white house perched in a 
 little forest of fir, on the top of the furthest hill yonder, shining like 
 a gem in the mountain s brow, and making you ask in spite of your- 
 Iself, " how get ye there ?" And these long eccentric zigzags wriggling 
 up the other hill, like the folds and twists and bends of an exploded 
 *' fire bang" cracker, are roads, new, old, and deserted, leading up 
 to the batteries there, whose guns look plump down to your deck, open 
 mouthed, and grim, and terrible, as so many wher-woUes fierce with 
 famine, ready to j)ounce down upon you like the rush of an avalanche, 
 and sink your tiny craft deep down to the bottom of the sea. Did 
 you ever see such a town, su neat, and prim, and painted, so smart 
 with white or yellow walls, and green verandahs, placed in such a 
 deep and dismal rock hung valley, rent, a ravine as that, a doleful 
 cul-de-sac, from whence is no escape except by labour, toil and 
 climbing, till the head turns dizzy, in scaling of the jutting heights, 
 to sniff the country air, or look upon a decent patch of grass, or 
 smell the new mown hay, or take a self communing stroll, enjoy a 
 confab with a friend, if friend you have, without the tread-wheel 
 punishment of climbing up the rocky paths, both hot and hard, 
 and wearying. Yon lulls and peaks, and mountain tops, in all their 
 green array look tempting in the distance, but to reach them you 
 must trudge and plod, 
 
 *' Then slowly climb the many winding way, 
 And frequent turns to lingir as you go, 
 From loftier rocks new loveliness sUiVey," 
 
GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 13 
 
 ;f by any chance you can, before you feel the country wind, and 
 mist driving in your face, which do you must before you char, 
 
 "The horrid crag with toppling lattery crowncnJ, " 
 which frowns upon the town, and sea, amJ makes you pay a hea\y 
 toll in many a prunt and frronn, or heaity damn befoic you reach tie 
 {;oal of your joy expecting journey. 
 
 Look there too, at the Castle, rij:ht in front of the little town, 
 on an artificial terrace, to inc. ease iis height and make it look more 
 imposing — if that is possible, with what is an inijK»sition altogether, 
 for such it surely must be, to palm off such acia/y, weather shaken, 
 srec'imen of Dutch Barrack buiiclinir as a castle: but there it is in 
 all the glory of its whitewash, looking out r/on the sea, as formal 
 and old fashioned, as the big breeched men who built it must have 
 done, in all their amplitude of wig and doublet, when plodding on 
 the teria<*e to guard its sacred ])rccincts from intrusion. How beauti- 
 fully it blends with the Commissariat store, so neatly dovetailed into 
 one end of it, that it is scarcely possible to tell where one bcgm5, 
 and the other ends, so admirably is it contrived ; and that squat, 
 square, stumpy looking fabric, at the other end, pierced with one or 
 two round oj)er.ij;«rs, whicli might be mistaken lor port holes, or 
 embrjlturi s for <'( ath vomiting carronades, are more innocent than 
 they appear to be, for they are nothing more terrible than window* 
 to throw, a light into the kitchen, and enable the trusty cof V. to pry 
 into the very bottom of his pots and pjms, to see how all ^oes ou 
 wifhn. 
 
 Then there is another romantic building on the terrace, equally 
 vorthy of admiration, there is an air of mystciy about it, when 
 \icw( d from the distance ; it has a jiquare base, with a squere 
 buildirig on the top, something like a steeple, but it is not a steeple, 
 or like a stumpy minaret with top dtniclii^hcd, yet it is i;ot a minaret, 
 nor ever was one, or intended for one ; it is surmounted by a lung 
 slender pole, too big for a barbei's, yet hardly big enough for a 
 flag staff, it looks as if it was fixed in a bomb shell, to keep it 
 steady, but it has nothing so formidable for ballast ; there is the ball 
 to be sure, ma<le of ash and canvus, with a tiny rope to pull it up, 
 and a spring to drop it down at tw< he o'clock — for that ball is the 
 time ball, and that building is the time < ffice, where chronometers 
 may be adjusted, and wrong going watches set ri^'ht, if needs he; 
 which is seldom dt ne however, for time is brdly treated at St. 
 Helena, and punctuality unknown. 
 
 A little further on you nmy see a scnt.nel walking about among big 
 guns, and piles ol ^hot and shell, while above his head art roads 
 leading up to yonder battery, perched among the ro< ks plump over ll»€ 
 sea, built for the special amustmcnt of Governor Patten, who took 
 much delight in lioi^ting guns on liH tops, and making bnticriis vthere 
 they are ol but little use, or ever likely to be. He had a favorite gun 
 on this battery which he loved as the apple of his eye ; it was his 
 rlur cavvn, par cxceHrnce^ and mnch he loved to pat its biaztn 
 breech, and show it to bis friends, and all {:ood iionest people whMn 
 he could cajole there after dinner to look upon his open-muzzled pet, 
 and ndl about its ir.dipestib\e romrstiUtt vour s'amvser. 
 
 But if we stop lounpiig so long over tne manifold beauties of the 
 
14 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 <listaiit town, we shall never get round the thirty miles cirpumfer^nre 
 of the Island ; therefore, my worthy friends and readers, let us in tlu* 
 words of Dclamartine — " Marche au flambeau de I'esperanc* ;" which 
 however, in our case, will be diflBcult to do, because it is a difficult 
 matter to get possession of such a wonderful flambeau ; and secondly, 
 because there is no road round the Island whereon to march, except it 
 be on the silent highway of the sea, in an open boat, which may be 
 easily accomplished with a little perseverance ; — and therefore in a 
 boat we go. 
 
 Here it is, with stern and stem alike, a light and bouyant whale 
 boat, manned by four stout lads, as brown as berries and strong as 
 horses, this day, *' to do their duty," upon being duly paid, and 
 promptly fed, with now and then a glass of good Cape wine to cheer 
 
 them up, warm their hearts, and make them wish for brandy, to 
 
 set loose their tongues, and make them sing a cheerful ditty as they 
 go, for like their brethren of Venice 
 
 " Silent rows the songless gondolier,*' 
 
 unless you bribe them with a scudi or marvedi. or a drop of eau de vi® 
 to tune them up to concert pitch. So " row, brothers row," and le^ 
 us be going 
 
 " O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, 
 Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, 
 Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, 
 Survey our empire, and behold our home !" 
 
 So push off, steer clear of that buoy bobbing up and down there, and 
 don't run foul of the cable That black vessel you see there is an 
 hospital ship for the accommodation of sick niggers, when the other 
 hospiuils aie full, after a glut of them have arrived in a prize, and 
 escaped the horrors of the *' middle passage" — here is a fine theuje 
 fv^r tlie comnaenceraent of a new sentimental journey. But look at 
 the rocks, and see how they run up in layers one above the other, as 
 rough and ugly as can well be conceived, utterly barren, except here 
 and there a stray patch of samphire peeps out from behind some 
 cracked and shattered clifF, where it can take root in half an inch of 
 soil in the fissures 
 
 On the top of these rocks are batteries, cook houses, store rooms, 
 and other et ceteras of a garrison, and from these perpendicular cl ill's 
 under that wall, more than one unfortunate soldier has broken his 
 neck in attempting to take french leave, and go gallivanting or wine 
 bibbing in the town after hours. 
 
 That low ledge of lava against which the sea is fretting and chaBng, 
 leads to a little cove under the perpendicular rocks, with a shingly 
 beach, which is what may be called the bathing place of the town, 
 which is none of the best, for the shingles are not very pleasant to 
 walk upon, and the loose rocks scattered about are both hard and 
 sharp, and will give a bather many a scratch and bump unless he 
 keeps a sharp look out. There is a great lump of a rock in the middle 
 of the cove, a few feet above the water, on which the surf boils and 
 loams with great fury when the sea is at all rough, or heavy rollers 
 come thundering in, and leaves you high and dry on the shingles, 
 unless you are active in your movements. Immediately over this cove 
 
r.riDE TO ST. HRLKNA. 15 
 
 tlie rocks are perpendicular, and run up to a great iielght, from which 
 it is i.ot an uiicomnion thing to be saluted with a stray stune disturbed 
 V the pigeons, or swept down by the wind. 
 
 Among the low rocks to the east of these coves arc several lUt'e 
 ponds, and one arched over by a natural bridge, through the opening 
 of which the sea boils in with great fury, and as in the lapse of t.me 
 it has undermined the sides of the whole of the pond, there is great 
 I isle of being drawn under by the recession of the water, when the 
 s oa is rough, and getting more blows and bruiRes than is pleasant either 
 to suffer or think of; in a calm sea there if no danger, but when it is 
 rough it is best to keep on the rocks and leave the bathing alone. 
 
 The low ledge of rocks, which are f»agment» of lava cemented 
 together by a natural deposit from the sea, winds along the shore 
 in variable width, nearly ail the way round the Island, except where 
 broken by bays, and a few little coves, or excavations in the face of 
 the coast, worn out by the action* of the sea, where the low ledge has 
 been completely destroyed and washed away. 
 
 The first valley we pass on leaving the roadstead, is called Break- 
 neck, appropriately enough, for it is deep, rugged, and full of 
 boulders and fragments of shattered rocks, which have been pre- 
 cipitated from the lofty hills, forming its iron boundaries. 
 
 Near this place, is a projecting ledge of rock, jutting into the sea, 
 called Ilick's Hall, which is a favorite fishing station for such of the 
 a habitants of the Town as are fond of that sport — if sport it can be 
 Med ; under the hill is a deep excavation, high and dry above the 
 s Iter, which is often used a? an open air dormitory by parties who 
 find amusement in spending the night on the rocks now and then, 
 when disposed to indulge in an extra dose of piscatorial recreation ; 
 and what is more, it has been used as a quarantine station, where 
 luckless sailors have been compelled to pass their monotonous time 
 as best they could, in catching "jacks" and ** old wives," counting 
 the stars, drinking grog when they could get it, or enjoying their 
 pipes under the lee of a friendly rock, casting many a wistful look at 
 the ships riding at anchor in the bay. The next valley is Young's, 
 which like the last, is w.ld, steep, and acdivitous, without havmg 
 anything in it near the coast sufficiently attractive to need particular 
 notice, which, however, is not the case with Friars Valley, which 
 immediately follows it in our route This valley is so called from a 
 rather singular rock perched on the summit c.f the ridge, which 
 stands in a measure by itself, as if keeping watch and ward over the 
 neighbouring hills and ravines ; the whole of this ridge appears to be 
 basaltic, and is one of the wildest and most striking in the Island, 
 not so much from its extent, as from the singular fragmentary nature 
 of its rocky broken ridge, which appears as if it had been s-hattered 
 and split across in many places by some violent action of nature ; it 
 is lofty and narrow, full of rugged projecting pt^aks, shallow caves, 
 renti, and fissures, which nfivcs it a wild and picturesque appearance. 
 '" terminates at the sea like the section of an irre^'ular cone, a« if 
 
 e half of the mountain hnd tumbled down bodily into the surl* 
 oerieath, and left the remainder standing almost perpendicular. 
 
 The wild appoaraacc of the sea face is further increased by a red 
 atragglirtg hand of consolidated saud, sloping down towards the sea, 
 so that Lbe summit appears tu rest on an itisf^cure base, and raises tbo 
 
16 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 idoa that sliould this friable sand be washed away by floods and 
 storms, it must evimtiially full like an avalanche thundering to the 
 bottom, carrying? everything before it. 
 
 The entrance to the valley from the sea, is blocked up by the 
 remains of a wall, and a mass of rocks fallen from the precipice 
 above, over wirich, a little stream runs trickling down to join the sea, 
 but in the rainy s^'ason, or in time of fluods, the accumulated waters 
 come boiling and biibbling among the rocks in a perfect torrent, 
 leaving little or nothing behind them in their course, but the naked 
 rock over which they rush. 
 
 There are one or two little cottages high up the valley, at the base 
 of the hills, ensconsed in a grove of plantain, and fruit trees, which 
 is all that relieves the eye from the naked rocks and barren slopes of 
 tjie precipitous hills which enclose it, except perhaps a few cattle 
 cropping the precarious herbage, occasionally seen in the bed of the 
 rocky stream. 
 
 The whole coast about the opening of this valley, is strewed with 
 rocks and boulders which have fallen from the cliffs, and a little to 
 the westward, is the entrance to a cave — and what is more, a haunted 
 one, as two old women, and a still older man, assured me in a state 
 of surprise, when I told them of my intention to explore it. 
 
 T had been given to understand, that the cave was of nqxt to 
 infinite depth and dimensions, and that it had been penetrated so far 
 that it was found impossible to go any further, for the sea, which 
 was heard rolling and lashing itself in great fury at its furthermost 
 extremity. All this sounded well, and held out hopes of an adven- 
 ture of romantic interest, which was farther increased by being told 
 that years ago, old wives — not old women— but fish, used to be 
 caught in the cave. All due preparations being made, — in the 
 shape of putting a candle into a lantern to throw a light on the 
 subject, in company with a friend, I sallied forth on the expedition, 
 and after climbing over a heap of rocks and boulders, reached the 
 mouth of the cave, which is tolerably capacious, and appears to be 
 hollowed out of a mass of lava, which has been shattered by the 
 combined force of the sea and the pressure above, for much of 
 the mouth is now in a broken condition, and threatens to fall at no 
 very remote period. 
 
 Upon entering its yawning mouth, we found ourselves on a little 
 patch of sand, mixed with fragments of shells, filling up a hollow 
 in the floor of the cavern, which is in the whole as rough and 
 irregular as could be expected. On penetrating a few feet it grew 
 rapidly dark, whereupon the candle was lighted, which however, 
 only served to make the "darkness visible," or as Bentley would 
 have it, to show 
 
 " No light, but rather a transpicuous gloom,'' 
 
 and render our footing anything but safe among the rugged points, 
 and broken surface of the floor, which shelved rapidly downward 
 as if it was going to lead us headlong to the infernal regions ; and 
 while in expectation of hearing a triple growl from Cerbeius, a 
 dismal splashing sound fell upon the ears, and made the welkin 
 ring again. To throw a further light on the matter, and be able 
 to pick our way the easier, a gunny bag was put on a stick by way of 
 
GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 17 
 
 makuig a flambeau, and set on fire, and by its ruddy glare, we 
 gruped on till we came to the edge of the foaming waters, at the 
 extremity of the cave, which we boun found to ho the sea rushing m, 
 and out again through a fissure in the rock, a little below the water 
 line of the coast — and thus thu adventure ended, as so many have 
 done bcfoie it, in nothing. 
 
 It is only a hundred yards or so in depth, and about half that in 
 breadth, the lni^ht not exceeding twenty feet in any part as far as 
 we penetrated ; we made no attempt to cross the water, but left this 
 feat to be performed by others more interested in these subterranean 
 matters, bcirnr satisfied with looking over the water at the rocks, 
 which stop all further advance. 
 
 Immediately facing the mouth of the cave, in a straight line, are 
 indications oi lliere having been a passage in that direction, which is 
 now however entirely blocked up by rocks, said to have been thrown 
 there by the action of the surf; it was in this now closed part of the 
 cave, that old wives used to be fished out in formi r times. 
 
 The lower part of the floor of this cavern, cons.sts of limestone, 
 but whether it is a bed of that useful material, or only a coating 
 deposited by the sea, as on other places, was not ascertained, because 
 in either case it is not worth the trouble of working. As for the 
 ghosts, goblins, or spirits, supposed to have taken up their abode 
 there, as certified unto by the two old women and the old man, 
 nothing was seen of them, not even a grunt, or groan, or scream 
 was heard to throw an air of romantic aw fulness over the adventure. 
 The only apparition we encountered, was that of the two old women, 
 whom we found at the mouth of the cave on our return, drawn there 
 by the insatiable curicsity said to be natural to their sex, anxious, no 
 doubt, to ascertain the fate of the poor old man whom we had cruelly 
 seduced into the cave, in spite of his assertion that it was haunted 
 with all kind of unnatural tlunps ; to him we entrusted the flambeau, 
 which ho flouris-hcd about in a style peculiar to i imself, no doubt 
 being cognizant of the fact, that fire and flame are capital things to 
 frighter wild beasts away, C5ftinguish ghosts, put a stopper on goblins 
 of all descriptions, and send the mermaids down to the bottom of 
 the vasty deep, to save their beautiful hair from being singed, and 
 thrivelled by a spluttering spark, or a stray flame from the blazing 
 flambeau. 
 
 Proceeding eastward from this cave, on turning the projecting 
 comer of a straggling ledge of rtck, we come to Lemon Valley, a. 
 small and picturesque spot, bounded as it is on all sides with lofty hills, 
 and rugged shores, covered with huge rocks and boulders, whi( h have 
 been torn fr. in the precipices ovcrlianging and shadowing the waters 
 of the buy. Theie is an interesting wildness about this place, which 
 powerfully induces you to ramble among its rocks, and clamber up 
 iti various liillb ; lor ti cir boldness of outline, loft ness of height, 
 and rugged s^urluces, combined with their variety of colour, and 
 efliects of li^hi and hhade, produce a scene of wild disoideied beauty 
 that is highly attractive, and sets the iinat^inatiou to work to fill its 
 deep recesses with visionary beings, as rugped aiid romantic as itself. 
 
 The little bay in which the valley terminates, is formed by two 
 
 . :ntain* jutting into the sea, out ot which lh»*y nse abruptly and 
 a (freat he.ght, beiu^ furwcd oi alternate beds ot lava 
 
IS GXTIDR TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 and Tolcanic scorice, with here and there a straggling line or belt of 
 indurated sand, crushed and tortured as it were to follow the varying 
 bends of the lava masses piled above it, in thick irregular layers 
 which are broken into rents and fissures, as if by some violent convul- 
 sion of nature. 
 
 A ledge of rock runs along the margin of the bay, immediately 
 under the clitf, which is raised a few feet above the sea, and on 
 which the surf breaks with great fury when the sea is up, and rollers 
 come sweeping in over its rocky and irregular bed. 
 
 The ledge which forms the land ng place, is strewed over with vast 
 masses of rock, many of them placed in picturesque positions, which 
 rear their heavy heads high above the surf and toam fretting at their 
 base ; they are masses detached from the almost perpendicular face 
 ot the clitfs, and add much to the general wildness of the shore. 
 
 A line of fortified works closes the entrance into the valley, except 
 by a step ladder which is approached by traversing the rocky ledge 
 forming the western boundary of the bay ; the walls are lofty, and 
 pierced with embrasures, through which the open mouths of a few 
 heavy guns show themselves, as if placed there to stop intruders. It 
 would be altogether wild and savage, were it not for the softening 
 inlluence of the green leaves of the plantain which are seen growing 
 in clusters in the ditch under the walls, and reaching up almost to 
 the mouths of the guns, while above them, scattered and irregular 
 groups of trees join in to fill the void of utter nakedness, and add a 
 pleasing contrast to the sun scorched lichen, moss, and scanty soil, 
 forming a motley patchwork among the rocks and boulders of the 
 general landscape. Viewed from the sea, where all the scene can 
 be embraced by the eye, including the lofty ranges forming the valley, 
 as they curve inwards, till it is blocked up by the irregular face of 
 Peak Point, a conical mountain which springs up abruptly, and 
 divides the valley into two deep ravines, which lose themselves 
 among the heights in the distance — is bold and effective, and forms 
 on the whole, as fine a bit of scenery, though limited in its range, as 
 any on the coast, especially on a day with alternate changes of cloud 
 and sunshine, or still better when under the influence of a storm. 
 On ascending the wooden ladder that gives access to the valley, we 
 tbund ourselves hemmed in on one side by masses of rock, and on the 
 other the line of fortifications, with its neatly paved platforms, guns, 
 barracks, and store rooms, for the accommodation of the few men 
 holding watch and ward over the military works, who have little else 
 to do than to make themselves as cosy as they can, enjoy their pipes, 
 and kill time in the most approved military fashion. 
 
 The length of the valley, as far at least as Peak Point, may be 
 soon traversed, for it is not of any great extent, unless we include 
 the two ravines, into which it is divided by the lofty peak above named, 
 at which point walking may be said to cease, and climbing to com- 
 mence, for the ascent of these ravines are \ery steep, and not a little 
 fatiguing to those unused to mountaineering. The valley itself is 
 singularly picturesque, for it is very narrow, and cooped up by its 
 locky boundaries to such an extent, that a stranger would be disposed 
 t> believe it is scarcely possible to get out of it in any way without 
 ruanivig the risk of breaking his neck, without the aid of some one 
 familiar with ail its ins and outs and sinuous paths. 
 
GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 I'J 
 
 one or two ruii.oua cottuges near liie miiiUlc of ll»c vu. » > , 
 jd in the midst of what once have been Ibiiving gardens, w: k ii 
 now, however, totally i;cgleclrd, run wild, and choked up w/ili 
 weeds and shrubs, the boundary walls of which are lined round with 
 formidable hedges of the prickly peur, from aniongst which gevtral 
 tine tig trees show their glossy loaves, uiid di.-play their luscious fru::, 
 as if to shew what could be done in such a ! lace with a little care ai.d 
 cultivation. 
 
 Scattered about, amongst these huts and cottages, and labyrinth 
 of walls, are numbers of huge stones and boulders, which rear thf.r 
 heads high above the debris cf the fallen rocks strewn about the 
 valley, weather beaten and gr<y with moss and lichen, which adds 
 much to its romantic appearance, ui.d forms a striking feature in t^c 
 landscape. 
 
 There are one or two cottages inclosed in little gardens, wh oh are 
 more or less cultivated, while at the extreme end of the valley is a 
 little lorcst of plantains, with here and there a fruit tree peeping from 
 their broad green leaves, and under the lee of a bank of rocks. Nearly 
 hidden from view by the plantains are a tew sickly orange and lem^ ii 
 trees, struggling for existence and perishing from neglect, where once 
 they threw their pleasant veidure over the land, and enlivened the 
 scene bv their profusion of flowers and display of golden fruit nodding 
 in the breeze. The silence of the place is pleasingly broken by the 
 babbliftg of a little stream, which has been directed into a variety of 
 channels for the sake of irrigating the ground, and which cooies 
 dancing down from the upper valley among a pile of rocks and stones, 
 over which it tumbles in little cascades, nearly hidden from sight by 
 weeds and shrubs, through which it works its way to the trenches 
 prepared to receive it, after which it uuites in one stream, and runs 
 in a serpentine course through the valley, bumpirg and thumping 
 among the rocks, till it tinally escapes among the shingles on the 
 beach, and loses itself in the waters of the bay. 
 
 Some years ago this valley was the station of the Liberated African 
 Establishment, tor which it is very well adapted, being secludtd, 
 easily guarded, and well supplied with water, an advantage which the 
 valley where the present establishment is maintained cannot boa?t. 
 The little gai-den and forest of plantains to which we have just betn 
 introduced, was the work of the surgeon of the establishment, who 
 rescued it from the naked wilderness, and by the union of skill and 
 enterprise, had the satisfaction of seeing a thriving garden spring up 
 around him, conquering the difiBculties of the place, and proving wba: 
 may be done by sustained and well directed energy — an example of 
 industry, and a practical lesson, which might be advantageously fol- 
 lowed by the landowners of the Island. 
 
 The piles of shattered lava and basalt scattered about the valley, 
 little patches of green swar.l, confused lines of broken walls, huge 
 boulders and rocky masses, wild and irregular clumps of prickly pear, 
 ruined cottages and little huts, with busy groups at the doors, babbling 
 of the waters, the occasional crowing of a cock and bark of a dog, 
 noisy children at play in their narrow bounds, groups of ducks and 
 geese dabbling in the water, bleating of the goats on the clifFi, cheer- 
 ful song of the wild canaries and cooing of the doves, joined to the 
 effect of light and shade, changing and varying every hour of the day, 
 
20 GLIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 with the lofty height and rugged outline of the bounding hillg, the 
 murmuring of the sea on the shingly beach, general wildnes* of the 
 place, and variety of sights and sounds which greet the eye and ear, 
 combine to produce an ciFect as striking to the imagination as it is pre- 
 vocative to emotion in the heart, which sympathizes with the working 
 of the mind, as the ear drinks in the confused sounds, and the eye 
 wanders with unsteady gaze from point to point, by mysterious agency, 
 stamping the varied scenes in vivid semblance upon the tabula rasa of 
 the faithful memory. 
 
CHAP'ILK I|j 
 
 VrUICU KX£PS THC PANORAMA lCOV:> 
 
 Aflrtr pausing a while at Leraon Valley for the purpose of refrexb- 
 ing our boatmen, we once more put to sea in < ur trail craft, and con-, 
 liuue the voyape, hoisting a bit ol a sail to help us on our tardj way, 
 if there should happen to be ar.y wind to rufHe the water, fill the 
 mil, and spank us on to our next ubidinpr plHce. If there should not 
 be any wind, which is not an unusual case, in consequence of being 
 under the lee of the lofty clift's, we must set all hands to the oars, and 
 pull with might and main to keep us going along the .'hore, to enable 
 us to see all that is to be seen, and jot it down con amove on our spot- 
 less tablets, there to fructify ai d ripen for the j»rinter iii.d his devilg. 
 Rocks, Rocks ! nothing but a long interminable line of rocks as far as 
 the eye can reach, as like one another as two halfpence, barren, brown, 
 rugged, and steep, with here and there a sloping ledge, jutting out 
 from the wall-like face of the clifts, as if for no other purpose than to 
 jtffbrd scanty nourishment to a sickly bush or two of stunted samphire. 
 The shore on this part of the coast is very limited, being nothing 
 more than ledges raised a fesv feet above the level ot the sea, which in 
 some places project a few yards from the bottom of the chtis, and ar© 
 covered over with vast masses of rock, and splintery fragments which 
 have fallen from the heights above, and lie in confused and shapeless 
 heaps on the face of the ledge, wild, weather-beaten, and washed by 
 the foam and spray from the breakers, tretting and chafing among th« 
 points and fissures of the rocky base on which they rest. 
 
 Some of these ledges are used bj the Islanders as fishing stations, 
 who gain access to them by descending the giddy heights aloug sinuous 
 tracks barely wide enough for the feet, leadu.g among the <rags and 
 gullies on the face ot the almost perpendicular clifis, which are of 
 great height, and as seen trom the st-a, appear wholly inaccessible to 
 anything but guats or wild pigeons, the former of which may some- 
 times be seen like tiiore specks, uioving along the various shelves and 
 occasional slopes of the sea-washed precipices. 
 
 Soon alter leaving Lemon Valley, a line of foam is seen stretching 
 out from the shore, which is occasioned by the sea breaking over an 
 irregular reef <>lmo^t on a level with the water, whith is known as 
 Long Ledt/ey and is v.siblo from the wharf in James' Town, in rough 
 weather when the sea is high, which occasions a continuous surf to 
 break among the rucks, and cover the place with foam for many yards 
 round. 
 
 In calm weather this position of the ledge may be distinguished at 
 
 a distance, by the diflcrent shade of the water, occasiuned by u ripple 
 
 running over the shallows immediately above and around the rockt, 
 
 ■■.ti course of which may be easily traced bj this means, at ships 
 
 . rer keep very dose m shgre, when making- lor Jamet Town m ti;« 
 
22 GUIDE TO ST. BELfiNA. 
 
 direction, there it) \ery little danger to be apprehended, as they are 
 almost under the Bhadow of the cliiFs, and their position being well 
 known to the fishennen frequenting this part of the coast in pursuit of 
 their calling, ihere is little fear of their striking upon them even in 
 the darkest night. 
 
 A little to the westward of this ledge, and close in shore, is a small 
 conical rock rising out of the sea, which for some reason or other has 
 been christened the Lion, certainly not from any fancied resemblance 
 in shape to the King of the Forest, for the most brilliant imagination 
 ■would find it a diflScult matter to twist it into anything but what it 
 really is, a mere lumpish rock with nothing of interest attached to it, 
 not even a story or a legend, which is the case with one or two name- 
 less rocks we have passed in our cruise without noticing. The great 
 bluff headland running down to the sea immediately in the line of 
 our course is Horse Pasture Pointy the last one visible from the 
 wharf at James' Town, from which place it has a bold and rugged ap- 
 pearance, which it does not belie on close inspection, for it is of great 
 altitude, very steep, and diversified with layers of lava rock, thick beds 
 of hard compact sand, and a coarse clinkeiy conglomerate alternating 
 with each other in broad irregular masses, which strike the eye, and 
 forcibly arrest attention while passing round its rocky base. 
 
 The whole coast hereabouts is steep and perpendicular, like a wall, 
 accessible with diflSculty only in one or two points, where the paths 
 are little better than goat tracks, and wind among the projecting 
 rocks and boulders on the face of the cliff, with scarcely breadth 
 enough to admit of an easy passage, or give good footing to any but 
 those used to mountaneering and climbing in perilous places. 
 
 The summit of these cliffs are rugged, and broken into ravines and 
 gullies, from which all the soil has been long since washed away by 
 the rains, which, in some places, many feet below the top, appears 
 to have been caught by a projecting ledge, where the soil has 
 accumulated to a limited extent in irregular sloping banks, which are 
 the only spots where anything in the shape of verdure can be seen, 
 along the whole extent of the coast, from Lemon Valley to Horse 
 Pasture Point ; and these are only dotted here and there with a few 
 miserably stunted bushes of samphire, or little clumps of shrivelled 
 rush grass, dry and parched for want of moisture in the sun-baked 
 soil, where they seem struggling for existence against all the lawg of 
 nature. 
 
 Passing round the point, a shapeless rock is soon perceived, rising 
 from the blue waters of the sea, a few feet from the base of the 
 cliifs, from which it appears to have been separated at some remote 
 time, and is probably the remains of a larger mass, reduced by the 
 action of the surf, which continually frets round it, to ijs present size 
 and shape. It is known as the Lighter, but for what reason it has 
 obtained this name I have not been able to learn, nor is there any 
 legend or tradition to give it an interest, so we will leave it alone in 
 its glory, and pass on to the deep gorge, whose yawning mouth and 
 rocky flanks open upon us in sullen grandeur further up the coast, 
 and which is called by the unmusical name of Dry Gutt, possibly 
 from its parched appearance and utter absence of water, except in 
 time of fluodi, vrhen its ainuous channel becomes converted iato a 
 
iin torrent of prreat rapidity, which boi!s and foaros among tt« 
 stony ledges till it finally tumbles over a bank of lava, and loses itself 
 in the sea. 
 
 We are now opposite another great bluflf, jutting into the sea, 
 known as Bennett's Point, which forms one of the terminating 
 boundaries of Swanley Valley, memorable in the history of St. 
 Helena, as being the place where the Dutch cti'ected a landing from 
 their ships when they captured the Island 1672. They landed on the 
 beach in the little bay into which the valley opens, and scrambled op 
 
 • s pathless slopes till they reached the open ground in the interior 
 t' the country. They are said to have been guided to this landing 
 
 place by means of a fire lighted on the summit of the rocky point, 
 by a planter called Bennett, from whom the place has taken its 
 name ; this however, is a disputed point, and no reason has been 
 alleged why he should have turned traitor on this occasion, nor any 
 proofs given that he ever had any communication with the Dutch 
 previous to their hostile appearance off the Island. The valley is 
 deep and narrow, very rugged, and not ascended without much toil 
 and climbing ; it is surrounded on all sides with lofty mountains, which 
 tower np high above the summit of the precipitous heights, in which 
 it is bedded, and viewed from the sea, forms a striking feature in the 
 landscape, as the tops of the hills in the middle of the Island are 
 visible, and add much to the variety of the scene, which, taken 
 altogether, is a perfect wilderness of ravines, rocks, and hills, rescued 
 from utter barrenness by the grassy slopes, and fir clumps, seen on the 
 heads of the inland mountains, which run gradually up from the 
 upper end of the valley. 
 
 Jutting into the sea, a few yards from the base of the lofty point 
 which overhangs it, is a long broken irregular ledge, out of which 
 rises a rude conical rock, son)e twenty or thirty feet in height, sur- 
 mounted by a stone or boulder which has received the name of the 
 Ladies Chair, from some fancied resemblance, which, it is supposed, 
 to bear to that useful article. The little bay in front of this valley is 
 pretty deeply recessed, and encompassed by the clifls which form it, 
 and in r. ugh weather it is a difficult matter to land, as the bottom is 
 strewed over with loose detached rocks, and rapidly shallows, so that 
 a heavy sea is always breaking on the shingle of the little beach, 
 foaming among the rocks, and washing over the straggling ledges at 
 the foot of the line of headlands, which enclose and throw their 
 shadows over it. 
 
 This bay is separated from another a little distance from it, by a 
 lofty ridge which ends abruptly in the sea, into which it projects, and 
 shows on its lace a lofty mass of lava, blending with thick beds of 
 
 * ard volcanic clinkers, and layers of red ferruginous sand; it has a 
 ' w lateral slopes and picturesque crags which spring boldly out from 
 .:3 general surface wilh great effect. 
 
 The valley which now opens upun us is very like the last in general 
 appearance, and would have little or nothing to attract attention, were 
 it not for the pile of hills which tower up far above it in nicturesque 
 grandeur, and leads us to wonder why ^uch a wilderness snould have 
 been called ** Old Woman's Valley." for when taken in connection 
 With the general features of the scenery anund, it is as wild and 
 ramantir as any on the toast. 
 
24 GLIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 There is much in a name, it might have had one indicative of its 
 most prominent features; but the fi^-st English inhabitants of the 
 Island appear to have delighted themselves by inventing the most 
 unmeaning thoy couItJ possibly hit upon, and bestowing them too fre- 
 quently on the most picturesque and beautiful spots in the place, 
 much to the disfigurement of its maps and itineries, which are retained 
 to this day in all the fullness of their absur I irrelevancy 
 
 Straight before us two Islands rise into sight, abruptly from the sea, 
 not very large, yet striking in their appearance. The nearest one is 
 the largest, and the most picturesque, being crowned with batteries 
 and other buildings which occupy its summit, and look like the ruins 
 ol an old castle of the feudal times - a sort of Ischia on a small scale, 
 or a turret crowned rock from the Rhine, shorn of its fair proportions. 
 It is known as hgg Island, which name was no doubt bestowed upon 
 it, in the olden times, in consequence of its being a depository for 
 the eggs of hundreds of sea birds, which occupy the crannies and 
 projections of its overhanging sides, where they breed and pass their 
 lives in tolerable security, being seldom disturbed except by a stray 
 sportsman, who may salute them with a few shots from his gun, while 
 rowing past the Island on a fishing trip to some of the neighbouring 
 ledges — for on these excursions a gun is ofien taken on the chance of 
 meeting with pigeons, men of war, or tropics, which frequent the 
 coast in this direction 
 
 The Island is placed in a shallow bay, a few hundred yards from 
 the shore, to which it is partially connected by a broken irregular 
 reef, over which a heavy surf is generally breaking. 
 
 The whole of its mass is made up of lava and clinker, the surface 
 being generally strewed over with loose chips and fragments of rock, 
 scattered about in thick irregular heaps on the sloping shelves, and 
 ledges of the various strata which constitute the principal part of the 
 Island. It appears to be identical with the vast beds and streams of 
 lava seen on the face of the cliffs of the mainland, from which it may- 
 have been separated by the action of the sea during the lapse of ages, 
 as is pretty well indicated by the existence of the line of sunken rock 
 which connects it with the ledges jutting out from the base of the 
 cliffs on shore. 
 
 It rises to a considerable altitude, though not near so lofty as the 
 neighbouring hills on the mainland, which completely command, over- 
 look, and cover it with their shadows, in the early part of the 
 morning. 
 
 There are but two accessible landing places, one of which is a 
 gpntle slope of rock rising gradually from the sea, where it is diflBcult 
 '*<> get a footing unless the sea is calm, as the surf, in anything like 
 rough weather, rushes up it with great fury, and gives rise to a danger- 
 ous "draw" on the recoil of tne water, which on more than one 
 occasion has proved fatal to parties attempting to gain a footing here. 
 
 The other is nearer the shore, and is formed by a projecting ledge 
 raised a few feet above the general level of the sea, which may be 
 easily reached from a boat when the water is smooth, but it is a diffi- 
 cult operation at other times, as there is a great rise and fall occasioned 
 by the flux and reflux of the waves striking and rebounding from it. 
 
 As there is generally a heavy swell setting round this par t of the 
 coast, the sea at these landing places is more frequently rough than 
 
1 
 
 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 )th, but even in a very boisterous sea a landing may be effecte<l 
 by watrhinir a favorable luM, or steady rise in the surf. As this little 
 Island is a favorite place for what may be called nautical picnicks, and 
 sometimes for fishing parties, we will land as best we can, scramble 
 up to the batteries on the top, and take a look round by way of ex- 
 ploration ; so bark water my lads, steady the boat, and as the sea 
 gives her a lift, step over the hows on to the rock, and seize that old 
 crow bar stuck on end there for the purpose of helping us up, till we 
 get a good footing on the ledge, and then all will be right, and safe, 
 and sound. The next operation is to scramble up an old weather- 
 beaten step ladder, which stands bolt upright against a rugged wall of 
 rock, from whence you pass along the rounds of a common ladder 
 sloping over a deep hole, down which you might break your neck if 
 you had the misfortune to fall, therefore hold on hard and fast till you 
 reach the end of the ladder, and land at the bottom of what might 
 once have been a decent road, but which is now in a awfully dilap- 
 idated state, covered with rocks and stones, and not particularly 
 comforting to tender feet. The roads runs up with many sharp turns 
 and bends, a complete zigzag, along the edge of the rock, being made 
 with deep retnining walh, under and above which you pass as you 
 wind and climb along the broken road, till you find yourself lodged in 
 a narrow path on the solid lava, which leads directly up to a gateway 
 with a cracked arch, which threatens to tumble upon you while pass- 
 ing under it, and knock you into the sea from the crag on which it is 
 built. This gate gives access to a little square, scooped out of the 
 solid rock, in which are one or two roofless buddings which once wer« 
 barracks, magazines, and cooking houses, but are now the resort of a 
 few birds who roost on these blanched beams when they pay the 
 Island a visit from the mainland. From these we pass on to a circular 
 battery armed with one or two guns and carronades, not the worse 
 for wear — but the want of wear ; the guns are red with rust, the 
 carriages in anything but working condition, and the walls of the bat- 
 tery crying aloud for mortar and mason-craft. From this battery a 
 loose and stone-strewed path leads down a little sloping ridge to 
 another battery facing the sea, first cousin to the last in appearance, 
 but in a little better condition, though not by any means in good work- 
 ing trim. 
 
 And hero be it known to all good people, naturals or naturalists, 
 that on my last visit 1 had the unutterable pleasure of capturing two 
 juvenile wire birds, after a severe chase, round the battery, under the 
 guns, and in all the crooks and corners of the place, for although they 
 had not attained to the use of their wings, they thoroughly understood 
 the mystery of leg-bail, for they ran flitting about like so many spirits, 
 and defied all attempts at capture, till the bright idea occurred of pop- 
 ping my old wide-awake hat over them as they tried to dodge between 
 my legs. They were too young to keep, besides which no one seemed 
 to know on what to feed them ; therefore I let them go, and down the 
 hill they went at a spanking pace over rocks and stones, till they dis- 
 appeared fioin view in a gully on the face of the Island. These birds 
 are considered to bo indigenous to St. Helena, but what brought them 
 to the little isolated and utterly barren rock on which I found them, it 
 is impo»«ible to say, unless the old hou had llittrd over from the main- 
 land to hatch her Qggtf and rear her brood in safety among the rums 
 
26 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 of Egg Island, a place appropriate enough in name for such a purpose. 
 
 The whole surface of this place is of a glaring white colour as if it 
 liad been dusted over with lime or flour, which is anything but pleasing 
 to weak eyes on a sunny day ; this appearance is produced by* the 
 droppings of the innumeral)lo sea birds which haunt the cliiVs on its 
 southern extremity, where the guano may be seen all over the rocks, 
 but not in any great thickness, where it drops down ovor the little 
 overhanging ledges on which the birds roost, like so many frosted 
 icicles or clusters of diminutive stalactites in a limestone cavern. 
 
 The batteries on this liftlo Island were erected to command the bay, 
 and approaches to Old Woman and Swanley Valley, to prevent a repe- 
 tition of the Dutchmen's exploit, and guard against any future attempt 
 of the kind, but they have long since been abandoned, as they would 
 not be of any very effective use in case of an attack or attempt of an 
 hostile force, to make good a landing in either of the above-named 
 valleys ; many years ago the Island was used as a kind of penal setile- 
 ment for disorderly women, but it was not of long duration ; nor has it 
 been occupied by troops for a number of years, as the place is incon- 
 venient from want of water, and consequently too expensive to main- 
 tain a guard there merely to occupy the buildings, where it is not 
 likelv to be of use once in a century. The summit of the Island com- 
 mand a very line view of the romantic valleys and mountains in front 
 of it, with glimpses of the range of inland hills, and the coast stretch- 
 ing from Horse Pasture Point to West Pointy with all its little coves 
 and bays, rocks and ledges, scattered along the face of the cliffs. 
 
 Having now seen all the wonders and curiosities of Egg Island, we 
 will descend to the boats, and run over the little strait which separates 
 it from its brother or sister rock, known by the natives of St. Helena 
 as Peaked Island. This is a mere rock, but a very rugged one, and 
 perhaps as curious as it is rugged, being in fact little better in appear- 
 ance than a huge volcanic clinker of a dingy rod colour and very irre- 
 gular form, without a patch of vegetation of any kind to relieve its 
 utter nakedness and sterility. 
 
 The landing place, or at least the easiest one, is a rock which pro- 
 jects a few feet from the ledge which runs out from the Island some 
 one or two hundred yards into the sea, enclosing inits sweep a narrow 
 cove, named absurdly enough the Farm Yard, which would puzzle the 
 most erudite of philologists as to its derivation. 
 
 This ledge is raised only a few feet above the level of the sea, and 
 is exceedingly broken and irregular on the surface, being full of hol- 
 lows and rugged prominences, which stand up sharply from its general 
 face, and are as hard and brittle as the refuse slag from a founders 
 furnace, which it very much resembles both in colour and appearance. 
 It is an offshoot from the main body of the rock, which springs up almost 
 perpendicularly over it, to an elevation of about one hundred and fifty 
 feet, which however may be ascended by any one with a sure foot and 
 steady head, used to scrambling up such places. At the corner of the 
 Island where the ledge branches from it, is a deep rent or chasm run- 
 ning down below the water, which looks as if it had been shattered by 
 some severe convulsion, and separated from the main rock against 
 which it appears to lean, and unite at the top, almost leading one to 
 believe that a trap dyke had been washed out by the action of the sea, 
 which rolls furiously into the little cove, and sends the surf boiling and 
 
QUIDS TO ST. HELENA. 27 
 
 thundering into the fissure with great violence and commotion. The 
 whole of the Island is of the same general character as the low led^e 
 running out from it, being: a sort of hard but porous cinder, with curl/ 
 nobs, and nodules of semi-vitreous clinker, of rusty colour thickly im- 
 bedded in the mass, almost of iron hardness, and generally with sharp 
 jagged edges, which makes sad havoc with shoe leather, a days tramp 
 and scramble in this place being more than sutiicierit to wear through 
 a pretty stiff pair of solos, especially if uiade of the " shammy " stuff 
 used by the yamstalk cobblers, the most eccentric and benighted souls 
 of the St. Crisi)in order. 
 
 The ledge is often resorted to as a station by marine Waltonians, who 
 come hen' from James* Town occasionally to enjoy wiiat they call the 
 sport of fishing, to spend the day and sometimes the night in that 
 amusement, and go through all kind of imapinar}' hardships to their 
 entire satisfaction, not unfrequently using more fish for bait than they 
 succeed m capturing, notwithstanding the abundance and variety of 
 the finny tribe glistening in the heaven-blue water at their feet. 
 There arc two or three large rocks scattered about, just shewing their 
 dark and rugged heads, above the level of the sea, between Peaked 
 Island and the main land, among which the surf is continually play- 
 ing, oftentimes breaking over, forming bold and beautiful falls, like 
 the sweeping rapids of an American river, where 
 
 *' Le tonnere des eaux, redouble k chaquc pas." 
 But now for the mainland ledge ! and its little bay rejoicing in the 
 name of Frying Pan ( ove, sacred to pic-nics and fisning parties. It is 
 much like the other ledges round this part of the coast, nor is there 
 much difference in the cliffs rearing their lofty heads high above it, 
 from others forming the iron boundaries of the Island, except perhaps 
 in the existence of a greater proportion of breccia, trap dykes, and in- 
 durated sand, than in some places we have passed in the course of our 
 sail. The name is suggestive of iiffiyis and carousals, sociability and 
 good fellowship— it is a right good place for roughing out a days 
 amusement, and enjoying the pleasures of an ad captandum dinner, or 
 a make-shift supper; for as Mrs. Glasse has said of the hare, it must 
 be caught before it can be cooked. It is a frequent thing for fishing 
 parties to run down to this place, furnished with a capacious basket 
 containing a whole store house of the good things of life snugly stowed 
 away within it, mixed with various movable kitchen utensils, in the 
 shape of platters, dishes, teapots, kettles, knives, forks, and the usual 
 odds and ends considered requisite for the furniture and gamishings of 
 a temporary table cf hote, forgetting not of course the indispensable 
 fryingpan, w herein to cook the fish to be caught, or anticipated to be 
 caught for the occasion. Great is the din of preparation, and marvel- 
 lous the bustle at such times, each one follows his bent, aiid lends a 
 willing hand to smooth down difficulties, and supply all omissions, of 
 which in general there is no lack, for if the carelul purveyor has pro- 
 vided an auiple supply of wine — somebody has forgotten the glasses; 
 railk and sugar may have been brought — but where is the tea^ and 
 what has become of the teapot; there is sure not to bo an 
 and one knife to half a dozen jieople is a luxury— -fin, 
 made before forks, and hero is a fine opportunity for using • 
 turtjuc : here is an empty mustard pot ; popper is non rst^ a. 
 was ill a screw of paper— but where is it now — cehounswc;^, . 
 
28 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 I thought you intended to bring the cups— you thought I intended to 
 look after the plates— he thought what he had no business to think, 
 that everything would provide itself— and they, that is, every one of 
 the party, took the liberty of thinking thai every body else had care- 
 fully provided for everything, whereas it is only discovered when it is 
 too late to be remedied — that what is every body's business turns out 
 to be nobody's ; and then comest he grand climacteric — here is paper 
 and lucifer matches, and there is the fryingpan, but where is the wood 
 tor the fire: — Oh, ye gods and little fishes! was there ever such a 
 doleful dilemma tortured into existence before 
 
 Then comes the sport of fishing — for sodgers and old wives, jacks, 
 and bulls eyes, stumps and longlegs, or any thing that can be 
 j>ersuaded to take the bait, and with it the hook, to tickle their gullets. 
 
 What stretching of lines, and snooding of hooks, bending of rods, 
 and mincing of bait — what heaps of paraphanalia, and displays of 
 patience-.-what cutting up of niackarel, and crushing of crabs for 
 delicate baits, and tit bits for the finny epicureans, who are not to be 
 caught with your coarse flavoured flummery — they must be tickled, 
 and tempted — and hooked by dint of persuasion, and delicate morsels. 
 In goes the hook — and flop, there's a nibble — one good tug, and lo ! 
 both hook and bait are gone - a hungry grig has gobbled them up, 
 and lies perdue for another mouthful, as comfortable as if nothing had 
 happened, to the unutterable annoyance of the poor marine Waltonian 
 — who has to snood another hook — and sit 
 
 " Like patience on a monument smiling at grief.'* 
 
 In goes a second hook, and again there is a nibble — up comes the 
 line whirling through the air as if it meant mischief, with a beautiful 
 fish at the end of it, who wriggles himself oflf the hook, just as the 
 happy captor was about to seize him - and disappears deep down into 
 his native element, without ever saying ** by your leave" or " good- 
 bye"— bat then it is such splendid sport 1 and so the time runs on — 
 alternate hit and miss, bait and nibble, loss of hook and fish, and 
 patience too — but then it really is most splendid sport ! to snood 
 another hook— and sit upon the rock — 
 
 *' Grinning ghastly a horrid smile,*' 
 
 to think the plaguey fish will not be taken with even patent hooks, 
 and nice crab bait to lure them on. And so the sport goes on for 
 hours, till at last a poor unlucky greenhorn impales himself, and 
 "dies the death,*' to cheer the heart, and gladden the eyes of the 
 never-tiring, and all-enduring piscatorian, who takes him home in 
 triumph, as the trophy gained by the free expenditure of as much 
 mackarel, dainty crab, and mince, as would suflSce to feed a school 
 of hungry porpoises— but then it is such splendid spurt ? Sometimes 
 the happy anglers are fortunate enough to secure fish sufficient to give 
 them a hearty good dinner on the rocks, as well as to take home to 
 their beloved spouses if they are married, or to their Dulcineas, and 
 Chloes, if they have the misfortune to be unhappy swains in a 
 deplorable state of single blessedness. And when they do get home 
 on such a joyous occasion, the welkin rings again with eloquent 
 accounts of their piscatorial skill and wonderful exploits — conger .s 
 have been caught of immeasurable length and unascertainable weight 
 
I 
 
 ll^IDE TO S' 
 
 five fingers have give>i up the gli jst by do7c".s, and oi«i wive» 
 
 rrendered their charms by scores ; soldiers have laid down their 
 ves and submitted to their fate, as become hero's in misfortune ~ 
 preat was the slaughter of jacks, and wonderful the blindness of 
 bulls eyes, and glorious the number of yellow tails, the St. Helena 
 salmon, which lined the willow ribs of their commissariat basket, to 
 tjcklo the fancy and excite the unmeasured admiration of their ador- 
 \ngr spouses, and adorable sweethearts. 
 
 Some anglers there are, who are so devoted to the sport, or so 
 weaned of the ennui of home, that they think it the height of luxury, 
 and the perfection of fishing, to remain out all night, and sleep under 
 the lee of some friendly rock. Cooking what they catch serves to 
 while away one part of the night, twaddle, gossip, and stories, gives 
 it another help on its way, drinking punch or jorums of eau de vie, 
 singing songs and smoking segars lubricates the joints of time, and 
 hurrys by the " witching hour," when Somnus comes with soft and 
 stealthy steps, to seal the eyes in sleep and keep them safely loc-ked, 
 till morning swims alonj; the sea, and wakes the drowsy sleepers 
 from their dreams, to struggle through another day, and spend their 
 time as best they can in busy idleness, or tiresome pleasure. 
 
 The general scenery of this part of the coast is wild and rugged in 
 the extreme, being broken into a variety of ravines, hills of singular 
 shape and varied colours jumbled together, and piled one above ano- 
 ther as if done in sport in one of natures most fantastic moods, while 
 trying her " prentice hand " at something savage, grand, or sublime. 
 "While the short broken irregular ledges strewed over with bouldert, 
 indented with bays and coves, into which the sea pours, fretting aad 
 foaming with irresistible force, as if lashing the rampart of rocks, and 
 trying to beat them down, and crumble the whole Island away piece by 
 piece, and ride triumphant over its ruins, in proof of its supremacy and 
 illimitable power. The various rocks scattered about in the sea, and 
 the fragmentary character of the two Islands conspicuous above them 
 all, broken and shattered as they are by some gigantic convulsion, 
 combined with their scorched and clinkery aspect, hopeless sterility, 
 and utter desolation, viewed in connexion as they must be, with the 
 basalt walls, driven as if with irresistible energy through the lava 
 masses of the mainland, from unknown depths below, arrests the atten- 
 tion and strikes the mind with a vivid impression, that it is alone the 
 work of supernatural agency, and in the emphatic words of De La 
 Martine accomplished, 
 
 " Lorsque du Cr^ateur la parole feconde 
 Dans une heure fatale eui enfante le monde 
 
 Des germs du chaos, 
 De son ceuvre imparfaite il detourna sa fare 
 Et d'un ])ied deduignoaux le Un<;ant dans I'tapacc 
 
 Henlra daiii ion repos." 
 
CHAPTER HI. 
 
 yruicii STILL fjoics kound the coast, and keeps the panorama 
 
 MOVING. 
 
 *' There is rapture in the lonely shore, 
 There is society where none intrudes. 
 By the deep sea, and music in its roar." 
 
 After quitting the little cove sacred to fishing and cookery, we glide 
 along the coast, barren and rocky as usual, without having any thing 
 on it particularly worth notice, till a couple of rocks rear themselves 
 up out of the water, like two sullen centinels guarding the headlands 
 of Thompson's Bay. They are too small to require any description, 
 and have nothing in them interesting, cither one way or another, not 
 having either a story or a legend attached to them ; and as a true and 
 really veracious guide, it would be unbecoming and highly indecorous 
 if not indeed positively criminal, for the author to invent any, and palm 
 them off, as veritable specimens of the traditional lore of the place. 
 The bay itselt is much like the others round this part of the coast, 
 and as most of them have been already described, any one of them 
 will pretty well answer for this, by changmg the names, and indulging 
 in a joyous ululation on the romantic appearance of the time- 
 beaten batteries, frowning on the summit of one of the hills forming 
 the boundary of the bay, in addition to which the dry bed of a moun- 
 tain stream might be introduced to heighten the general etfect, with a 
 rapturous account of its appearance when filled with muddy water, 
 frothing and foaming along it, after a good spanking shower, for there 
 is nothing like contrast to heighten the effect of a picture, whether 
 drawn with the pen or the pencil. 
 
 Bidding adieu to this spot, without any particular throes of regret 
 or compunction, we pass along a considerable stretch of the same wild 
 and barren wall of inaccessible rock, till our highly favored craft 
 sweeps round a lofty bluff into the surf-shaken waters of no less a 
 place than Tripe Bay, famous for nothing but its culinary name, the 
 origin of which like many other things is a mystery, said to be impen- 
 etrable, which however might be solved by begging the question as the 
 logicians have it, and assuming that it is so called from the imaginary 
 fact, that the first parties who ever visited it might have enjoyed there 
 the luxury of a tripe dinner, which it is easy to demonstrate is the 
 best thing they could have had, when nothing else was to be obtained. 
 
 Emerging from this little bay, a boat generally encounters a chop- 
 ping sea, and feels the effect of a powerful current, wh.ch sweeps with 
 great force round what may be described as the greatest western ex- 
 tremity of the Island, and which is known by the correct and expres- 
 »ive name of West Point, a bold and striking promontory rearing its 
 lofty crest and rugged sides high above the waters, fretting and 
 chafing with sullen voice and angry aspect at its rocky base. 
 
OUIDI TO ST. niLENA. 
 
 !....„ 
 
 ^^Bf coast opens into view with all its points and bays, and rocky islets 
 HBcattered about, till closed in the distance by the projecting bluff of 
 Castle Rock Pointy which ends the scene with bold and appropriate 
 prandeur. The whole line of coast in this direction is more grand 
 than picturesque, and wild than beautiful, being lofty throughout its 
 lonptli, with numerous abrupt and projecting points of great elevation, 
 which jutt b'ldiy out from its general line, and give greater effect to 
 the little bays and recesses scooped out of its inaccessible and uninvit- 
 ing cliffs, being pleasingly varied by the rock islets scattered about, 
 and enlivened by the surf incessantly fringing them round, with a light 
 and beautiful belt of silvery spray flashing in the noonday-sun with all 
 the colours of the rainbow, like a shower of gems swept up by the 
 winds from the surface of the sea. 
 
 On leaving West Point we pass a deeply indented cove, without a 
 name, to New Point, a clumsy headland, high above which is a 
 deserted hut used as a telegraph during the exile of Napoleon, which, 
 from its lofty position, commands a great sweep of horizon, and conse- 
 quently a view of anything approaching to the western limits of the 
 Island, while far away beneath it is an isolated rock known as Bird 
 Island, by which we pass on to Old Joan Foint, and sweep across a 
 feebly defined bay to Old Father Voint, with its little cove and rock 
 masses, till we glide into Manatee Bay, which appears to have derived 
 its name from a sea cow which might possibly have been cast up on 
 the rocks of the beach, for in Rennefort's Voyages we are told that 
 among other curiosities he admired 
 
 " Les ossemens d'un lamantin ou d'une 
 Vache marine, nomme aussi manatee," 
 w hich piece of conjectural etymology, it is humbly hoped, will be satis- 
 factory to the most critical and disputatious of the tribe of comment 
 scribbling nomenclaturians. From this bay is a bold and interesting 
 view of some of the lofty ridges, which block up the valleys and naked 
 ravines leading down to it, from the mountains looming through the 
 mists in the distance, with the rocky stream beds chaimelled on their 
 nface which straggle down to the beach, where the cliffs of the coast 
 lope down to the sea to give them egress, into which their waters fall 
 .ttcr a storm or heavy showers of rain. Keeping on our course from 
 I his place we skim along the shore indented with many coves and 
 nameless bays, round Rainy Point, and skirt the surf, beating round 
 several isolated rocks dctacned from the main land, forming a line of 
 eight or ten naked islets, and pass between Specry Island and its 
 diminutive sisters, till wc Ijiv too under the lofty time-scattered head 
 of Castle Rock, and pause for a while to look about us, admire the 
 magnificence of nature, and gaze upon one of the wildest of her 
 wayward and caoricious freaks. 
 
 Speerv Islanff, a lofty conical rock, rising out of the waters opposite 
 
 r'aatle Point, although utterly barren, forms a striking feature in the 
 
 • Jieral scene and is not without a redeeming quality, for when a flood of 
 
 i^ht from the sun is full upon it, seen at a Tittle distance, it glows like 
 
 ' pile of burnished silver, and forms a brilliant contrast to the vast 
 
 i.isses of the coast line, and dii;t • cattcred around it, which are 
 
 iirk and ruddy, and scarcely' from the parent cliffs from 
 
 •o,u I, t!...v have been ri'-">< ^ ' • • "t ■^'•' '<» -"^v inherent 
 
32 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 property of the Island itself, for it is but a larger frapment severed 
 from the clitTs towering above it ; the whiteness which is its distin- 
 guishing feature, is nuthincr more than the guano of innumerable sea 
 birds who are its solo inhabitants, and keep it like Calibans in the 
 Tempest, fvll of iioisfs by their incessant cries, and alive by their 
 rapid and graceful evolutions when gyrating round its summit, or 
 skimming the surface of the sea in search of food. 
 
 Seen in the full splendour of the setting sun, flushed over with a 
 flood of golden light, when the r>,lling waters of the sea, and its 
 feathery crests are tinged of the same glorious hue, when the lohy 
 headlands ot the coast, and the isolated rocks at their feet, glow bright 
 and beautiful in borrowed splendour ; when the wooded hills of the inte- 
 rior, with the various coloured ravines, shine through the flickery 
 haze, like a fairy land, or the brilliant but unsubstantial glories of 
 pleasing dreams ; when ''distance lends enchantment to the view," and 
 the hoarse music of the waters, the cry of the wild sea birds, mingle 
 with the wailing of the winds in deep and sonorous harmony, unite 
 and produce a combination of sights and sounds, that may be paral- 
 elled, but not surpassed, in wild and gorgeous magnificence. 
 
 When the sun sinks down below the shadowy verge of the western 
 horizon, withdraws his bright enchantments to light another world, 
 the rising mists shut out the distant hills, and renders indistinct the 
 naked ravines, *' when the centinel stars set their watch in the sky," 
 and the moon struggles through a fading vail of clouds, the scene is 
 beautiful, but its beauty is of another and more gentle kind, more sub- 
 dued and soft, but not less pleasing, with greater play of light and 
 shade, the harsh outlines being softened down, and rude projections 
 rendered less conspicuous and obtrusive. The rocky islets throw their 
 shadows in sable patches on the rolling surface of the " moonlit 
 waters." Speery Isle rears up its lofty head, gently white like 
 t'rosted silver, while the restless sea rolls among the rocks, and sweeps 
 from Isle to Isle 
 
 *' There gathering triple force, rapid and deep. 
 
 It boils, and wheels, and foams, and thunders through," 
 hemming them round with a fringe of surf and spray, where 
 
 " Lashed into foam, the fierce conflicting brine 
 
 Seems o'er a thousand raging waves to shine 1" 
 like silvery vapours pure and unsullied, rising up in filmy clouds, to 
 soar away at Neptune's bidding, and travel with the wind, to fall again 
 in gentle showers on many a stretch of parched and droughty land, 
 that it may be 
 
 *' — at once arrayed 
 
 In all the colours of the flushing year, 
 
 .. but chiefly, thee gay green, 
 
 Thou smiling natures universal robe 1" 
 On rounding Castle Rock Point, another wild and romantic line 
 of coast scenery opens into view, and stretches away to the eastward, 
 till it is shut out by the projecting bluff of Powell Point. Buffetting 
 the current setting along this part of the coast, we skim by the side 
 of a rugged detached rock, called the "Jar," and glide along the 
 swelling waters under frowning heights to Frightus Rock, an irre- 
 gularly shaped mass of basalt, separated from its parent cliff; which 
 
GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. -J-i 
 
 rears its etorni-beaten head from among the breakers, lashing its ba«e 
 as if in wanton defiance of their never ceasing restlessness and angry 
 strength. Nearly opposite this rock ia a wild and not unpicture8<|uo 
 ▼alley or rather ravine, with a stony blurt* and straggling ridge called 
 Man of War Roost, from the number of sea birds of that name who 
 make it their home, and breed securely within its rocky faslnesscss. 
 Rolling on our course for a time, we arrive at the yawning mouth of a 
 deep and narrow valley, terminating in a perpendicular cliff of moder- 
 ate height, under which the sea frets and foams among a series of 
 coves and curious square chambers, formed by the remains of basalt 
 walls, which intersect each other near'y at right angles, and lhusshai>e 
 out a series of ponds, while high above them are some vertical wall 
 like masses of basalt, to which the name of the Chimneys has been 
 given, from their resemblance to a long stack of these smoke con- 
 ducting tunnels. These chimneys are considered as great curiosities 
 by the natives ; thej' are however nothing more than fragments of the 
 many lines of basalt which abound in this neighbourhood, and which 
 are seen forcing themselves vertically into the flanks and faces of the 
 mountain masses forming the scenery hereabouts, which is bold and 
 striking in its general appearance. The chinmey par excellence stands 
 alone by itself, and rises from its rocky base to an height of fifty or 
 sixty feet, being about thirty long, and a couple of yards in thickness ; 
 immediately in the rear of it is another in the process of formation, 
 being already partially detached from the face of the cliff by the dis- 
 integration of the softer rock, aided by the action of the sea, which is 
 constantly bathing it with its white and feathery spray. An irregular 
 ledge of basalt forms the seriated boundary of this place, which is 
 called Lot's Wife Beach, and over which the sea breaks with great 
 force and vehemence in times of surfs or heavy swells, forming a 
 pleasing variety of bold and picturesque cascades every time a heavy 
 wave breaks over it, by which the broken squares called the *' Ponds " 
 are filled to overflowing with the " briny flood," lashed into a state of 
 jKJrfcct foam. The place takes its name, as well as the ravine above 
 It, from a columnar pile of basalt of a singular shape called Lots Wife, 
 
 {lerched on the summit of a lofty and extensive ridge nearly fifteen 
 mndred feet in height, which stretches away into the interior to meet 
 the tail end of the principal ridge of mountains which separates the 
 Island into two unequal portions, and which are visible from the sea 
 in this direction, as they reach an elevation of about two thousand five 
 hundred feet, and in many parts are clothed with trees to their very 
 summits, which form a welcome and pleasing contrast to the naked 
 desolation of most of the rocky glens on this side of the Island. 
 
 Ffom this place we pass by a long and precipitous stretch of coast^ 
 till we round Horse Head Point, and regardless of the rusty guns 
 mounted on its rugged and broken summit, sweep on the busom of the 
 swelling rollers into Sandi/ Bat/, a place of no great dimensions, but 
 of considerable wildness, which is further increased by the conflict of 
 the waters breaking with great fury on its rocky ledges and shingly 
 beach. The view up the valley which opens into this bay, is full of 
 wild and savage grandeur, utterly barren and desolate, it looms in all 
 its inexnressiole nakedness like the fire scathed ruins of a world 
 dcslroyeu, and dark and dreary as the valley of the shadow of death. 
 
34 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 Deep glens of lava and volcanic scoriae, dismal ravines, and shat- 
 tered walls of crumbling basalt, dry and parched beds of mouotaiii 
 torrents, strewn with rocks and boulders, lurid clinkcry hills, blotched 
 with cavernous openings, beds of decomposed rock, and patches of 
 sand, bright and glowing with gay colours, as if but just vomited 
 from the yawning jaws of some volcano, whose terrible throes had 
 Hyen the hills, and scattered their splintery fragments in a state of 
 wild and inextricable confusion over every thing that greets the eye, 
 unite in one expanse of unutterable desolation and dreary dismalness, 
 to form a scene at once appalling and terrific, surpassing all that 
 imagination could invent, awful from its evidence of the irresistible 
 energies of nature, and sublime for its unimpeachable demonstration 
 of the utter insignificance of man's conception of the illimitable, all- 
 accomplishing power, and inscrutable purpose of a deity at once infinite 
 and omniscient. 
 
 A line of fortifications stretches along the beach, and blocks up 
 the entrance into the valley, while the two rocky hills jutting into 
 the sea, and forming the boundaries of the bay, are crowned with 
 walls, guns, and batteries, thus increasing the natural strength of 
 the place, which, even without these military works, would be 
 diflacult to capture, if defended with anything, like the general run of 
 English courage and obstinacy. 
 
 As this bay is exposed to the full force of the trade winds, which 
 blow pretty constantly into it, as well as to the uninterrupted sweep 
 ot the sea, with its various currents, it is generally very rough and 
 agitated, with a tremendous surf beating on the shelvy rocks, and 
 shingly beach, which form its boundaries, so that it is difiicult to 
 effect a landing, and anything but safe to those who are not acquainted 
 with all its local bearings and peculiarities. The greater part of the 
 beach, above the shingles, is covered with vast beds of sand, from 
 which circumstance, as well as from the quantity scattered about in 
 beds in different parts of the valley, the place takes its name, and 
 as sandy beaches are rarities in the Island, its name appears appro- 
 priate and significant of one at least of its principal features. 
 
 A singular story is current respecting this bay, to the effect that 
 some years ago, a boat was overturned, in consequence of an over- 
 grown shark blundering against it, while prowling about on a foraging 
 expedition He appears not to have been either very hungry, 
 or very angry, when he got the thump, for the people in the boat at 
 the time of the accident, were enabled to climb on to the bottom of 
 it, when turned keel uppermost, where they remained till they 
 reached the shore, and were so far placed in safety. A man and a 
 boy was in the boat, and such was the effect of fright on the man, 
 that he is said to have died two hours after i^e was landed. 
 
 But let us leave this rocky, ruiny sea-beaten piace, cast a passing 
 glance on the crumbling walls of basalt as we row by them, and pull 
 up to that rock there straight before us, peeping out of the sea like a 
 centinel on the watch, and proceed on our voyage, or by the faith of 
 a true and trusty guide, we shall uever get to the end of our journey. 
 From this little bit of a rock which has been honored with the name 
 of Sandy Bay Island, there is a fine view, up the valleys running 
 from the bay, as well as of considerable portions of the coast, which 
 is as bold, romantic, and diversified hereabouts, as can be wished. 
 
GUIDE TO 8T. HELENA. 35 
 
 Considoralily inland, may be sceti the broad summit of White Hill, 
 towering hit;h above the coast clilfs, themselves of no insignificant 
 altitude, which frenorally appears as if a faint wreath of smoke was 
 ruiling up from its bald white head, and with u little stretch of the 
 imagination, might bo taken for the fumes of a slumbering volcano, 
 percolating throui?h the crust of the mountain, previous to a more 
 boisterous ebullition and commotion. 
 
 This feathery wreath, however, is altogether very harmless, and 
 nut produced by any very alarming or energetic cause — being nothing 
 more than faint clouds of dust carried up by the wind, which sweeps 
 along the various valleys running towards this hill, where they amuse 
 themselves by getting up a merry reel when they meet together 
 ()!i its summit, an 1 by their persuasive blandishments, induce the 
 |>owdery dust on its surface to make this striking display of its 
 ponderous levity, by joining in the dance, and rising up in a fleecy 
 mist, till it whirls away, and is lost in the distance. 
 
 From the dusty clouds crowning the summit of this romance 
 inspiring hill, the eye wanders along the flanks of a lofty, irregular 
 range of utterly naked mountains, till it rests on the huge mass of 
 sterility towering above the projecting headland of Powell Pointy 
 and known as Sandy Bay Barn — a spot remarkable for its utter 
 desolation, even in the midst of a wilderness. 
 
 Opposite the bluff end of this forbidding, and repulsive mountain, 
 are two black naked rocks in the sea, at no great distance from the 
 shore, and from their ai)pearancc, called the " Buoys," round which, 
 the waves are incessantly fretting and fuming, apparently in a 
 vain endeavour to wash thetn away, and sweep them headlong into 
 the scarcely fathomable depths below. 
 
 Leaving these rocks, we skirt along the edge of the cliffs, and 
 sweep round a projecting ledge into Powell Bay, a narrow confined 
 place, and take a peep up the dreary valley leading from it, till the 
 view is shut out by the sloping sides of a great lumpish hill, which 
 splits the valley into a fork, the tail-ends of which lose themselves 
 in the wooded gullies and gorges under Diana^s Peak, in the great 
 central range in the interior of the Island. And as there is nothing 
 either very particular or uninviting to induce us to prolong our stay, 
 we will skim the edge of the bay, pass under the projecting head- 
 land of Lony Ranye^ along the rugged and precipitous coast, to 
 Deep Valley Bay, take a turn roun<l the rock in the middle of it, 
 and run into the mouth, as near as we can of Deep Valley, and lay 
 on our oars a few minutes, to look up its terror striking depths. It 
 is a truly dismal place, narroiV and deep, enclosed in by a lofty wall 
 of rocks on either hand, terrible in the repulsive nakedness of their 
 aspect, and towering up to an alamiing height as if to shut out the 
 light of day from the valley, and keep it for ever in a state of 
 sombre darkness — 
 
 " OiX la solitude est sans voi.x :'* 
 
 and where the eye wanders from rock to rock, from one abyss to 
 another, in a state of bewilderment and confusion, without the 
 satisfaction of sublimity, or the gratification of a romantic variety — 
 it is the very plethora of monotony. There is nothing particular in 
 
 »i,.. nw, ,....,•..,,<... ,,f the \y.\y '■' .»-.., ,,^ •'"■' »i>"->fore we will pull 
 
3G GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 along an extensive stretch of cliffs, all pretty much alike, lofty, 
 steep, and harren, till we come to Rough Rockj as its name imports 
 a rugged isolated rock, standing in the sea, as if disowned by its 
 parent cliffs, by which we pass into a little bay or cove which brings 
 us directly under the fearfully wild and excoriated sea face of Great 
 Stone Top, a tremendous precipice, which drops plump down into 
 the ocean depths below, looking fur all the world as if one half of 
 the mountain had been split from the other, and sunk into the sea. 
 It is a wild and dreary })laco, savagely grand, with here and there 
 a touch ot the picturesque ; for the fantastic outlines of its numerous 
 craggy points, chasms, and ravines, gives an ever varying etfect of 
 light and shade, that cannot fail to arrest attention, and gratify the 
 mind by the singular boldness and grandeur of its principal masses. 
 It towers up to a great height, and overlooks everything near ; it is 
 proudly preeminent, and flings its shadow over the ravines and 
 valleys at its base, in the insolence of its imperious contempt, as if 
 to shrink them into comparative nothingness, reign sole lord of the 
 wilderness, and brook no rival near its throne; time scathes, 
 weather-beaten, and lashed by the ever restless sea, it stands boldly 
 
 " Dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun !" 
 
 Not far from it in the interior, is its twin brother, like itself, bold 
 and striking in its general features, crowned on the summit with an 
 immense boulder stone, like the ruins of a vitrified fort, and strongly 
 resembling it by having a precipitous face, which drops down to the 
 plain at its base, as if one half had been rent away and scattered 
 to the winds, leaving the other in the full enjoyment of its lonely 
 isolation ; these twin giants forcibly recall to memory the beautiful 
 lines of the poet, orator and statesman La Martine, — 
 
 " Ces monts vainqueurs des vents, de la foudre, et des ages, 
 Ou dans leur masse auguste, ct leur solidite, 
 Ce Dieu grava sa force, et son eternite." 
 
 Once more to the oars, pull on, and we pass a rock on the end 
 of the ledge under Great Stone Top, called the Elephant, by which 
 we sweep into the bay which takes its name from the mountain we 
 have just soliloquised upon, and stop for a few minutes to indulge in 
 a look up the valley, which leads into it a deep gorge, with naked 
 precipitous sides running a considerable distance into the interior, 
 till it meets with the grassy slopes of Arno's Vale, and terminates at 
 the foot of Diana's Peak, in a wild and beautiful glen, encompassed 
 around with pleasant hills and thriving woods. Then pursuing our 
 course, we follow the shore with the lofty cliffs above us, till we 
 reach Gill Point, where we can take advantage of the trade wind 
 if we please, hoist sail, and make our crazy whale boat, 
 
 " Walk the waters like a thing of life ;' 
 
 but before doing so, let us have a run round the two great rocks 
 standing in the sea, at a respectful distance from the land, the one 
 being called Shore, and the other Georges Island; then hoist sail — 
 and hey ! for a run before the wind, till fate and free will bids us 
 stop to scrutinize, and look upon some other scene as wild and 
 wonderful as those we leave behind us ! 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MHICH TERMIVATE8 THE VOYAGE, AND ALL ITS MANY IXCIDINTS. 
 
 *• Oh, bless me ! there's the landing place at last. 
 Thank goodness ; now our troubles all are past !" 
 
 No, not yet good reader, put not thy trust in poets, whatever thou 
 raayest do in guides and the writers of guide books ; dream not of the 
 journey's end, for one-third of the Island has yet to be surveyed and 
 circumnavigated. 
 
 Art thou impatient, good reader ? — if thou art, let me tell thee for 
 thine own especial edification, that the trip may soon b« run, and the 
 St. Helena Light House gained — a dull street lamp on the old pier 
 head, for there is not much on the route to detain us long ; therefore 
 make thyself happy by anticipating an early finish to thy marine 
 adventures, and blame not the guide for his loquacity, but ponder well 
 on what one Hugues de Bercy, a gentle troubadour, has said or sung 
 to comfort the afflicted 
 
 "Quand li oeil pleure, li cuer rit" 
 
 that is, dear benevolent reader — make thy heart glad when thine eyes 
 are sad and weary with seeing sights such as thou hast this day gazed 
 upon, and make thyself 
 
 *' A happy soul, that all the way 
 To heaven hath a summer's day !" 
 
 and when thou gettest home, or snugly puttest thy feet beneath good 
 men's tables, strike up a merry stave, to musics sweetest measure, 
 culle<l from the rhymes of gay Sir Johnny Suckling ! and relate the 
 tale of thy adventures as thou singest 
 
 ** I tell thee, Dick, where I have been, 
 
 Where 1 the rarest things have seen ; 
 Oh, things without compare ! 
 
 Such sights again cannot be found 
 
 In any place, in any ground ; 
 Bo it at wake or fair !' 
 But let us be going before the sun goes down, or our sights and scenery 
 will be lost; therefore give way, pull round Gill Point, and skim 
 along the coast by cliffs; and rocks, ravines and rents, bays and coves, 
 and shallow caves, till yon great projecting bluff juts out to stop us on 
 our way, and claim a passing look. It is a curious place, a pile of 
 rocks of no great regal grandeur called the ** King and Queen," 
 which look as if they had taken umbrage with the other rocks there 
 towering up above them, and had made violent and unseemly efforts to 
 separate from their subject cliffs, and thrown themselves in the sea, at 
 a cold and haughty distance, and fence themselves round with a 
 tabooed line of surf, if not with what they envy more, " tlie dimity 
 
38 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 that dotli hedge a king." High above them on the crest of a pinna- 
 cled hill, arc the remains of a signal station, with a flagstaff, where 
 used to fly 
 
 "The flag that's braved a thousand years, 
 
 The battle and the breeze." 
 
 It is now deserted, and many a year since the tramp of the centinel 
 woke the echoes as he paced its rocky platform, and watched with 
 anxious eye the advent of a distant sail, or more earnestly held their 
 watch and ward to keep Napoleon from escaping, or telegraph his 
 movements when riding round the stone-strewed limits of his prison- 
 home, while 
 
 *• The millions that swore they would perish to save, 
 Beheld him a fugitive, captive, and slave." 
 Passing farther along the coast we round the projecting head of Bay 
 Point, skim the edge of the surf round a few rocks aud ledges, and 
 sweep with all the grace we can muster into Prosperous Bay, — 
 blessings on the man who christened it with such a soul-inspiring name 
 — may the turf rest light upon him in his grave, wherever that 
 may be. 
 
 This bay takes its name in consequence of a successful landing 
 having been effected here, when the Island was recaptured from 
 the Dutch in the year 1673, under the command of an officer named 
 Kcdgwin, the rock on which they first landed bemg called by his 
 name to immortalize the exploit, and the bay itself christened Pros- 
 perous, to carry down to ages yet unwombed, the triumphant termin- 
 ation of the enterprise ; such at least are the traditions of the place, 
 and the records of grave historians. 
 
 It is a very picturesque place, the line of coast here being broken 
 into a variety of ravines and rugged hills, many of them of great 
 extent, and as diversified as they are extensive. 
 
 A broad flat ledge of lava, basalt, and tufa, runs round the bay 
 under the cliffs, except in a few limited places, where beds of shingles 
 form little shelving beaches, and add to the variety of the scene. The 
 cliffs are bold and striking, of very irregular shape, presenting a 
 variety of tints and fiery colours scattered in streaks and patches about 
 their rents and vertical faces, that at once attracts the eye and draws 
 attention to their volcanic origin, which here seems plainly stamped 
 upon them, too palpable to be mistaken. Some of the basalt dykes 
 are richly coloured with every tint of fiery hue, as bright as if they 
 had been quenched but only yesterday, which contrast finely with the 
 dark and lurid masses of the cindery mountains rising up around 
 them. In the centre of the beach, a few feet above the level of the 
 high water line, is a little block house of two stories, pierced for 
 muskets, which, as it stands alone, forms a conspicuous feature in the 
 general landscape ; it has been long deserted, and is in a ruinous 
 condition, one of its angles having been washed down by the heavy 
 surfs, not unfrequent on this part of the coast. 
 
 On a rock, at a considerable elevation from the sea, is a second 
 block house, which was built to guard a trackway leading up the lofty 
 hill in its rear, which was the rugged path chosen by the English 
 when they captured the Island. It leads up to a barrack and maga- 
 zine on the edge of the cliff overhanging the valley, several hundred 
 
I 
 
 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 in perpondicular heiplit, wliere in a Heep and scarcely accessible 
 rock, called " hold fast Tom," over which the gallant captors had to 
 scramble ami work their way up, under the guidance of a negro. 
 
 Why thcso gallant ami jicricvering fellows should have been taken 
 this route is altoprethcr unaccounlnhle, as thi.»re \s a raune leading 
 iVum the valley to the opposite heiC:lits, of much more easy access, 
 and which would have led thera directly up into the interior of the 
 Island quite as easily iis the line they adopted— perhaps Black 
 (Oliver Wdi9 a professional guide — if so, the mystery is out— Icr 
 professional guides invariably conduct strangers by the most ronni- 
 ubout difficult route they can find, in order lo make the greater 
 display of their intiinalo acquaintance with the Geography of u.e 
 place ; but pray do not think ^'Ood reader, that I am playing thea 
 tlu» same scurvy trick - for ai; llie showman says, *' you have paid 
 
 iir money," and are entitled to the choice. 
 
 i'he valley leading up fiom the ! ay is dreary, even unto the degree 
 of dreadfulness, being exceedingly narrow, and enclosed in by lofty 
 rocks, wild and broken in ilieir appearance, abounding with levers 
 and beds of lava, and extensive piles of columnar basalt, perched 
 among the cliffs, rent hy cracks and fissures, an- overhanging, as 
 if about to thunder uowa upon you from their dizzy heights, and fjl 
 iho place with universal 'in It tcrr ':;atti abiuptly in a t'ccp 
 gorge with vertical siJoJ, ui»vn whiCh u stream of water tumbles 
 from the gully above into tiie yawning abyss, ono or two hundred 
 feet below, ge:erally falling in a shower of spray, except in time of 
 floods, when it drops down in a continuous stream, a:^d fills the 
 ravine with the hoarse sound of many rushing waters. 
 
 From the bottom of this, the chief fall, it winds among heaps of 
 stones and boulders, W(.\.M!:i and rushes, til' ». shoos over a set -jnd 
 fall nearly as deep as the. one from which ii Las just escajtci, and 
 then goes bellowing and foaming through a deep and narrow channel 
 it has ploughed out for itself, till it gets inclosed in beds of rushes, 
 and matted jungles of grass, through which it forces its way, falls 
 over a little ledge into a shallow pond, an 1 luially escapes over the 
 shingles into the sea. There is a track or nad about a foot wide, 
 which winds and climbs among the ledges and rocks, from the beach 
 up through the valley, or ravine to speak more strictly, to the edge 
 of Prosperous Bay Plain, in the direction of Bradleys ; it is not 
 difficult for pedestrians, and may be accomplished by horses, if they 
 are sure footed and steady, for one false step would send them 
 headlong over the precipices, along which, the road works its 
 sinuous way ; and without wishing to make a pun, or give offence, 
 I may venture to observe, that both the ascent and descent is accom- 
 plislied very easily by Asses, even when laden with a cargo of fish. 
 Passing a little distance along the coast, we reach ScraffffV Puinif 
 and a singular hill, something in shape like a gigantic tuiban, and 
 not inaptly called Turk's C ap, which also gives nanje to the little 
 bay spreading out immediately in front of it. The whole of this 
 neij^hbourhood is of a wild and savage aspect, being allt gether made 
 up of deep valleys, with lateral ravines, and basalt walls, of con- 
 siderable n*a"Tiitude, variously tinted, with layers of jwrty eolourerl 
 marl, and lidun covered rocks, which form in many places a stnkinir 
 r-mfpict »■ 'ho general monotoi'y of tl.«' predominating ni^'-">l"''' d 
 
40 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 maases, piled layer on layer, and following the contour of the ridges 
 on which they rest, as if in a vain struggle to accommodate them- 
 selves to the intricacies of their time-shaken beds. 
 
 Higher up the valley, above the TurlCs Cap^ on the projecting 
 bluff heads of two of the hills, are Cook's, and Gregory's batteries, 
 to protect the entrance, and block up the route into the interior of 
 the Island ; they have however enjoyed a sinecure ever since they 
 had the honor to be erected, and have not smelt powder, or heard 
 the rumble of a gun for many years past. There is a legend or story 
 attached to Gregory's Hill, to the effect, that some time since, a 
 soldier in a crazy mood, marked the outline of his hand on the wall 
 of the battery, where it now remains, and then threw himself off 
 the rocks into the gorge beneath, and thus put an end to all his 
 earthly troubles ; poor wretch ! — may the earth lie light upon thee — 
 ** sit tibi terra levis !" 
 
 Skimming round the rough outline of Scraggy Point, we pass 
 gently into Turks Cap Bay, and glance for a few minutes at the 
 mouth of the ravine opening into it, on one or two singular rocky 
 ledges projecting into the sea, till the eye is arrested by the gigantic 
 mass, and bold features of the lonely and desolate Barrio a huge 
 mountain of rock rearing itself out of the waters in all the sublimity 
 of unutterable nakedness. 
 
 It is a prominent feature on all parts of this coast, as well as from 
 most of the inland heights, although it is neither the largest or the 
 loftiest mountain hereabouts, it is by far the most striking. Its shape 
 is singular, a huge blunt wedge, scored with rents, fissures, and 
 ravines, abounding with ledges, angular points, and all the intricacies 
 incidental to a pile of barren rocks, exposed to the uninterrupted 
 action of the elements. When capped with the clouds, and seen from 
 the central parts of the Island, it forms no bad representation of its 
 giant- brother, the Table Mountain at the Cape of Good Hope — the 
 comparison has been often made by visitors who have seen them both. 
 Not far from it is Flagstaff Hill, rising up to the height of two 
 thousand two hundred and seventy two feet, like a cone rent in twain, 
 as is usual with the heights in this Island, as if it had been suddenly 
 split asunder, and one half had toppled down headlong into the sea, 
 leaving the perpendicular face of the other half naked and pathless 
 above the crested foam beating at its base. On the summit of this 
 hill are the remains of a signal station, a low square platform, with 
 steps, and a hole for the flagstaff, an alarm gun dismounted, lying on 
 the grass, red with rust, and other memorials of its former occupation, 
 for like many others it is now deserted, and shorn of its once display 
 of warlike equipments and signalizing paraphanalia. 
 
 The view from the summit is grand and extensive, stretching over 
 nearly one half of the Island, with all its variety of mountains, 
 ridges, deep valleys, and dreary ravines, scored with the floods, and 
 glowing with every variety of colour— from the green woods and 
 herbage on the hills, to the fiery lines of the volcanic sands, and 
 weather-beaten lichens on the crumbling rocks. 
 
 Looking downward from this lofty height, among the fire scathed 
 rocks far away beneath us, the sight is grand, and in many places 
 strikingly impressive ; the neighbouring ravines are deep and impene- 
 trable ; the rocky headi of the coast bluffs utterly sterile, and the 
 
GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 41 
 
 whole of its more immediate scenery as savage aud uninviting as it 
 is |)ossiblo to conceive, filling the mind with vagne thoughts of fiery 
 devastations, violent convulsions, and all the teirors of illimitable 
 chaos and confusion. 
 
 Hounding the Barn Point, and skimming the precipitous coast in a 
 north-westerly direction, under lofty cliffs, and by ravines deep and 
 yawning, we pass the curved sweep of Flagstalf Bay, the largest in 
 the Island, till we reach Sugar Loaf Point, with its remarkable head- 
 lands, a huge cone with a rocky projoctinu' knob, surmounted by an 
 immense boulder stone, on which is orecle<l a weather-beaten flagstaff, 
 long since denudtd of his trappings, and irmocent of a Hag, from 
 which poiDt we !/ain sight of the shipping in James' Town Bay, with 
 a prospi irly termination of this long and loquacious excur- 
 
 sion. 
 
 Among tho lucks, on the under side of the ledge of lava on the 
 iuiit, are one or two huts, formerly occupied by the soldiers and 
 signalmen stationed here; thoy are approached by a narrow and now 
 scarcely discernible path, which follows the ridge of the precipice 
 pretty closely till it reaches tho rocky ledge, where it terminates 
 abruptly on the little platform in front of the huts. Up to this point 
 it is accessible w ith horses or mules, by which means, in former times 
 occupanis of the station were supplied with water and provisions. 
 
 The summit of the cone is only a few feet square, and the greater 
 part of it is occu])ied by the large boulder stone, which forms its apes, 
 and into which the flagstaff is secured. This stone is the result of the 
 decay of the materials of the mountain, which no doubt at one time 
 entirely covered it, and is one of the links in the chain of evidence 
 which tends to prove the remote antiquity of the Island, and give 
 some clue to its geological age ; not indeed by itself, but when taken 
 in conjunction with other remains of a similar nature, such as tho 
 columnar piles on the Sandy Bay Ridges. I have seen many similar 
 boulders among the granite mountains of Cornwall, as well as on the 
 Shaj) Fells in the opposite extremity of England. Many years back 
 a murdor was committed on this mountain, under circumstances of 
 peculiar and deliberate atrocity. The two signalmen quarreled about 
 a woman living with one of them in the hut ; alter wrangling for some 
 time, the one who thought he hati most right to the goo<l favours of 
 the woman, threatened to shoot the other, and immediately went into 
 the hut to fetch his gun ; the other attempted to escape by hiding 
 among the crannies under the ledge, but he was followed and shot 
 down like a dog, and hurled from the summit to the rocks below, 
 where the body remained till accidentally discovered some little time 
 afterwards. The murderer was tried, but the evidence was not sufli- 
 ciently clear to hang him ; he was sent to the Cape of Good Hope, 
 and is said to have been subsequently hung for the murder of his wife. 
 The wretched woman who was the origin of this (juarrel, when on her 
 death-bed, confessed that the man was murdered ; shot in tho first 
 instance, an«I then flung down the rocks : the body was buried on a 
 turn in the road leading to the summit of the hill. 
 
 Near this mountain, and at a ronsiderable elevation above the level 
 
 «^f the sea, are several extensixe beds of lime stone of various qualities, 
 
 !i a vast quantity of lime and sand mixed together, which is, how- 
 
42 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 ever, nothing more than the soft limestones of the locality reduced to 
 this fonn by the action of the elements. 
 
 The haid and soft limestones scattered about in the various beds are 
 very similar to each other, and differ only in the quantity of lime they 
 contain. 
 
 When the limo is altogether decomposed, by the action of Muriatic 
 acid, th.e residual sand is found \o be identically analagous to that on 
 the different beaches round the coast, being evidently formed by the 
 comminution of the rock particles, subject to the never-ceasing action 
 of the sea. Gypsum is found scuttorod about in these beds, as well as 
 on the surface of the neighbouring hills, but it is very seldom seen in 
 large masses, and is generally very dirty, and not by any means very 
 pure, although it yields pretty good Plaster of Paris;— but a truce to 
 this shallovk^ geology. 
 
 On the sea face of the hill there is a deep fissure calI6d Sugar Loaf 
 Crack, at no great elevation from t"hc sea, in which, a few days ago, 
 was found a skeleton of a man, with an old coat, breeches, wig, and a 
 shoe, all in a tolerable state of preservation. The coat and breeches 
 were both scarlet, apparently of the time of George II., or the begin- 
 ning of the reign of George III.; the coat was frogged with white 
 braid, and had large slashed blue cuffs, square skirts, but without a 
 collar ; the wig was brown, tied up with hempen string behind in a 
 little club, scarcely long enough to reach the shoulders. It was 
 generally supposed that these were the remains of one of the East 
 India Company's pensioners or invalids, beyond which nothing further 
 was elicited, either by way of conjecture or conclusion. 
 
 But we have been detained long enough here ; let us round the point 
 and skim along the rocks in a westerly direction, till we come to a 
 rugged projection crowned with a battery ; and pass by Banks* Point 
 till we sweep into the little bay, and lay too for a while, to cast a hasty 
 look at the lines and fortifications, which close the entrance to the 
 deep and narrow valley opening into the bay. 
 
 This is one of the principal batteries on the Island, and the first one 
 passed on approaching the roadstead ; it was formerly the custom for 
 ships to send in a boat to ask permission to approach the anchorage 
 opposite James' Town ; this custom has however been long since 
 abolished, so that the captains of ships Lttve now nothing to prevent 
 them sailing into the port, and takiog the best berth they can find 
 vacant. 
 
 During the captivity of Napoleon, all the batteries and lines of for- 
 tification along the coast and its various inlets were strictly guarded, 
 or at least expected to be so ; but the commander-in-chief of the sta- 
 tion on returning in from a cruize one night, caught the trustworthy 
 centincls napping. He sent a boat on shore manned by some of his 
 nimble tars to attempt a landing, and put the courage and watchfulness 
 of the guard to the test ; they effected a landing, and succeeded in 
 scrambling up to the battery without any opposition, and finding the 
 coast all clear, they forthwith spiked two of the guns as a memorial of 
 their visit, and carried off with them some of the small arms and 
 powder, much to the amusement of the blue jackets, who regarded the 
 affair as a capital joke, — one indeed that would have been capital in 
 another sense, had the laws of war been fully enforced. The astonish- 
 nie:: of the guard next morning, when they aroused from their 
 
GUIDE TO ST. HELENA, 4d 
 
 slumbers, may be tasilj ^... ^ , _-: , .. . , ...i all armg gone, and 
 
 the gunpowder vanished, as it by magic ; their dreamy eyes beheld 
 imaginary cat-o'-ninc-tails and shadowy pibbcts looming on the waMs, 
 they each felt a crick in the neck and a fluttering in the breast, that 
 told them something was wrong, and evil would come of it. If hope 
 deferred maketh the heart sick, suspense long continued is not a 
 pleasant pastime, especially when cats and courtmartials, cells and 
 
 fibbets, clancc in a bewildering maze through the excited imagination, 
 lied with the goblin phantacies '* of coming events that cast their 
 shadows before." 
 
 They were not long kept in a sta'e of doubt and perplexity, the 
 officer in charge was broken and dismissed, the privates sentenced to 
 amuse themselves on the public works as best they could, in the 
 elegant garb of a prisoner of state. 
 
 The spiked guns received the nickname of the '* Royal Scorers, *' 
 and from them the regiment to which the men belonged have always 
 been honored with it, while holding watch and ward in St. Helena. 
 The ravine which opens into the little ba}' at Banks' is very deep and 
 narrow, and for the greater part of its course utterly barren, showing 
 little or no signs of vegetation till it reaches the slopes of Flagstaff, 
 where are a few patches of scanty herbage, which occasionally yields 
 a few mouthfulls of coarse grass in the wet season to the sheep and 
 goats, who come down from the neighbouring heights to chew the cud, 
 and ruminate on the miseries of long commons, and on short allow- 
 ances. 
 
 The scenery is diversified by the bed of a stream, mostly dry, the 
 ruins of several cottages once occupied by Chinese labourers, and an 
 old lime kiln now enjoying a dignified repose from its fiery labours, 
 on a bit of a cliff at the foot of a great lump of a mountain, whose 
 bare and rugged side is scored by the traces of what mi|,'ht have been 
 a road, when the lime quarries to which it led were worked. In addi- 
 tion, these attractions are the fortifications with all their necessary 
 stores, magazines, and barracks, with one or two soldiers to keep them 
 clean and orderly, who may be said to lead a quiet life, far removed 
 from the 
 
 ** Confusae sonus Urbis, et illaetabile murmur," 
 
 though not from the noise and bustle of the sea, which frequently 
 rolls with great fury among the rocks under the Batteries, where 
 several persons have lost their lives by attempting to land while the 
 sea was in an angry mood. Bidding adieu to this place, with a fair 
 breeze, we skim along under the lofty cliffs, by many a gully and 
 basalt wall, till we reach a deep indentation in the coast, where a 
 ravine runs up into the country, and loses itself in the hills ; there 
 is however, nothing very striking about it, unless it be its ' 
 suitable enough to the place, and highly melodramatic, ** 1 
 Bridge" — so called, it is said, from a murder having been wn,; 
 near a spot where the ravine is crossed by a military road 1 
 from James' Town to Banks' Batteries. The hills inclosiiij, : 
 ravine are lofty, and of considerable extent, producing however 
 nothing in the shape of vegetation, but wild tobacco, samphire, and 
 rushes, with here and there a stunted patch of withered grass, — ihey 
 are sheep walks nevertheless, and so far they appear to be appro- 
 
44 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 priatcly named ; for ccrtair ly they must walk about a long timo 
 before they find a nibble, to repay the toil in clambering up their 
 parched and stony sides. 
 
 Keeping along our course, and sailing round a rocky projecting 
 point, where a huge mountain ends abruptly in the sea, we find 
 ourselves in Ruperts Bay, opposite a long line of ruinous walls and 
 batteries, now neither useful or ornamental ; long piles of shingles 
 occupy the place of the Glacis, and fill up what was once the ditch ; 
 their palmy days have long since fled, and time has marked them for 
 his own by many a seam and rent, that speaks too plainly of his 
 rough encounter. 
 
 It is a pretty little bay, enclosed in by rocky projections, and the 
 terminating bluffs of the mountains, which form the valley opening 
 into it; the Hanks being lined with bold shelves and ledges of rock 
 and boulder stone, with several beds of black basalt, many columnar 
 fragments of which are strewed about the ledges and beach on the 
 eastern side. The waters of the bay are generally smooth and placid, 
 though they are often enough disturbed by the rollers common to the 
 cjast, which occasionally come sweeping in with great force, and 
 throw their surf and s])ray high up among the rocks and over the 
 shingles ; but when calm, with a bright sun above, viewed from some 
 of the many twists and turnings of a road running high up above, 
 they seem to realize the words of La Martine, who reminds us, that 
 he who made this world of ours, also 
 
 " Fit les cieux pour briller sur I'onde, 
 L*onde pour reflechir les cieux;" 
 
 fco bright and blue, and clear, and beautiful, are they in their undis- 
 turbed repose. 
 
 A few good strokes of the oar will bring us out of the bay, round 
 a sharj) projecting point of rocks, opposite the mouth of a little cove, 
 worked into the stony mass of the lava ledge which form ils boun- 
 daries, where the sea plays in no very gentle mood among the rocks, 
 scattered along what might be called a beach, were it not so small, 
 and so completely hemmed in by the wall-like faces of the mountain 
 bluff, towering above it in all the majesty of unspeakable naked- 
 ness. On the summit of this rugged headland, is a deserted battery, 
 and a barrack for the accommodation of the troops, who formerly 
 kept guard here ; they have not however, been used since the East 
 India Company's time, when it was customary for the Union Jack 
 to be hoisted on a flagstaff whenever a vessel was approaching the 
 anchorage. JJesides these ruinous batteries, is a curious machine, 
 consisting of two upright posts and a cross beam, of very ominous 
 appearance, which may very easily be mistaken by strangers for that 
 invariable attendant on civilization — the Gallows — or as a mark or 
 signal to let approaching strangers know the fate awaiting them in 
 St. Helena, if they should by chance or accident offend the dignity 
 of its laws, or stern moralily of its jurisprudence. It has nothing to 
 do either with law, manners, or morality ; it is however connected 
 with death dealing instruments, and forms part of the paraphanalia 
 of a condemned and time rusted gun, over whose ponderous breech 
 it stands by night and day, just as the workmen left it years ago, 
 perfectly luirndoss, but hurrying to decay like the aneient crane on 
 
L 
 
 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 45 
 
 tower of Cologne Cathedral ; a memorial of past time, and a 
 
 ricss of the perishable nature of the proudest works of poor 
 
 lanity. 
 
 ( .'ii the projecting rockg, elevated some considerable number of IVct 
 
 above the sea, is a baltory called Upver Chuhbs^ and below this 
 
 the remains of a scccnd, now in luins, having? botn damaged by the 
 
 surf some years ago, when an unusually heavy sea set in all round 
 
 the coast, and surpassed in violence anything ever seen on the Island 
 
 ■Vhile Napoleon was residing on the Island, the captain of the 
 . (JO, a man-of-war, took it into his head that he could run into the 
 bay without exchanging signals, or being noticed ; he was however 
 mistaken, for as ho passed the battery, he received a shot between 
 wind and water from one of the puns, which not only let him know 
 that he was observed, but that he could not pass with impunity, 
 and without paying the penalty of his temerity ; the soldier was 
 rewarded with a pension for his promptitude and determination ; and 
 the captain, by the trouble of plugging the hole in his damaged 
 sides. 
 
 On the eastern side of the little cove, are a range of buildings, 
 forming the barracks and various offices attached to Mundcn's Bat- 
 tery, which stands in a commanding position on a rocky ledge over- 
 hanging the water, where a bold projecting point of rock has been 
 levelled, and worked out sufficiently large to form one of the bcs-t 
 batteries on the line of the coast defences ; it commands the shipping 
 in the anchorage, as well as the greater part of Ruperts bay, and the 
 track of ships approaching the harbour, who would be liable to a 
 very unpleasant pej)pering on attempting to pass during a time of 
 war, or alarm ol danger, from the sudden appearance of anything 
 like an hostile force, who would receive a salute as they passed tliis 
 point, and a second with more civilizing etlects, from the guns percheii 
 on the summit of Ladder Hill ; therefore let them abstain from seek- 
 ing irretrievable rmn—abstineas iyilur damnandis. 
 
 Laud ye the Gods! for we are close at our journey's end- as soon as 
 we pass by that thick bed of vertical lava, forming the hard and iron 
 boundary of a little rock-strewn cove, we are at the lauding place, 
 where 
 
 ** The waves behind impel the waves before, 
 White rolling high, and tumbling to the shore." 
 
 liut before we land, take a passing glimpse at the rocky ledge under 
 the battery, and admire the sea as it goes rolling and foaming under a 
 sort of natural bridge, formed by the fall and erosion of some of the 
 softer stone, long since washed away by the rollers which break here 
 occasionally with great force, and dash in a sheet of dazzling sj)ray 
 among the splintery ledges on the side of the cove, and shingles bat- 
 tered about on the cave -like beach. 
 
 Right before us is a stone pile, surmounted by a lamp on an iron 
 post, from whence at ni^'ht issues a feeble sickly light, that serves tt) 
 moke (he darkness n litile more visible, and point i,ul to strangers the 
 position of the landing place, where they may step on ten a Jinna 
 without much trouble if they are al all nin.blp. or tho ?ca is in a 
 It if it shovild Ic runnii" ; . 
 
46 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 with the steps, there is a contrivance to help them out of their diffi- 
 culties, a little swing crane with a rope dangling at the end of it, by 
 which thev may pull themselves on the landing place, or out of the 
 water, if they should meet with a disaster and happen to slip between 
 the boat and the steps, on making the attempt to land. But we have 
 arrived at our journey's end, and I am no conjurer — **motuo astrorum 
 ignoro," — if you are not right glad of its consummation, and impatient 
 of the end of the chapter ; yea, even did I possess the eloquence and 
 subtle wit of those most unfortunate rhetoricians, Carrinas Secundus 
 and Thrasymachus, who talked themselves out of all reputation, I 
 could not persuade you to linger with me another minute along the 
 rocky coast of this iron-bound isle. Therefore to the landing let us 
 go, and allow me to whisper in your ear, after escaping the dangers of 
 this most romantic of voyages, that all my chatter and gossip has been 
 as true as cicerones chatter is ever expected to be, — that is, all truth if 
 possible, or as Juvenal has it 
 
 " Non est cantandum, res vera agitur," 
 
 all of which have been told to amuse you on the voyage, and keep 
 your spirits up while passing round such wild and dreary scenes. 
 
 The voyage is over, allow -me to hand you ashore, and call your 
 attention to the boatmen, who will be most happy to drink your health 
 in *• vin du pays" if they can get nothing better, or brandy, if you will 
 open up the fountains of your generous heart, and dole them out a 
 bountiful largess. 
 
 But the voyage is done, the day is almost spent, the mists are 
 gathering on the waters, and 
 
 ** Slow sinks, more lovely, ere his race be run. 
 Along Helena's hills the setting sun ;" 
 
 therefore make haste, for he drops below the horizon all at once, and 
 gives but little warning; get into the town as soon as you can, make 
 yourself comfortable, and remember that past troubles are soon for- 
 gotten, when present pleasure fills the cup of joy, for 
 
 *' When at the blythe end of our journey at last. 
 Who the de'il ever thinks o' the road he has past," 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 TELLS OF THB TOWN, A5D ALL THAT 18 THEBKIN. 
 
 " Dear God ! the very houses seem asleep, 
 
 And all that little heart is lying still ! — Wordsworth. 
 
 Well, here we are at last, on the wharf, in a direct line for the town, 
 and like good soldiers let us approach it in form, with due precision 
 and decorum ; on our left flank Is a broad expanse of sea, from which 
 you have just escaped, on the right is the coalyard, backed up by some 
 yawning rocks, and in the centre is the roadway, the great outlet for 
 all the traffic of the place, where may be seen an entertaining variety 
 of tubs, butts, and packages, ready for shipping, with occasionally a 
 splendid collection of long-legged fat tailed sheep from the Cape of 
 Good Hope, neat as imported, famous for yielding beautiful mutton, as 
 tough as boot leather, and as indigestible as an untaxed attorney's bill. 
 Here are little boys selling lollipops, and there are black-eyed girls 
 selling peaches four a penny, and juicy pears to quench your thirst, 
 nice and ripe, all for the high price of a copper halfpenny. It is 
 crowded with carts, trucks, and drays, barrows with ricketty wheels 
 and broken legs, squealing for want of grease, which whobble about 
 from side to side as if in a fit of intoxication, much to the alarm of 
 horses patiently waiting their turn to trudge ofl' with a load of rice or 
 sugar, when the dray to which they are attached has been filled by 
 the vociferous porters and boathoys employed in that pleasant pastime. 
 There are bunches of carrots pliant with age, high-flavoured turnips, 
 cabbages of portly size and most venerable appearance, reposing on 
 sundry bags of potatoes, tenderly pillowed on beautiful yams, and 
 sheltered from the sun by sundry bags of peppery water cresses, 
 which are generously sold to anybody willing to purchase them, at a 
 price astonishingly cheap to those who don't think them dear, and 
 which are confidently recommended by those wishing to dispose of 
 them. There, by the side of the wall, are heaps of cocks and hens, all 
 alive and kicking, tied by the legs in bundles, ready for shipment, of 
 all kinds and sizes, fatherly cocks and motherly hens, lustily crowing 
 and cackling in melancholy chorus, which harmonizes admirably with 
 the mellifluous (juacking of unfortunate ducks, wlio have been barbar- 
 ously kidnapped from their native gutters, and ruthlessly torn from the 
 waters in which they delight. Souatting about on tubs and butts, on 
 the low walls, on spars or bags of rice, are all the big-boys and little 
 boys, young men and old men, singly or in groups, — the lazzaroni of 
 the place, — with bare arms and legs, brown and brawny, burnt by the 
 sun and tanned by the weather, i<lling, smoking, sleeping, laughing 
 and bawling, looking out for jobs, stray passengers, or anything they 
 can pick up, as happy as cats in a chimney corner, aud merry as gnats 
 on a sunny day, easy-going souls whi» take the times as they come, 
 delight in capo wine, feed on fish oud rice, and luxuriate on uncut 
 
48 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 Cavendish ; who thhik but litllc of the future, and less of the present. 
 The shadowy times of tlie past when John Company doled out eatables 
 and (Ji'inl^^blcs at less than cost price, were the halcyon days of the 
 irentle lazzaroni, to which they look back with regret, and sigh to 
 think such pleasant times arc lied, and wonder why our cousin Cain 
 should have brought the curse of labour into this nether world of ours 
 — for their greatest luxury is sleeping in the sun, and doing as they 
 list, to kill time, idle through their lives, and slink at last unnoticed to 
 their nameless graves ! 
 
 But quitting this mingled scene of industry and idleness, we reach 
 a long low and dingy array of shed-like buildings, which constitute 
 the marine establishment of the Island ; to which may be added, one 
 or two huts, and a few military stores. 
 
 A few stunted trees have been planted all in a row in front of these 
 buildings, in the somewhat hopeless idea of their affording a shelter 
 when they happen to reach maturity ; but as the trees are of slow 
 growth, and withal very sickly, it will be many years before strangers 
 will be enabled to shelter themselves from the broiling sun, under the 
 grateful shade of the " greenwood tree." The attempt is laudable, 
 but the choice of trees might have been better. Number of boats 
 arc strewed about this part of the wharf, generally bottom uppermost, 
 to have them cleansed from grass and weeds. Many of these have 
 been bought at the slave auctions, at all kinds of prices, from one 
 shilling apiece, up to ten pounds, according as the market is glutted, 
 and the demand supplied — that is if my commercial ideas are not 
 in a state of obfuscation, as to the fluctuations of their marketable 
 value. 
 
 After passing a long red wall, which encloses the bonding yard, 
 we arrive at a little office, adorned with a little verandah, over which, 
 several creepers have been trained to climb and display their beauties 
 to the admiring eye of the passing stranger ; forming a leafy bower, 
 to conceal the nakedness of the building, and to hide a custom house 
 officer, who from the depths of his flowery lair, can peep all up the 
 wharf, and pounce upon passengers, like a spider on a blue-bottle 
 ily, as they plod on their way to the town. Happy the man who 
 has no forbidden fruit in his ])ossession, in the shape of taxable goods, 
 prime cigars, genuine cognac, or Yankee reprints of English books. 
 Therefore let no man either through the pardonable rashness of youth, 
 or the cupidity of trade, venture to purloin the invaluable copywright 
 of this inestimable book, and seek to rob a " British author" of his 
 due rights by repinting it in America — for be it hereby known, that 
 books born again in the land of liberty, are not admitted into this 
 favoured isle of beauty ; — 
 
 " He that steals tny book steals trash. 
 
 That not enriches him, but makes me poor indeed! 
 
 This, in conjunction with the law of the land, protects the poor sans 
 culotte of an author from the plague of plagiarism, and the unutterable 
 anguish of deliberate fraud, whereby his rights are grievously wronged, 
 and his imagined reward most shamefully curtailed of its fair propor- 
 tion. 
 
 But here is a sentry box, and there is the centinel, clothed in our 
 • old Anglo Saxon red, with his boots and bayonet glittering in tlu' 
 
GUIDE TO 8T. HELENA. 49 
 
 sun, in all the pride and panoply of peaceable war ; he will look at 
 you, but say nothing ; therefore pass over the drawbridge, under its 
 gibbet like frame, and you will find yourself butt up against the 
 breech of a big gun, unless you contrive to tumble over a pile of shot 
 into a trelliced sawpit in front of you ; proceed with cautious respect, 
 for you are in the midst of the soul appalling paraphanalia of war, 
 guns, bombs, shot, and shells, with all the et cetercu of that glorious 
 but destructive pastime of princes. 
 
 If, like Don Quixote, the spirit of romance burns within your soul, 
 or you are smitten with Uudibrastic valour; your heart will leap 
 with joy at such a scene ; or, if like Sir John FalstafF, you are 
 disposed to fight an hour by St. Helena's clock — here are materials 
 ready furnislied, and there are centinels ready armed to meet your 
 gallant onset ; but be cautious, and take the advice of Ossian — 
 
 '* Never seek the battle. 
 Nor shun it when it comes ; 
 
 for should you by any chance get licked, there's what the Yankeys 
 call a " calaboose," with lock and key, and bolts and bars, not far 
 ahead, where you might be popped in case of a defeat, to cool your 
 valour down to zero. 
 
 Proceeding along the lines, we pass an array of guns on the one 
 hand, and a row of banian trees on the other, beneath whose leafy 
 shade are hidden the glnrics of the Custom House, and the mysteries 
 of its long room. Straight before us is a pile of stones, with a group 
 of convicts, studying the principles of Macadam's theory of roads, 
 and endeavouring to prove beyond all possibility of doubt, that one 
 days work may be very easily expanded into three, without the uae 
 of Newton's Binomial theory, preferring expansion by continued 
 fractions, to the functional formula of Lagrange, as amplified by that 
 prince of mathematicians La Place. But hark ! to that dismal and 
 monotonous sound, like the asthmatic breathings of an afflicted giant, 
 and tremble at the bumps and thumps, and whacks and bangs, that 
 fall upon the startled ear, as if all the tribe of Esculapians were 
 patting him on the back, while in a violent fit of convulsions, or 
 labouring under an alarming attack of delirium tremens, induced by 
 over zealously worshipping at the shrine of Bacchus— proceed with 
 caution, peep into a dark and dismal smoky hole, look through the 
 reeking atmosphere within, gaze upon the lurid flame and fiery 
 showers of flitting sparks, shrink back appalled, shade your eyes, 
 and look again, behold, — 'tis Bob the blacksmith, in his smithey. 
 
 First impressions are said to be lasting ; if so, those who first 
 
 fazed from the deck of a ship on the rock-enclosed town of St. 
 lelena, will not readily forget its repulsive appearance ; short, 
 narrow, deeply buried in a chasm, overhung by threatening rocks, 
 blocked up in the distance by lofty hills; it looms from the waters of 
 the bay, like a town in the valley of the shadow of death, jK^opl^d 
 by living spectres, over whose melancholy fate the misty vapour.^ 
 ahed their tears of sorrow, and spread a watery veil to hide it from 
 the shrinking gaze of prying eyes, that fain would scan its gloomy 
 depths. 
 
 Its first appearance is repulsive, but who has not experienced the 
 nderful modifying powers of familiarity— every one can call to 
 
50 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 recollection, some one at least of his friends, when on first acquaint- 
 ance, at first sight he considered hideously ugly, which gradually 
 disappeared as acquaintance ripened into friendship ; a familiar face 
 is never plain when the heart is known ; as acquaintance grows, 
 plainness shrinks — it vanishes insensibly, and is no longer seen ; the 
 repulsive becomes attractive, Tthe shell is forgotten for sake of the 
 kernel,^ and St. Helena is no exception to the general rule— a rugged 
 coast conceals a wild, a lovely, and a varied heart. But the thing 
 is now to visit this interior, it has been the goal of all our hopes and 
 joys through many a lonj? and weary page ; the ramparts are before 
 us, and there right a head is the great black gate, yawning like 
 portals enclosing the entrance to the infernal regions— a dismal gate 
 to shut us from the world, and enclose us in a living sepulchre, 
 chained to the rock, and gnawed by the vulture ot inextinguishable 
 ennui ; woe betide the wretches on whom these portals close — the 
 words of Dante will be realized — 
 
 ** Per me si va nella citta dolente, 
 Per me si va tra la perdu ta gente, 
 Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch' entrate !" 
 
 "Through me ye pass into the city of woe, 
 Through me among the people lost for aye, 
 All hope abandon, ye who enter here !" 
 
 unless you are fortified with a long purse, and a leathern heart, 
 unused to the melting mood of love and kindness, ingenuous thoughts, 
 and liberal aspirations— adieu to independence, honor, faith, good 
 will and charity to all mankind ; the very atmosphere will blight 
 your soul, chill up the genial current of your thoughts, and make the 
 heart as tough and shameless, as it will the brain conceptionless and 
 imbecile — 
 
 " All hope abandon ye who enter here !" 
 
 No, do'nt do that ! try to get out of it as soon as you can ; second 
 thoughts are best — purgatory is not eternal ; a pater noster, and a 
 couple of Ave ^larias, will get you out of it if you pay liberally for 
 their recitation. Make up your mind to that — hope on, and deliver- 
 ance will as assuredly come, as it did to the Jews when they were 
 compelled to study the art of making bricks without straw in the 
 slimy flats of Babylon 
 
 But let us have a look at this terrible gate, and strain our eyes to 
 penetrate the dreadful mysteries of its construction. It is neither 
 Gothic, Greek, or Roman, Saracenic, or Egyptian ; its style is 
 mixed, and partakes more of the straight and crooked, than of the 
 sublime and beautiful ; the piers are stone, surmounted with a squat 
 segmental arch, plastered over with genuine Island lime to imitate 
 the real material. It is further adorned with a bas relief , where two 
 rampant lions, of hybrid shape, and most grotesque physiognomy, 
 appear to be dancing a jig for pure joy, at being trusted with the 
 support of John Company's shield of arms, or fighting like a couple 
 of lancers, for possession of the prize ; they are lions of a new^ 
 species, sculptured from life, in figure not unlike a dancing hippopo- 
 tamus in a fit of the lumbago, and of aspect so terrible, that it is 
 
GUIDE TO 8T. HELENA. 51 
 
 impossibTe for any sane man to undertake a description of their 
 
 appalling ferocity. 
 Though the gate of a " fortress," it is not formed for defence ; it 
 
 has neither turrets or embrasures, or loop holes lor deadly showers of 
 
 musketry, nor machicolations for torrents of molten lead, nor a 
 jK)nderou3 portcullis to drop down in the very nick of time, and stop 
 the career of mounted horsemen, by cutting them in hall' like Baron 
 Munchausens. Yet there are two gates under the arch, a big one, 
 and a little one, like the famous misers, who had a hole made for 
 his big torn cat, and a lesser one for his kitten ; this might be turned 
 to a very good and useful purpose— the great gate would do for the 
 great people of the Island, so as to allow them to sweep through 
 without curtailing their dignity, and the little one would answer 
 admirably to remind the poor plebians of the immense superiority 
 of parvenu brethren, who are great worshippers at the shrine of 
 social distinctions, and forget in the excess of their vanity that they 
 are themselves only — 
 
 "Hominera humuli quidem genere." 
 
 Here we are at last, safe through the gate, and what a scene 
 bursts upon the wandering eyes — the bioad parade, with its array of 
 walls, houses, offices, its two or three trees, the Hotel, and the 
 newly renovated church, with its tower and pointed spire, the main 
 guard room, and the guard itself, centry boxes, and the ** calaboose" 
 or lock-up for refractory topyers ; the gaul, a perfect original in its 
 way, and the two brass guns, with open mouths, protecting the Ord- 
 nance Offices ; the view up the street, with the bravery of the con- 
 sular flags, verandahs of the houses, and their steps jutting into the 
 street, combine to produce a picture of the thorough St. Helena 
 school— a judicious mixture of the formal styles of the Dutch and 
 English. 
 
 Salvator Rosa might do the rocks, Claude the sky, and Vandevelde 
 the sea, but the devil alone could paint the people. Look at the lines 
 and the terraced ramparts, with the centinels tramping along in 
 gloomy majesty, as it the care of the whole world was in their 
 keeping ; and here comes the field-ofl&cer down the street — 
 " Lumpedy, clumpedy, click, click, click," 
 
 to see the watchful guardians do their duty, and perhaps like the 
 Modenese of old, to chant an admonitory stave to cheer the lonely 
 centinel on his anxious rounds. 
 
 ** O tu qui servas armis ista mcenia 
 
 Noli dormire, moneo, sed vigilia." 
 That main guard room is a bakehouse, where young oflBcers arc sent to 
 be acclimatised and broken in, to enable them to bear up against 
 *' exposure to a tropical sun," a most ingenious contrivance, equally 
 well calculated to ** teach the young idea how to shoot," hot beds 
 being famous all the world over for the forcing of mushrooms, although 
 not for giving the same pith and flavour as those roared in their native 
 fields, whore the morning dew of nature gives them genuine healtli 
 and strength, even if it should be in terms of that rough an<l nady 
 code written by a French veteran, on the panels of a cei. 
 Estremedura, which says that a soldier should have — 
 
52 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA, 
 
 '' Le courage d*un lion, 
 Le force d'un cheval, 
 L'apetit d'un souris, 
 El I'humanite d'une bete I" 
 
 This is the prescription for making a man of war, what may be the 
 materials eraployed in a modern martinet, — who wastes his time " to 
 the lachivious pleasing of a lute," there is no occasion to call upon 
 the faculty to state, they are well known, and may be met with any- 
 where, and peradventure where not wanted, or expected. On the 
 right hand is the arched entrance to what may be called the courtyard 
 of the Castle, a building erected on the remains of the primitive forts 
 raised by the first denizens of the Island. 
 
 Many old fashioned vaults exist under the building at present, and 
 a postern gate may be traced in the walls. Rumour, a many mouthed 
 goddess, asserts, that during some repairs to the castle, one or two 
 skeletons were found in some of these vaults, and that they were the 
 remains of poor wretches, who had been starved to death in expiation 
 of some offence against the laws of the community, then ruling the 
 destinies of the place ; be the story true or false, it is given just as it 
 was picked up, for my gentle reader to make the most of; 
 
 *' Esta fabulilla, 
 Saiga bien o mal, 
 Me ha occurido ahora. 
 For casulidad!'; 
 
 The castle is built in the Dutch style, and contains one or two rooms 
 of pretty fair dimensions, which are reserved as the town residence of 
 tlie Governor ; the other parts are used for the Public Offices. 
 
 Sir Hudson Lowe used occasionally to reside here when business 
 called him to town, and once upon a time as the story books say, he 
 made an effort to sleep there, but was assailed by a legion of hungry 
 bugs who came out of all their secret places to feed upon the fiery 
 little general ; and being reinforced by squadrons of fleas, their onset 
 was so sharp, and their practice in front, flank, and rear so keen and 
 severe, that it was more than flesh and blood could stand : he jumped 
 out of bed, popped on his clothes, and sent for an old sergeant who 
 had charge of the place to accuse him of the fact. " Sirrah ! said he, 
 the beds are full of bugs 1" the old soldier made a most stately salute, 
 and replied with military dignity, *' It's unpossible^ sir." The 
 peppery general gave him a box in the ear, a kick on the breech, and 
 sent him flying down the steps quicker than ever he went before ; for 
 as the word "impossible" had been expunged from the French lan- 
 guage. Sir Hudson could see no reason why it should be retained in 
 the English. 
 
 Emerging from the Castle yard we pass a large banian tree, a centfy 
 box, and a bench for the idlers to lounge upon, pass two archways, 
 and find ourselves under the shade of two or three trees which par- 
 tially screen the '* Supreme Court " and the Police Office from sight, 
 which is so far fortunate as there is nothing about them very attractive. 
 On the opposite side of the plaza or square are the "St. Helena 
 Hotel," some Public Offices, and the Parish Church, an unpretending 
 structure with a very well proportione<l tower and spire, standing in 
 the most prominent position of the place, with its full length facing 
 
I 
 
 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 53 
 
 Mj entrance, forming a striking feature in the scene when riewed 
 
 ova the sea. 
 
 Facing the east end of the church is the Public Garden, and what 
 1 suppose may bo called the grand promenade of the towns-people, 
 whenever they are disposed to indulge in the luxury of a gentle stroll, 
 especially when by chance the regimental band may happen to play 
 -lere, on which rare occasions some half dozen people assemble to 
 
 ^ten to their ravishing strains. 
 
 A centinel used to guard the entrance of this little Elysium, with 
 lers to keep out all dogs and puppies, which orders were strictly 
 -iiforced, till on one unfortunate occasion, a young recruit made a 
 grievous mistake and stopped his colonel — so the report goes — who, 
 not liking to be confounded with the canine species, removed the 
 guardian, to prevent the recurrence of such a calamity in future ; the 
 Gentry box is empty, the gates open, so walk in and fear no inter- 
 ruption. Those who are fond of flowers will not find many to gratify 
 their taste, nor is there much fruit to please the eye, or tickle the 
 palate. It is laid out in a style suitable to the place, and that is 
 saying a great deal ; there are straight and crooked walks, some up 
 hill, some down hill, and others beautifully zigzagged for the gratifica- 
 tion of those who are partial to the serpentine line of beauty, here 
 you may enjoy yourself under the shade of clumps of lofty reeds, 
 admire the *' Margossa" with its lilac like flowers, and bunches of 
 clustering berries — the Cotton tree with its flower?, and snowy plumes 
 — Date, Palm, and the graceful Olive, its oily fruit and pretty yellow 
 flowers, reminding one of sunny Spain and Italy. The greater part of 
 the ground is covered with thriving beds of Guinea Grass, a little 
 Oasis of verdant green, in which the eye loves to rest, and seek 
 repose from the sunny glare of the streets, white-washed walls, and 
 painted houses In the centre of the garden stands a plain Tuscan 
 eolumn of Marble surmounted with an Urn, erected to the memory of the 
 men and officers of the Water Witch man-of-war, who died during her 
 career in the African waters, while cruising for the suppression of the 
 slave-trade, in which cause she has rendered very efficient service, no 
 name being better known on the coast than that of the Water Witch. 
 Ascending a rather steep path up the side of the hill overhanging one 
 side of the town, we reach the "Sisters Walk," an avenue of banian 
 trees, where may be enjoyed 
 
 " a pillared shade 
 
 High overarched, with echoing walks between!" 
 
 as Milton has beautifully written ; but singular as these trees are in 
 appearance, they are not the real banian, which throw down young 
 stems from their grotesque branches to form a family of trees around 
 the parent trunk. There are only one or two of this kind in the 
 Island, and these not very striking specimens of the tribe. The 
 " Sisters Walk" is a favorite resort for the young people of the place, 
 in great repute with the dark-eyed nursery girls, and llie-httlc inan- 
 nekii.s entrusted to their charge, as well as many spruce tiedglings with 
 the first down on their cheeks, who come each of them iighing like a 
 rirnace^ head ovei ears in imaginary love with the pretty giils, who 
 ten wilh delight to the "soft solder" liberally bestowed upon them. 
 
54 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 Staunch believers in la gaya Ciencia of chivalrous adoration, which 
 teaches them in the beautiful language of the troubadours, that 
 
 ** En cor gentil, amor per raort no passa." 
 "Within a gentle heart love never dies." 
 Leaving the garden and all its seductive charms, let us take a gentle 
 stroll up the street, the main street, and admire its orderly array of 
 houses, all neat and clean, and smart as new pins, as gay as paint, 
 whitewash and ochre can make them, with their little flight of steps 
 and rails, with here and there a smart verandah to keep away the sun 
 and rain. There is an orderly primness about this part of the town, 
 which reminds one of the streets and squares of the watering places 
 on the English coast, especially the more Cockney ones from Southend 
 down to Ramsgate. There are a few shops and stores, including a 
 confectioners and his never-failing follower an apothecai7 ; for certain 
 learned quidnuncs affirm, that puffs and pastry lead to pills, which 
 reminds me of Voltaire's reply to a conceited physician who told him 
 that coffee was a slow poison, — "ah, slow indeed; I have taken it 
 twice aday for these last sixty years, and am still alive ;" which may 
 be the case with patties, puffs, and pastry. There is one shop with 
 plate glass windows— think of that for St. Helena ;— quite the lion of 
 the town, without a rival to dispute the palm of splendour, or throw a 
 shade on all its blushing honors and attractions. That long building 
 with its tiers of verandahs is the Garrison Mess House, and looks for 
 all the world like a large slice kidnapped from the side of some opera 
 or theatre, its doors and windows behind the verandah appearing like 
 the openings to the private boxes ; and when the band by chance is 
 playing within, on occasion of some feast, the illusion seems the 
 stronger, and brings to mind iiichts with Jenny Lind, and Persian!, 
 Balfe, and Costa, and their heart-enlivening strains. 
 
 James' Town is supposed to be a musical place, and certainly, if 
 fiddling, fifeing, and pianoing, can give it such a claim, it is undoubt- 
 edly entitled to the honor; for these three instruments occasionally 
 allied to the "human voice divine,'' seem to wander like parapatetic 
 wakes from house to house, and make the nights hideous with their 
 tuneless dronings, and seem trying desperately hard to " fright the 
 Isle from its propriety." 
 
 It is a fearful and distressing thing to hear old friends barbarously 
 mangled, and so mutilated, that one can hardly recognize them again, 
 in spite of twenty years good fellowship and acquaintance — they cry 
 aloud for help, but there is none to aid them in their jeopardy — alas, 
 the cruel murderers are applauded and encouraged in their wanton 
 heartlessness. 
 
 The climate of James' Town is not very suitable to the delicate 
 heakh of pianos, they are mostly disordered in the epigastric regions, 
 and very often suffer severely in the chest, insomuch, that as the dis- 
 ease progresses, the voice undergoes an alarming change, the articu- 
 lation becomes deranged, and the enunciation of tone is so uncertain 
 and changeable, that no dependance can be placed upon the organs 
 from whence the sound is derived. It is supposed to proceed from a 
 too great relaxation of the fibres, primarily induced by over exertion, 
 not a little aided by the debilitatmg effects of ill usage, and direct 
 abuse, in the shape of most unmerciful whacks, bangs, and incon- 
 
CUIDE TO ST. HLLENA. 55 
 
 i'icrate thumps, thoughtlessly intllcted, while endeavouring to make 
 10 unfortunate instrument administer to the pleasure of an admiring 
 iditory. 
 
 It is much to be regretted there are no professional piano forte 
 
 1 tiers on the Island, an experienced hand would be sure of constant 
 
 Mployment, for what with the climate and the rough handling they 
 
 „'<:t, they are mostly in a disordered condition, and would be very 
 
 'hankful for a little professional assistance, more especially, if rest 
 
 and abstinence from labour should form part of the treatment. 
 
 Every one knows that time at St. Helena differs from that at 
 
 C Greenwich, in consequence of their difference of longitudes, which 
 
 may perhaps account for the singular fact, that the musical time at 
 
 St, Helena is different from that at London. To such an extent does 
 
 'lis curi us variation of time affect most musical compositions, that by 
 
 ■; insidious influence, melancholy and pathetic airs are converted 
 
 ito jigs of a very lively and novel character; marches are converted 
 
 .10 marvellous polkas ; anthems ingeniously turned into waltzes ; and 
 
 waltzes into what it is imjwssible to describe. 
 
 By its influence, *' Happy Lands" are made lamentably desolate; 
 "Red Cross Knights" completely discomfited; *' Gipsey Kmgs" 
 iurled from their thrones ; the "Last Rot-e of Summer," turned into 
 A Sprig of Shillaleh" ; and the famous " Railway Overture" reduced 
 at once to a dolorous piece of conventicle psalmody. All my phi- 
 losophy is CDmpletely nonplussed by this truly remarkable phenomena ; 
 it is one of those curiosities of nature, so inextricably mysterious, and 
 utterly incomprehensible, that its interpretations may be almost 
 ' jnsidered analogous to the difficulties of squaring the circle, or 
 iscovering the Longitude at sea without extraneous aid. 
 The grand street, what may be called the "Place de la Concorde" 
 of St. Helena, contains somewhere about thirty houses, if we perform 
 a grand arithmetical operation, and deduct from this number all the 
 shops, stores, and similar places, we shall have a remainder of some 
 ten or twelve houses, which are occupied by what I suppose must 
 be called the fashionable residents of the place, or in the language 
 of the " Court Journal," the enlightened aristocracy of the Island, 
 who may be truly said to be alike distinguished for their wit and 
 wealth, as far as they go. 
 
 Now, as society here is so limited, as to be amply sheltered in ten 
 
 or a dozen houses, a reasonable man, unacquainted with the ways of 
 
 the world, in the simplicity of his heart, would delude himself into 
 
 the belief were he a stranger, that they are all as happy and social 
 
 with each other as bees in a hive, or ants in their hill — that they 
 
 afford a beautiful picture of friendly feeling and iociability, mix with 
 
 each other as readily as milk and water, and practice all the generoug 
 
 courtesies of gentlemanly bearing, friendly sincerity, and christian 
 
 kiii'liiL'ss, frecii from the pollutions of all assumed consequence, low 
 
 11, and a vuljj'ar affectation of what they call standing on their 
 
 y, but alas, it is not so. ""^ 
 
 There arc the Dumpys for example, who once had a relative— a 
 
 iptain, cannot think of associating with the Stumpys, whose first 
 
 )U8in, the great man of the family, was only a lieutenant, for many 
 
 '>ars on half-pay, w ith a largo family of small children to maintain'; 
 
 while the Lumpys, whose maternal grandfather had at some remote 
 
5G GUIDE TO. ST HELENA. 
 
 lime, married a daughter of the second cousin of no less a dignitary 
 than a " member of council ;* ' cannot think of mixing in anything 
 like a public place with either the Durapys or the Stumpys. The 
 Lumpys however, have no very great objection to visit in a private 
 way both the Dumpys and Stumpys, eat their '* Devils," drink 
 their wine, play at cards with them, or do anything of the kind sub 
 rosa, on the sole condition, that the Lumpys may cut the Stumpys 
 and Dumpys whenever they meet them in public places, or in the 
 front sreet; they however, for decency sake, giving each other a 
 careful nod in the back streets, if none of the Lumpys' aristocratic 
 friends are sufficiently near to witness their friendly recognition. 
 
 Then the Glumpys, who endeavour to make a great show, are 
 rivals of the Mumpys, who are very musical, and twice a year get 
 up a grand ball of half a dozen people, to which they invite two or 
 three infantry officers, who go to ornament the room, and dance in 
 spurs, and are, in consequence, expected to escort the young ladies 
 of the family to a fancy fair when one occurs, or at least, once or 
 twice to church, in full regimentals, which is a great triumph tor the 
 Mumpys. But as tl>e Glumpys are determined not to be outdone by 
 the Mumpys, they maintain their consequence by giving a dinner, 
 and a counter ball, to neutralize the effect of that given by the 
 Mumpys, taking great care to have it when there is a man-of-war in 
 the bay, so as to enable them to secure a few naval otHcers, to give 
 it a consequence which it would not otherwise have had ; and at the 
 same time to secure, as a matter of course, a return invitation from 
 the gallant captain, to see the ship, and partake of his ready hospi- 
 tality, which leaves them again on equal terms with the Mumpys, 
 neutralizes their rivalry, and keeps them quiet for the next twelve 
 months to come. 
 
 The Lumpys are delighted to meet the Glumpys in the street, 
 and chat with them about the weather and other interesting matters 
 of the kind, which is courteously reciprocated by the Glumpys, till 
 in an evil minute, they catch sight of the Mumpys coming out of the 
 garden, which immediately induces them to quit the Lumpys, and in 
 spite of their rivalry, to join company with the Mumpys, and agree 
 with them in a laugh at the awkward pretensions of the odious 
 Lumpys, who really have no sense of decency, and will persist in 
 stopping them in public, although all the world knows they are not 
 on visiting terras ; for say the Glumpys, the Lumpys have no right 
 to presume on a mere private acquaintance, but what can be expected 
 from such low people, to which the Mumpys assent for some how or 
 other ; the Mumpys are under obligations to the Lumpys, for sundry 
 loans of money, which the Mumpys have spent without any prospect 
 of repayment, in maintaining their dignity, and keeping themselves 
 on an equality at least with the Glumpys. 
 
 The eldest miss Dumpy has set her cap at one of the young 
 Humpys, which leads the Stumpys to wonder however the Dumpys 
 can demean themselves by noticing young Humpy, who is only the 
 son of one of the Company's " uacovenanted" servants, while she 
 belongs to a family that once had a captain in it. While the Stumpys 
 are equally surprised that one of the Dumpys should ever think of 
 presuming to catch one of the young Lumpys, which also becomes a 
 tender j)oint with the Glumpys, because if the Lumpys do from any 
 
i^LLDIu TO. ST HELENA. 57 
 
 sudj tunnection with the Dunipys, they can never think of associating 
 even in private with thr Lunipys, who are thus going to sink them- 
 selves on a level with the Dumpys, who may be very good people, 
 but certainly cannot be recognized in society by Glumpys, because the 
 Mumpys have a great objection to the Dumpys, and indeed to all such 
 low people as the Sturapys and the Humpys ; all of which coming to 
 the ears of the Humpys, Dumpys, and Stumpys as well as the 
 Lumpys, they affect every one of them, to despise the Glumpys and 
 the Mumpys, because Glumpys* father was only a purser, and Mumpys' 
 ' lerk, in the Honorable Company's service; and therefore they have 
 lung to boast about, although they make such a fuss about their 
 lity. And so all the Lumpys, Dumpys, Humpys, Glumpys, 
 inpys, and Stumpys, are at loggerheads with each other as far as 
 tiii-y can be, to live in tlic 'ame place without getting up a civil war, 
 which they would do, were it not that the Lumpys, Glumpys, and 
 ^['ifupys are under government, and the Humpys, Dumpys, and 
 iin|>ys in the merchant line, who would be as fierce and inveterate 
 each other as the factions of the Guelphs and GhibcUines, the 
 inchis and the Neri, or even as the Kabblegauers and Hoeckens, 
 ay nothing of the Montagues and Capulets— if they had it in their 
 vver, all of them forgetting the quartraiu of Hudibras which tells 
 - that 
 
 "The truest characters of ignorance 
 Are vanity, and pride, and arrogance ; 
 As blind men use to bear their noses higher. 
 Than those that have their sight entire." 
 
 lily ! it may be said of them as an old French author has well said 
 other Gotharaites, his countrymen: — 
 
 "lis nous encanaillent verilablement, en afl'ectant d'etre ncs tre^ 
 uts, et tres pui«sans seigneurs !" — for bad examples are catching 
 -liong the multitude. 
 
 Once more, and yet once more, we wend our weary way in the 
 ;)loration of the town ; and lo ! we have stumbled in sight of the 
 irket, or to be more correct, upon the Markets— for there are two ; 
 ui.e for general purposes, and the other for fish. They are both curi- 
 osities in their way, and really deserve more time and attention than I 
 can bestow upon them. The Fish Market is a puzzle, it is built in a 
 style peculiarly its own ; Salisbury Cathedral has been universally 
 admired for iis light and airy appearance, and so may be this interest- 
 ing fabric ; the Alhambra is rich in the multiplicity of its details, and 
 famous for its innumerable columns ; here also are plenty of slender 
 shafts, and the details are elaborately wrought, like parts of the 
 Alambra, or Westminster Abbey, in beautiful chequers denominated 
 •;ico work, which is as remarkable for its openness, as it is for the 
 -'ant simplicity of its construction. 
 
 i^ike the Coliseum at Rome and the Greek Theatres, it is open at 
 
 , to admit the general rays of a " tropical sun," which is supposed 
 
 strengthen the llavour of all kinds of fish, from the diminutive five- 
 
 _'cr up to the |>onderous albicore. Like the beautiful temple at 
 
 "'', It stands on a rock, and has a current of water beneath 
 
 h ^metimes assumes the api)earance of a torrent, with the 
 
 -c uf haviii'-'- n romantic bridge at lio j^riul (li>tHiu-i'. to give 
 
58 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 variety to the scene, and increase its manifold beauties. This stream 
 is not yellow like the waters of the Tiber, or silvery like the Thames, 
 but dark and dingy as the sluggish river where Charon plies his 
 wherry, and drives a dismal transit trade, with wandering souls on 
 their pilgrimage to-they know not where. This stream is sacred to 
 Cloacina, where at the witching hour of night, that goddess and her 
 naiads enjoy their revels, and foot it featly to the murmur of the 
 splashing waters, as they boil and bubble on their headlong course, 
 to join the all-boiling sea. What a combination of beauties, the light 
 and elegant market with its open roof and innumerable columns, the 
 rocky stream beneath, and the bridge— that famed Rialto, where 
 merchants most do congregate to settle their affairs, and pay the 
 Custos Rotulorum of the market his fee of five per cent, on all the 
 business done. Open-roofed and lattice-worked — how appropriate for 
 a place where flying-fish are sold, side by side, with sharks and dol- 
 phins, and that unctuous feast-making fish the turtle. Let us not 
 linger in the market place, but escape from the smell offish, and meat, 
 and carbon yielding vegetables, to trace the wonders of the high 
 street, and see what it will bring before the eyes. The road is rough 
 and stony, up hill, and tiresome ; but proceed, and leave the church- 
 yard all behind us, naked and desolate places as they are, sans tree or 
 shrub to hide their ghastly trophies from the public gaze. Pass by the 
 barracks and its row of trees, and plod along by the wall of what has 
 been facetiously called the Botanic Garden, till we reach "China 
 Town," the second city in the island, till this time overlooked by all 
 who have obeyed the fury of their Cacoethes scribendi, and written of 
 St. Helena and its many wonders 
 
 Oh ! Montgomery Martin, fie for shame — to say the Island has but 
 one town : and oh ! Sir Walter Scott—to say that town is an *' incon- 
 siderable village," when there are two, both of them densely populated 
 and increasing every day — at least in numbers if not in wealth and 
 wisdom. China Town! who can describe its beauties, thread its 
 labyrinths, enjoy its unsavoury smells, penetrate its many mysteries, 
 elucidate the idiosyncrasies of its motley inhabitants, be edified by the 
 gabble of its people, smile at their curious customs, — who can do all 
 these — yea, who can do them in the limits of a guide book — not I 
 faith ; and therefore I shall not make the attempt. There is the 
 terrestrial abode of the " celestials" ot St. Helena — huts, little huts, 
 sheds, and bothies, jammed together, put in rows face to face, a yard 
 apart to make a street, — a narrow passage leading to a blind alley, 
 with dirty courts and passages so narrow, that two crummy people 
 would be puzzled to pass. A complicated net-work of alleys, made 
 up of mud covered huts, one-half sans doors, and the other half sans 
 windows, with open smokey kitchens, piggeries, and fowleries. There 
 are two Jos houses, one neglected, and the other not much attended 
 to — both furnished with Gods, and plentifully festooned with cobwebs, 
 which the God in his wisdom never removes, nor the " faithful" in 
 the plentitude of their idleness. 
 
 One of these Jos houses is a little bit of a room over the ground 
 floor, hardly big enough to swing a cat in, though ample for the 
 residence of a God— such a God too ; so fat, and laughing, with a 
 dropsical belly, pudding checks, angular eyes, and a nose twin 
 
QUIDS TO ST. HELENA. 59 
 
 brother to the navel on his belly. He looks as if he had just dined 
 and partaken of a smart desert, with an unliroitcd allowance of all 
 good earthly things to be had here below ; is in the best ol humours, 
 and ready to comply with any prayer that may be addressed to him — 
 if he could, he would, his look's proclaim it— he is the essence of 
 good nature and happiness. 
 
 To ask is to have ; he would make rain for one man, hot weather 
 for another, make pamblers lucky, and replace the losses of the 
 unfortunate, and work more miracles than a regiment of Winhinp 
 Madonnas ; his benevolence is unbounded, but his power of acting 
 up to his generous intentions — C'est une autre affair, much to the 
 grief of the pig-tailed brethren. His throne is resplendent, with 
 gold, carving, and cobwebs, which hang in beautiful festoons from 
 pillar to pillar, and veil even the Godhead himself; a portly spider 
 was busily weaving his star like web over his very face, when 1 had 
 the honor to gaze on his glories. 
 
 He is a golden God, gilt all over like gingerbread shepherds at 
 Bartlemy fair, and looked so resplendent in spite of his dust, that he 
 tickled my fancy. I longed to possess him, and offered a price for 
 his Godship, but John Chinaman was loth to part with his bauble, 
 and said with a shrug of the shoulders, " nie no sellee de Goddee?"' 
 These chinamen keep up most of the habits, and all the propensities 
 of their countrymen. They wear their tails, or an apology for them, 
 but twisted round their heads under their hats to keep the boys from 
 having a sly tug at them as they pass along. They are great 
 merchants in a small way — know the value of money, love it as their 
 souls — delight in hoarding it in their huts — make its possession the 
 study, and be it said, the labour of their lives, for they are not a 
 lazy people, any thing but that. They dabble in everything, from 
 fireworks and crackers— ^M^a chuh hiang pau ; rice-paper pictures — 
 ting chi wha ; tea — cha yea ; sugar — hivang tang ; down to lollipops 
 and sweetmeats — ki koh yang tang kwo ! and have a finger in every 
 pie where a penny is to be got. They are the remnants of some 
 three or four hundred introduced into the Island by the East India 
 Company, now reduced perhaps to a couple of dozen, mostly old 
 and wrinkled ; they have grafted a new breed on the old stock of 
 the Island, and will leave behind them a generation of " china faces" 
 to swell the motley mixture of the population. They are excellent 
 gardeners, and when in their prime, were good and useful workmen , 
 their peculiar imitative faculty enablhig them to turn their hands to 
 anything. They are a steady, harmless, inoffensive people, partial 
 to feasts and good living however ; fond of their national vice of 
 gambling, as far as they can amongst themselves — given a little to 
 illicit and unlicensed trading, but in other respects, orderly in their 
 pursuits, and persevering in their peculiar avocations, shrewd in 
 their judgement, and alive to every move played in the lottery of 
 life. 
 
 Their broken english is highly amusing, and difficult to understand 
 by persons not well used to tlieir peculiar terms and expressions, and 
 the whimsical way in which they mutilate and shorten a word of its 
 fair proportions ; they keep up ihoir own language in conversation, 
 
 I in writing, as may sometimes be seen, by little handbills stuck 
 
60 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 about, on occasion of a funeral, or other matter important to tliom 
 selves, when they wish to call their community together, and gather 
 the clan for a grand confabulation. 
 
 But adieu to the Chinamen, let us proceed on our peregrinations. 
 Here is the ruins of a brewery, once famed round the Island for tlie 
 production of ale, that was to supersede Cape wine, and be sold to 
 thirsty souls at sevenpence per pot ; but the beer would not go down, 
 and the brewer failed. Its old boilers are kicking about among th' 
 rocks, a melancholy memorial of the luckless attempt to persuade tL 
 good people of the Island of the superior virtues of home brewed beer 
 — in vino Veritas was their belief, and they stuck to it to the last, 
 even as they do to this day. 
 
 On our left is a great hole in the side of the mountain, from whence 
 the stone was obtained to build that great square house there before 
 us, which is the hospital of the place, a serviceable institution both 
 for the inhabitants, and the numerous sailors of all nations, who seek 
 a refuge within its walls, from the attacks of the scurvy, and other 
 diseases which " flesh is heir to." Adjoining it is the military hos- 
 pital, with a noble banyan tree in the court yard, at once ornamental 
 and useful. After passing a few huts, the last in the town, we cross 
 a dilapidated wooden bridge, and continue along the road, parallel 
 to several extensive gardens, where the vine spreads its luxuriant 
 green leaves over extensive trellices, beneath which its luscious fruit 
 hang in many a tempting cluster, while the date with its massive 
 clusters of golden fruit, rears its lofty graceful head, as if in rivalry 
 with the elegant and more slender cocoa tree, both of which unite to 
 add a pleasing feature to the little oasis, squeesed in as it were, among 
 the rocks and naked hills, that tower up to a giddy height above, and 
 by force of contrast make the scene more striking. 
 
 The road soon turns imder a knob of rocks, and winds through 
 bushes of prickly pear and samphire, passes a snug little cottage with 
 an avenue of pomegranate trees, a grape vine trellis before the door, 
 placed on a little plateau scooped in the bluff head of a rock, and 
 then follows its course under a rugged hill, till it turns abruptly round 
 a rocky point of extraordinary appearance, where a bold and striking 
 view bursts at once upon the sight. 
 
 Here the James' Town valley terminates, and divides into two 
 forks, one of which leads along a grassy valley into the country, and 
 the other ends abruptly in a mountain mass, with a waterfall that 
 drops down two hundred feet. It is a scene of singular grandeur and 
 wildness, bold in every feature, and striking from its inexpressible 
 ruggedness. 
 
 On the right is the almost perpendicular face of High Knoll, spring- 
 ing up as it were, abruptly out of the yawning chasm, and rising to the 
 height of nineteen hundred feet, by a succession of a number of beds 
 of lava, and clinkery layers of calcined stone, with occasional beds of 
 red and fiery marl between, with here and there a clump of rush or 
 streak of samphire to catch the eye and save it from the charge of 
 utter nakedness. Along these red streaks of marl, sometimes a few 
 sheep may be seen, marching in single file under the vertical faces 
 of the lava beds, and not unfrequently a few head of venturesome 
 cattle pick their way along narrow paths that seem impassable from 
 
GUIDE TO ST. IIELBNA. 61 
 
 .low, where they look ao if hangin;^ by the rock, and in danger of 
 iipping at every step. Right in front rises a perpendicular wall of 
 r ,ck at the extreme head of the valley, fn m which, a stream of 
 water leaps into a shallow basin, scooped out of the rock at its base 
 by incessant acti( n ; after a tiood, when the stream ia full, it makes a 
 noble fall, and fills the valley with its spray, which then seems as if 
 the reeking vapours of a Geyser were boiling up from unknown 
 depths beneath, and harmonises admirably with the wild and naked 
 rocks enclosing it around. At other times when the falling body of 
 water is very small, it appears to be blown at once into a light and 
 feathery spray, which ftuats above it like a shadowy plume, or 
 festoons of clouds, where all the rainbow hues shine like diamond?, 
 and sparkle in the sun, with every variety of colour and brilliance, 
 as it whirls about before the wind, and vanishes '* into thin air" like 
 mist before the morning rays. 
 
 Opposite the bluff of High Knoll, rises the conical point of Peak 
 Hill, to a con«i«lerable height, which encloses the Water Fall between 
 it and High Knoll, forming the deep and narrow valley, or gorge, 
 in which it is placed, which is, however, cut oU from direct connec- 
 tion with the rocks of the fall, by the interruption of Cat Hole, a 
 ' emendous chasm apparently rent at some remote time in the face of 
 ..e mountain, and dividing into two portions, which increases the 
 landeur of the scene, and adds much to its almost unspeakable 
 ildncss. 
 
 Hanging over the road, is a singularly broken and shattered mass 
 ot ro<ks and clinker, rising to a consideiable height, intermingled 
 with a thick bed of marly sand, thrown up at an angle of about torly 
 degrees from the level by some sudden and violent convulsion of 
 nature. This bed of sand is of different colours, and regularly 
 laminated, as if it had been deposited at the bottom of some lake or 
 pond ; as many as fifty layers may be counted when it has been 
 recently washed by the rains, which gives unimpeachable evidence as 
 to the violent convulsions that have rent and shattered the mass of 
 burnt and vitrified rock in which it is bedded. Not far from this 
 spot, at the head of a deep gorge which terminates one of the lateral 
 forks of the main valley, is a second Water Fall, of no great magni- 
 tude, but in a very picturesque and striking position ; it reminds me 
 of the fall at Lanberis, near Snowdon, and runs down a ledge worn 
 in the rock as that does, till it finally escapes in the valley, and joins 
 with the main stream, which supplies the town with the necessary 
 !omentso indispensible for the comforts of the inhabitants. 
 
 As a true and faithful guide, thus I have carried you to the end of 
 iie town, and also to the end of the valley in which it is placed ; the 
 Uiole comprehending a journey of less than a mile; after which, 
 walking ceases, and climbing commences — a capital point of dcraarea- 
 uon and limit to the stury, to aftbrd us all a breathing time ai.d niake 
 preparations for a lengthy ramble in the next chapter. / 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A SCAMPER ROUND THE COUNTRY. 
 
 Hat li Helena i uischa clieichna 
 Min cul-hhat deiem mahhbuba ; 
 
 Tho' Helena tbe bounds that confine thee are narrow, 
 Yet sincere is the love of thy people for thee ! 
 
 It is too hot to walk, and the hills too steep to take pleasure in a 
 pedestrian tour; once in the country, as it is called, all very well, but 
 the difficulty is to get there, for who is fond of miles of climbing, 
 which must be done before we can get out of the gully in which the 
 thrice renowned James' Town is built. Therefore to horse ; let us 
 ride, yea, let us gallop as fast as our high mettle racers can take us, 
 for we have much ground to get over, and little time to do it in. 
 
 Here are boys with the horses ready waiting, all saddled and 
 bridled, as fine a collection of scarecrows as ever assembled together, 
 but according to their owners — each of these nags individually is the 
 very best in the Island, they all have their advantages, the bony ones 
 are light and fit for use, the stumpy ones are strong capable of the 
 work, the lanky ones are famous for getting over the ground, and the 
 broken winded ones are recommended for steady careful riders, war- 
 ranted not to run away. They are blest with all the equine vices ; 
 amongst them are irresislable roarers, shiers and tumblers, kickers 
 and breakdowns, but not a bolter in the lot ; they are like the farmers 
 nags in Hudibras— 
 
 ' " well staid and in their gait, 
 
 Preserve a grave and majestic state !" 
 
 But here comes my own especial nag in all the glory of his hoar 
 antiquity—even the renowned Sidi-Sonipes-Knickerbocker-von donder 
 and blitzen, more famous than Bucephalus of Alexander the Great, 
 valient like Bahieca the pet steed of the gallant Cid, fleet as Napo- 
 leon's Barb Marengo^ beautiful as humpbacked Glocester's charger 
 White Surrey^ and elegant as B.osinante, to say nothing of the 
 patient Dobs, belonging to Doctor Daniel Dove, of happy memory. 
 
 In colour he is neither black or white, or brown, or chesnut, nor a 
 dapple grey, nor a piebald, but a mixture of them all — a sorrel palfrey, 
 knows every road in the country, and is as good a Guide as his master, 
 with less loquacity, will go any where he is taken, up hill or down, 
 can climbvwhen required, and slide on particular occasions ; goes to 
 prayers, as may be seen by his knees, and is blessed with an excellent 
 appetite, not given to play unseemly tricks, shy at a mouse, or unceri- 
 moniously bolt — unless it is home to his stable, which he knows how 
 to find with unerring certainty from any part of the Island ; he is grave 
 and decorous in his manners as becomes his years, sedate in appear- 
 ance, and n«ver fails to do his duty, although he don't like being 
 
GUIDE TO 8T. HELENA. 63 
 
 hurried, ami j)rercr8 his own ways to anybody else's — like a good old 
 Knickerbocker as he is. 
 
 But let us be going, so mount, gentlemen mount, — whow ? Knic- 
 kerbocker, steady my lad, wait till all the gallant party are mounted, 
 and then away at once belter skelter up the hill— como on my gallant 
 knights of the rueful countenances, stick to the manes and cruppers, 
 keep your spurs out of the flanks, and all will be well if nothing 
 happens to the contrary — so hurrah for the Road. 
 
 Here wc are, under an ugly projecting clump of rocks, like a 
 
 edge balanced on its sharpest side, and threatening to topple head- 
 ing down with every puflf of wind— but there it sticks, and there it 
 has stuck, hard and fast for many a year, and may it long remain 
 there, for should it fall and thunder down from its elevated position, 
 great would be the smashing and squashing in the helpless town 
 below. The lava rocks hereabouts on the face of the hill, are bold 
 and picturesque, although not of sufficient magnitude to attract any 
 particular attention when seen from the town, as they are then merged 
 m the general mass of the mountain. Passing the Barracks, on the 
 summit of the hill overhanging the sea, at an elevation of some six 
 hundred and thirty feet, we scramble along a rocky road, a sort of 
 short cut, till we find ourselves on a broad and sloping plain, strewed 
 all over with stones and boulders — being in fact, covered with the 
 splintery fragments of the lava and basalt rocks which forms the hill, 
 and which every where show themselves on the surface of the ground. 
 
 It is a dreary place, with little or nothing to relieve the eye, but 
 immense clumps of prickly pear, which are plentifully scattered 
 about, and with the samphire, constitute the whole vegetation within 
 its stony limits, except at certain times of the year, when a small 
 and beautiful ice plant creeps over the ground wherever it can find an 
 inch of soil to fix its roots in. It has a little flower like a daisy, and 
 the leaves generally of red colour, are covered with minute pellicles, 
 full of water, which shine and glisten in the sun like so many 
 diamonds, and look very beautiful when seen on the slope of some 
 ravine, in such a position, that the sun's rays are refracted, and 
 scatter about a splendid display of the prismatic colours. 
 
 That little cluster of huts and cottages scattered at random on the 
 face of the hill, is a village rejoicing in the euphonous name of Half 
 Tree Hollow. 
 
 A few trees hereabouts would be both useful and ornamental, they 
 would hide the utter nakedness of the place, and yield a shelter from 
 the fierce rays of the sun. The jackson willow should be planted 
 here, it is a tree of rapid growth, and as serviceable as it is really 
 ornamental — in two or three years a pleasing avenue would run along 
 the roadside, and shut from view the stony nakedness of the place, 
 and make tliis road as pleasing as any in the Island, while in its 
 present state it is a perfect purgatory, and as tiresome as if the whole 
 •pirit of monotony had been concentrated on the spot — and all this, 
 merely because a few miserable sheep are allowed to roam where 
 they list, and eat down any young tree that may show itself— a piece 
 of tollv that cannot be parrallod in any place but St. Helena. Let us 
 turn down this bye path and follow its sinuosities, till wc reach the 
 summit of the rising ground before us, then pause for a refresher^ 
 and look around. 
 
04 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 There is High Knoll, rising up from the stony ground, with a 
 gradual slope to a ounsiderable height, crowned with its tower and 
 buildings like an old castle, with a few fir trees scattered about on 
 its lower side; beyond that is the distant points of the central chain 
 of hills, the lofty grounds in front of Plantation, and at our feet, the 
 deep ravine of Break Neck Valley, running down lo the sea, spread 
 fur and Wide around us, while at the back are several hills, partially 
 covered with wood, wild and rocky, streaked with rush and briar, 
 and valleys of considerable depth, narrow and rugged, with a patch 
 of grass here and there straggling in liie mud, accumulated in their 
 bottoms, 
 
 VVe are on the broad slope of ^eiv Ground, a mountain what 
 separates Break Neck from Young's Valleys it is quite naked, with 
 the exception of an enclosure, which is the Chinese Burial Ground, 
 pretty well filled with graves, and decorated with several tombs to 
 the memory of the departed "celestials" — for the Chinese practice 
 the laudable custom of extra mural burial, which England with all 
 its boasted sense and civilization, is only now beginning to understand 
 and apply. 
 
 From this spot. New Ground, we wind along a road, passing by 
 several cottages, and under the edge of numerous rocks, till we 
 come in sight of the Friar and the valley taking its name from 
 tb.at lonely stony hearted individual, then descending the gentle 
 slope of a hill, we cross the valley, and ascend the opposite hill, 
 with a place called Eternity before us, from whence we obtain a 
 fine view of the whole slope of Svnny Side, as well as of the 
 various hills and valleys in its immediate neighbourhood, which 
 are highly diversified, affording every variety of light and shade, 
 woods, grassy slopes, and terraces, with extensive views, command- 
 ing the heads of some of the distant mountains, often dimly seen 
 through the mist and clouds, while all hereabouts are bathed in u 
 flood of continuous sunlight. 
 
 The minor valleys hereabouts, of which there are many, are very 
 beautiful and pleasingly picturesque, diversified as they are by every 
 variety, shape, and sinuous form, with little stroiuns of water slowly 
 trickling along their grassy beds, and through nijujy a clump of rush, 
 lofty nodding reed, and broad beds of the wild yam, with its dark 
 green leaves, and bold lily-like flower— the symbol of the Island, 
 not inappropriately chosen, as these flowers generally grow where 
 water shows itself— a valuable element in a rocky isle like this. 
 
 The heads of the valleys, which generally end abruptly, are 
 beautifully wooded with a variety of trees, including the weep;ng 
 willow, which droops its elegant plume-like masses among the broad 
 and lofty leaves of the aloe, the tall stems of the Indian shot, the 
 sulphur-colored buds of the rock rose, the graceful fern, and broad 
 leaves of the wild fig, accasionally combined with the gentle olive 
 and cork, straggling budleigh, and the wild bramble, which produce 
 detached spots of local scenery of inexpressible softness, and enchant- 
 ing beauty, aiibrding a fine and striking contrast to the general 
 ruggedness of the mountain lands, by which they are enclosed and 
 surrounded. 
 
 Leaving Sunny Side, and its neighbouring valleys, we ascend a 
 
GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 65 
 
 nloping road running along a grass/ ridge, which leads int 
 western parts of the Island, where we may indulge in a good «< 
 along the ruad, and feast the eyes on many a bit of pleasant tctiiuf;, 
 look down many a valley as we pass, and trace tne outline of the 
 hills and niountains as we gallop round their bases. The valleys are 
 wild and rugu'ed, but not the less beautiful ; the hills are of singular 
 form, and fantastic outline, clothed in colours of every imaginable 
 hue. 
 
 Naked rocks rise abrubtly from the mountain sides, and show their 
 heads above the brushwood ; fearful precipices hang over the deep 
 ravines, and plains of burnt-up grass show themselves in irregular 
 patches among the slopes and chai'ms of the valleys, while tracts of 
 utter barrenness, lonely and desolate, fills up the general scene, 
 and shows dame nature in all her strange variety. Proceeding along 
 ihis road, we pass High Peak, a conical hill, rising from the slopes 
 or tail of one or two valleys, running gradually up to a point, while 
 on the opposite side facing Sandy Bay, it drops down little better 
 than a sheer precipice to the rugged grounds below, leading to the 
 chasms and ravines in that wild and extraordinary locality. 
 
 From High Peak we pass by several interesting spots and romantic 
 glades, till we reach the extremity of the road at a place called 
 •' Church Yard," which Guvcrnor Beatson gravely assures was pro- 
 duced by the agency ot a water spout. It takes its name from having 
 some far fetched resemblance to tombs or monuments ; but these 
 remains are much more like the gigantic fossil bones we see stowed 
 away in museums of geology, than anything else. 
 
 These stones are nothing more wonderful than basaltic masses, 
 acted upon by the atmosphere and the tooth of time ; they are gra- 
 dually aecoraposing and crumbling away by the very same process by 
 which they were produced — there is not a sound stone amongst them. 
 
 There are several extensive ranges ot pasture land in this part ol 
 the Island, which are however very much broken by the intersection 
 of gloomy ravines and shallow valleys, which subdivides them into 
 many parts, and highly diversifies their general aspect. These little 
 plains are mostly on the broad summit of lofty hills, as at Man and 
 Horse, High Hill, and Horse Pasture, which are all at a very con- 
 siderable elevation above the level of the sea, and notwithstanding 
 their direct exposure to the unchecked heat of the sun, are cooler by 
 several degrees than the valleys, which is easily accounted for, by 
 their exposure to the unbroken current of the trade winds. On some 
 are a few trees, mostly gum wood, with here and there a clump of 
 firs, to shelter the sheep and cattle, who pick up a precarious exist- 
 ence on these elevated plains. They all command extensive and varied 
 views, with a great sweep of horizon, and a corresponding expanse 
 of the ocean — 
 
 Beautiful, sublime, and glorious, 
 
 Mild, majestic, foaming, free; 
 
 Over time itself victorious, 
 
 Image of eternity. 
 
 On their most elevated points are the remains of huts and Iook>out 
 houses, long since deserted and dismantled, now only occasionally 
 used by farmer lads on sheep pounding days, when the whole of the 
 
66 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 hills are sroured in every direction, and the sheep hunted up to these 
 places to be numbered, and the young ones to be marked, or other- 
 wise appropriated by their owners. 
 
 Pursuing our way among the stones forming Church Yard, we soon 
 arrive at a ridge, from the summit of which there is a very fine and 
 striking view, which ever way wo turn. Looking backwards, the 
 eye wanders over the hills and valleys forming the boundaries of *' Man 
 and Horse;" to the South is the sea, with '* Speery Island" glittering 
 white and silvery in the sun, and affording a beautiful contrast to the 
 wild character, and lurid colour of the rock masses forming the coast 
 immediately in front of it ; while to the North, a noble prospect of 
 rock, ravine, hill, valley, and mountain height lies spread before us, 
 including the fearfully wild and romantic valleys of Sandy Bay, its 
 naked mountain?, crowned with lofty piles of columnar basalt of 
 strange and startling aspect, with a long stretch of the sea-coast 
 cliffs, washed by a silvery fringe of foaming and ever-restless surf, 
 which stand boldly outlined against the deep blue sky. 
 
 Descending from this ridge, we enter a narrow path, just wide 
 enough for a horse, and wind along it through narrow openings in the 
 hills among huge stones and boulders, and through an unlimited allow- 
 ance of the wild Bringal, and its prickly rival the bramble — the most 
 thriving plant on the Island, familiar to every Englishman on his 
 native hills and moorlands, far away at home, — 
 
 ** Thy fruit full well the schoolboy knows, 
 
 Wild bramble of the brake ! 
 So put thee forth thy small white rose, 
 
 I love it for his sake. 
 
 The road winds by several romantically placed cottages, up hill and 
 down hill, under the brow of the lofty rocks, forming a portion of the 
 great central range of the Island, where we have at our feet con- 
 siderable hills, like Burlston's Ridge, with others of the same char- 
 acter, and that singular mass of basalt called " Lot," perched on the 
 terminal point of a ridge, rising altogether to the height of 1450 feet, 
 from which diverges in every direction, a series of small, but wild and 
 singular lateral valleys or chasms. Continuing the road, from under 
 the steep face of High Peak, winding up and down across the hills, 
 we reach a spot of singular beauty, called •' Fairy Land," which com- 
 mands an extensive and very striking prospect of the whole scenery 
 in this vicinity, comprehending in its range Lot and its numerous 
 ravines, the whole of Sandy Bay with its wild and dreary mountains, 
 White Hill, with a series of barren hills, terminating with the sullen 
 mass of the Bam ; then sweeping over the valleys it commands — the 
 bold headland of Sheep Knoll, the wooded heights of Rock Rose, and 
 the great central range, including Diana's Peak, with its sister hills 
 and tributary valleys ; containing every variety of light and shade, 
 from the dazzling glare of the meridian sun, to the melancholy gloom 
 of partial darkness, when shrouded in a changing pall of morning 
 mists and driving clouds. 
 
 Descending from the pleasant heights of Fairy Land, we pass along 
 a rough and stony road, under the steep face of a rocky hill, till we 
 reach a more pleasant path, on which we may canter at once into the 
 romantic wilds of Sandy Bay, and explore the whole of it« strangely 
 
GUIDE TO. 8T HELENA. 67 
 
 varied scenery ; but there ig no time to do so now, tberefor« we will 
 cross it, and ascend a sloping road, which leads into another, running 
 up and down, and round the twists and bends of the tail ends of 
 numerous hills, all very picturesque in themselves, till we pans under 
 the lofty wood crowned height of Sheep Knoll, a mountain of very 
 bold, yet pleasing aspect, from which we ziz zap about, and gallop 
 along the skirts of several deep valleys till we finally ascend the ridge, 
 and reach a gap cut through it, like an open tuunci, forming the 
 entrance to Rock Rose Farm from this road, and a means of access 
 to the northern part of the Island, from which we originally started 
 on this our headlong scamper. Here once more let us pause, and 
 take a final view of the scenery we have passed through on our route 
 — which from this point will be seen under a totally different aspect, 
 and be scarcely recognized by a stranger 
 
 The most striking features are the rugged outlines of the hills, and 
 the rich variety of colours distributed about among the rock masses, 
 and earthy slopes of the various hills and ravines, forming the 
 general basis of the scenery. To which may be added, the pleasing 
 effect of little isolated patches of grpen grass and rushes in the 
 gullies of many of the ravines, with here and there a stunted tree, 
 and clustering bushes oi furze and bramble, with the green 
 slopes of the hills creeping down from the wooded heights, and 
 cautiously pushing forward as it were, a lew straggling points of 
 sickly grass, like videttes, to find the limits of demarkation between 
 perpetual verdure and eternal barrenness. 
 
 The rocky mountains in this neighbourhood are everywhere indica- 
 tive of volcanic agency, and many of them appear in the distance 
 like mountains of vitrified clinker, crumbling into dust, with every 
 variety of tint and colour, scattered among the slopes into which the 
 debris falls— being of almost magic brilliance when lit up by the 
 glowing splendour of the noonday sun. 
 
 To these, the green and gentle slopes of the woody range on which 
 we stand, dotted over as they are with flocks of sheep, white as 
 snow, and numerous cattle chewing the cud among the straggling 
 furze, afford a complete and a most welcome contrast to the dreary 
 nakedness around. 
 
 Leavijig the woody grounds of Rock Rose, with its hedges of 
 fuchia and roses, we pass along a rural road with a high bank on one 
 side, and a thick hedge full of wild flowers on the other, which 
 winds in long zigzags along the sloping sides of the hills, and by the 
 tail-end of several valleys and gorse covered ravines, in parts com- 
 manding noble prospects, tills it leads us after many turnings through 
 the grounds of a snug little cottage called Shipways, where, let us 
 halt and take a look around, for some of the hills have shut out 
 sights Worth seeing. 
 
 Let as gallop along this grassy road, till it loses itself in an open 
 common, windmg with many sinuosities along the valley slopes, 
 through many a clump of gorse and bramble, with here and there a 
 scattered root of lovely hyacinths growing wild; turn round by this 
 ruined cottage, and scamper dong the grass till we reach a slope, 
 coTcred with stones of all sizes, and there you will see, and soon will 
 hear the sonorous tones of the famed *'Bell Stone," — a rock as 
 musical as the statue of Mcmnon, an<l like that one, requiring the aid 
 
68 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 of human ingenuity to make it speak — a blow, and hark ! how it rings, 
 like the solemn peal of a death knell. 
 
 Its tone was keener once, but an enthusiastic enquirer after the 
 mysteries of nature, being anxious to investigate the principles of 
 sound, like a child with a drum, he thought the best way to settle 
 his doubts, was to break the stone, and see what was inside, to girc 
 rise to its wonderful melody ; and by so doing, luckless fellow that 
 he was, he spoilt its tone, and got himself laughed at, if not cursed 
 for his pains. 
 
 Most of the lava's on the Island, especially the fine dense ones, 
 are very sonorous, and it would be an easy matter to construct out of 
 them an excellent " Rock Harmonicon" on the same plan as that 
 which delighted the astonished Londoners for so many years, said to 
 have been made from slates dug from the stubborn bowels of the 
 high and mighty Skiddaw in Cumberland, 
 
 But leaving. this musical wonder, let us proceed as near as we can 
 to yonder lofty hills, Great and Little Stone Top, and take a glance 
 at the fearful sterility around them ; never mind your necks, for 
 ** nought is never in danger" as the proverb says ! therefore ride 
 boldly up as far as you can ! 
 
 Here are deep ravines of unmistakable dreariness, and barren 
 plains of unmitigated sterility, with nothing to relieve the eye, but 
 here and there at remote intervals a solitary bush of dogwood, with 
 its large daisy-like flower and ashy grey leaf, with now and then 
 the apparition of a wire bird or two, that utters a shrill cry, and 
 either takes to its wings or legs, both of which it well understands 
 the use, till it disappears in the distance, and leaves us to our lonely 
 selves, like hermits in a wilderness. 
 
 These two mountains are rarely visited, as they are at a great 
 distance from the town, and have no very easy approach, but they 
 will amply repay the trouble of a journey to their summits, especially 
 that of Great Stone Top, which overhangs the sea, and presents a 
 fearful precipice to the astonished view of those who climb its rugged 
 stone strewn sides. 
 
 The crannies in its sea face are inhabited by thousands of the 
 White Bird, an aquatic species, as remarkable for their stupidity, 
 as they are for their dexterity in fishing. But time is pressing, let 
 us gallop back, and once more resume our route, pass through 
 Shipway's, and follow the road till we mount the crest of a ridge, 
 forming one of the boundaries of Amos Vale, the upper part of 
 which is very picturesque, broken up into a series of little hills and 
 valleys, and beautifully wooded, crowned in the back ground by the 
 lofty height of Acteons Mount, and Diana's Peak ; while on the 
 opposite side it is enclosed in by several lofty hills, green to their 
 summit, and of very pleasing outline ; it is a little spot of consider- 
 able beauty — 
 
 *' Where spring in all her charms perpetual reigns, 
 And banished winter Hies the blooming plains !" 
 
 Being thickly wooded, and most of the hilly slopes covered with 
 underwood, there are plenty of the feathered tribe to keep the place 
 alive with their minstrelsy.; merry averdavats in numerous flocks, 
 and wild canaries piping out their merry strain in all the fullness of 
 ecstacy ; — 
 
GUIDE TO 6T. llELliNA. 69 
 
 • 1 15 natures hymn divinely sung, 
 With which fair Eden often rung ; 
 The very hymns they sung so well, 
 Ere Adam wept !— or Eden ftll !" 
 
 Crohsing the vale, we follow a road which winds up the opposite 
 hill side, through a little jungle of gorse, which leads us to the top 
 of a broad plateau commanding an extensive view of the country 
 beneath us, and a dreary prospect over the naked and extensive 
 grounds of Prosperous Bay, with the flank of Longwood in the 
 distance ; but leaving these scenes behind, we ascend the hill, till we 
 find ourselves in a narrow lane, closed in by stout hedges of Budica, 
 which conducts us to a pretty little cottage on the summit of a 
 tolerably extensive mountain, where we find a wild and neglected 
 garden full of flowers, a grove of trees — a noble prospect, and the 
 entrance to a continuation of the road which leads us away from this — 
 
 "Cottage on a cliff," 
 
 down a gentle declivity, round many windings and turnings, by little 
 valleys and hills, and snug retreats, ensconced in little woods, till 
 we enter the road leading to Longwood at Hutts Gate ; but stop good 
 reader, or we shall miss the most picturesque road in the Island — 
 that through the cabbage trees, up to Diana's Peak — known as 
 Nanoleoris Road. 
 
 Ascending a zig zag path just below the east side of Alarm Hill, 
 we soon find ourselves in the midst of a little clump of fir trees, 
 through which the road passes, and runs up a gentle acclivity till it 
 enters into a gorge, or cut on the side of the mountain, surrounded on 
 all sides by trees, shrubs, plants, and plentifully strevvd with a soft 
 and velvetty grass, on which, it is a pleasure to ride, after escaping 
 stony roads and slimy ways, such as we have this day had to encounter. 
 
 In many places the road is closed in by clusters of beautiful fern, 
 matted together with bramble and creepers, straggling among the 
 trees and underwood, to which additional effect is given by one side 
 of the road being overshadowed by the richly wooded base and slopes 
 of the peak range of hills, and their attendant gullies, many of them 
 perfect jungles, dark and impenetrable, but very striking and effective 
 in the general features of the scenery, which, however, on the whole, 
 is more picturesque and beautiful, than wild and romantic. 
 
 Proceeding along under the pleasing shade of the trees and ferns 
 nodding in the breeze above our heads, we reach a pretty little 
 plateau on the summit of the ridge, immediately under the lofty head 
 of Diana's Peak, where a dark and sombre road diverges off and 
 creeps under steep banks, buried among a luxuriant growth of fern and 
 bramble, to a cottage farm called Newfoundland, the loftiest residence 
 in the Island, ftrom whence, it winds through numerous thickets and 
 jungles of furze to Sandy Bay. 
 
 The view from this little plateau, is exceedingly beautiful and 
 diversified, for, from its great height, it commands an extensive 
 prospect, not only over the rocky desolations of Sandy Bay, but over 
 a country quite as dreary, extending from the Stone Tops, over 
 Prosperous Bay, to the cloudy heights of Flagstaff, and the lonely 
 Bam. It embraces in its circuit of vision, a numerous and bcanti- 
 fVilly varied series of grassy hills, wooded gullies, and deeply shaded 
 
7.0 GUIDB TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 ravines, witli little farms and cottages scattered about in picturesque 
 positions ; with here and there the lofty head of some distant peak 
 buried in the clouds, or as may be occasionally seen, and which is 
 more beautiful, peering above them, with the sun shining on their 
 rocky summits, while all beneath is plunged in shadowy darkness. 
 
 High above it rises the head of Diana's Peak, the loftiest in the 
 Island, beautifully wooded to the summit, which terminates in a mere 
 peak a few feet in width, from whence is obtained a beautiful birds- 
 eye view of much of the scenery arcund us, as well as of the many 
 wild and picturesque gorges furrowing its steep and precipitous sides, 
 filled up with an impenetrable matwork of jungle, under which, in 
 the rainy season, torrents are heard boiling and foaming to the valleys 
 below, where they unite their waters, and rush on headlong to the 
 sea. But leaving this interesting spot, we pass through a ruinous 
 little gate, and gradually descend the grassy road till the ridge 
 narrows itself to no more than eight or ten feet in width, at which 
 point an unrivalled prospect bursts at once upon us— the whole sweep 
 of Sandy Bay^ and mountains enclosing it, with a long alternation 
 of ridge and valley in the other direction, backed by the wooded 
 height of Plantation, the tower-crowned summit of High Knoll, and 
 the distant peaks and mountains on the coast. 
 
 Lookmg in the direction of Sandy Bay, we have far away below 
 us at our feel, two or three deep and beautifully wooded gorges, ter- 
 minating in open picturesque valleys, all luxuriantly green and verdant, 
 with cottages scattered about on gently swelling hills, which rise 
 gracefully from the centre of the valleys, and subdivide them into 
 sinuous forks which lose themselves among the little knolls strewn 
 about with a liberal profusion. In the centre of the chief vale rises 
 up a round and gradually sloping hill, crowned with a little cottage 
 in a clump of trees, while in the valleys sweeping round its base, are 
 two or thiee farm houses, with woody holms around them, long lines 
 of the graceful plantain, coffee groves, and hedges of the light and 
 feathery bamboo, nodding like plumes in the breeze, and forming a 
 pleasing contrast to the tall firs and glossy leaved oaks, which are 
 here both numerous and luxuriant. 
 
 On the left of the view is the steep sides of the central ridge of 
 mountains, with the two peaks of Diana, and Acteons Mount, termin- 
 ating in the abrupt cliff of Sheep Knoll, all beautifully wooded, with 
 here and there patches of grass, and acres of straggling bramble, 
 among which the lichen covered heads of numerous rocks show them- 
 selves above, to break the continuity of uniform verdure, and heighten 
 the effects of the scene by a pleasing and harmonious variety. 
 
 On the right is Mount Pleasant, with its little cottage peeping out 
 from among the trees, crowning the top of the ridges into which it is 
 pleasingly broken, showing green fields and slopes, enlivened by 
 sheep and cattle cropping the tender herbage, with little glades of 
 homely beauty, where we might almost expect to find a picture such 
 as this — 
 
 " An open field — a cottage in a glen — 
 An auld wife spinning at the sunny en'. " 
 While beyond are the groves and wooded clumps of Fairy Land, 
 hanging on the mountain's brow like scenes of earthly beauty sus- 
 
GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 71 
 
 pcnded in the air, the floatiug home of sylphs and gnomes, and 
 shadowy behigs who hold their revels there, and flit and skim from 
 hill to hill, and vale to vale, from grove to bower, and wood and glen, 
 where- 
 
 soft mossy lawns 
 
 Beneath these canopies extend their swells. 
 Fragrant with pcrfumod herbs, and eyes with blooms. 
 Minute, yet beautiful." 
 
 Where Queen Mab and all her fairy train disport them, midst these 
 favored realms of theirs — 
 
 " Starred with ten thousand blossoms." 
 
 The whole picture is closed in, and framed as it were with long^ 
 lines of dark and rugged mountains, whose jagged and rugged out- 
 lines loom heavy and dismal against the deep blue of the cloudless 
 sky. Rocky hills and ravines, the naked beds of mountain streams, 
 chasms, deep rents, and sheer precipices, with columnar piles and 
 vertical walls of basalt, eminences covered with fragmentary stones, 
 yawning fissures, and slopes of sand and marl of every hue and colour, 
 red and lurid as if but just vomited from the straimng jaws ot a volcano 
 in the last fitful throes of an eruption. 
 
 The savage grandeur of the mountains in which the lonely vale is 
 enclosed, appears almost as if they had been thrown up in a freak of 
 nature, to show her wonderful and illimitable power, to contrast at 
 once the wild sublimity of her mountain labours, with the peaceful 
 beauty of the vales enclosed within them ; heightened as it is by the 
 broad expanse of the glassy sea, at this distance seeming calm and 
 smooth and azure as the sky, asleep in all its vast immensity, while 
 glowing in the splendour of the noon day sun. 
 
 Bathed in a flood of sunlight the scene is lovely, when all its wood* 
 and trees and grassy slopes glow bright and beautiful, with endless 
 play of light and shade for ever changing, while now and then a cloud 
 skims along the sky, and throws its fleeting shadow over hill and dale, 
 sweeps up the mountain side and disappears ; the ears are full of 
 sound, of life, and joy ; a myriad crickets fill the air with merry 
 chirpings ; " the insect youth are on the wing" ; the birds are piping in 
 harmless rivalry with many a varied song and note and cadence, rich 
 and sweet; then is the "sunshine of the breast," the heart beats 
 high with ioy, the eyes are glad ; the pride of "fatherland" breaks 
 out in exultation — 
 
 " Oh happy he, whose foot hath never strayed 
 O'er the sweet threshold of his native glade." 
 
 " Oh 1 felice chi mai non pose il piede, 
 Fuori del la natia sua dolce terra ?" 
 
 But a change comes on ; yon speck of cloud in the horizon grows 
 bigger and biKger, spreads over the blue vault of heaven, and throws 
 a oeep and darkening shadow on the slumbering waters ; it hangs 
 loose and filmy in fleecy festoons of feathery mist, which sweep along 
 till they touch the hills, entangle in the trees, curl down its woody 
 sides, rubh into the ravines, whero whirling and tumbling about they 
 gather strength and density, are caught by the gusty winds, and rush 
 
72 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 headlong up the valleys, sweep round the hills, and shut the distant 
 scenes from view. 
 
 The wind blows steadily on, and a canopy of cloud is all around, 
 the vales arc deep in shade, the mountain outlines loom dimly through 
 the mist, the sea has disappeared, the sun light gone, and all is black 
 and sad, yet no less wild and boldly beautiful, with gloomy grandeur 
 in the mountains, dark and dismal as they are in this their boldest and 
 most striking aspect, The winds are up, the mists are thick around 
 us, and drive in gusty eddies many a shower of ** arrowy sleet," that 
 shuts the scenery from our view, and wets us to the skin. 
 
 Mount then, and let us scamper down the mountain's road among 
 the trees, wind along the vale, sweep at full speed up the gentle hill 
 and ridge that leads us on to Francis Plain. 
 
 This place is a curious flat of table land, perched on the top of a 
 considerable hill, with other and loftier hills around it in all direc- 
 tions. Its sloping sides run down to meet the valleys, and are rather 
 steep, while to the north, it is altogether precipitous, and drops down 
 into a dark ravine of great depth and ruggedness, into which a stream 
 of water tumbles headlong from the valley forming its eastern side. 
 
 This little plain is the drill ground of the local militia, who 
 assemble here- 
 
 in all the pomp and circumstance 
 
 Of glorious war' 
 
 some six or eight times a year, and go through the evolutions of a 
 field-day as well as they can ; and after the fatigues of the day, make 
 a gallant and determined onslaught on sundry eatables and drinkables, 
 in the shape of bread and wine, collected there for this especial 
 purpose. These militia men are of all kinds, sizes, and colours ; 
 black, white, and tawney, and are not a little proud of their occupa- 
 tion. They have a battery of mountain guns, which they handle very- 
 well, and occasionally make a grand display of their skill, by open- 
 ing a terrific fire on a luckless target, placed across one of the valleys 
 near the plain, which they generally contrive to riddle with holes, 
 and sometimes send all to " sraithreens," when they fire at it what 
 they call a — Salv-O. 
 
 It is worth a days climbing to go and listen to their drums and 
 fifes, and above all to see the antics of their cymbal crasher, who is 
 not content to bang his two tin pots together in the usual way, — he 
 has a soul above the common herd of cymbal thumpers 1 
 
 He beats them smash, above his head, then crash they go behind 
 his back, thump and bump between his legs, and under too ! head, 
 arms, and legs are all in motion, up and down and round about, like 
 whirligigs ; he keeps up such a din and clatter, that the very drums 
 are smothered by the noise, which is enough to frighten Belzebub 
 himself, and split the very rocks he walks upon. 
 
 But let us be going, and turn down this road in the jaws of the 
 valley there, where it winds along a deep and yawning precipice over 
 Cat Hole J and under lofty ledges of rock, piled one above the other 
 to a great height, scantily clothed with patches of dry withered 
 grass, rushes, and the prickly pear, the Kernous del Inde of the 
 moorish races on the African coast. 
 
 Following the road down the hill till we reach the bottom, we will 
 
GUIDE TO 8T. HELENA* 73 
 
 turn off to the right, cross a narrow valley with a little itream, and 
 wind our way up a ragged path under the Briars, a little cottage 
 once occupied by Napoleon, and pass through a labyrinth of little 
 lanes round the base of a naked hill, and then descend by a zig zag 
 path to the road we originally left, which takes us on to James' 
 Town. Among the* hedges round the Briars, arc large beds of that 
 bold and saucy plant the red geranium, with its dashing flower—a 
 kind of pet among the English folks at home, where it may be seen 
 in every house, from the tiny pot of the poor half-starved weaver, in 
 the smoky atmosphere of spittal fields, to the parterres and slopes of 
 Royal Windsor, where it grows in many a clump to please the eyes 
 of Royalty. 
 
 But dash along the road, and laud ye the Gods, for there is the 
 town — let !is scamper by these gardens, with their grapes, and dates, 
 and cocoa nuts, so green, and cool, and nice — 
 Mid rocks, and sands, and barrenness, 
 
 How beautiful to see ; 
 The wild j)alm in its desert stress — 
 
 The solitary tree 1 
 
 Dash over the rough and stony road into the town, like a gang of 
 Stark moss troopers ^do-wn the street, among the cocks and hens, 
 and dogs, and pigs, and all its odd et ceterasy till we reach the long 
 wished goal of home ; rein up— dismount, and then — adieu 1 Messieurs 
 It H Cavaliers ; and thanks to thy stout feet, oh Knickerbocker, for a 
 lant run of five and twenty milefi ! 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 WHICH IS THB BEST IN THE BOOK, AND TBKATS OP RELIGION- 
 ORTHODOX AKD l^ETERODOX. 
 
 How cozy this old world might be. 
 If man with man would but agree, 
 And draw from heavenly laws above, 
 A creed of universal love. 
 
 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 nCH C05T11KB A PROFOUND ENQUIST INTO THE LKAENING AND 
 LITXBATUKC OT THE ISLAND. 
 
 O dark, dark, irrecoverably dark.— Milton. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A TISIT TO KAPOLEON • TOMB. 
 
 O gloria ! vincitur idem 
 
 Nempe, et in exilium praeceps fugit. — Juvinal. 
 
 Si ta tombe est vide Napoleon! ton nom ne remplit — il pas 1' uni- 
 verse ? Et tu plus heureuse que Alexandre, qui batit tanl de Villes, 
 ton tombeau fait vivre tout unpeuple ! — Visitors' Book, MS. 
 
 1 had almost made up my mind to be dreadfully dolorous on occasion 
 of this visit — lamentably pathetic, and fearfully sentimental ; but a 
 change came o'er the spirit of ray dream, which induced me to alter 
 my intentions. 
 
 A guide has nothing to do with the feelings, the joys and sorrows, 
 aspirations and impulses, of the pilgrims under his charge. "What 
 they see but once under the excitement of novelty, he sees every day, 
 and cannot therefore be alive to the stirring influence of passion ; — 
 joy, grief, or venerationfor fallen greatness ; all the throes and throbs 
 of all the chords that tune the human heart, are nought to him ; — his 
 FEE alone is all he thinks about ! What say ye, therefore, after this, 
 Messieurs les pelerins ? will you ramble to the Tomb, and take me 
 as your Cicerone, vostra servitore umilissimo — saru aW ordine alVora 
 appuntata, e ande.remo ovunque vi place? 
 
 Leaving James' Town, we tramp up a long and tiresome road, cut 
 on the side of the hill, which gradually rises to a considerable eleva- 
 tion in order to reach the summit of the ridge, leading in this direc- 
 tion both to the tomb and Long wood. On clearing the town we find 
 ourselves in a position to look over all the houses, yards, and gardens, 
 and pry into the back slums of the place if we think fit ; but as there 
 IS nothing to reward us for our trouble we will pass on, taking a bird's- 
 eye view of the Barracks, the Botanic Garden, and all the naked 
 grave yards that disfigure the place, and disgust both eye and heart 
 to look upon. 
 
 The eye is, however, soon relieved, by wandering over the little 
 gardens under the lofty hills, at the end of the valley, where iong 
 trellisses of vine, groups of chirimoyas, fragrant rose apple, prolific 
 peach, and elegant plantain, make up a little jungle ot fruit trees ; 
 among which may be seen many a patch of flowers, filled with rose 
 and geranium, overshadowed by the tall and graceful date, with its 
 clustering bunches of amber- coloured fruit, with here and there a 
 solemn cypress waving in the breeze, sad and mournful, like a lonely 
 guardian'of the dead. 
 
 But proceeding on our way, the attention is soon arrested by nobler 
 objects breaking into view, the distant hills show themselves, clothed 
 in wood and glowing in the sun, bright and beautiful, or seen through 
 
GUIDE TO ST. HELEN'A. 77 
 
 the miity liaze, they loom large and wildly grand, indefinite in form, 
 and seemingly ot vast extent. 
 
 The naked front of High Knoll, the rocky slopes and graegy top 
 of Peak Hill, the table land of Francis Plain, with its wild romantic 
 gorge and waterfall are all in sight, be&ides the lofty h.ll, with stony 
 •ides and wooded top, that blocks our way and turns us up that tra- 
 verse there, to gain the ridge, from thence we get another view in an 
 opposite direction, extending down a rugged fork of Ruperts Valley, 
 with Bunkers Uill, bold, rugged, naked, and desolate as it is ; beyond 
 which rise the slopes and peaks of Biinks' Ridge ; and further round, 
 tho dreary hanging sides of Sane Valley, which rise up and form 
 the table flats of Longwood. But looking back, beneath our feci, 
 extended like a map or model toy, lies the little town, sunk deep 
 between two lofty mountains, which close it in and shut it from other 
 parts of the Island, except by roads which wind and t il their sinuous 
 way among the hills, by many a rocky steep and weary sinew-stretch- 
 ing climb. Below us is a little patch of land, a tiny plain upon a 
 rocky hill, with other hills around, a valley in its rear and front, and 
 flanked by mountain masses, a strange but not unpleasing spot — the 
 *• Briars ;" a little hamlet with half a doien cottages enclosed by walla 
 and prickly pears ; two little villas in their grounds, sometimes green, 
 but mostly parched and dry ; wild roads that wander round and round 
 as if without an object, choked up with prickly pears, bramble, and 
 the poisonous bringal ; a few cypress trees, and waving reeds, strag- 
 gling clumps of aloes with their lofty flowers, Jackson willows, fin, 
 and forest trees; in the rear, a little kitchen garden green whh vege- 
 tation, creeping down a grassy slope to meet the vale below, where 
 runs a babbling stream along its rocky bed. 
 
 That little cottage yonder, almost on the edge of the cliff, behind 
 that naked stony hill, was once the home and habitation of Napoleon. 
 — It is a small quaint place, with lofty roof and gables, verandahs 
 and stone steps— a little box — but large enough for him w.th all his 
 greatness crumbling round. Here, with only one small room for his 
 accommodation, the hero of Marengo and Jena took up his abode, 
 till Longwood could be prepared for his reception. The choice was 
 his, he liked it for its solituue and quaintness, preferring it to better 
 houses in the town, where he would have been annoyed by lookers-on, 
 and privacy unknown 
 
 Leaving this elevated point of view, we pass along a short and 
 narrow ridge, by banks of blood red marl and boulder stones, till it 
 enters a wild but pleasing dingle, formed by the slopes of the various 
 hills which enclose and give it shape. 
 
 Below the road is a shallow gully, covered with trees and under- 
 wood, with here and there patches of ground covered by that beau- 
 tiful creeper the Hottentot fig, with its red and yellow flowery tuftt, 
 peeping from among its variously tinted leaves, crimson, preen, or 
 yellow with age, always bright and pleasing, a welcome contrast to 
 nskcd rocks and clayey banks, that show themselves among the trees 
 and stinted herbage of the place. 
 
 Looking upwards in tho direction of the road, the view — of small 
 extent, is beautiful. Sloping hills, strewed over with brushy furse 
 and rush, and bell like blossoms of the golden rod ; a wilderness of 
 brushwood, principally of the wild coflce tree, with its yelL . 
 
78 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 like blossom glimmering among its dark green leaves in chaste sim- 
 plicity, with many a berry to catch the schoolboy's eye, and share 
 attention with the bramble fruit. Firs, and pines, and pre-eminent 
 above the rest, the little jungles of the Jackson willow, with its fan- 
 tastic arms, bushy leaves, and rich display of catkins, not bright and 
 dazzling, like the bold and glorious blaze of the furze in bloom, but 
 pale and delicate, tender as the cowslip's gentle hue ; so numerous 
 and thickly strewn, the hill itself seems an universal flower, lush with 
 beauty, and all the chaste and simple finery of nature — so beautiful — 
 and yet a wildling of the woods. Seen on the hill sides, among the 
 dark masses of fir and pine, it seems more bright and lovely by the 
 contrast, and throws a summer charm among the woods, a life and 
 gaiety so simple, chaste, and beautiful, that none can hope to rival — 
 a peerless maiden of the forest in summer gladness dancing through 
 its mazes, to fill the wandering eye with admiration, and stir the 
 throbbing heart with joyous ecstacies of undiluted pleasure. 
 
 The road, with one or two traverses, sweeps gently through these 
 pleasing wilds, passes along thick hedges, by little fields and shadowy 
 dells and bushy lanes, all English in appearance, save where the aloe 
 spreads its pointed leaves, and rears its lofty flower laden stem — to 
 nip illusion in t'r.e bud, and tell of sunny skies and southern heats : 
 —then enters a noble lane with thick and lofty hedges hanging from 
 its banks, with many a tree to fling its shadow in the way — closes up, 
 and pierces through a little winding forest, with high woody banks on 
 the right, and steep descents, ravines, and gullies on the left, hid 
 from the sight by thickly branching trees, that block the prospect and 
 obscure the scene. 
 
 One turn more by a ruined cottage, a rusty signal gun, a noble bed 
 of flowery creepers — by a way-side wine house hid behind a budlea 
 hedge with its downy leaves, and clustered clumps of warmly tinted 
 flowers — the end of a shadowy lane, and then debouching from the 
 wood, behold! the scene that bursts at once upon you, gaze your 
 fill, for 'twill be long before you see its like again. 
 
 Far away before us runs the road— level, broad, and flat, beneath 
 a bank of stone, and furze, and bramble, with firs above, till it winds 
 behind the thickning hedges and disappears from view. A lotty wood- 
 crowned ridge runs down, with many a break and bend to meet the 
 road, while in the distance, are green hills and woods, a mountain 
 rising through the mists, crowned with a little cottage, scarce visible 
 amid the trees, its windows flashing in the sun, as if to mark its 
 whereabouts. 
 
 At the point where the road is lost among the sinuous hedges, a 
 small cottage villa looms through a little wood of forest and fruit trees, 
 a lumpish hill springs up adjoining, covered by a tuft of sombre firs, 
 moss clad, and twisted by the breeze in singularly wild and fantastic 
 form. 
 
 There at your feet, deep beneath you, down steep and grassy 
 slopes, Wild with clumps of furze, lies a valley, sleeping in the sun- 
 light, not long or broad, but still and peaceful, backed by a lofty 
 hill, at the foot of which in deep repose is a cottage placed snugly in 
 a wooded holm. Beyond, among the trees, is a straggling wooden 
 fence, with cypress, fir, and willows round, and in the centre there, 
 an open shed— a something thatched with rush and' straw—Napoleon's 
 lonely and deserted grave ! 
 
GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 7ii 
 
 While yonder, rising high above the vale, a short bird's flight across, 
 above a range of barren, naked, rocky sides, looms up a plain— a 
 lofty mountain seamed with fissures— in outline not unlike VesuTius, 
 and beyond a black and gloomy mass of rock, cloud capped, without 
 a tree or shrub to hide its nakedness ; and in the centre of the scene, 
 are gables, roofs, and windows, peeping from among the trees that 
 cluster there, and hem them round in semblance of a straggling 
 hamlet, or snug village in an open plain— that place is Longwood, 
 the ruined and deserted home of he whose memory stamps the scene 
 with interest, deep attractive, and undying ; — 
 
 •' Earth has not anything to show more fair. 
 Dull would be the soul who could pass by 
 A sight so touching in its majesty 1" 
 
 Pursuing our way, we descend the side of a sloping hill along a 
 narrow road which straggles down into the valley, by many a bush of 
 furze and briar till it turns under a gentle bairik cut out of the base of 
 the hill, and enters the grounds of the cottage, where resides the 
 cvitos of the place. Crossing these grounds— a little glade — we pass 
 under the shaoow of a little wood, along a foot path which winds in 
 the direction of the tomb enclosure, till we are stopped by a fence, 
 which precludes admission without an entri from the residents of the 
 cottage to whom the tomb belongs, for it is private property. 
 
 The cottage, where Napoleon often whiled an hour away, is in a 
 pretty situation, embosomed in a slopy knoll at the entrance of the 
 vale, with a little holm of trees around to keep the wind at bay, 
 please the eye, afford a shade, and fill the ear with many a murmur- 
 ing sound, blent with the song of birds, and shrilly cry of crickets 
 at the even tide. 
 
 A common wooden fence, sadly touched by time, and crumbling 
 down, forms the outward enclose of a rood or two of ground, and 
 separates it from the rest of the valley, from which, with this excep- 
 tion, it is scarcely distinguishable, unless indeed, the pendulous 
 branches and plume-like masses of the weeping willows, and melan- 
 choly cypress should strike upon the eye, attract attention, and show 
 at once the empty tomb, round which they stand like lonely guardians 
 of the place. In the centre of this small enclosure, is the open grave, 
 lined with masonry, and having at the bottom a small recess sunk 
 below the general level to receive the coffin — 
 
 " Crammed into a space, we blush to name !" 
 
 The masonry of the vault, for such it may be termed, is carried up 
 a few inches above the ground, and then coped with lava slabs, in 
 which is fixed a common cast iron railing, now rudely thatched with 
 rush and straw, to protect the grave and keep it from the weather — 
 a needless precaution, for, from its situation in the Ud of a narrow 
 and confined valley, it is naturally somewhat damp, and in times of 
 heavy rain, not unfrequeutly becomes entirely filled with water, 
 which converts the grave into a little bath ot some eight feet deep. 
 
 One end of the iron railing immediately round the tomb, is open 
 for the purpose of admitting visitors, who may feel inclined to have 
 a chat, or leave their names In such a strange locality ; the descent is 
 •tally made by means of a step ladder placed there for the purpose. 
 
80 GUIDB TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 The whole face of the cemented stone-work is riddled over with 
 scarcely legible names, and many a line of rhyme, and prose run 
 mad, now crumbling fast from view. 
 
 Immediately in front of the external wooden railing which surrounds 
 the grave, is Napoleon's Spring, under a bank of ruddy marl, cut in 
 the slope of the adjacent hill. It is plentifully covered with clustering 
 herbage, and enshrined in a little oasis of luxuriant grass, and wild 
 flowers ; and as usual, conspicuous above them all, are the rambling 
 branches of the prickly bramble, while on the bai>k above are many 
 a bunch of furze, dressed in all the panoply of their golden pride , 
 with here and there a lonely sheep cropping the parched and withered 
 grass, that tints with varied hue the swelling surface of the hill that 
 locks the valley in. 
 
 Passing this spot one day, Napoleon saw the spring, admired its 
 clearness, drank some of its water from the palm of his hand, found 
 it to be delightfully cool and refreshing, and pleasing to his taste ; 
 ever after, while sojourning at Longwood, he had it carried there for 
 his private use by Chinese, principally kept for the purpose. There 
 is an earthen mug generally kept upon one of the rails of the enclo- 
 sure before the spring, by means of which you may drink your fill 
 from the transparent water, — so drink in silence, to the memory of 
 departed greatness — aye — drain it to the dregs, for glory in the dust. 
 
 The enclosure now contains nothing but a few trees ; the flowers 
 sprung from those planted by Madam Bertrand, have long since dis- 
 appeared ; the famous willows are no more, but others from the same 
 stock supply their place, and keep alive the semblance of its original 
 state as far perhaps as can be done, without pretence or affectation. 
 What remained of the original willows were taken away by the French 
 when the body of Napoleon was exhumed, as well as the three slabs 
 which covered his nameless grave — they were broken up, and carried 
 away as precious memorials, and dearly cherished reliques of that 
 child of destiny, whose star was doomed to set for ever on the rock of 
 St. Helena. 
 
 There is one circumstance -** to point a moral and adorn a tale*' — 
 connected with this tomb, not perhaps generally known — the three 
 slabs that closed Napoleon's grave, were taken from the kitchen 
 hearth of his prison home at Longwood, — what an end and consumma- 
 tion to the evanescent strength of universal power! what a bitter 
 antidote to all the fiery throes, and lofty aspirations of illimitable but 
 aelf-delusive grandeur ! well may the poet ask,— 
 
 " Where are the mighty thunderbolts of war, 
 
 The Roman Csesars, and the Grecian chiefs, 
 
 The boast of story ? Where the hot braved youth 
 
 Who the tiara at his pleasure tore 
 
 From kings of all the then discovered globe, 
 
 And cried, forsooth, because his arm was hampered, 
 
 And had not room enough to do its work ! ' 
 
 Of glory unapproachable, what are now the sad remains ; of power 
 the end, with all its arms and hosts— the unsubstantial echo of a 
 name — a household word of fear and trembling — the idle pageant of 
 a fading dream— an empty sound that rings of glory, with all its 
 deeds undone— its victories useless— bloodshed vain— its brilliance 
 
GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 81 
 
 fading in the mists of time, and dwindling to a gchoolboys theme or 
 poet's legend ? 
 
 " Quante e pegueno, e vao um homem grande ! 
 
 Morrer sobre, um rochedo no oceano ! 
 
 How vain the grandeur of ambitious man ! 
 Exiled, expiring, on an ocean rock I 
 How closely arc allied in fate the heroes of the past and present. 
 Time runs its course, for everchanging ; but man remains the same — 
 the sport of fortune ; raised to glory's highest point, then hurled pell 
 mell down to rise no more. Caesar, Alexander, Hannibal, Napoleon, 
 how like in fortune, glory, greatness, and disastrous ends. 
 
 " Expende Annibalcm ! 
 
 Hie est quera non capit Africa, Mauro, 
 
 Perfusa oceano, Niloque admota tepenti. 
 Additur imperils Hispania, — Pyrenaeum 
 Transilit ; opposuit natura Alpemque, Nivernque — 
 Jam tenet Italiam : tamen ultra pergere tendit. 
 
 Such is the summary of Hannibal, delivered by the Roman satirist 
 Juvenal, to which we find a parallel in La Martines Meditation on 
 Napoleon ; so like is human greatness and ambition when crumbling 
 in the dust. 
 
 ** Ici git . . .point de nom ! . . . .demandez k la terre 
 
 Ce nom ! il est inscrit en sanglant caractere 
 
 Sur le bronze, et le marbre, et sur le sein des braves, 
 
 . . . .dans le coeur, de ces tropeaux d'esclaves, 
 
 Qu'il foul ait tremblans sous son char 1" 
 
 Then comes the end — 
 
 " Sur un ^cueil battu par la vague plaintive, 
 On distingue . . . .un sceptre brise !" 
 And as were written by a venerable resident of St. Helena, in lan- 
 guage homely, true, and pithy — 
 
 THE STONES THAT DTD HIS KITCHEN PAVE, 
 CLOSED AT LAST, NAPOLEOn's GRAVE 11! 
 
 The Tomb was exhibited for many years by an old sergeant and his 
 wife, who lived in a little bit of a hut in the valley, a few paces above 
 the Tomb, to enable them to be always at hand to receive visitors ; 
 and not onl}' to show them over the place, but to explain all the 
 mysteries appertaining thereunto, as well as to keep it in proper and 
 decent trim for receiving company. Besides all these multifarious 
 duties, he had to attend to the cultivation of a patch of ground, where 
 he grew numerous slips from the Willows, for the accommodation of 
 such enthusiastic strangers as might wish to make themselves 
 supremely happy by the purchase of such a souvenir of their pilgra- 
 mage. Great was the consumptiipn of willow in the palmy days of 
 the Tomb — ere the body was removed, and the overland route opened 
 up. The slips were popped into anything that came to hand first — 
 blacking, pickle, and wine bottles, bouig the most favorite receptacles ; 
 to which were added, holy water from the spring, to keep them 
 alive in their transit from place to place. The old serjeant was 
 
82 OUIDB TO 8T. HELENA. 
 
 eloquent on matters appertaining to Napoleon ; and his wife arowed, 
 that he told '* nothing no more than he had seen — all in a book in 
 print." And perhaps what was more interesting to her: — "That 
 people now-a dajs got very stingy, and wanted to see things for 
 nuthen ; as well as to pull down the willers, instead of buying 'em 
 of the old man, as they ought to do, when they comes to sich a place 
 ai this " No sooner were strangers seen approaching the tabooed 
 land under charge of the sergeant, than he was in a state of excite- 
 ment, and all agog to meet them. " A good morning, misters: how 
 d'ye do" ; and a very polite scrape of his best leg by way of a bow ; 
 after which introduction, he commenced forthwith a flood of explana- 
 tions in the most accomplished style of an experienced cicerone, ai 
 follows: "Here's the railing round the ground, and there's the paling 
 round the tomb, eight feet deep, six feet long, and three feet wide. 
 Napoleon was buried in three coffins, one in another, his head wa» 
 here, his feet was there; he was dressed in a green coat, white 
 breeches, and jack boots beautifully polished, with his cocked hat 
 between his legs, & his heart in a silver pot at his feet. All the Island 
 came to the funeral, and the soldiers fired a royal salute. These are 
 not the willers that have been taken away, but I have got some glips 
 from the real tree — will you come and look at *em, misters? that's a 
 fine 'un ; oh, he'll grow, stick him in this bottle — a hum — ha — thank'e 
 sir. This is the spring, and that's the water, here's a mug to taste ; 
 ain't it cool ? just as Napoleon used to drink it, when he came here 
 atore he was buried, to play with Madam Bertrand's children, and 
 read there, where the willers used to stand, what are gone now. 
 Here's the visitor's book, what they writes their names in : here, this 
 way, in the sentry box — here's the ink, and there's the pen ; please 
 to write your name — a hem — it is full of poetry in all kinds of lingos 
 what I can't understand— a hem— if you please — a hem — to remember 
 — a-tish-ah ! — (drat the cold) — a trifle for showing. This way, sir, 
 —thank'e sir; good morning." 
 
 The old Serjeant has retired with all his blushing honors thick upon 
 him, and a pension from the French government, to make him com- 
 fortable, as he says, " all his life as long as he lives." Wishing him 
 joy and length of years, allow me to take his place, and lay before 
 you a few amusing extracts from the scrawled and blotted pages of 
 such of the " Visitors B oks" as now remain at the tomb. 
 
 They are full of names and nonsense, written by passengers, in 
 almost all the European languages, with now and then a pithy remark ; 
 but most of these effusions are what might be expected — nonsensical 
 rhapsodies, bad rhyme, worse rythme, and words without meaning ; 
 in many cases national feeling shows itself, and breaks into bitter 
 invectives against England and Englishmen. The predominant tone 
 of the French entries are generally highly panegyrical of their wonderful 
 emperor, mixed with the most bittei, and often the most inflated hatred 
 against " perfide Albion," abounding with curses both loud and deep, 
 overflo\vii)g with all the contemptuous expressions and ideas they can 
 muaier, for the purpose of persuading John Bull that he is nothing 
 but a, sulky calf. Many entries are full of feeling for the untoward 
 fate of their darling leader, speaking proudly of his glory, and mourn- 
 luUy of hi3 fall. There is this contrast to be observed between the 
 French and English entries, — that the former are most serious, and 
 
I 
 
 QUIDS TO 8T. HELENA. 
 
 83 
 
 probably real reflections of the writers' heart and incliD&tioni ; whil« 
 those of the latter, in the long run, are feeble attempts at the face- 
 tious and bombastic attempts to panegerise Napoleon, with rarely 
 anything said in his disparagement, but, like the French, often 
 enough turning with pompous solemnity to reeret his great ambition, 
 and its disastrous end. While many a goodly pen has been worn to 
 the stump by the brawny hand of Englishmen, trying to indite senti- 
 mental poetry of a most melancholy and lugrubaous character, more 
 honorable to their hearts than the.r heads. 
 
 There is one French poem, too lonir to quote, however, in which 
 the author endeavours to make Napoleon appear to be greater on the 
 noir rocher of St. Helena — 
 
 Qu' aux plaine d' Austerlitz, de Wagram en d* Arcole, sans trone, 
 tans etats, sans appui, sang aiieux !" Which he soon after contrives 
 to contradict, and finishes with the two following lines of most por* 
 lentous import — 
 
 " Gloire au Martyr de St. Uelene I 
 Honte 'eternelle a ses courroux I 
 From which specimen of the sublime we pass to the following 
 splendid address — 
 
 " To the visitors of Napoleon's Tomb * — 
 
 1 see in this book now before me, 
 
 That many fools has been here before me ; 
 
 As for Napoleon, be perhaps was a great man, 
 
 A warrior and a too well used man, 
 
 And if he had had his due, 
 
 He never would have troubled you ! 
 This is about as fine a specimen of rhyme without reason as could 
 be well picked up in a day's march ; but strange to say, without much 
 searching, the following startling specimen of real unpolluted Bathos 
 presents itself to notice, and it would be an act of arrant vandalism to 
 pass it over — 
 
 ** Captain Tweedie and his party 
 
 Came to the Tomb of Bonapart-o." 
 
 ** That mandate was a thunder peal which died 
 
 In ages past, that gave a transient flash 
 
 On which the midnight closed, and on that arm 
 
 The worm has made her meal I" 
 which will serve as an excellent puzzle to exercise the intellectual 
 powers of ray readers, by endeavouring to find out its hidden meaning, 
 tor no doubt it has a deep one. 
 
 " Captain Bartolo, venuto avisitar la tomba do Napoleone, la fatti 
 digune en qucsta casa con molta ospitalita I" — which is an excellent 
 method of combining pleasure Mitn business, and one frequently 
 practised by tourists — for I have often encountend these kind of 
 entries in visitors' books at ditVercnt places, and its consequent excite- 
 ment are highly provocative of hunger and most unsentimental 
 appetites. I have seen such entries as this at Festiniop — •• came to 
 see the waterfall, and had a good breakfast," while at that little den 
 of a tavern, on the summit of Snowdon- 1 remember to have read — 
 '• slept here all night to see the sun rise— turned out a cloudy mom- 
 
84 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 ing— but made up for it by a hearty breakfast" — which has a parallel, 
 in the following tit bit, from a poem in the tomb books, alluding to 
 the exhibitor's residence 
 
 ** There you will find excellent cheer, 
 
 Bread and chf^ese, and ale and beer ; 
 
 And while Mrs. T. gives bread and butter. 
 
 Its my intention never to cut her 1" 
 Some learned and sentimental gentleman has left behind him the 
 following splendid elegy, which may be said to contain exactly as 
 many truisms as it does lines— 
 
 " Vanitas, vanitatum, omnia vanitas !" 
 
 " Calmly he sleeps 'neath the willow tree, 
 "With the heavens blue above him, 
 Of the numbers who surround his grave, 
 How few there are who loved him !" 
 
 To which may be added this dreadfully pathetic entry — 
 
 "Alfred de Kantzow—alas !— alas ! !" 
 
 and this, in which the author does not tell us whether he cursed 
 himself or the tomb — 
 
 " Jai vu— et jai maudit !" 
 
 underneath which some one has written in unmistakable characters, 
 the word—" miserable." 
 
 Some people on visiting the tomb, are so overwhelmed with the 
 solemnity of the scene, that they become incapable of stringing their 
 ideas together in proper sequence, even in prose, as these specimens 
 prore — 
 
 " A penny spent to see the immortal remains of the greatest man 
 that ever lived— is certainly a privilege that few possess — I trust that 
 all who possess a feeling such as I have described, will liberally 
 expend a handsome sum to supply the wants of one of Napoleon's 
 greatest admirers !" 
 
 ** The records in this volume attest that empire of the mind, which 
 outlives that of country ; — judge not as ye will be judged yourselves. 
 Was ever civilized man so devoid of enthusiasm or feeling as to return 
 from this sad and solemn pilgrimage without subdued and sobered 
 spirits." 
 
 " Napoleon ; although the brave British have laid thee 
 For nineteen long years in the cold Island tomb— yet 
 France sent her prince, and a frigate to take thee 
 
 To the land of the living thy once cherished home 1" 
 
 Mahomed Ben Short. 
 To save time, I will string together a few specimens of French 
 invectives against England, taken as they come without selection or 
 arrangement. 
 
 *' Honte et Meprise a 1' Angleterre I" 
 
 underneath which, some person has scrawled — *' Why didn't you 
 lick us, you mongrel Frenchman." 
 
 St. Helene Hudson Lowe ! ! ! 
 
E 
 
 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. $0 
 
 ho following is evidentry intended for a pun— and truly it is a 
 
 •tartling one; it being very hard, that the misfoitunea of Napoleon 
 should be laid at the door of the " heaven bom minister" VV illiam 
 Pitt, vfho had the ill luck to die ton years before the battle of 
 Waterloo. 
 
 "Horreur a I'execrable Pitt!'* 
 
 ** Horreur an bourreau Ludson lowe ! !" 
 
 Listen gentle reader to the thunders of this awful denunciation ; 
 but let it not disturb your equanimity by day, or slumbers by night, 
 and above all do not return the compliment,— *' que touts Francais 
 passant sur ces rivages recrivent avec moi/' 
 
 " Malediction a 1' Angleterre !" 
 
 Among the contributions from French soldiers, who seem to be 
 always enthusiastic in favour of Napoleon, and madly excited against 
 the English, the following may be taken as a sample, — 
 
 " Un soldat Francais a 1* Angleterre 1" 
 
 ** Hate toi de jouir de ta ponpre sans gloire, car la fatalit6, 
 
 Les destins, et la France, ont garde la memoxre de ton iniquite !" 
 
 Poor John Bull comes in for a castigation from all hands, here are 
 the sentiments of one Don Carlos Perez, a grim Spaniard — 
 
 " Nacion infernal, se aproxima el dia de vuestra ruina!" 
 
 •* Puneteros Yngleses qual habeis tratado el emperador, os trataran 
 todas las naciones I" 
 
 The selection of scraps may be taken as specimens of the entries 
 made by Frenchmen, who are ardent admirers of Napoleon, and 
 content themselves by leaving tl.ese memorials of their visit, without 
 indulging in what is a great pleasure to many visitors, an hearty 
 execration against England and the English. 
 
 The passengers of the " Sultan,'* — 
 
 *' Sont venus a visiter le lieu au reposer 
 L'homme qui a repandu sur la nation, 
 Francaise une glorie qui vivre aussi 
 Long tems que le monde !" 
 
 '• Pelerinage sacre au Tombeau !" 
 
 '* Non, non, tout ne meurt pas, 
 La gloire est immortelle !" 
 
 '• Honneur, Honneur a I'empereur!" 
 
 *' Passants verse une larme gur le tombeau 
 
 Du plus grand captaine I" 
 
 " Respect au tombeau du grand homme !*' 
 
 " A la gloire de ton nom, 
 Nous notis prosternons !" 
 
86 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 *• Le» soldats Fran<?aia sont toujour* glorieux de visiter Ics lieux, 
 qui renfermeot jadis ies restes mortels du plus brave soldat de 
 I'uniVerse !" 
 
 Signed by many Soldiers. 
 
 •• Meg pleures a ta memoire 
 Mais ris a ta gloire !** 
 
 ** Une pleur a la tombe, un marbre au mautoUe, 
 Et pour rhorame geant une rocher Isol6." 
 
 " Oui, Napoleon tu vis eternellement dans notre pens^e." 
 
 " Hi ont tant pleur6, que nous n'avons plus de larmes." 
 
 " On parlera de son gloire, 
 Sous le chaume bien long terns !" 
 
 With the two following specimens of entries in the Visitor's Book, 
 I will bring ray French extracts to a conclusion. 
 
 " L'Oise, Corvette de Charge.*' 
 
 *♦ Dans I'aride vallon,— s'engouffre la zaffale 
 
 La vague sur Ies rois, murmure en se brissant 
 
 Mais plus fort que ces bruits j'ea tends ton dernier-zale 
 
 Royal Agonisant. 
 
 Sur ce sombre rocher qui devient son calvaire, 
 
 La voix accusatrice en vain vient retentir I 
 
 O liberty ! qui pent etre eire sevrfc 
 
 Devant la tonibe du Martyr.** 
 
 (Une foule d* amis) 
 
 " II est TOort, 
 
 II est mort." 
 " L'Enfant cheri de la France, 
 Ah jamais sous le soUel, 
 Ne pairaitra son pareil ; 
 Mais en deceiidant au tombeau, 
 Tu nous a laisse ton drapeau. 
 Nous chanteroQs longtems ta gloire V* 
 
 The following I think will be considered worth the trouble of 
 translating, as it is not altogether devoid of moral, and is evidently 
 the entry of some one who has seen his share of the world : — 
 
 *' I have the honor to be a traveller who has visited all the curiosities 
 worth seeing. 1 have seen Ies Ours at Berne — the clock at Moscow — 
 the monument of Peter the Great at St. Petersburg— the Tunnel at 
 London — the Dome of the Invalids at Paris — the Table Mountain, 
 and a thousand other things. I have now come to this place to con- 
 template the tomb of the devastator of Europe— of the great man 
 of our age. Alas ! the space which he has occupied during nineteen 
 Years, is exactly of the same dimension as that which holds the 
 humblest of his numerous victims." 
 
 W. Von Meyer, 
 Ls Pelerin de la Russie I 
 
OUIDK TO 8T. HELXNA. 
 
 87 
 
 To savo both time aod space, I will content myself by giving the 
 translation of a Portuguese poem, as I suppose it must be called-, 
 commencing as under, its two concluding linos having been already 
 quoted a few paragraphs back. 
 
 •' Rival de Julio Csezar, de Alexandre, 
 Qual k a historia tua, I3onaparle I" 
 
 " Rival of Julius Cassar, and Alexander 
 
 What is your history Bonaparte ! 
 
 Marengo' and Austerlitz, Jena and Waterloo! 
 
 To make the kings tremble — destroy the people — 
 
 To make blood and tears 6ow in torrents 1 
 
 What have you left your Country, Europe, or the world 1 
 
 Tyrants — as you were — the kings still are — 
 
 Slaves as they wrre — the people now are I 
 
 What then has been thy fate and glory 1 
 
 How small and vain a great man, 
 
 Exiled, expiring, on an ocean rock 1" 
 
 The following extract is entered in the book in English — bnt is 
 evidently written by a Fronch hand, and that a young one : — 
 
 •* Had he had as many faithful subjects as indifferent admirers, 
 there would not be now so many unknown names noted down on 
 this paper." 
 
 F. B., a Midshipman, 
 H. F. M. Frigate *' Belle Poule." 
 
 Here is an amusing specimen of Medical Latin— which arc net 
 uncommon in the Books, — 
 
 " Ad vide Napoieonis turaultim veni in die Sexto Mai, 3 849." 
 to which may be added the following, equally elegant and characteristic, 
 being a medley of original composition, and quotation. 
 
 " Die VII Feb. Anno MLCCCXLVIII." 
 
 " Dr. Hannibal Foresti natus coraplici dixit, 
 Intelligite et erudissimi, qui indicati terram I" 
 
 Dr. A Forreyt. 
 And as a fitting tail-piece to these learned effusions, I will present 
 roy gentle reader with the annexed copy of a very pleasant bit of 
 pedantry : — 
 
 
88 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 which appears to have been written by a Free Mason — and is nothing 
 more than English words disguised in Greek letters, as ibllows — 
 
 " Joanne Williams as seen the tomb oph Napoleon — I think im a 
 phine man but a skourge !" — which I suppose the learned writer 
 means to stand for " John Williams has seen the tomb of Napoleon 
 — I think him a fine man but a scourge!" 
 
 O grand homme ! O grand Napoleon ! 
 
 MALEDICTION!!! 
 
 ** Mais la France, et toi sont venge, 
 Hudson Lowe est mort ! 1 1" 
 
 from which specimen of sublime Bathos, we will pass on to the follow- 
 ing beautiful example of simple and unimpassioned writing — which 
 every one will admit is replete with useful, if not very interesting 
 information — 
 
 " Louis F. Waldron, one bord of the barke hope of nubedford its 
 boat steer— has this day bin to see honeys tomb — we are out 24 
 munts with thirteen hundread of bis. Spurm Oil !" 
 
 I shall now lay before the astonished gaze of my indulgent readers, 
 a tew specimens of English poetry, which have been carefully culled 
 from the sybilline leaves of the Visitors' Books for their especial 
 amusement and instruction. They are all of them true children of 
 the graveyard Parnassus, and have been plentifully diluted with 
 water from the famous Pierian spring, that bubbles up in the middle 
 of the Tomb Valley. 
 
 I will leave all comments to the reader, who may indulge his 
 critical acumen by endeavouring to elucidate their meaning ; and in 
 attempting to classify them according to their respective styles, which 
 are as variable as they are elegant and entertaining ! 
 
 ** The tomb of Napoleon we visit to-day, 
 And trod on the spot where the tyrant lay ; 
 That his equal again may never appear, 
 Shall be sincerely prayed for many a year !" 
 
 Jack Lee, Cork. 
 
 " Napoleons gone ! the Island tomb 
 No more his corpse contains ; 
 A prince and noble ship have come, 
 And taken his remains I" 
 
 D. O'C, 14th Oct., 41, 
 
 ** ^e felt, he sunk, and not a sigh 
 Told that the hero feared to die !" 
 
 W. Kenny. 
 
 " Napoleon thou art gone, but still 
 Thy shade is here to meet 
 Thy countrymen, who ever will 
 Regard thy memory sweet." 
 
 There's my sentiments I 
 
D. K. 
 
 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. ^9 
 
 •* Oh, dear me I vigited the tomb !" 
 
 " I cannot shed the friendly tear, 
 No monument of preatness near; 
 His talents, bravery, claims respect, 
 Nor shall they suffer through neglect ;' 
 For ages yet unborn shall tell 
 How the one." brave Napoleon fell ; 
 And France shall with a proud regret 
 Bewail the gallant hero's fate !"' 
 
 D. H. 
 
 *• The sun of Austcrlitz is set, 
 An<l clouds have shone on Nap the great, 
 Ambition brought the Emperor here, 
 To this bleak Isle, both lone and drear !" 
 
 •• We Ichaboe gentlemen 
 Are hearty and strong, 
 We left James' Town 
 To visit Wood Long. 
 
 On the way to Wood Long 
 We visited the Tomb, 
 Where Napoleon the great 
 Lays conquered by fate !" 
 
 *' I looked upon the tomb and said, 
 Ta this the place Napoleon's laid ; 
 A friend of mine who stood hard by, 
 He made to me this short reply, — 
 
 * The shell lies here if so the truth be. 
 The Kernel's gone to where it should be ;' 
 I'll leave this place with ripht good will. 
 And take the road for ladder hill, 
 Descend right down that flight of stairs, 
 
 • How surely he who mounts them swears ;' 
 Cast anchor snug with Mr. Carroll, 
 
 And taste the proof of his wine barrell I" 
 
 B. Donald. Glen Livett, 
 
 " Onco in this romantic vale 
 
 Reposed the ashes of the great, 
 And o'er his tomb the willows did ware. 
 Farewell, alas! the proud sons of France 
 
 Have disturbed his sweet repose." 
 
 follows — 
 
 " Farewell, and may you still in peace repose 
 Siill o'er you may willows woep, and flowers introdden bloom ; 
 And softly wave to every wiii<I tjial blows, 
 Casting their fragrance o'er thv mighty tomb ; 
 Peace to thy shades, oh ! would it w ere mine. 
 'lo enjoy repoiio so deep as thine !" 
 
 ,1.., u.}r.oh so'ne wag hac <'«vi,i-.i '« Bravo, a secu. .. .. . 
 
90 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 Lines on visiting Napoleon's Tomb. 
 
 I. 
 
 • *' Is this the funeral pile of him, 
 "Who for hia country's cause, 
 Sacrificed his private life 
 In defending her laws. 
 
 II. 
 
 The pomp of earthly grandeur 
 Is banished in the grave, 
 Him who was his boast^ 
 The bravest of the brave ! 
 
 III. 
 
 There is no relic left to tell 
 That Napoleon resteth here ; 
 A monumental pile set up 
 Pourtraying his career. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Save by his lonely tomb 
 
 The willow hangs around, 
 
 And weeps upon the blank flag alone. 
 
 That's raised above the ground. 
 
 V. 
 Sleep in peace— brave warrior, 
 Beneath this parched sod ; 
 Till thou shall be with glory crowned 
 By thy Almighty God!" 
 
 " Oh ! here the king of Europe's princes laid, 
 
 Oh! stranger stop and weep — he was a man, 
 
 Formed for that he was. His faults were many, 
 
 But they were the faults of man's weak nature ; 
 
 Most beloved by all the needy, for it was his wish 
 
 To comfort the opprest ; 
 
 May he be blest — in regions of the dead, 
 
 And never want a friendly tongue to raise 
 
 A tribute to his praise ; 
 
 May the sour blight rest on those envious tongues, 
 
 Who would detract from him ; 
 
 Soldiers be proud, • 
 
 And tho' the willow weeps o'er his grave 
 
 May eyes weep o'er it too ! 
 
 And though his grave 's defaced, may memory still 
 
 Hand down he was a man ! 
 
 We ne'er shall look upon his like again." 
 
 ** Here lies entombed of Bonaparte, 
 Embalmed the body and the heart ; 
 His ashes rest beneath yon willow, 
 Me thinks it far too iiard a pillow 
 For such a daring gallant fellow. 
 
GLIDK TO bT. HELENA. 91 
 
 I can't make poetry — more holy on 
 'I'he ashes of this great Napoleon ! 
 Sorry am I my muse wont sing. 
 She never, couldn't, do such thing ; 
 But if my verses dont amuse ye, 
 All I can say is confuse ye ; 
 
 But the worst part hag yet to come, 
 A house that stands hard by the tomb, 
 "Which this big wig did oft frequent. 
 When on an airing he was bent ; 
 There you will find excellent cheer, 
 Bread and cheese, and ale and beer, 
 And while Mrs. T. gives bread and butter, 
 Its my intention never to cut her !" 
 
 Turning from rhyme, without rythm or reason, to prose done in 
 gentle English, I will introduce a memorandum left in the Book by 
 three jovial middies of the '* Melville," which informs us that — 
 
 •* We three have endeavoured by sundry potations of Mrs. T's 
 brandy, to arrive at the proper pitch of enthusiasm, always felt, or 
 assumed to be, by pilgrims to this tomb:— it has however been a 
 complete failure — which I fear our horses will rue when we arrive at 
 tiie end of our pilgrimage !" 
 
 A sea captain better used to the marlin spike than the pen, delivers 
 himself of the following beautiful specimen of blended prose and 
 rhyme, — 
 
 " William Miller, Master of the Barque " Hope," visited the 
 remains of the greatest warrior in our day, Interred for twenty years. 
 
 Here lies the warrior, the bravest of the brave, 
 Visited by Miller, God the Queen may save!" 
 
 which has the substantial merit of loyalty, if it has not that ot being 
 poetical. 
 
 The next illustration will be highly valuable to geographers and 
 naturalists, for the new and interesting information it contains, — 
 
 '* The Chief Officer of the Pomona Yacht, on secret service from 
 the unknown Island, .1200 miles to the eastward of the straits of 
 Balamgamgara, where they cannot brace the yards up, for the 
 monkey's tails sticking in the blocks, pa d a visit to the tomb of the 
 Kmperor — 
 
 Rest Warrior, Rest!" 
 
 "lich wonderful account can only be equalled by the Yankcy skipper's 
 
 scription of the number of whales killed at one stroke ot the 
 
 irpoon, at that mysterious whaling station, knowu as Carrol's 
 
 .round, whore every one of those Crctacian curiosities yield a 
 
 hundred butts of blubber, and a belly full of anibergris. 
 
 The following entry contains a slight ditfcronce of opinion between 
 
 couple of Scotch captains, one of whom appears to have had his 
 
 nipor soured at Melbourne, wliile the other, we may suppose, has 
 
 Iiunibugged by the people, I'ut uho is yet bufficicntly liberal n'^t 
 
92 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 to quarrel with the country — the first writes that he and his company- 
 called at the Tomb— 
 
 ** On our way to England from that humbug of a place Melbourne, 
 Port Phillip, per barque Helen. " 
 
 W. Miller. 
 
 Underneath which, J. Buchanan has written in unmistakable charac- 
 ters, " Having been in the colony for a year or two, the above is not 
 
 correct. The Inhabitants are humbugs but the Colony is not." 
 
 which is exactly the case with St. Helena I 
 
 After this interesting dispute about morals and colonial matters, we 
 fall in with this entry, by some juvenile officers of H. M. S. Win- 
 chester — 
 
 *• Some Naval Cadets strongly recommend riding instead of walking 
 when you can get a horse cheap' — under which another adds, that 
 he *' strongly recommends riding instead of walking, whether cheap 
 or dare I" 
 
 Another Naval hero makes this entry in all the innocence of his 
 heart — 
 
 ** William Collins master of the Hawk of Glasgow, from Ichaboe 
 bound to Cork for orders— In hopes never to have anything to do with 
 the dung trade !— and God send us all a good passage home to old 
 England- Amen.'' 
 
 Beneath which an Ichaboe skipper, who evidently thought no dirt 
 of the dung trade, has written the iollowing old Scotch proverb — 
 
 " Better a wee Bush, than na Beilds." 
 which is a kind of silent reproof for the other's contempt of the dung 
 dealers. 
 
 I will conclude these extracts in the sensible words of several 
 Olhcers who—" Paid their respects to the scene which furnishes the 
 best antidote to military ambition that the world can yet present." 
 
 These few extracts will enable the reader to form an opinion as to 
 the various feelings and sentiments which arise in the minds of the 
 different visitors to this remarkable shrine of departed greatness. 
 The English are sometimes sentimentally inclined, but mostly addicted 
 to attempting the humorous, and yet withal seldum saying aught in 
 disparagement of Nap leon. They indeed, often appear to forget 
 entirely the object of their visit, and jot down inappropriate memo- 
 randa as if they had been utterly unacquainted with the existence of 
 such a man as the emperor. The French on the other hand, are 
 mostly serious, generally sentimental, and often enough full of bitter- 
 ness against the English, as if they alone had been the cause of the 
 Emperor's overthrow and captivity. 
 
 Their conduct at the Tomb is various in the extreme ; some stand 
 and gaze on the empty grave as if bewildered, or lost in a profound 
 reverie ; others are highly excited, giving vent to Loisy exclamations, 
 invectives, and all the execrations they can muster for the occasion ; 
 some go down on their knees and kiss the very stones, others scorn- 
 fully stamp upon them, and spit in the grave, with every mark of 
 
I 
 
 GUIDE TO 6T. HELENA. 9*} 
 
 diigust and contempt, as if enjoying a flcndigh triumph over the duft 
 and ashes of their country's Idol. 
 
 But in whatsoever way these conflicting feelings exhibit themselves, 
 we may rest assured of this— that so long as hero worship and military 
 glory forms an integral part of the hunian heart, go long will the 
 name and renuun ot Napoleon shine in the page of history and live 
 in every Frenchman's breast— be they Koyalisis, Socialists, or 
 Republicans. 
 
 Marcn{;o, Austerlitz, and Jena, Napoleon and the Empire, arc 
 talismanic names that thrill through every Frenchman's soul, in 
 spite of all they say or do, in spite of all cohflicting claims and 
 interest, amid the strife of parties, the shock of Revolutions, and 
 even the lapse of time, they live logeiher, linked and inseparable, 
 bright as a meteoric flame, and form that wild and phyntom thing 
 called ** glory," which Frenchmen never can despise. There may be 
 some men base enough to spit upon his empty grave, and spurn the 
 ground he laid in ; — ask them if they are not proud of that fiery flag 
 of his, that fait le tour du monde? and vain of all the glorious deeds 
 that hallow it— their acts belie their secret thoughts, and truth will 
 triumph oer their treason. 
 
 But 
 
 "0 Tod ! wie soil ich dass verstehon ? 
 
 " O death ! what's the use of all this talk ! ' 
 
 we cannot bring the dead to life, it is worse than useless getting 
 sentimental, and what is more — its time to go ! let us wind cJr v.eary 
 way, and take a pilgnmage to Long wood. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 A PILGRIMAGE TO LONGWOOD. 
 
 Jai visile Longwood pelerinage persif, et doloreuse ! 
 
 Leaving the Tomb Valley, we proceed along a level road which 
 skirts its southern edge, till we pass under a hill covered with under- 
 wooii, where it turns off to the rifrlit and left, one leading to Long- 
 wood, and the other round the ci.nmtry in the opposite direction, 
 while a third runs up the hill and leads to the western districts of the 
 Island. This spot is called Hutts Gate, and consists of a little school 
 house perched on a knoll, a small cottage with a range of outbuild- 
 ings of somewhat rustic appearance, which combines u shop and 
 tavern under one roof, not unlike many of its congeners, found in the 
 midst of homely English villages, where bumpkins sup their ** auld 
 yui" out of earthen mugs, and sonsie lasses buy their huxter wares, 
 as well as now and then, a yard or so of ribbon to make them smart, 
 when they gang to kirk o' Sundays ! 
 
 Here too, behind that old moss-covered wall, with its rickerty creak- 
 ing entrance gate, is a snug little villa, with a comfortable verandah, 
 and before it a stately row of fine Camilla japonicas, all in flower — 
 red, and white, quite a treat to look upon, besides no end of roses ; 
 and that little grassy ring containiog within its magic bounds a variety 
 of flowers, in all their pride and beauty. What a garden too ! 
 look at the pea( h trees, a goodly sight when they are rigged out in 
 all the glory of their gentle blossoms ; besides the apples, pears, 
 lemon, and pomegranate, make up no inconsiderable show, and 
 display their tempting frnit to great advantage. Lemons and citrons, 
 how fine they look ! and sweet they smell ! reminding thee, O reader, 
 of that Meihgelin Ycleped — a bowl of Punch, a Doctor, or a Bishop, 
 or anything mayhap that blends the fragrant lemon juice with potent 
 eau-de-vie. 
 
 Then there is the kitchen garden running down the slope of the 
 hill, all nice and green and full of peas — green peas — think of that 
 master Brooke ! and look at the ducks waddling among the grass, 
 and grubbing about to make themselves fat and savoury to tickle your 
 palate. 
 
 " How charming to be sure" — says the stranger, after being cooped 
 up for two months on shipboard ; " I should like nothing better than 
 to gather the peas, and shell them myself, it looks so green and 
 rural." 
 
 And so it does good reader; there are the cabbages asking as 
 plainly as they can to be married to some streaky bacon, and put upon 
 the table nice and hot, with a dish of these bouncing beans to keep 
 them company. The potatoes with their fine thin skins, and little 
 dimpled eyes, look so pure and good at heart, that we feel assured 
 they will boil like "balls of flour/' and prove themselves worthy 
 
GUIDE TO bT. HELLNA, •'•> 
 
 panions of ihat good old knight — Sir Loin, decked mil in all ilic 
 bravery of his white horse-radish plumes, and beet-root gem?, as rich 
 and red as rubies, festooned like laurels round a warrior's brow. 
 
 This Hutts Gate is renowned through aU the length and breadth of 
 St. Helena. It is the ultima Thuh of all the Yamslock's jonr^'v^ 
 hopes, and wishes Next to the Tomb and Longwood it is th< 
 point of attraction for strangers and idlers. It is a little roc 
 tavern, ensconced within a pretty garden, famous for its hospitality — 
 for eating, drinking, and festivity • famous for a cook so dexterous, 
 
 it he can make a veal cutlet out of mutton chop, and a laughinj? 
 
 idlord so great a cellarman, that he can con>ert gooseberry wine into 
 
 ritable champagne, so poweiful in its etfervescence, brilliant in 
 
 lour, and rich in flavour, that none can tell the difference unless 
 they have hvcu used to drink other and kindlier stuff, than what is 
 known and sold as champagne in St. Helena. 
 
 It is too an historical place, for it was sometime the residence of 
 IJertrand, the faithful atiendant of Napoleon during his detention on 
 the Island. In this house the ex-cmperor passed many pleasant hours, 
 and whiled away the ennui of his heavy time, in many a frolic with the 
 General's children. He often wandered down the gentle sloj>es of 
 the garden, to the little spring in the valley below, and there under 
 tlie shade of a cluster of willows, communed with himself in silence, 
 
 viewed the past, with all its glories and misfoilunes, and fixed 
 
 pon the little glen, at last to be his final resting place. 
 
 H As it is in the direct road to Longwood, most strangers pay it a 
 
 IP^risit as they pass, and wash down with many a spirit stirring glaj>s, 
 
 the melancholy reliection arising from their journey to the Tomb, 
 
 and prepare themselves to meet* the soul-subduing sadness that dam|>s 
 
 the spirits while wandering round the ruined halls of Longwood. 
 
 It is a general rendezvous for all the ramblers round the country, 
 the goal of all their hungry hopes, and limit of their journey— for 
 who can leave, when once within ils j)leasant and attractive bounds, 
 without at least an half hours worship at the shnne ot Bacchus, and 
 a chat with Charlie Fuller! 
 
 Here may often be met a variety of characters, all worth sketching 
 for a novelist's portfolio Fine fat Dutch captains, with their jolly 
 ribicund faces, iuH of noise and fun, who enjoy their dhrops with 
 great gusto, and wax oratorical as it warms their hearts, stirs up the 
 brain, and sets their tongues in free and easy motion. 
 
 Grave Spaniards full of loud and sonorous phrases, who smack 
 their lips at vino tinio, and j>uiF away at rich and real cigars, as 
 sweet and fragrant as a snifi" of new mown hay. 
 
 Portuguese of swarthy hue, grim slave captains, up to every trick 
 
 ' dodge a British pirate— for so they call our cruisers on the coast , 
 
 ,.'n of pith who like the trade of slaving, and think nothing of be»ng 
 liikcn in the fact ; their ships condemned, and niggers taken from 
 them — it neither stops their courage or their fondness for a social 
 
 k glass, nor makes them lose one single whift' of smoke the less. 
 Gay Frenchmen too, Republicans or Rovalists ; all sworn admirers 
 I of the grand homme, whose empty tomb is just below us, full ol 
 irth and frolic, for ever talking and shrugging up their cthoulders 
 as they make a hit at perfide i4//»ioii -^giving utterance to a Maledic- 
 
5)6 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA, 
 
 the barricades, with now and then a battle of the empire, a shrug 
 for Long-wood, a hearty damn for the tomb, and then a sip at potent 
 eau-de-vie, to set them luughinp:, and get them in good humour once 
 again. 
 
 Yankey Skippers, who reckon their ships can go a bit, and beat the 
 Britishers all to sraa-^h — lick era clean ritiht out, and gue?s they know 
 a trick or two to turn the dollars in, and care no more for navigation 
 laws, tfian Congress does for Rattlesnakes ; and how ihey '11 run from 
 California to China, monopolise the trade, turn the Pacific into a 
 Yankey lake, and guess how soon the world will see that flag of 
 theirs — 
 
 " The Stars and Stripes 
 
 Give John Bull the gripes !'* 
 
 Then there are some British naval officers, mates, middies, and 
 lieutenants who have brought in prizes— rare boys for fun, enjoying 
 themselves on shore, courting all the girls who will let them, and 
 riding all the ho.ses they can get, belter skelter up the hills— alas poor 
 hacks ! h ,w they make them skip along-, holding on by the crupper, 
 saddle bow, and bridle altogether, for f«\ar of shooting over the bows ; 
 and precious spills they get sometimes, but nothing daunted, they 
 board the luckless animals again, and dash along like clippers in a 
 spanking gale Rare fellows these for laughter and good living— no 
 enemies to Bishops, and on friendly terms with Doctors', vast con- 
 sumers of ale and stout, ration rum, and what is better still — that 
 hero's drink, ycleped brandy. The fat of the land is theirs, no 
 twicelaid now, lobsconse, or hashmagandy ; no ekeing out with dry 
 farina, musty biscuit, or caUivanses ; no short allowances on shore, 
 no soft planks to sleep upon, but genuine beds — and mercy on us, how 
 they hug them! its all watch below, unbroken sleep, and pleasant 
 dreams. 
 
 Such are the motley gatherings here, all social, free, and friendly, 
 eating, drinking, and yarning, round a lengthy table, groaning 
 beneath a load of all good things the Island yields, the landlord in 
 attendance, with a sonsie lass or two, to hand the things about, who 
 glide along like fairies— better far than gawky sprawling flunkies, 
 whose awkward antics turn your very teeth, and play havoc with the 
 temper. 
 
 Such is the place, and such is the people that I fell in with one 
 day, after a ramble round this part of the country ; they were all 
 merry, and as I was not mournful myself, I gladly joined to partake 
 of their amusement, as 1 knew some of them before, and had met 
 most of them elsewhere. Amongst them was a jovial Portuguese, 
 tall, stout, brown, and brawny, with raven hair, and black moustaches 
 of no inconsiderable length. He was the captain of a captured slave 
 vessel, which had been condemned, and was waiting for a passage 
 across to Brazil - of course at the expense of the English Government 
 — for " nunkey pays for all !" 
 
 He had been taken more than once, and I happened to ask him by 
 chance how many times he had run into the hands of our cruisers. 
 ** Ah, ah 1" said he, with a shrug of the shoulders, extending his 
 open hand with all the fingers displayed—" Cinco, cinco ! Don Juan 
 Tauro !"— Five times John Bull ; and I dare say it will not be long 
 
GUIDE TO ST. nELENA. 97 
 
 i)crore he re -appears on the same scene, in the same identical 
 character. 
 
 After a while, he got in a maudlin state, and waxed lachrymose, 
 the deep potations he had taken of vino tinto, began to operate upon 
 the heart through the medium of the head, and set him on a singing, 
 or rather growling in this fretful strain — 
 
 " O mcus desditosos dias 
 O meus dias desditosos ; 
 Como vos his saudosos, 
 Sodosos de alegrias, 
 D'alegrias desejosos !" 
 
 for the man of captives, when in such a mood, could feel that captivity 
 even in its tnihicst forni, had its duleful and unwelcome moments. 
 But tliey were of short duration, for a portly Spaniard of facetious 
 turn, took up the strain to a very different text, and let him know 
 that such captivity as his, was something like being chained in the 
 fetters of love, neither hard to bear, or much to be regretted — 
 
 " Tan preciosa es mi prision, 
 
 Soy tan bien aprisionado. 
 Que pido reconvencion, 
 
 Del tierapo que no lo he estado 1'* 
 
 The Portuguese Capitao soon became himself again, a smile spread 
 over his sun-burnt face, his eyes flashed fire — the fire of love — but it 
 was love for drink— da-me de beber—he got it, and soon the glass 
 was emptied ; he poked Don Juan Touro in the ribs, and slapped 
 a little French capfaine on the shoulder, who exclaimed — " A boire^ 
 a boire, Buvons, je bois d la tanti de tout la compagnie /" and forth- 
 with commenced a chorus from Berenger — 
 
 " Ris et chante, chante et ris, 
 Prends tes gants et cours le monde, 
 Mais la bourse vide ou ronde, 
 Reviens dans ton Paris. 
 Ah! Reviens, Ah ! Reviens, Jean de Paris!'* 
 to remind him of the Tagus, and turn his fancies homeward, in spite 
 of all the ups and downs of life, the hits and misses incidental to his 
 trade of nigger filching. It was delivered with shrugs and gestures 
 thoroughly french, which set the black moustachied Capitao laughing, 
 as well as all the jovial souls then present. An English middie stir- 
 ing up a bowl of punch, doled out a glass to all the thirsty sinner^ 
 round, then helped himself, and essayed to sing. Oh ye ravens ! such 
 song — with a voice of thunder — sung to divers dislocated tunes 
 inbled into one— 
 
 " Away, away, I may not stand 
 
 Where flowers and foliage be. 
 This dull small quiet spot of land 
 
 Is all too tame for me. 
 Three times I've traversed round the world 
 
 Within yon Frigate free, 
 A pain her canvas is unfurled 
 
 Hurrah ! I 'm off to sea !" 
 
98 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 All mirth will have an end, joy will change to sadness, time flies 
 and sinks the present in the past, the future opens on another scene, 
 noise sinks to silence, a pause ensues, and all is still, till broken by 
 the word " Longwood"— drawled through the nose with true Parisian 
 twang — Vamos hasta Longwood, echoes through the room — therefore 
 to Longwood let us go I A pilgrimage beginning from a tavern ! Yea, 
 good loader, did not Chaucer of illustrious memory do the same — 
 even from the Tabard, when l;e began that holy jaunt of his to 
 Canterbury ; and wherefore not a gvidcj a simple fellow such as I, 
 with all my motley friends to i)oot ? 
 
 Leaving Hutts Gate, the road winds on the summit of a narrow 
 ridge, which separates the deep valleys far below it on either side ; 
 on the right is a very pleasing view. The wooded heights of the 
 central ridge of hills rise up high above their neighbours, and show 
 their outlines clearly in the deep blue sky, when not enshrined in the 
 cloudy vapours, common to this part of the Island. Seen through 
 the mists they loom large, and appear more bold and lofty than they 
 really are ; their woody gorges seeming then of greater depth and 
 magnitude, than when viewed through a cloudless medium. They 
 are green to the summit, and on a sunny day are both bright and 
 beautiful, and form a pleasant boundary to the landscape. 
 
 The valley immediately on oui right is called Beaters, and is as 
 attractive in appearance as any in the Island, having many smaller 
 lateral valleys diverging from it, which gradually lose themselves 
 among the sloping sides of the numerous hills juttmg from the chief 
 valley at. their feet. On the side of the valley opposite the Longwood 
 road, are several villas, some perched on the hill-side, others on little 
 knolls, generally backed by small plantations of fir, whose dark 
 masses form a welcome contrast to the brighter green of the little 
 grassy fields scattered around them ; while high above, are the tree 
 clad tops of two lofty hills, one crowned with a little cottage snugly 
 ensconced in a wild and disordered, but not unpleasing flower garden, 
 from whence is obtained a beautiful view of the surrounding country. 
 
 The principal valley winds in the direction of Longwood, and for 
 some distance follows the course of the naked slopes of the plateau 
 on which it is placed, after which it diverges, and then suddenly 
 changes into little better than a deep atid naked glen. 
 
 Below the point where it diverges are one or two cottages in the 
 bed of the narrowed valley, surrounded by gardens, which however, 
 are not in a very flourishing condition, though the few trees in them 
 are as welcome in the landscape here, as an oasis on the sandy level 
 of an Arabian desert. 
 
 On the left of our road, after passing round the skirts of a lumpish 
 hill, the DeviVs Punch Bowl opens into view— a circular glen of 
 gieat depth, with sloping sides. In its centre is a little hill with a 
 clump of trees on the top, which splits the valley into a couple of 
 ravines, and cc.nsiderably diversifies its general features. The further 
 side is covered with grass and brushwood, while that nearest the 
 road is partially barren, and cut into innumerable gullies. It suddenly 
 deepens, and becomes perfectly barren, farming a pass between its 
 bold and rugged boundaries so narrow, that it can only accommodate 
 and find room for the rocky bed of a stream, which drains the over- 
 hanging hills in the wet season. 
 
GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 99 
 
 It has many points of interest, and offers scvf ral bits of scenery of 
 1 singularly wild and romantic character for the sketch book of a 
 '• ady artist, partial to exercising his pencil on what is nigged, bold, 
 md desolate. 
 
 As tho valley deepens it becomes more wild and ronumtie ; its 
 ravines and fissures more numerous, and its rorks more rugged and 
 broken, abounding with falls, dark glens, and shallow caves. 
 
 Though not equal in grandeur to the Aberglasslyn pass in North 
 Wales, it is quite as wild, and certainly more repulsive, being equally 
 desolate and lonely, and quite as rugged. 
 
 But there is Longwood in view, we are approaching near its melan- 
 choly precincts. Let us ascend this little knoll by the roadside, take 
 a look round, and examine tho scenery. There beyond the wooded 
 holm of Longwood, is a long level plain stretching away with a 
 gradual ascent till it ends in the lofly cloud cajiped summit oi Flagstaff" 
 IJili, dimly seen through the mists. 
 
 It is Deadwood Plain, the largest in the Island, dotted over with a 
 few sheep and cattle, who pick up a living from the dry and parched 
 grass on its gently undulating surface. Running down from it on the 
 right and left, are numerous gullies, utteily bare and naked, but 
 richly variegated with every variety of coloured marl, from purple 
 to glaring white. These gullies soon change into ravines, deep and 
 dismal, utterly barren, and fearfully wild and rupged, as if from the 
 result of some violent convulsion of nature. Walls of basalt show 
 themselves in every direction, covered with layers of lava of immense 
 thickness, alternating with beds of vitrified clinkers, and heaps of 
 partially calcined stones jumbled together in wild and inextricable 
 tonfusion. The whole landscape is broken into rocky hills, steep and 
 precipitous, naked and stone strewed, abounding in chasms, and lines 
 of columnar basalt, so shattered and broken, so loose and splintery, 
 that they appear as if they would thunder headlong down when 
 shaken by tho first blast of wind that sweeps over them in their whirl- 
 ing course. While beyond them all is the dark and sombre mass of 
 the desolate Barn— a huge promontory of rock jutting into the sea, 
 without a single patch of vegetation on its stony sides to redeem it 
 from utter barrenness. Thick wreaths of cloud are struggling on its 
 rugged head as if to shut it out, and hide its harsh repulsiveness from 
 Bi^ht. 
 
 To the right are broken valleys, streaked with marls of varied 
 colour, strewn with stores, and absolutely sterile ; above them rise 
 the dreary peaks of Prosperous Bay, and naked plains adjoining, a 
 wilderness of gullies, rocks, and stony mounds, with here and there a 
 lonely patch of brown and sickly rushes, a clump of samphire, or 
 bush ot stunted dogwood, peeping from among the mass of rocks and 
 splinters scattered round to make the scene more wretched, by this 
 idence of its hopeless and distressing barrenness, 
 Rising on our left over the deep valley before described, are seen 
 uie wooded heights of the Alarm House, High Knoll, standing 
 boldly out against the deep azure of the cloudless sky ; and looming 
 through the misis, the peaks of distant hills ; while in our rear the 
 cloudy summits of the central range of mountams clothed with grass 
 and wood, rise up and form a nible contrast to the sterile nakedness 
 Rrouud. Longwood itsclt, standing on its high plateaUf ensconced in 
 
100 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 a clustering holm of trees, seems like a Goshen springing from the 
 wilderness, but — 
 
 ** 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view," 
 
 and deceives the eye with semblance of a not unpleasing place, that 
 will not bear a close inspection. From afar, its extensive range of 
 roofs, and numerous gables peeping from among the trees, look like 
 the little cots and cabins of a rural village, for it is a straggling pile, 
 so placed with all its fronts and angles as to present itself with full 
 effect to every point from which it may be seen, whether from the 
 distant hills, or by the sinuous roads approaching it, till the gay 
 illusion is dissolved by entering through its decayed and crumbling 
 gates. 
 
 There are the gates before us, rusty and time worn, leaning 
 helplessly against the dingy wall for support. Before them in a bend 
 of the road, is a little clump of firs running down the slope of a hill, 
 mingled with hedges of red geraniums, which enclose a patch of land 
 less sterile than the wastes around. 
 
 At the entrance are two cottages, once snug lodges, but now little 
 better than ruinous cabins, dark with dirt, and dilapidated by age 
 and neglect. 
 
 Adjoining the one on the left, is a dressed stone, which indicates 
 the distance of the spot from James' Town, as also its elevation above 
 the sea— 1777 feet. 
 
 Passing the entrance by some mud walls, and wooden buildings, 
 we reach a common farm gate, which admits us at once on the historic 
 sward of Longwood . It is a long narrow field, like the entrance to 
 a country seat. On the right is a thick impenetrahle hedge of Budlea, 
 with its rough gray leaves and yellow flowers ; on the left a clump 
 or two of firs, and a row of melancholy gumwood trees, looking sad 
 and mournful, as if in memory of the man whose name has sanctified 
 the place, and made them interesting to the strangers eye. Their 
 straggling branches are bent by the winds, and bowed down in many 
 a strange fantastic form, while long festoons of grizzly moss swing 
 from their thin leaved twigs, wave in the winds, and droop with slow 
 and pensive motion among their pale and ashy leaves. 
 
 There is a striking air of melancholy about these trees, their aspect 
 is sad and mournful, worse than yew or cypress, forlorn and miserable, 
 they form the appropriate guardians of a place — 
 
 " In which there dwells nor man, por beast at all, 
 With trees all knotty, knarry, barren, old. 
 With sharp dead limbs, and hideous to behold, 
 Through which there runs a ramble and a sough, 
 As if the wind would shatter every bough," 
 
 and leave them like the building which they guard, a clustered pile 
 of ruins crumbling piecemeal from the scene. 
 
 A straggling path, worn through the sun-burnt grass, runs through 
 the centre of the narrow field, turns suddenly to the right, till lost 
 among the straggling branches of a hedge, behind which is seen in 
 front, and on a level with the grass, the long slate roofs of the new 
 house intended for Napoleon— but which he never occupied. It is 
 built in a hollow, almost at the threshold of the cabin where he died. 
 
r.'T'TDr: to ST. IIF.r.ENA. 1^1 
 
 ^POn the left is a little wicket gate, stuck in a ratrgcd hedge, ti<-<l to 
 
 P^ the post with bits of rope, aiul like all aroHiid, hurryiiiff on to ruin. 
 
 Passing through the gate, we enter into a narrow field, a sort of 
 
 liomcstead, and there before us stands the empty and d38erted balls 
 
 where Napoleon lingered out the last sad years of his strange and 
 
 varied life. Lonely, black, and ruinous, it looms upon the eye in all 
 
 its spectral ghastliness, saddening to the heart, and oppressive to the 
 
 lind, a fearful lesson of the instability of human grandeur, that we 
 
 lin could wish was but '' the baseless fabric of a vision," and not a 
 
 sad reality. 
 
 Proceeding up the narrow enclosure, we reach the front entrance 
 to the house. It has a little trellised porch of light materials now ia 
 a tolerable state of preservation. It was once of a light green colour, 
 but the dark surface of the wood is seen on every edge ; it is riddled 
 with names and initials cut on its surface, and scribbled over in all 
 directions. It is ascended by one or two dilapidated steps, partially 
 covered with moss and grass. The walls in front under the little 
 porch, as well as the door, are covered over with all kind of names 
 and hieroglyphics intended for names, with a pretty plentiful sprink- 
 ling of dates, legible and illegible, 
 
 Passing the door, we enter a room of moderate size, with windows 
 
 on either side, for it is a projection from the main building. It is fast 
 
 -•umbling into irretrievable ruin; the ceiling, floor, and walls, are 
 
 like, all time-shattered and miserably decayed ; huge cobwebs hang 
 
 m thick and heavy festoons in every corner, and with dirt and dust 
 
 obscure the light glimmering in through the windows. 
 
 The whole of the walls are lined with names of visitois from all 
 nations, in every variety of hands, some being ambitiously large, 
 others small, many mere initials, with here and there the traces of a 
 sentence, long since effaced by time or other means. Once there 
 might be seen, written in large and legible characters, these well 
 known lines — 
 
 " One murder makes a villian, millions a hero." 
 Under which some Frenchman had scribbled in a sudden fit of indig- 
 nation, doubtless arising from a misinterpretation — •• You lie — you 
 goddam Englishmans" 
 
 This Room was used for billiards, but served the fallen Emperor 
 fur other purposes as well ; it commands a rather wild, but not exten- 
 sive view. 
 
 From this dreary apartment we pass into a small and miserably 
 
 dark room, in a state of utter and hopeless ruin. In the middle is a 
 
 huge lumbering machine for crushing corn for cattle. Through the 
 
 thickly coated windows a feeble light filters in, and saves it from the 
 
 harge of almost utter darkness. Part of tlie roof has fallen— that 
 
 ver the very spot where Napoleon breathed his last — for this wretched 
 
 >len is the room in which he died. At best, it must have been no 
 
 enviable abode ; but now in ruins, it is indeed a soul aflHicting place, 
 
 nd fills the raind with melancholy retrospections — so lonely and so 
 
 icsolate it touches home, and wrings a throb of sympathy fiom every 
 
 Heart. 
 
 In this half roofless room, amidst the wild contentions of the 
 elements, the "spoilt child of destiny" laid stretched in mortal agony 
 \i[H»n the bed of death. 
 
102 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 The eve of death came on with thick mists and sleet, heavy 
 vapoury clouds hung lowering on the mountain summits near, and shut 
 them out from view. The winds howled fiercely in wild and angry 
 gusts, among the trees surrrounding this his last abiding place on 
 earth. The rain whirled down in heavy showers, and jiattered on 
 the wooden roof with dull and hollow sound ; the sea was up, and 
 booming loudly on the distant shore, seemed like the dying cchos of 
 a far, but furious cannonade. 
 
 The sun went down that night in cloudy darkness, obscured and 
 ominous, and rose again amidst the roar of high conflicting elements. 
 The winds increased and whistled wildly through the breaking trees, 
 lore them up and laid them prostrate on the wet and soddened ground 
 — amongst the rest Napoleon's favorite willow, beneath whose leafy 
 shade he often sat in deep and earnest reverie. The rain fell fast 
 and furious, driven about in whirls and eddies, it roared and rumbled 
 round the tempest shaken dwelling like the confused noise of mar- 
 shalled masses, rushing to and fro in fierce and angry strife. Mingled 
 with the ocean surge booming dull and heavy on the rocky beach, it 
 fell upon the dying Emperoi-'s ear, woke up the *' ruling passion strong 
 in death," set free the mind, and sent it wandering through a visioned 
 or a retrospective world. The shadowy realms of darkening space, 
 even to eternity's awful verge, were peopled by that wandering mind 
 of his ; he saw it filled with myriads of crowding forms, and heard 
 their conflict in the raging of the elementary war without. The 
 sound of wind and rain and sea, confused in one chaotic roar by a 
 mysterious process of the half delirious mind, fell on the emperor's 
 ear like the too familiar sound of the charge of columns, rush of lines, 
 and jingling onslaught of cuirassed warriors, sweeping on to meet a 
 fast advancing foe. 
 
 His shattered frame worn weak with long disease, lay stretched 
 upon that bed of death, life still lingering in the stronghold of the 
 heart ; but every throb that sent its purple tide in feeble gushes 
 through the veins, lost strength, and flagged and laboured on in vain, 
 to stop life's vital heat from filtering drop by drop away. 
 
 There he laid, still and motionless as an alabaster efiigy, save but 
 in a weak and feeble heaving of the breast, which rose and fell at 
 every laboured inspiration, less marked and visible as death's cold 
 touch crept on, and stole with slow but certain step, to hurry out the 
 last faint spark of life that lingered in the scarcely throbbing heart. 
 
 Long deep drawn inspirations, with intermitting periods of insensi- 
 bility's repose, came on from pure exhaustion , from time to time 
 bnef words and mutterings escaped bis blanched and clammy lips. 
 
 The storm raged on, increased in fury and confusion, the sullen 
 boom of distant waters, floods of whirling rain, and howling of the 
 wind, brought on the shades of evening, as if to veil from sight 
 his lingering agony in that hour of death. Amid the fierce conten- 
 tions of the elemental war, when the stormy day had nearly reached 
 its close, the certain signs of fast approaching dissolution, came 
 like heralds to announce the severance of a mighty spirit from its 
 drossy tenement of earthly clay, 
 
 A long drawn inspiration slowly swelled the dying emperor's 
 breast; faint unintelligible raurmurings were heard; a glassy film 
 spread round the fastly fixing eyes; a deathlike pause — anothtr 
 
(ii:iDE TO ST. HELENA. 103 
 
 inspiration, and tete d'Armie-^hroke from hit lips, the iaw fell, 
 ana all that was mortal of Napoleon, laid stretched in death in that 
 \HJ0T unkingly room, while his iromortal epirit winged its way 
 through the wild contentions of the warring elements, 
 
 "To that bourne whence no traveller returns." 
 
 to loam how glory lares in re alms where war and strife are never 
 known. — iS'tc transit gloria mundil 
 
 Wc entrr next a little lobby, as dark and mincos as all the 
 wretched rooms around. On the left is the little cabinet, or tojH>- 
 
 fraphic room, so often mentioned in the Saint Helena memoirs. 
 t is now occupied by one or two farm servants, and like the rest is 
 sadly dilapidated. 
 
 Passing onwards through a door-wny, we enter a kind of stable 
 yard, and turning suddenly again to the right, wc enter what was 
 once the bed room of Napoleon, now a stable strewed with Utter, 
 with racks and mangers, and all the et cetcras of farm stabling 
 fitted up. It bears no trace of its former use, all such like indica- 
 tions have long since vanii^hed. In this room the emperor laid in 
 state after death. Well niight young Bertrand exclaim— ^ue/Ze 
 profanationl au tomheau c'etait de femotion, ici de la stupeur. 
 
 Viewed externally it appears an extensive pile, but all these long 
 rows of black sheds and stables jutting frcm the main residence were 
 not there during Napoleon's residence, they were brought from 
 Deadwood plain, where they had served for the soldiers stationed 
 there. Close adjoining the house are square yards enclosed with 
 rough stone walls, used for cattle lairs and piggeries, beside a 
 wooden hut or two, where resides the custos of the place— an 
 antient soldier oud his wild Meg Merrilies of a wife. 
 
 Up in a corner formed by the projection of the Billiard room, is 
 the lumbering gear for driving the null, which so desecrates the 
 room in which the emperor breathed his last. Taken altogether it 
 is a pile of universal ruin, crumbling down piecemeal, and doomed 
 at no remote time to disappear entirely ; the memory of Napoleon 
 seems powerless in its protection ; in spite of all its associations it 
 will perish ; the Genius loci, has already fled, and left it to its fate. 
 
 The gardens are all gone, a lawn of parched and stunted grass is 
 all around, and there beneath a clump of straggling trees, is a little 
 tank lined with stone- Napoleon s fish pond, half choked with grasa 
 and weeds, but still in preservation He had it stocked with fishes, 
 and sought for amusement in attending them, and watching their 
 progressive growth— but they sickened one by one and died ; the 
 incident alfected him, he fell it keenly, and exclaimed in bitterness of 
 anguish- " Every thing I lo^e— every thing that belongs to me is 
 immediately struck. Heaven and mankuid unite to afflict me." 
 
 Such was the change wrought by adversity and dist ase in the mind 
 of Napoleon — he who formerly could sec whv,le regiments of men 
 mown down before him without compunction or a change of coun- 
 
 nance — now sighed in bitterness of heart for the loss of a few 
 liscrablc fishes. Not far away from the house, through a little clump 
 of trees, is the pavilion, now the firm residence, but formerly 
 occupied by General Bertrand while attending on the Emperor. 
 
 Arthur Bertrand, the son of the old general, was born in this 
 
101 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA, 
 
 house, of which he appears to he not a little vain, for in his account 
 of the exhumation of Napoleon's remains, he states that on the day 
 of his birth, his mother presented him to the emperor with the follow- 
 ing address—" Sire, j'ai I'honneur de vous presenter le premier Fran- 
 ^ais qui soit entre k Longwood sans la permission du gouvernour !" 
 which he also uses in the title page of his book, detailing his visit to 
 the Island. 
 
 Immediately in front of the crumbling home of Napoleon, below the 
 brow of a gently falling hill, is seen the new residence built for his 
 use ; it is a large and spacious residence, far more extensive and con- 
 venient than the old one. He took a strong dislike to it, and nothing 
 could persuade him to occupy it— he never once entered its walls. It 
 stands on the side ot a gently sloping hill, and is surrounded with a 
 ditch now partially choked up, and a low wall surmounted by cast 
 iron railing — it was the sight of these walls and rails that gave the 
 emperor such an insuperable diSgust to the new residence, for he said 
 they would constantly remind him that he was a pirsoner of war — au 
 milieu d'une paix prqfonde. The greater part of these rails are now 
 however covered over by shrubs and flowery plants, while the 
 slopes of the ditch are clothed with grass, and numerous patches of 
 the gaudy stertian, whose fire*coloured flower nods in the breeze in all 
 directions, and enlivens the scene by its floral brilliance. 
 
 Longwood Farm is the most extensive in the Island, but the worst 
 cultivated; it is in fact the only one where the fields are extensive 
 and of English appearance ; the whole plateau surrounding the house 
 consisting of about thirteen hundred acres. The grounds in the rear 
 of the house are covered with open straggling woods, principally of 
 fir and gum wood trees. The drives of the emperor may be still 
 traced, though in many parts overgrown with bushes of the wild 
 Bringal, and covered with short stunted grass, 
 
 His rides were extensive, but overlooked in every direction. He 
 could not stir without being seen from some of the numerous signal 
 houses perched on the neighbouring hills. On Deadwood Plain 
 close at hand, was an encampment of sodiers, whose evolutions he 
 could easily see from the little porch at his entrance door. At 
 nightfall they mounted guard at Longwood house, and a chain of 
 centinels meshed him round in every direction. He was closely 
 watched, and keenly felt the degradation, but such was in his destiny 
 — quod scriptum scriptum— and he had no power to alter it. 
 
 Longwood is an attractive point to all strangers visiting the Island, 
 and excites in every mind strong feelings of sympathy for the fallen 
 Emperor. The smallness of the main buildings attract immediate 
 attention, and carries the mind at once back to all the splendid palaces 
 he conimanded in every part of continental Europe. The contrast is 
 saddening; the contemplation of these black and ruined halls works 
 up the feelings, and brings in a train of melancholy thoughts ; emotion 
 fills the heart, and excites disgust, bids us hurry from the place, so 
 wretched in its aspect, and so lamentably desolate. 
 
 Yet there is a time when these deserted halls appear to be both 
 bright and beautiful. When the last rays of the setting sun strike up 
 the valleys, and bathe it in a flood of wavering light — glows on its 
 blackened gables, and shattered windows — spreads among the trees 
 and hills, and lights it up in one broad sheet of deeply crimsoned 
 
GUIDE TO 8T. HELENA. 105 
 
 flame, intense and beautiful, while all around is indiatinctly seen 
 througli the fastly darkening shades of night. 
 
 It then appears as if the genius of war was holding rerel there, and 
 glory had come down to join her on her fiery throne, to hallow the 
 scene, and scatter her bright undying rays around, to sanctify the spot 
 where her favoured, but too froward child, had breathed his last in 
 exile, agony, and hopeless grief. 
 
 That ruddy flame of gorgeous light comes streaming from the 
 " sun of Austcrlitz," and lingers over Napoleon's ruined home at 
 cTcr)- cloudless eventide— 
 
 Intensely brilliant and serene. 
 Illuming all the varied scene ; 
 Wreathed like a pall in halo's spread, 
 Eternal o'er the mighty dead ; 
 The light of glory o'er the grave — 
 Where slept the spirit of the brave. 
 
 After a long repose the remains of Napoleon were exhumed, and 
 rendered back to France. It was his dying wish to repose on the 
 banks of the Seine. 
 
 France responded to that wish of his, and looked to future time for 
 its fulfilment. That time arrived. France applied to England, and 
 England gave consent to his removal. His lonely grave and ruined 
 home has been a place of pilgrimage to thousands of enamoured 
 devotees. 
 
 The grave is empty now — a phantom of the past, but yet a sad 
 reality that still can draw a sympathising tear from manly eyes ; none 
 can tread that silent vale without emotion. 
 
 The memory of the man is there — a spell that captivates the 
 heart— he rules us from his urn — thoughts wander through the mist of 
 years — breaks misfortunes dusky veil, and plants him full before us 
 in all the brilliance of his great unrivalled glory. 
 
 There is a grandeur about the man that time assails in vain — be 
 looms gigantic through the past, and lives in memory as the greatest 
 man of modern times — he stands alone preeminent, like Mount Blanc 
 above the lofty Alps, or Chimborazo, sun-lit, above the snowy heads 
 of all the Andes mighty and terrific range. 
 
 The Belle Poule, and her sister vessels, anchored in St. Helena's 
 little bay, under the command of Prince de Joinville, and socn made 
 preparations to fulfil their mission. Among those on board were 
 men who shared the emperor's exile, and lived with him in his 
 captivity — devoted men returned to carry out their master's dying 
 wish — iJertrand, Gourgaud, Las Cases, and Marchaud, whose names 
 are linked for ever with Napoleon, and St. Helena — the friends of 
 lus adversity, and faithful when defection seemed a virtue, once more 
 they wandered through tl eir prison haunts, reviewed the lonely and 
 deserted halls of Longwood, mourned o'er its hopeless desolation — 
 the past overwhelmed them with all its sad associations— with heavy 
 hearts they turned away and left it then for ever— a spell was on 
 them, and they felt — 
 
 ** A grief too deep for tears V 
 But where was Montholon ? could he be absent such a time as 
 his ? could ho forget tho master whom he loved so well ? had death 
 i;d time a power to snap the link that bound them in adversity ? had 
 
106 GUIDE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 affection lost its power, and reverence its devotion ? why was Mon- 
 tholon away at such a time, and not there with Bertrand and Las 
 Cases ? 
 
 He was at Ham, a prisoner, through devotion to his master's name, 
 but his heart was with his friends at St. Helena — he appealed to 
 France to let him sail upon that painful pilgrimage, but his appeal 
 was all in vain — misfortune had him in her grasp, and was loth to let 
 him go, ev^^n to a scene of sad remembrances and sorrow. 
 
 Napoleon died amidst a storm of wind and rain— in wind and rain 
 his exhumation was begun. The sky was dark with cloud and mist, 
 the night was cold and showery, the vale in which the tomb is placed 
 was wet and miry — so deep, the very anvil of the smiths engaged 
 upon the work sunk down at every blow — the men were ankle high 
 in mud and slush. 
 
 They began the work a little after midnight, and by seven in the 
 morning had reached the heavy stone that closed the inner vault — 
 the stone was raised, and the coffin stood revealed in perfect preserva- 
 tion, with all its nails as bright and clean as when first driven in 
 their place. 
 
 It was slowly raised, and carried to a tent prepared for its reception, 
 There, after the lapse of nearly twenty years repose in the ground 
 it was opened, and the mortal remains of Napoleon were found 
 perfect and unchanged— just as the spirit left them when it fled to 
 wander in eternity. 
 
 He seemed asleep— so little was he changed— his features were 
 perfect— that small right hand of his appeared almost a living thing, 
 of flesh and blood. His antient friends and fellow exiles beheld him 
 there, just as they had placed him after death some twenty years 
 before. Emotion touched their hearts, big round tears came trickling 
 from their cells, dropped down the furrowed cheeks of aged men, 
 together there ai they had been in many a bloody field before, when 
 he whose cold and soulless frame they gazed upon, had led them 
 through its fury, to honor and to victory. 
 
 They had seea him in his proudest hours — in exile and death — they 
 closed his grave, and now they saw him raised again to journey on to 
 France, and rest amidst his antient warriors — in that proud home of 
 theirs, the Invalides. 
 
 Amid the roar of many guns, the body was embarked, and in a 
 few brief hours had left for ever Helena's rocky shores. 
 
 He has conferred an immortality upon this lonely Isle which time 
 can never touch, while a single rock remains to show its head above 
 the blue Atlantic wave— his name and memory — his glory and misfor- 
 tune — will shed undying interest round its narrow and surf-beaten 
 bounds. 
 
 That ruined dwelling place and empty tomb of his, may vanish in 
 the lapse of years, but history has enrolled them in her never-fading 
 page, to pass them down to ages yet unborn, in awful evidence of 
 the instability of human grandeur, and the uselessness of all its self- 
 styled glory. 
 
 With all his kingdoms, crowns, wars, and victories, his glory and 
 undying name, mistortune, captivity and death, the unseen hand that 
 writes him in the Book of Fate, records and registers him amongst 
 unnumbered millions more — 
 
 Napoleon Infelix I 
 
A 
 
 SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 OP THE 
 
 ISLAND SAINT HELENA. 
 
 The barren and precipitous shores of the now historical Island of 
 St. Helena, were for the first time seen frowning in solitary grandeur 
 over the blue waters of the South Atlantic, on the twenty-first day 
 of May, in the year of grace J 502, that day being the anniversary of 
 the Empress Heleva — a Saint in Roman Catholic Calendar. 
 
 The Island has been claimed as one of the discoveries of the adven- 
 trous Vasco de Game, but not on very conclusive grou.ids: the honor 
 is unquestionably due to the hardy sailors of the brave old Commo- 
 dore Juan dc Nova Castella, commander of a Portuguese fleet, sent 
 to the East Indi*»s to reinforce De Cabral, their Commander-in-chief, 
 in that part of the world. 
 
 It appears from the writings of Osorio, that as soon as the Portu- 
 guese had discovered the Island, they landed upon it to enquire into its 
 value and productions, and we are told by some writer?, not without 
 the loss of one of their vessels — but of this nothing appears to be 
 certain. 
 
 It is stated, however, that the sailors " drew on shore her weather 
 beaten sides, and all the armoury and tackling, building with the 
 timber a Cappell in this valley, from thence called Chappell Valley," 
 — although nothing is said as to the policy of building a Chapel in the 
 valley before it was occupied by houses or inhabitants. 
 
 On examining the Island they found the only living things upon it 
 were seals, turtle, sea fowls, and sea lions — a very limited catalogue 
 to what it now possesses. 
 
 Some of the historians of the Portuguese voyages indulge in a 
 romantic story, about a miserable renegade of the name of Fernandez 
 Lopez, who appears to have mixed himself up in the wars between 
 the Portuguese and the native chiefs in India. He, unfortunately for 
 himself, embraced the losing side, and was surrendered to his indignant 
 countrymen by Rotzomo Cam, who had recently undergone the 
 miseries of a defeat by the troops of Alphonzo Albuquerque, near the 
 town of Goa, who compelled Rotzomo to yield up all the renegades 
 and deserters who had joined his standards to fight against their own 
 pountrymen. 
 
 No sooner had they fallen into the power of Albuquerque, than he 
 amused bimself by mutilating bis unfortunate oaptives, whom he 
 
2 A SKETCH OF TUE HISTORY 
 
 caused to have their noses, ears, right hands, and thumbs of the left 
 cut off, thus branding them as traitors, and himself as a brute. 
 
 Thus disgraced and mutilated, Fernandez Lopez felt no wish to 
 return home to his native land, and he appears to have had means to 
 induce the Portuguese authorities to allow him to settle on the then 
 uninhabited Island of St. Helena, accompanied by a few negro slaves, 
 who thus became its first colonists. 
 
 This event occurred in the year 1513, but in what part of the Island, 
 he took up his abode nothing appears to be known, nor indeed as to 
 how long he enjoyed life and solitary power within its surf beaten 
 bounds. 
 
 If we are to believe the narrative ''rf'wn Portuffhcse, compagno di 
 Odardo Barhoso, quel fu sopra la nave Vittoria del anno mdxix," 
 who professes to have been on board the good ship Vittoi-ia in the 
 year 1519, it would, seem that Lopez was then alive on the Island, - 
 for the narrative asserts that he was at that time its sole occupant, 
 " e non vi e hahitatione alcuna se non d^un huomo Portuyhese, il 
 quail non ha se non una mano, e una pisda, senza naso, e senza 
 orecchie, e si chiama Fornam Lopeniy^ i. e. — " we saw no habitation, 
 but that of a Portuguese man, who had but one hand, one foot, 
 was without nose or ears, and was called Fornam Lopera" — who 
 appears by this description to have been shorn of a foot as well as of 
 his nose and ears, as in the other accounts we have of him. 
 
 The Portuguese were not slow in perceiving the advantage which 
 an Island placed as St. Helena is, would be to them in their voyages, 
 stocked it with " rxoaf*. Asses, Hogs, and other Cattle ^'^ which very 
 soon increased and spread over the Island, so that the solitary Lopez 
 would be pretty well provided for on his first arrival in the matter 
 of Goat and Hog flesh. As he had slaves with him he might soon 
 cultivate a patch of land, and grow sufficient vegetables, not only 
 for his own use, but for the accommodation of any ship which might 
 honor him with a call, so that we have every reason to suppose he 
 was the first merchant who offered his wares to " passengers" on 
 their arrival in his lonely bay. 
 
 As the Portuguese ships, to and from India, in the course of their 
 tedious voyages, often required fresh meat and vegetables when they 
 arrived at a place like St. Helena, they did all their limited means 
 would allow them to do in introducing a variety of birds and animals 
 into the Island, which soon spread over it, multiplied, and answered 
 all their wishes. 
 
 In this manner and for the same reasons, many edible roots and 
 vegetables of different sorts, as well as fruit trees, were introduced, 
 so that in a little time the wilderness changed its colours and grew 
 into a garden, stocked with pleasant fruit aijd useful vegetables. 
 
 As the Island was pretty well covered with wood and scrubby 
 jungles, Lopez would have no difficulty in fitting up a comfortable 
 abode for himself and his few slaves in any part of his new terri- 
 tories tliat might tickle his fancy — for like Alexander Selkirk he 
 could say, •* I am lord of all I survey." 
 
 And as he had been unfortunate in the wars, it is a pleasant thing 
 to imagine the exiled soldier sitting at ease under the shade of an 
 Ebony tree ruminating on the follies of mankind — his own in particular 
 
OP TiAi:. ioi^A.My o i . i m i ., , \ \ . O 
 
 — and rcjoiciiii^' that lie had at last found u ji<'a'<'a'ul(r home, far from 
 the haunts of *' busy men," where lie could wander in a romanlic 
 wilderness, f,'azc on nature in a stale of primitive simplicity, and to the 
 murmuring music of the sea, otfor up his daily orisons to the bounteous 
 dispenser of all that he saw around hiui— his rocky home, and 
 lM)undless ocean. 
 
 After Lopez, the Island appears to have been the abode of a self- 
 constituted hermit — a l-'ranciscan, who is reported to have led a very 
 austere life, but his austerity seems to have been directed against tho 
 wild goats then abounding in the Island 
 
 He combined trade with austerity, and carried on a great traffic in 
 skins, was recluse in wet weather, and enjoyed the lively plea^iures 
 of the chase when it was fine, or when he had to make up a cargo of 
 skins for some trafficing sinner, whose gold disturbed the meditations of 
 this very recluse Franciscan, and drew him from his hermitage in the 
 woods to partake of the traders good cheer, and make up for any 
 unpleasant abstinence his austerity — or want of provisions — had com- 
 pelled him to observe. 
 
 The proceedings of this Friar Tuck, like Franciscan, at length 
 
 used the ire of the Portuguese governtnent, and their sea Captains 
 who began to find goats llesh a scarce commodity when they touched 
 at the Island ; if they asked for flesh, they were answered with a 
 bundle of indigestable skins, so to put a stop to the business, they 
 turned this austere recluse out of the Island, and sent him adrift 
 without consulting his convenience, or fearing the anger of his worthy 
 patron. Saint Francis. 
 
 Mention is al o made of four runaway slaves, who escaped from a 
 ship in the bay, and fled into the woody heights in the interior, where 
 they increased and multiplied to the number of twenty. 
 
 They, of course, had to live the best way they could, and their natural 
 sagacity soon infonned them that the easiest way of getting a living, 
 was by levying black mail on the live stock, treasured on the Island 
 for the benefit of the Portuguese Mariners. 
 
 The Portuguese appear to have been very unfortunate in their 
 transactions, for no sooner did they get the Island pretty well stocked, 
 than in comes a worthy Franciscan recluse to reduce it ; by the time 
 they got rid of him, they were blessed with a colony ot slaves, who 
 fared sumptuously on their meat till the stock was pretty well 
 exhausted, and so left nothing for the poor sailors when they arrived 
 in their scurvy stricken carracks. 
 
 This state of things was not to be borne with impunity, so they 
 decreed the utter extermination of this goat consuming race. 
 
 But they were not easily to be found, the country was wild, full of 
 rocky eminences, and covered with wood, so that it was a work of 
 time before this free and independent colony could be persuaded or 
 compelled to leave their pleasent quarters. As soon as a ship hove in 
 sight, they returned to their holes in the rocks, or the recesses of the 
 woods, and kej)t out of s.ght till the danger had gone by, when they 
 ventured out and engaged theniselves after the fashion of their fathers, 
 by hunting the goats, and making great feasts at the expence of their 
 ci-devant masters. 
 
 All things have ua end—and so at last their hunting and feasting 
 
4 A SKETCfH OP TflE HIStORY 
 
 was stopped, but not without a great deal of trouble and annoyance 
 on the part of the Portuguese. 
 
 After getting rid of all these plagues, the Island appears to have 
 prospered, and gradually increased in value to its adventurous owners , 
 who were anxious to keep it entirely to themselves, which they con- 
 tinued to do for many years — till one fine day Captain Cavendish 
 stumbled upon it, and thus unexpectedly published its position and 
 value to the world, round which he had just been circumnavigating, 
 for the purpose of picking up any stray Island which might happen to 
 fall in his way, as this had done, to the unutterable annoyance of the 
 cunning Lusitanians. 
 
 Captain Cavendish was a very methodical matter of fact kind of 
 man, who did every thing en regie, and withal was as bold, enter- 
 prising, and inquisitive, as he was regular and methodical ; possessing 
 these combined qualities, we are not to be surprised that he made 
 full and due preparations for landing, and lor taking possession of it 
 in the Queen's name, if there was nothing to prevent him. When he 
 approached the Island, the breeze was so light that he was urable to 
 get in that day, he stood oft" till the next morning, when he sent a 
 boat to search for a suitable berth for his good ship to lie snugly in, 
 which was found to be opposite a valley adorned with " divers 
 handsome buildings" — the first British anchor that ever dropt on the 
 shores of St. Helena was in twelve fathoms water, opposite where 
 now stands James' Town. 
 
 Cavendish discovered, or rediscovered the Island, on the 8th of June 
 1588, and landed on it the next day, eighty six years after it had 
 been visited by Juan de Nova Castella. 
 
 As the worthy captain is very exact and minute as to the state and 
 appearance of the Island when he first landed, I cannot do better than 
 let the brave old fellow tell his story in his own quaint and peculiar 
 style — which is a very good one — plain, precise, and like himself, very 
 minute and methodical — reading like the descriptive scenes of some 
 old romance, and almost persuading us that it really was an El 
 Dorado, abounding with " green figs" and " pomecitron trees." 
 
 " The same day about two or three o'clock in the afternoon, we 
 went on shore, where we found an exceeding fair and pleasant valley, 
 wherein divers handsome buildings and houses were set up, and one 
 particularly, which was a church, was tiled and whitened on the 
 outside very fair, and made with a porch ; and within the church at 
 the upper end was set an altar, whereon stood a very large table set 
 in a frame, having on it the picture of Our Saviour Christ upon the 
 cross, and the image of our Lady praying, with divers other histories 
 painted curiously on the same. The sides of the Church were hung 
 round with stained cloths, having many devices drawn on them. 
 
 " There are two houses adjoining to the church, on each side one, 
 what served for a kitchen to dress meat in, with necessary rooms, and 
 houses of office. 
 
 " The coverings of the said houses are made flat, where is planted 
 a very fair vine ; and through both the said houses runneth a very 
 good and wholesome stream of fresh water. 
 
 " There is also over against the church, a very fair causeway, 
 made up with stones, reaching unto a valley by the sea side, in which 
 
OF THE ISLAND ST. HELENA. 5 
 
 valley is planted a garden, wherein grows a great store of poropions 
 and melons ; and upon the said causeway is a frame erected, whereon 
 hangs two bells, wherewith they ring to mass ; and near to it a crosa 
 ig set up, which is square framed, and made very artificially of free 
 stone, whereon is carved in cyphers what lime it was built, which 
 was the year of Our Loid 157 I. 
 
 '*The valley is the fairest and largest low plot in all the Island, 
 and is exceedingly sweet and pleasant, and planted in every place 
 cither with truit or with herbs." 
 
 *' Tliero are fig trees which bear fruit continually, and very plenti- 
 fully ; for on every tree you may see blossoms, green figs, and ripe 
 figs all at once, pnd it ix so all the year long. 
 
 '* The reason is, that the Island standeth so near the gun. There 
 is also gieat store of Lemon trees, Orange trees. Pomegranate trees, 
 Pomecitron trees, and Date trees, which bear fruit as the Fig trees 
 do, and are planted carefully and very artificially, with pleasant 
 walks under and between them ; and the said walks are overshadowed 
 with the leaves oi the trees ; and in every void place is planted 
 parsley, sorrel, basil, fernel, anniseed, mustard seed, radishes, and 
 many very good herbs The fresh water brook runneth through 
 divers places of this orchard, and may with very small pains be xnwie 
 to water any tree in the valley. 
 
 *' These fresh water stieams cometh from the lops of the moun- 
 tains, and falleth fiom the cl iV into the valley the heighth cf a cable, 
 and hath many arms issuing out of it, that refresh the whole Island 
 and almost every tree in it. The Island is altogether hiph mountains 
 and steep valleys, except it be on the tops of seme hills, and down 
 below in some of the valleys, where great plenty of all ihefce fruits 
 before spoken of do grow There are much mere growing en the 
 tops of the mountains than below in the valleys ; but it is very 
 toilsome and dan^'erous travelling up to tl.em and down aga.n, by 
 reason of the heijiht and steepness of the hills. 
 
 '* There are also on the Island great store of partridges, which are 
 very tame, not making any gieat haste to fly away though we come 
 very near them. We killed some of them with a foM ling piece. 
 They ditler very much ficm our partridges wh.ch aie in England, 
 both in bigness and also in colour, and live in coveys, twelve, sixteen, 
 and twenty together ; you cannot go ten or twelve score paces but 
 you shall spring one or two coveys at least. 
 
 "There are like\\ise no less plenty of pheasants in the Island, 
 which are also veiy big and fat, sui passing those which are in our 
 country in bigness and numbers in a company ; they differ not very 
 much in colour from the partridges before spoken of. We found 
 moreover in this Island plenty of Guinea Cocks, which we call 
 Turkeys, of ctkur black and white, with red heads ; ti.ey are much 
 the same in bigness with ours in England : their eggs are white and 
 as big as a turkey's egg, 
 
 "There are in this Island thousands of Goats, which the Spaniards 
 call cabritos, which are \ery w.ld ; you sl.all sec cne cr two hundred 
 of them together, and sometimes ytu may see them go in Hocks 
 almost a mile long ; some of them (whether it be the nature of the 
 bleed of them, or the country, 1 know not) are as big as on ass, with 
 
b A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 a mane like a horse, and a beard hanging down to the very ground ; 
 they will climb up the cliffs which are so steep that a man would 
 think it inij)ossible any living creature could go there. We took and 
 killed many of them tor all their swiftness, for there are thousands 
 of them upon the mountains. 
 
 '* There are in like manner great store of swine, which are very 
 ■wild and fat, and of great bigness, they keep altogether upon the 
 mountains and will very seldom abide any man to come near them, 
 except it be by mere chance when they are found asleep, or otherwise, 
 according to their kind are taken lying in the mire. 
 
 " We found in the houses, at our coming, three slaves who were 
 negroes, and one who was born in the Island ui Java, who told us 
 that the East India fleet which were in number five sail, the least 
 whereof was in burden eight or nine hundred tons, all laden with 
 spices and callicut cloth, with store of treasure and very rich stones 
 and pearls, were gone from the said Island of St. Helena but twenty 
 days before we came hither. 
 
 " When the Portuguese touch at the Island, they have all tilings 
 in plenty for their relief, by reason that they suffer none to inhabit 
 there that might eat up all the produce of the Island, except some 
 very tew sick persons of their company, whom they suspect will not 
 live until they come home ; these they leave there to refresh them- 
 selves, and take ihera away the year following with the other fleet, 
 if they live so long.'' 
 
 Was there ever such a precise writer as this Captain Cavendish 
 before — how he peeps and prys into everything, and how accurately 
 he jots it all down in his log, lest it should escape from the tabula 
 rasa of his memory. 
 
 The description is so exact that w'e might sit down and make a 
 sketch of the whole place if we feel inclined so to do, and engrave 
 jt as a view of St. Helena taken in the year 1588. 
 
 From these observations of Cavendish, we learn that up to the 
 time of his arrival in the Island it bad not obtained the dignity of a 
 Colony, inasmuch as its sole inhabitants were three negroes and a 
 native of Java, left there for the purpose of looking after the live 
 stock and attending upon the " very few" sick Portuguese left there 
 for the benefit of their health. 
 
 They appear to have been lavish in the decorations of their little 
 church, and, as is usual with the Portuguese, to have erected a fine 
 stone cross in the year 1571 — sixty-nine years after the discovery of 
 the Island; the only other buildmgs on it being a few flat roofed 
 houses. 
 
 The rapid increase of the animals which had been introduced, 
 forms not the lenst interesting feature in this old mariners sketch of 
 the Island — hundreds of Pigs — thousands of Goats— Pheasants too 
 fat to fly — and Partridges " not making any haste to fly away" when 
 he was after them witii his gun — to say nothing of the " Cabritos" 
 or Goats as " big as an ass," which he was clever enough to capture 
 *' for all their swiftness" and take home in triumph — what a Goshen 
 in the wilderness of waters, wherein to recruit his scurvy stricken 
 sailors. 
 
 Cavendish appears to have gone rambling about the infant town, 
 
OF THE ISLAND ST. HELENA. 7 
 
 peeping into the church, and prying into the houses, m freely as if 
 the place had been his own — the slaves his own property — and the 
 *' very lew si< k" sailors, all from the vessel that took him there, then 
 floating in the bay, as boldly as if in her own waters at homo. 
 
 He examined the orchards, the gardens, the steep hills, the woods, 
 an I even had a peep at the wa'orfall '* as high as a cable," and went 
 out sporting and rumaaing auiut as if he had known the place for 
 years, and had merely called in by way of inspection. And then how 
 civil these three negroes and the .lava man were, not interfering or 
 saying a word to interrupt him, although, as far as they knew, he 
 might have been submitting it to ** his minds eye" to see if it was 
 worth the trouble of taking, for the benefit of his fiery mistress the 
 good Queen Bess. They thought "discretion the better part of 
 valour," and feared to otlcnd the dignity of their unex])ected and 
 redonbtnble visitor, who might have kidnapped the whole of them 
 had he cluK^en, and taken them to England to exhibit as natives of 
 his new found Inland. So they were polite, he was pleased, and 
 left them alone to look after their goats and sheep. 
 
 But we have not yet done with romance, we have to bring another 
 solitary but unwilling hermit in the scene, which is laid in the year 
 1591, when the Royal Mnchnnt, in company with other vessels, left 
 England on their way to India ; they arrived at the Cape of Good 
 Hope in a sickly state, and the whole of the Invalids were put on 
 board the Royal Merchant to be taken back to England ; on her way 
 she called in at St. Helena to refresh. One of the unfortunate sailors 
 was so miserably sick, that it was determined to leave him on the 
 Island as the only chance of saving his jeopardised life. In the mean 
 time, the other vessels had been so sorely knocked and beaten about 
 for nearly two years, that they were glad to return towards home ; 
 but one was doomed never to see Old England more — she perished, 
 and none in her were ever heard ol"; the other arrived at St. Helena, 
 and after running through every vicissitude of the disasters incident 
 to the sea, dropped her anchor in the bay on the third of April 1598. 
 
 When they landed in the valley, their ears were saluted with 
 the pleasant sound of a jdaintive hymn, sung in the little church before 
 spoken of; attracted by this music of the " human voice divine," they 
 entered its little porch, and found one solitary individual pouring out 
 his " pensive soul ' in rapt enthusiasm and penitential devotion to 
 the throne of the great omniscient ; the tremulous echoes pealed 
 along its painted walls, and broke the silence of the lonely valley in 
 which they had just set their feet. Wearied as they were with the 
 incessant watching, the bustle and turmoil of a stormy voyage, the 
 raging of the seas, and the howling of the wind, the music was in 
 unison with their own feelings, and formed no ina|)propriate introduc- 
 tion to the calm peacefulness, and lovely beauty of the spot, they had 
 so long and so anxiously wished to reach ; it touched them like a 
 requiem to the memory of the comrades they had lost, or as a hymn 
 of thankfulness for having escaped from the dangers of a perilous 
 
 >age. 
 
 Their entrance disturbed the devotee — ho was alarmed, and they 
 
 •re surprised ; his figure was strange and uncouth, he was dressed 
 . a rude suit of untauued goat skm ; they knew bim not, but he 
 
8 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 recognized thera — old friends and former companions ; his heart was 
 glad, for in them he saw deliverance from his solitude. His prayers 
 were answered, and the forlorn mariner once more gazed on the friends 
 he loved —felt himself rolling on the broad blue sea, homeward bound ; 
 imagination outran reality, and he fancied himself in a gallant craft 
 with all her canvas set, '• that walked the waters like a thing of life," 
 driving on through storm or calm, to reach the long wished goal of 
 home. 
 
 But 'twas not so written— it was otherwise ordained ; excess of 
 joy, a dire disease, preyed on his mind : he had lived on hope through 
 weary days, and weeks, and months ; long had he watched to sight 
 a friendly sail at break of day, at noon, and night ; but now with love 
 and friends and kindness round him, the ship at anchor, homeward 
 bound, exhausted nature sunk, sleep forsook him, health decayed, 
 and hope itself was quenched in death. 
 
 The early attempts of the Hritish merchants to navigate the Atlantic 
 and Indian seas were very disastrous, and entailed the loss of a great 
 amount of property, of many ships, and a fearful sacrifice of human 
 life — the elements appeared to be against them. 
 
 Of the first expedition, consisting of three ships, only one reached 
 England, and without a cargo, for she was sent back from the Cape 
 with the sick and disabled of the fleet. 
 
 The second expedition, also consisting of three vessels, was even 
 more unfortunate than the first, for out of three fine ships that left the 
 shores of England on their adventurous voyage, not one returned to 
 tell the tale of their proceedings ; these ships were equipped by 
 private merchants out of their own resources, in the year 1596, for 
 so anxious were they to open up a communication with the East by 
 this route, that nothing deterred them, and notwithstanding all these 
 heavy losses, we shall soon see them again embarked in the same 
 enterprize, under better auspices, and with redoubled energy. 
 
 The natural and commercial wealth of the East Indies, its boundless 
 resources in fine cloths and silks, in drugs and spices, was the tempt- 
 ing bait which allured all the longing eyes of the adventurous mer- 
 chants of the maritime countries of Europe. The Portuguese opened 
 the road and showed the way. England, Holland, France, and 
 Spain, soon followed the same track, and ere long their little fleets 
 laid side by side in the Indian seas. In England great exertions were 
 made to recover past losses, and establish a permanent trade ; the 
 able ministers of the '• Virgin Queen" were not backward in their 
 support; under such circumstances, it did not require a long time to 
 establish a Company for the sole purpose of trafficing with India. 
 A sum of seventy -two thousand pounds was raised by the merchants 
 and their fellow adventurers — thus was the East India Company 
 established, and its Act of Incorporation ratified in the year 160(f. 
 From such small beginnings rose that remarkable company of 
 Merchant Princes, who now sway the destinies of the Eastern world, 
 and rule an Empire made up of many states and peoples, richer, and 
 greater in extent than that of Imperious Caesar, or Alexander the 
 Great. Its growth has been remarkable — first as merchants supplicat- 
 ing permission to trade, then to erect factories— turning their factories 
 into forts— their forts into territories— their territories into kingdoms, 
 
or THE ISLAND 6T. HELENA. 9 
 
 growing and expanding on all sides, employing the natives for loldierf, 
 and with them marching from victory to victory — till all that is worth 
 having falls to their possession— impelled onwanl, as it were hy the 
 irresistablo tide of circumstances— their march is forward— they know 
 not where to stop — they cannot remain stationary— to retrogade is to 
 he lost — and who can see the end— may it not be "like vaulting 
 ambition that overleaps itself, and fall* on 'tother side." 
 
 The first fleet sent from England by the East India Company, in 
 terms of their Charter of Incorporation, consisted of four ships, the 
 Dragon, Hector, Ascension, aud Susan, under the charge of Captain 
 Lancaster, one of the commanders in their last ineffectual expeditiou 
 before they were incorporated. Lancaster proved himself to be a 
 man of energy — skilful m conducting negociations — prompt in carry- 
 ing out the instructions of his employers — and shrewd enough to turn 
 every opportiuuty to advantage. 
 
 He reopened the trade, and established it on a firm basis, open and 
 manly as becomes a negotiator of this kind ; he secured the good will 
 of the native potentates with whom he came in connection; they could 
 repose confidence in him, and he did not abuse it ; he was esteemed as 
 a man, and through him his employers were respected as men of 
 honor, integrity and enterprise ; he was prudent — they were prompt — 
 and the result— success ; i>eace and good will united the merchants of 
 the East and Western worlds. 
 
 Two of Ills vessels, the Ascension and Susan, were speedily laden 
 with spices and other much coveted valuables of the east, and des- 
 patched to England, where they arrived. 
 
 Lancaster himself soon followed in his ship the Dragon, in com- 
 pany with the Hector. They were not however so fortunate as the 
 other two, they were overtaken by a furious storm when off the Cape 
 of Good Hope, and got a severe shaking, the Dragon lost her rudder; 
 they made lor Saint Helena, which they reached on the 16th June, 
 after having gone through many hardships and privations. Here he 
 repaired the vessels, and refreshed his men ; a man of his character 
 could not fail to perceive that Saint Helena would be a valuable 
 acquisition to his masters, as a place of call for their ships. 
 
 He reached England on the 11th September 160S— thus auspiciously 
 begmning the commercial prosperity aud grandeur of the East India 
 Company, now a race of Sovereig« Merchants. 
 
 Up to the time at which we have now arrived, the Island does not 
 appear to have been occupied as a colony by the Portuguese, they only 
 keeping a few people on it to look after suppUel for their ships when 
 they arrived, and for attending upon their sick when left behind. 
 
 The English, Dutch, and Spaniards, seem to have done pretty 
 much what they liked with it, although admitting the sovereignty of 
 the Portuguese. As trade with India increased, and ships of different 
 nations arrived more frequently, they began at hist to quarrel about it, 
 and endeavoured apparently to render it as useless to each other as 
 they could. An old author, after alluding lo the discovery of the 
 Island, and speaking of its fertility, exclaims, "yet this Isle is not 
 inhabited, but serves for the English, Portugals, Spaniards, and Hol- 
 landers, to refresh themselves in going, but for the most part iu 
 returning, from the Indies." And then goes on to say, that "some 
 
10 A SKEtCn OF TUE HISTORV 
 
 years ago the Hollanders ruined all that was good, only to spight the 
 Spaniards, who afterwards did the same, that the English, Hollanders, 
 &c. might have no profit of it." 
 
 Tavernier, in his voyages, speaks very favorably of the liberality of 
 the Portuguese, who, he says, " wherever they go, do everything to 
 improve the place, for the benefit of those who may come after them ; 
 but that the Dutchmen are tout le contraire, et tachent de detruire 
 tout,'' so that those who come after them may find nothing : and com- 
 plains that the soldiers and sailors were in the habit of cutting down 
 the fruit trees to get at the fruit ; he, however, exonerates their 
 officers from this charge of utter wantonness. 
 
 The Dutch are accused of damaging the chapel and stone crosg 
 before mentioned, as well as of committing depredations in the plan- 
 tations, and helping themselves to live stock. The English also come 
 in for their share of blame, and are accused, as well as the Dutchmen, 
 of defacing the Church, and breaking down the altar and images ; and 
 it is broadly hinted, that the damage was done by the crew of our 
 methodical old friend Cavendish, but it is hard to believe that he 
 would be guilty of such an act, without any cause or provocation. 
 
 Pyrard, in the account of his voyage, seems to hint that there had 
 been some reason for the Dutchmen taking such ungracious liberties 
 with Portuguese property, lor he states, that on one occasion, they, 
 the Dutch, leit a billet for the information of the Portuguese, with 
 the following strange words upon it — " Portuguese, leave us our 
 inscriptions and letters, and we will leave you your crosses and 
 pictures'' — which indicates, though rather vaguely, that the Portu- 
 guese had been seizing something or other which the Dutchmen had 
 left there, or had been left for them. 
 
 The authority of the Portuguese must have been feeble and limited 
 to allow such proceedings to take place ; and now that the Island was 
 increasing in value to all parties, they were almost deprived of their 
 power over it, all they had done was going to ruin and decay, while 
 bucanecring crews of different nations amused themselves in wantonly 
 destroying what ought to have been husbanded for their mutual use and 
 convenience— but such is human nature. 
 
 As the Island became more frequented for the supplies it afforded, 
 it sometimes happened, that ships of different nations on unfriendly 
 terms with each other met together, quarrels arose, and not unfre- 
 quently they amused each other with a few shots from their great 
 guns. 
 
 In the year 1600, while a Dutch ship was in the Bay, she was 
 suddenly approached by a Caraval, and the Dutchman not liking her 
 appearance, he opened upon her, and gave her a greeting with up- 
 wards of two hundred shots, which does not say much for his gunnery 
 or economy of powder. 
 
 This salute was not very pleasing to the Caraval's crew, who set to 
 work in earnest, got their guns in good trim, and plyed them so effec- 
 tually, that the lubberly Dutchman was glad to put to sea, after having 
 thrown away his shot, and lost two men in the conflict. 
 
 The next mstance is that of an encounter between a Spanish Carrack 
 and a Dutchman, which is very amusing from the oddity of the pro- 
 ceedings of both parties. The Spaniard was lying comfortably at 
 
OF THE ISLAND ST. ULLENA. 1 I 
 
 anchor off Chapel Valley, till, frightened by the appauiiwu .;. liic 
 Dutchman, who, at first sight, was so captivated by the appearance 
 of the Spanish Carrack, that he nnade up his mind to cut her out, 
 
 hich he thought would be an easy matter— but the Spaniard was not 
 
 iiight napping. 
 
 As soon as the Dutchman was seen coming into the Bay, the Car- 
 rack was hauled in to the beach, and her stern made fast to a hawser 
 from the shore. Besides this precaution, the c^aptain landed some 
 guns, and put them on position on the beach, so as to cover his vessel, 
 and thus prepared, he awaited the onset of Bonketou, the Dutchman. 
 
 But a change came o'er the spirit of the Dutchman's dreams, he 
 began to wish himself safe at home on one of his native dykes; the 
 winds were against him, and blew in sudden puffs down the valley, 
 which battled his motions, and modified his thirst for glory. He con- 
 tinued to get within musket distance of the carrack, but not liking 
 the ugly louk of her guns, or the preparations of her crew, he 
 altered his tone, and very politely sent in a civil request begging 
 permission to water. But his politeness was thrown away, and pro- 
 duced no impression on the haughty Spaniard, except that of surprise 
 at this sudden change of tone, and to the unutterable astonishment of 
 the valiant Bonketou, his request was refused. 
 
 Uterque bonus pads btlliqne minister ! both were fine fellows for 
 war or peace, the Dutchman's good nature inclined him for peace, 
 and a friendly watering, but the Spaniard, like our own Pitt, was a 
 most excellent wax minister, and exclaimed in derision '^ Anda 
 Petro — Ando Canali/" which speaks more in favour of his courate 
 than politeness. So the battle be^^nn, the guns roared and rumbled 
 along the valleys from rock to rock, till their thunders died away in 
 the mists among the cabbage trees, thu balls whistled and thumped, 
 and banged, and rattled about the Spaniard's ears like a shower of 
 keen hail bent on his ruin ; the smoke hung on the waters, wreathed 
 itself up the hills, and spread like a canopy over the combatants, to 
 shield them from the sun, that they might " fight in the shade," like 
 the Grecians of old. 
 
 But the Spaniard was cool and determined— large as the Dutchman 
 loomed through the smoke, he had made up his mind to give him 
 metal for smoke. " Dam pendus idonea fumo*' and let lly from his 
 guns on the beach ; bang went a shot, smash into Bonketou's skuppers, 
 and crash through his bulwarks,— bang went another through his 
 bobstays and backstays, out of one sail into another, and made them 
 more holy than Bonketou wished them to be. 
 
 Annoyed at the sight of his rags and rope ends, he let fly at the 
 Spaniard thicker and faster; the haughty Don repaid the compli- 
 ment, so that the battle hung at suspense, till the Dutchman sheered 
 oti* and wurped himself under the shelter of some rocks, where he 
 took up h.s quarters for the night, to refit and ponder over the 
 uncertainty of human afiairs, and scarcity of water in his tubs— bis 
 distance from huine, and the horrors of thirst. 
 
 He called a council of war, and determined on |)eace — put all hisk 
 
 mynheers" on short commons for the rest of the voyage, and pre- 
 pared to weigh anchor, but he was slow in h.s motions — the anchor was 
 heavy, and he and his crew were so long in ctl'ecling this important 
 
12 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 operation, that the Spaniard came to quicken their manoeuvres, by 
 opening upon him a firo of musketry from the rocks, so that instead of 
 cutting out the Don, he had to cut out himself as fast as he could, to 
 get out of their way. 
 
 So fierce and fiery had been this redoutable action, that the poor 
 little carrack was riddled Uke a cullender, and went down " by the 
 deep nine" at her moorings, much to the grief of her gallant 
 defenders, whilst Bonketou himself thanked his stars that he had 
 been lucky enough to get away, without either water or the carrack, 
 the cause of this luckncss encounter. Although the Spaniards gained 
 a victory, they lost their ship, and unlike the Dutchman, they could 
 not get away from the Island. In this predicament, they set to 
 work collecting what they could of the melancholy remains of their 
 carrack, and thus became the first ship-breakers on the Island ; they 
 erected dwellings, and carried on, as we are told by a very grave 
 historian, a great private trade. 
 
 Another Englishman now enters upon the scene of this little 
 historical stage of ours, no less a personage than Sir Thomas 
 Herbert, who, like his predecessor Cavendish, appears to have made 
 good use of his eyes, and to have had a ready pen, and fluent matter 
 to keep it going ; and as most men tell a story best in their own way, 
 I will introduce Sir Thomas at once, who says — " This Isle is hard 
 to be ascended, not that the passage is craggy, but that it is so 
 precipitous. The sailors have an ironic proveib — " The way is suek 
 as a man may choose^ whether he will break his heart going up, or 
 his neck coming dowu^' which proves that at the time of his visit 
 tliere were very few roads leading out of the valley into the country. 
 And then again after a little breathing time, he proceeds *' There are 
 but two noted rivulets, one which bubbles down towards the; Chapel, 
 the other into the Lemon Valley, so called from a Lemon tree and 
 Chapel built at the bottom of the Isle by the Spaniard, anno 1571 — 
 and by the Dutch of late pulled down ; a place once intended for 
 God's worship, but now disposed of to common uses. There are 
 also some ruins of a little town lately demolished by the Spaniard, 
 in that it became a magazine of private trade, in turning and returning 
 out of both the Indies No other monuments or antiquities are there 
 found, you see all if you look upon the ribs of a weather beaten 
 carrique, and some broken pieces of great Ordnance, which albeit 
 left there against the owners liking, serve some instead of anchors." 
 
 From this, it would appear that the fine fellows who defended the 
 " Carrique" against Mynheer Bonketou, had gone on and prospered 
 till they had excited the ire of the Spaniards, who turned them out 
 of the Island as ungraciously as they had done the Dutchman. 
 
 Here our worthy old friend talks more about the Spaniard than he 
 does of the " Portugals," but after indulging him in a ramble in the 
 deserted gardens of the place, and a few words about the "spinnage 
 and fennel" it contains, he informs us, these good things were 
 ** sown by Fernandes Lupises, a Portugal, in the year of Our Lord 
 1509, for the good of his country men ; who, nevertheless, at this 
 day, dare hardly land to oversee their seminary, or own their labours, 
 the English and Dutch in the churlish language of a canon, 
 aomet.mes disputing their propriety." And a httle lurther on, he 
 
OF THE ISLAND ST. HELENA. 13 
 
 L„ „. 
 
 I^BCaptain Andrew Evans," a very worthy V/elshman, whom fame 
 reports to have been killed in attempting to ride np one of the hills 
 on the back of one of the famous (foats, here known to have been a» 
 b\g as an ass ! 
 
 It is deeply to be deplored, that all our most elaborate researches 
 throw no light on the ultimate fate of the heros of the carrack, 
 whose weather beaten hbs so forcibly arrested the attention of Sir 
 Thomas, while musing on the anfiqinties and sf innage of the Island. 
 As the veracity of a guide book, like the chastity of a woman, ought 
 to be unquestioned, it is with feelings of the liveliest satisfaction, 
 unmitigated pleasure, and unadulterated exultation, I drew your 
 notice to the satisfactory manner in winch he authenticates the 
 fact of the famous battle in the bay. for he saw the *' weather 
 beaten" ribs of the carrack sticking in the mud, like pigeon's legs in 
 a pio-crusl ; and could we but ascertain the cause of their expulsion, 
 there can be no doubt but that it would throw great light on the 
 jurisprudence and international laws of that bucaneering period ; 
 from which we might derive a vast fund of legal erudition — as 
 practical as it is profound - and as simple as it is just and efficacious. 
 
 Success generally renders men ambitious ; and as it is with indivi- 
 duals, so with nations, for they are made up of men ; the passions, 
 feelings, and failings of the former, are isolated in one solitary atom 
 of humanity, but in the latter it is» an aggregation of these separate 
 atoms rolled into one effenescing mass, ready to pour out a torrent of 
 passions, whenever the cork of reason which bunged them up may be 
 drawn out of its place by the spirit of ambition and glory. Then it 
 is we see a nation bursting her bonds, and scattering her sons over the 
 world to settle wherever they may, and do what they can to •* better 
 themselves" in lands remote from home. It was thus with Portugal, 
 her sons had been cooped up by the sea on one side, and the 
 Spaniards on the other, so closely, that when they burst their bonds, 
 thev spread over the world in a stream. 
 
 They had groArn ambitious, and longed for the possession of the 
 Eastern world ; their agents and viceroys exerted themselveu, they 
 founded colonies, seized on states ready founded, turned kingdoms 
 into provinces, and provinces into what suited them best, too often 
 into scenes of ruin, misery, and bloodshed ; ambition fed on itself ; 
 and St. Helena grew out of favour. They became possessed of 
 colonies and ports ; rejoicing in the sonorus names of Sofola, Mom- 
 baza, Melinda, Magadoza, and Mozambique ; they love a long name, 
 and delight in the grand. St. Helena was small, its value decreased 
 in their eyes, it was deserted and left to its fate, — a tenantless rock in 
 the desert of waters. But a fatality seemed for a time to link it with 
 the destinies of Portugal. A tew years afterwards two of their 
 carracks were wrecked upon its shores. 
 
 The crew managed to escape with most of the live stock and cargo, 
 which they landed on the Island, and thus once again, unintentionally, 
 and much against their will, replenished it with *' Cattle, Hogs, and 
 Goats." 
 
 What became of these involuntary residents m not stated, but 
 soon afterwards the Dutch once more made their appearance, and 
 
14 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 seeing the coast clear, took possession, established a colony, and 
 made themselves as comfortable as they could. They dispersed all 
 over the Island, examined every nook and corner of its most remote 
 recesses, went up the hills and down the vallies, explored the ravines, 
 and gave it a thorough good ransacking, with an eye to business, to 
 see what it was worth, and form a sound notion of its capabilities. 
 
 They found, after a minute search, '* that in the clifts between the 
 rocks, there are veins of very valuable kinds of boles or earth, some 
 of the nature of Terra Lemnia, and not at all inferior to it : some in 
 the rocks to the south-west of the Isle, of a rich bright red, which 
 may possibly be what Neinhoff mentions; and towards the East, veins 
 of very fine azure," so that on the whole, they appear to have been 
 tolerably well satisfied with the result of their peregrinations for a 
 time. 
 
 It is a singular feature in the history of St. Helena, thatievery 
 nation seeing or possessing it, have always found it to contain some- 
 thing or another very valuable, according to <^hcir particular notions 
 what is, and Vv'hat is not of value ; but none of them appear ever to 
 have realised their wishes: here were "rich bright red boles" and 
 " very fine azure earths," of the nature of " Terra Lemnia," but 
 nothing came of them, because, as the Epicureans have it, nothing 
 can come of nothing. 
 
 Although they had one or two fi^jhts in the Island, and had now 
 got possession of this longed gnawed bone of contention, and had it 
 all their own way, still, in spite of their flourishing rcporti,, it 
 did not answer their purposes ; like the Portuguese, they grew 
 ambitious, and their covetous eyes lell on the Cape of Good Hope, 
 then held by the English. 
 
 No sooner had the Dutch been seized with this inveterate longing 
 for the Cape, than they took measures for getting possession of it. 
 What diplomatic arts they had resort to, I cannot undertake to say ; 
 they were, however, very adroitly managed on their part, for they 
 did at last get possession, very much to their satisfaction at first. 
 
 A very grave and erudite historian relates, in language becoming 
 the occasion, that the Dutch sent emissaries to bribe the chief 
 of the settlement, not to surrender the colony to them, but to 
 perpetrate a fraud upon the authorities at home, who are still very 
 often played the same trick, to the effect that the lank and haggard 
 natives of the colony " were cannibals, and most cruel terrible crea- 
 tures, so that it was impossible to hold out against them." They 
 were all in an uproar, the cannibals were howling on the hills, the 
 fires were all ablaze, and covers laid on Table Mountain for a feast on 
 fat Englishmen. They could not stir out without being gobbled up ; 
 they took the alarm, and were thoroughly frightened by the howling 
 of these terrible cannibals. John Bull stood aghast and sighed for 
 home — petitioned the Queen to get them withdrawn, and save them 
 from these " most cruel terrible creatures." Their prayers were 
 heard, the bribed chief of the colony joyfully received orders to quit, 
 and bade for a while farewell to the Cape and its cannibals. The 
 Dutch were delighted, and as soon as they could, they packed up all 
 they possessed at St. Helena, took away all they could carry with 
 them, and removed their settlers among the cannibals of the Cape, 
 
OP THE ISLAND ST. HELENA. 15 
 
 I ....,..„„„ 
 
 ^Ipiccd in the mysteries of history, might ask, why it was the Dutch 
 were safe from these cannibals and the English not ; but he must bear 
 in mind, that it is required of a guide book to relate facts, and not to 
 inquire into the reason of things. Besides, an author would be paying 
 his reader a vory poor compliment, as is now freely admitted, by every 
 critic, if he did not, in some portion of his work, allow him to indulge 
 in the pleasures of his own imagination : none but bad writers deluge 
 their readers with details. 
 
 Soon after the Dutch had forsaken the Island, and taken up their 
 quarters at the Cape, a fleet of English East India vessels touched at 
 the lonely rock. The officers went to pay their respects to the flag 
 they expected to have found flying there, but on nearing the beach 
 not a flag could they see. They pulled on, however, and soon effected 
 a landimr, and on entering the valley they found it deserted ; not a 
 soul was moving in the place ; the habitations were little better than 
 ruins, and the fine gardens heretofore f ovcrcd with orange and lemon 
 trees, were choked up with weeds and run \*ild, showing nothing but 
 the miserable remnants of their former j)roductivene88. A few goats, 
 and animals of other descriptions, were browsing on the rocky slopes 
 of the hills, nibbling the stinted grass, under the shadow of the few 
 trees, scattered here and there about in little clumps and rambling 
 patches. 
 
 They examined the valley, and everything around them gave indi- 
 cations of its having been abandoned. They toiled up the steep 
 hills, and found the country equally silent and solitary, except now 
 and then when broken by the sudden whirr of a small covey oi part- 
 ridges, or the fiuttcring rush of a pheasant. 
 
 As there was nobody to prevent them, they took formal possession 
 in the name of Old England, then under the iron rule of Oliver 
 Cromwell. 
 
 As possession is nine points of law, it is presumed these adventu- 
 rous merchant sailors left some of their party on the Island, although 
 our historians do not allude to any such circumstance, inasmuch as 
 they make a bold leap from 1651 to 1658, the year of the first Govcr- 
 i or's arrival on the Island, fortified with anything like a regularly 
 ielegated power and authority to act on behalf of his employers. As 
 my own researches will not enable me to fill up the seven years hiatus 
 in the narrative, I will leave them as they stand, blank and uncertain, 
 thus leaving open another point for my readers to investigate at their 
 leisure. 
 
 The East India Company were perfectly satisfied with the proceed- 
 ings of their officers, and in due time sent out a Governor in the 
 person of one of these officers, named Captain Dutton, who immedi- 
 ately took steps to make both himself and the Island secure, which, 
 after much labor, ho accomplished by the erection of a Fort, the most 
 formidable that had ever frowned over the blue waters of the Bay. I 
 will not torture my readers by attempting to describe this fort, akhoueh 
 tlie worthy Dutton apjHjars to have oeen very proud of his works, for 
 in the last line of an inscription inserted in the walls, he caused to be 
 ngraved these words — ** opera testantur de me" thereby implying 
 ;iiat this wonderful work would for ever testify to his perseverance, 
 
16 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 and the military skill displayed in its construction. This fortification 
 ■ IS supposed to have stood where now stands the quaint old fashioned 
 Ditch like building, called the Castle, immediately in front of the 
 beach, and pretty well in the centre of the curve of the bay at James' 
 Town. 
 
 The fortifications seem to have been completed about the year 
 lf>58, if we are to put faith in Ibis inscription, and was called Fort 
 James, most likely in compliment to James Duke of York, brother 
 to the "Men*} Monarch," and himself, subsequently, a very sorry 
 monarch, an., miserable refugee. 
 
 Undei' the fosteriiig care of the East India Company it became a 
 thriving little colony, and formed no mean appanage to their then 
 very scanty posses:^ions. They introduced into it, as the Portuguese 
 had done before them, all kinds of cattle and vegetables, as well as 
 supplies of provisions from England. Settlers were invited ; tempt- 
 ing inducements were held out to emigrants, and some few were 
 induced to take up their abode among its romantic vallies, and make 
 themselves happy in its silent recesses ; lands were allotted to them, 
 brought into cultivation, and the work of prosperity went on apace 
 by slow but sure degrees- Labour became scarce, and slaves were 
 introduced to answer the demand — a blot on the Company's scutcheon 
 — a poison inoculated into the system of the Island which no subse- 
 quent efforts have been able to eradicate. Slavery is now abolished, 
 but the effects of so much moral infamy and degradation still rears 
 its hideous front, and will do so for generations yet to come. One 
 or two writers have stated that the Island was retaken by the Dutch 
 about the year 1655, but they appear to have drawn their facts from 
 the regions of fancy, as they have not supported them with any verbal 
 or documentary evidence, nor even availed themselves of traditionary 
 lore, to give them a feeble and dubious support ; we are therefore 
 permitted to hitch a doubt into the loophole they have left us. 
 Nothing of interest seems to have occurred at St. Helena for many 
 years, everything went on in a quiet jopr-trot way ; the colonists, very 
 few in number, amused themselves by gardening and cultivating 
 <;ulinary vegetables to strengthen their diet, and season their brotii ; 
 their sheep browsed on the hills, and the goats on the rocks, the 
 cattle grazed at ease in the grassy valleys, and chewed the cud by 
 the side of the little brooks, unconscious of butchers, cooks, housewives 
 and boiling pots. 
 
 Nothing worth noticing occurred to give an interest to its annals 
 for several years. After the period the redoubtable Dutton erected 
 his impregnable fort, its chroniclers held a sinecure. 
 
 They were not silent from lack of industry, or from any disinclina- 
 tion to the labours of historical investigation, or the use of their goose 
 ■quills, but because they had nothing to write about. 
 
 What few incidents indeed might have occurred, were not sufR- 
 ciently exciting to induce the scribes of the cluster of colonists to drop 
 the hoe and take up the pen. They were occupied in experimenting 
 on the growth of cabbages and Madagascar yams : they had to pro- 
 vide for the morrow's dinner, which was more interesting than record 
 writing. They tilled the ground, and let the mind lie fallow for a 
 «eason ; the occipital soil was neither deep nor rich, and they feared 
 
OF TDB ISLAND ST. HELENA. 17 
 
 > exhaust it. They had no exciting cause— not even a parish 
 
 ' ratigle ; to write ahout nothing, they were wise enough to know, 
 
 '•• as worse than nothing, and therefore they stuck to their watering 
 
 puts, — cahbages Uounsliod, prosperity increased, and they cared 
 
 i.othin^ about leaving a Post obit for the information of posterity. 
 
 Of the procodings on th<» Island therefore, nothin/ cati be stated, till 
 
 very grave and decorous Frenchman paid it a kind of complimentary 
 
 ^it in the nuraorablc year K)C6, that of the great fire of London. 
 
 vVhilc the inhabitants of that great city were wailing among their 
 
 mined homes, terror stricken, but not indeed heart broken at that 
 
 ilamitous event, the worthy Islanders, in the height of their pride, 
 
 re displaying its beauties to the admiring gaze of the polite and 
 
 •servant writer of Monsieur de Renncfort's voyages. 
 
 How he revels in the wonders t f description, and what wonderful 
 
 things he ha<l to describe; was ever a place or a people so sketched 
 
 off before? It is u bold rough etching, finely drawn and well bitten 
 
 ill, full of light and shade, dashed oif at a sitting! 
 
 Nothing escapes him, he has a peep into every thing, and tells every 
 
 incident and adventure that happeued while he was at the Island ; 
 
 he is a French Boswell, recording the sayings and doings of the little 
 
 Idol whom lie satellites about. What a charming group to follow 
 
 'n the little gardens, a.d up the rocky street, with its houses 
 
 ittered about at random, as if to make the place look bigger. lie 
 
 IS a nod and a smile for every boily. Look at him there with hig 
 
 .■eple hat, and long love locks dangling in fleecy curls over his head 
 
 tl shoulders, which ever and anon he combs as was the fashion of 
 
 c day. He is not a little proud of the big rosettes in his square 
 
 »d shoes and gay red clocked stockings, fitting close to his well 
 
 tiuned leg, a model lor the sculptor, and the pride of his heart. 
 
 That fine white lawn cravat too, with its rich lace trimmings, how 
 
 icefully it Hows without a crumple down the front ui his long flap 
 
 kin — real point lace, the envy of the ladies and the delight of its 
 
 owner. And how jauntily he carries that little Spanish cloak, 
 
 with its bright blue lining, and bell buttons silver gilt, once the 
 
 ' -'itrht of his worthy sire. 
 
 rhere he goes jogging along with Rennefort, leaning on his arm, 
 
 ompanied by several of their follow passengers, taking a gentle 
 
 tnenadc to stretch their legs after a voyage from Madagascar. 
 
 I^ook how all the good Islanders stare at the strangers, little boys 
 
 drop their taws, and old men lean on their sticks to examine them ; 
 
 the women are at the doors, and the labourers rest on their mattocks, 
 
 lost in a wonder at the grave and stately Rennefort, and the spruce 
 
 *harp eyed friend on whose arm he leans. 
 
 The fort and its inhabitants are all in a bustle of preparation, for 
 
 itors were scarce in those days, especially polite note making 
 
 ■uchmen, besides they might play Governor Stringer a trick, and 
 
 lie him down in their chronicle as a surly old churl, and tell the 
 
 ..uild that he is as uncultivated as a clodhopper; therefore he is all 
 
 agog, setting his fort m order to receive and entertain his critical 
 
 vi-^ilors, that they *' may nothing extenuate, or set down aught in 
 
 ilice I in their account of the visit. 
 
 But I am anticipating— and bless me ! there's Rennefort looking 
 
18 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 unutterable things, because I have taken to scribble about hira — 
 and all the while he prefers the scribbling of his old friend. But I 
 must have a finger in the j)ie, I will be Dragoman, and interpret 
 him after the manner of ail Dragomen, by popping in a running 
 commentary of my own by way of illustration. 
 
 Should any sly reader doubt my veracity, hint about credentials, 
 and suspect I am making a breach in the saa-ctity which ought to be 
 attached to the character of a Dragoman ; conscious of the infantine 
 innocence of my own intentions, and zealous for the honor of the 
 sensitive Froncliman, 1 will humbly refer such a reader to the notes 
 of the original writer, make nine penitential genuflexions, and rub 
 my very nose in the dust at his feet to prove my integrity, remove his 
 suspicions, and wriggle myself mto the very bowels of his confidence 
 and compassion for *' Je crois — ^jugez de ma simplicite, que Ton devait 
 rougir de la duplicite." 
 
 So now having got our entertaining friend seated in a comfortable 
 cane bottomed chair, cross-kneed and very much at his ease, he 
 commences his story, after having indulged in the luxury of two or 
 three hearty pinches of snuff from a tortoise shell box, presented to 
 liim by sume ardent admirer, as fully specified in a silver plate 
 emblazoned in the lid thereof. 
 
 Well gentlemen (says he) and so it happened that when we had 
 arrived at about half a league from the shore, in a little bit of a Bay 
 •which opened out to us, we discovered a Fort, flying the English flag. 
 So we up with our ports, and let fly a salute of three guns — bang, 
 bang, bang! which was answered with a solitary pop from a rusty 
 gun on the ramparts, placed there to keep all buccaneering captains 
 and mercantile marauders at a respectful distance, and give the fort 
 itself an air of respectability. In a little time a skiif came off to 
 within pistol distance, and a person on board asked us *' where is the 
 ship from," we replied *' from France," which did not appear to be 
 at all satisfactory to him, as he was a very precise and particular 
 gentleman. So he asked us from " what part of France," we told 
 him " from St. Malo," whereupon he nodded his head and enquired 
 further, "where do you come from," as if he was doubtful of the 
 correctness of our first reply. We told him " from Madagascar," 
 upon which he asked for the name of the captain — *' La Chesnaie, at 
 your service ;" which seemed to clear up his countenance as if a cloud 
 of doubt and suspicion had been suddenly dissipated from his mind ; 
 it made him none the politer nevertheless, for he told us *' to come 
 down and show our commissions to the Governor," and immediately 
 pulled off for the shore, as if in a great hurry to communicate the 
 intelligence he had learnt. But we interrupted his hurry by asking 
 him to show us a good anchorage, he said we had a good berth, and 
 so we made no more ado but dropt anchor in twenty-four fathoms 
 water, and made ourselves as snug as we could. 
 
 La Poupardie, the lieutenant, immediately began smartening himself 
 up, and made himself as prim as a new pin, to go on shore in place 
 of the captain, who was miserably sick. 
 
 But while he was in the midst of his preparations, a boat came 
 alongside with an English officer in it, who was recognised as an old 
 
[RKq 
 
 OF THE ISLAND ST. llb.LLSA. 19 
 
 uaintanro ; he came on board, and wo treated liim to some refresh- 
 inents, to which he had no objection. After a little chat he got into 
 his skiff, and La Poupardic went With him to the Fort, whore he 
 
 u)wed all the captain's papers, and at the same time asked pertnis- 
 
 '>n to water, which was very civilly acceded to. 
 
 The next day, Rennefort nnd myself having 8martcne<i ourselves 
 ij), went on shore to pay our respects to the (Governor, accompanicti 
 by five or si:; of the r^nncipal passengers. We were introduced to 
 his wife, and had the pleasure of saluting his two pretty daughters. 
 We were invited to dinner, and while it was getting ready, wo 
 regaled ourselves with a variety of liquors for a time, and then, at 
 the Governor's request, we went to see a little waterfall which 
 tumbled about among the rocks near the castle. 
 
 lie was very anxious that we should also see a new piece of 
 hydraulic mechanism he had recently had made, and took great pains 
 to explain it to us. He turned on a little runnel from the main stream 
 into a lot of pipes, which carried it to a convenient place for filling 
 the casks of the shipping. He seemed to consider it a great improve- 
 ment, and entertained us very much, but himself a great deal more, 
 by explaining all its various uses in detail. After having seen this 
 ingenious piece of engineering, we returned to the Fort with a good 
 appetite, where we found dinner already served up with a great deal 
 of propriety and elegance, partly in the French, and partly in the 
 English fashion. 
 
 \Ve were gratified by having the ladies to dine with us — a very 
 pleasant thing after a long voyage— and were much surprised to find 
 no less freedom and sociability here than at table in France. " Ma 
 foi I" but Rennefort was not a little astonished, when they made us 
 drink healths all round out of the same glass, but as the liquor was 
 good, we saw no reason for objection, and so we made ourselves 
 merry. 
 
 The worthy Governor was very anxious to see the captain La Chcs- 
 naie, and had him brought to the Fort in a bed, where he was very 
 politely accommodated with the very best chamber in the place. 1 1 
 was built of wood in the English fashion, and covered with tiles, 
 which had been brought out as ballast in some ship, and were now 
 converted to their proper use to keep out the rain and heat. 
 
 We went up a few steps into an armory pretty well furnished with 
 weapons of various kinds, most of thera fit for use. The four corners 
 of tlie room opened into several other chambers, the walls of which 
 were decorated with all kinds of silks and stuffs from India, and saw 
 there some Persian car|)et3. Some of the furniture made of black 
 and grey ebony was of very pretty pattern, and fastened with gilt 
 headed nails, which had a very nice eflect. Amongst the pictures 
 we noticed that of Charles the second king of England, placed in the 
 most prominent part of the Governor's room, from whence a picture 
 of Oliver Cromwell had been removed, and placed in a bed room, the 
 face being turned towards the wall — tlu' Governor seeming to forget 
 that if he turned Cromwell's face to the wall, Cromwell turned his 
 back to the Governor, and so at least, the compliment was raalual — 
 there was a quid pro quo -and Oliver had his Rowland. So that it 
 would seem, politics ran as high on this Uttlc out of the way place, 
 
20 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 as they did in Paris or any other great city exposed to the vicissitudes 
 of party, and the fiery contention of obstreporous zealots. 
 
 The Governor was named Stringer, and somewhere about fifty-five 
 years oW, a very decorous gentleman, grave as became the dignity 
 of his station, and withal very active, looking diligently after the 
 affairs of the Island, and his own in particular. The inhabitants of 
 the place were nut very numerous, not more than fifty men and 
 twenty women, who lived principally on " Biscuit, Oil, and Salt 
 Beef," at the expense of the English East India Company, which is 
 the reason why they attach so much importance to the budding of 
 potatoes and the sprouting of cauliflowers. The greater number of 
 the inhabitants had houses of their own in the Island, where they 
 onsconscd themselves as snugly as they could, and every one came 
 in his turn to mount guard at the P'ort. and no doubt would have made 
 very excellent soldiers had circumstances called them into action 
 against an invading force. 
 
 Rennefort was very much pleased with the fine appearance of the 
 fruit and vegetables, which had been produced by much labour and 
 attention, and I could not myself help thinking, that it was really a 
 very great pity to take away a quiet peaceably disposed man from his 
 garden, and convert him into a grim warrior on the ramparts of the 
 Fort, where he had nothing to do but watch the Bay, and meditate 
 on the troubles of amateur soldiering. 
 
 The gardens were very well stocked, and nothing there appeared 
 unprofitable except ourselves and a prodigious quantity of rats — most 
 voracious and destructive vermin— who levied black mail on the fruit, 
 and almost made wreck of the planters hopes. The Governor pro- 
 posed to declare a most sanguinary war against them, and as the 
 interest of the colonists was identified with that of the troops, no 
 doubt it would be a successful one, for the soldiers would have the 
 singular felicity of fighting for the glory of their arras, and the salva- 
 tion of their turnips and cabbages. 
 
 We noticed horses on the Island, but they had become so wild and 
 untameable, that when any of the inhabitants wished for a ride, and 
 went after their horses, they immediately took to their heels and fled 
 to the extremity of the Island, and rather than be taken, threw 
 themselves headlong over the precipices, where they were dashed to 
 pieces ; from which circumstance we naturally conjectured there were 
 no mounted cavalry on the Island, and fully assured ourselves its 
 defence was entirely entrusted to the infantry, specimens of whom we 
 had encountered at the fort, as before observed. The governor himself 
 maintained in his ground, no less than eighty cows, which he left to 
 the care of four women, who milked them and made as much of the 
 milk into butter as might be required for the family. The governor 
 showed us the curiosities which he collected in his cabinet, among 
 which, Rennefort admired the bones of a '' Lamantine," and of a 
 Marine Cow, called also " Manatee," whose dried skin was bullet 
 proof and a great curiosity in its way. 
 
 We had the gratification also to see a flying fish, the largest we 
 had ever seen before, although it was not much bigger than a common 
 mackarel. Besides these %vonderful things there were some amber- 
 gris, and all kinds of curiosities from India. We saw five pounds of 
 
OF THE ISLANi r.ENA. 2l 
 
 ipvet, carefully corked up in a glass bottle, pfetiraatfd to be of the 
 iralue of five or six thousand francs, according to the Governor. All 
 these fine things induced our people to »f>€nd their money, and th*» 
 officers of the ship purchased during their stay in the place, boxes of 
 rivet, oral rings, a-ate knifd? handles, ihina satin, and other India 
 wares, which the Jlnj,'Ush had a great ph'.iiy of on the Island, and 
 sold at a \try dear rale ; lor two Musk Cals, and two Civets, cost 
 them sixteen piastres, which seems a great deal of money for cats, 
 bat then they were very curious, and Rennefort was very much 
 pleased wiih them, while La Poupardie made himself happy by the 
 purchase of a coral jing, which was of very goodly sire and colour, 
 just hke the one he had seen some time before in the Queen of 
 Madagascar's nose. 
 
 Hy the time wfv had 5cen and examined all these wonderful 
 curios'ties, and made ourselves familiar with the place, and got 
 acquainted Wiih the people, we had the sati'-faction to find our Captain 
 in a better state of health, and making preparations for returning on 
 board. La Poupardie was very busy making all manner of prepara- 
 tions, not only for conveying the sick Captain aboard, but for 
 enlertniiiitig the Governor and his family, who had been invited to a 
 little feast, by way of returning his kindness to ourselvec. 
 
 The Governor brought his wife with him, a ' ery comely woman, 
 of matronly manuers, his two pretty daughters, and a son-in-law, 
 who made themselves very merry and agreeable. We all joined 
 together in a sociai glass, and drank the hor.lths of th'j kings of 
 England and France, with all due respect and decorum, suitable to 
 the gravity of the occasion. Rennefort was very much entertained 
 with chatting to the two pretty girls, to the cha;:rin of La Pupardic, 
 who had been deeply smitten with one of thcra, while admiring the 
 romantic beauties of the little waterfall. He had a susceptible heart, 
 and was easily set in flame ; Rennefort soon saw how the current was 
 setting, and very adroitly managed to monopolise both the young 
 ladies, while La Poupardie, to his unutterable disgust, had to play 
 beau to their worthy mamma, and content himself as best as he could 
 with now and then a sly glance at the adorable object of his strong 
 but transient passion. All things must have an end, even love and 
 sight seeing, and so the time at last arrived for us to weigh anchor ; 
 the vnlley rang with the echoes of our men singmg at thi; capstan, 
 a merry stave, pleasing to our ears, all except La Poupardie, who was 
 muttering to himself in a state of busy abstraction, odds and ends, and 
 snatches of all sort:* of old songs, sometimes it was 
 
 L'Amour, L'Amour ! cruelle! ah ! le connais tu bien, 
 Pour toi, c'est un plaisir, pour moi c'est un bien ! 
 
 and then again he might be heard above the click cli<i of the 
 Capstan, with his 
 
 L'Amour egt un bien charmant. 
 
 But he was interrupted by the arrival of a p.cket of letters from 
 the Governor, addressed to the East India Company at Paris ; they 
 were taken on board ; wo honored the hospitality of the English with 
 a salute of three guns, which they answered from the fort, gun for 
 gmi ; \hc - -' - ,;n, our sails set, a fair breeze was wafting ut 
 
2^ A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 onward to France ; St. Helena was fading in the mists, and La 
 Foiipardie singing 
 
 C'est ramour, Taraour, I'amour, 
 
 Que fait le monde a la ronde, 
 
 Et chaque jour a son tour, 
 
 Le monde fait ramour! 
 But alas, for the uncertainty of human friendships, especially 
 pulitical ones. While the French and English were thus hobnobbing 
 together in the middle of the atlantic, they were fighting nearer home, 
 for the peace hud been broken between the two nations ; although 
 that terrible event, which had already cost much blood in Europe, 
 was not yet known in such a remote place as St. Helena. 
 
 However, hon voyaye to the inquisitive Frenchmen, they have 
 thrown a light on the dark pages of our little history, and we must 
 thank them. It is hard to quarrel with old friends because nations 
 choose to go to war. Rei.aefort and his factotum would again be 
 welcome, and Ln Poupardie received with open arms by all the 
 damsels in the Island. 
 
 Having so far very faithfully fulfilled my engagement as chief 
 Dragoman to Monsieur Dc Rennefoxt, it becomes necessary to 
 advance further into the heart of the history, delayed as it has been 
 by his amusing gossip. During a lapse of several years, nothing of 
 very partir^ular consequence occurred on the Island, and as there is 
 some doubt about who really were the Governors, it is reasonable to 
 suppose that these Governors themselves were not of much import- 
 ance, or their deeds would have been chronicled, either by themselves 
 or by some grave quidnunc on the Island. The records are worse 
 than silent, because they are confused and doubtful, and the only 
 testimony in favour of the existence of some of these Governors, is 
 that of " Old Will," a gentleman of colour, who had the good fortune 
 to serve the East India Company, under the command of no less than 
 twenty-one of them, and lived to be one hundred years old ; he 
 enjoys ti^e credit of having brought with him to the Island when he 
 came to it, " three yams, nine head of cattle, and two turtle doves, 
 from Madagascar," thereby proving he had a taste for Agriculture 
 at;d Ornithology, besides an inckling for Botany, as testified unto by 
 the three yams he introduced. 
 
 The next event of importance which now falls to my lot to relate, 
 is neither more or less than that of an invasion, not of rats, or white 
 ants, but of real double Dutchmen. In the year 1672, of dolorous 
 memory, while captain Beale was governor, four Dutch ships arrived 
 from India, opposite Lemon Valley, where they took up their station, 
 while the officers determined what should be done. They came to 
 the conclusion that the Island was certainly worth the trouble of 
 taking, and what was more, that it might be easily done. Their 
 first conclusion was perfectly correct, but the second turned out to be 
 not quite so simple an affair as they expected, for the Islanders had 
 seen Dutchmen too often to be frightened into submission by their 
 mere appearance, howsoever grim and w^arlike they choose to make 
 themselves by dint of musquetoons and doublets. 
 
 They effected a landing in the little beach at Lemon Valley, and 
 made an attempt to force their way up its acclivitous sides into the 
 
OF THE ISLAND 8T. HELENA. 23 
 
 open country, but the alarm had been spread, Islanders 
 
 appeared on the heights, armed with all the weapons iney could 
 collect for the occasion. 
 
 Tlic hill-^ were very steep and rocky, without the semblance of a 
 decent road, and the Dutchmen heavy. Holland is a flat country, and 
 the natives not experienced in climbingr, thoy soon began to tire, 
 esjKicially when they saw rocks and stones come tumbling about their 
 ears from the hills above them — fur the Islanders assailed t^ -m on all 
 sides with vollies of stones, wbiih went rattling down the hills, crash- 
 ing and thundering, like an avalanche 
 
 They turned many a wistful eye to their shijw, and began to wish 
 themselves safe on buard. It is easier to plod down, than up hill, 6o 
 that they retreated faster than they advanced, and as we bball see, 
 fulfilled to the very letter the truth of the old rhymes, that 
 He who hf^hts and runs away 
 May live to fight another day. 
 
 As soon as they found themselves safely housed on board their ships, 
 they spread all sail and feigned a retreat, but in the mean time made 
 up their minds to make another attempt on some more favorable part 
 of the Island. They stood out to sea till night set in, and then pre- 
 pared to land; they were guided to a landing place called Bonnet's 
 Point, by means of a fire blazing on one of tne hills — at least the 
 historians say so — but their account is a little confused, inasmuch as 
 they state the landing place was called Hennet's Point from the name 
 of the traitorous planter who lighted the beacon ; but in a record 
 several years subsequent to this affair, one Coxe, a planter, had the 
 ill luck to be declared the traitor. 
 
 Not content with this interesting jnmble, they confnse the confusion 
 a little more, by saying that the planter was killed by the Dutch, and 
 that it was his slave who acted as guide ; but for the sake of per- 
 plexity, it is further stated, that the slave was killed, and the master 
 was the party who led them into the country. 
 
 It is a matter of very little consequence, except to the posterity of 
 the parties charged with the guilty deed, the^- may perhaps undertake 
 to clear up the business and etlace the stain from their respective 
 names ; if they are fond of bandying compliments, or indulging in 
 recriminations, here is a fine opportunity for them, but for a grave 
 historian like myself, I can only express my regret, that a doubtful 
 point like this should remain dark and inexplicable in all its hideous 
 deformity— a blot on the fair page of my delectable history. But like 
 Lucan, 1 am thinking that nothing is done if aught is left to do — A'i7 
 actum credens cum quid superesset agendum^ and shall therefore 
 proceed at once into the very thick of the battle. 
 
 The Dutch landed about five hundred men, and marched as well 
 as they could up Swanley Valley, one of the roughest places they 
 could have chosen for the purpose. But tliis time they were more 
 lucky in their venture ; they landed in the dark to the west of the 
 Island, and the valiant garrison of the place had consequently some 
 way to trudge ere they could gain information as to where the butch- 
 men had got to. In the mean time the invaders, by great exertion, 
 had reached the heights, which had given them an appetite; some 
 cows were grazing there, unconscious of the fate awaiting them. 
 
24 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 They made an onslaught on the luckless cattle, and forthwith com- 
 menced preparations for a comfortable tiflin, every man enjoying his 
 Mcas-ee, or a fricandcau a la tSt. Helene, ■which put them all in good 
 spirits and revived their flagging strength. They resumed the inarch, 
 every man eager for battle, and confident of victory. They advanced 
 towards High Peak, a position commanding a fine prospect of the 
 country, with richly wooded hills and rucky vales on their loft, and 
 the deep gorge of Sandy Bay on their right, which was thus secured 
 from attack on the flank : before them rose one or two lofty hills in 
 the distance, the sea bounding the horizon, and the Eng]i?h close 
 nnon them in front — a poor little pariy reconnoitring for the garrison. 
 The Dutch advanced , the English stood still ; one or two vollies flew 
 along their lines, and went rumbling among the valleys at their feet, 
 and on the hills in the distance ; a cloud of smoke hid the unequal 
 combatants from each other ; they broke into skirmishing parties and 
 blazed away from behind stones and trees, until the English over- 
 powered by numbers, commenced a desultory retreat, followed by 
 the Dutchmen, till they lost them in the gullies and among the trees 
 on the hills. The handful of Englishmen were completely, routed 
 and the victors marched on to Ladder Hill, overhanging the little 
 town and its Fort. 
 
 They sent a detachment down the hill into James' Town to capture 
 the Fort, but met with a greater resistance than they expected ; they 
 attempted to storm, and were gallantly repulsed ; but as the Fort was 
 completely commanded by the troops on the hill, it was considered 
 untenable by the Governor — he resolved to abandon it ; and the Dutch 
 do not appear to have had the power to prevent him from so doing. 
 He retired with all his people on board some French and Enslish 
 ships lying in the Bay, and escaped with his most valuable effects ; 
 and alter seeing him at a respectable distance at sea, they took pos- 
 session of the empty Fort, and made the most of their victory. 
 
 They ate and drank and made themselves merry, as all good Dutch- 
 men like to do on such occasions ; they had marched and fought, and 
 now they sought repose on the laurels they had gained. They 
 planted sentinels — the sun set— night closed in— and order reigned in 
 St. Helena— nothing was heard but the sighing of the wind, and the 
 snoring of the sleepy Dutchmen. 
 
 Although the worthy governor had been compelled to leave the 
 Island in a manner much more precipi|ate than pleasant, he neither 
 lost courage, or fell into confusion. He steered his course to Brazil 
 to land his fellow fugitives, and prepare a little vessel for the purpose 
 of cruizing to windward of the Island, and warning all the homeward 
 bound Indiamen that St. Helena was in the hands of the Dutch. 
 
 Amongst those who made this compulsory emigration with the 
 Governor, was a planter with his family, and a slave rejoicing in the 
 euphonous name of Black Oliver. 
 
 As soi;n as they found themselves snugly ensconsed in the Brazils, 
 poor Oliver was sold by his master to one Mr. Abram, a merchant, 
 who dealt in everything, from Guano down to human flesh and blood ; 
 he at the time of purchase, little dreaming that Oliver would one 
 day become famous in the history ol St. Helena, and assist in its 
 recapture. 
 
OP THE ISLAND ST. HELENA. 25 
 
 lie joined the gallant fellows in the sloop designed for tiic windward 
 cruise, and in the sarae nionlh fell in with a small squadron under 
 the command of Captain Munden, a sailor of the lienhow school, 
 vho, it appears, had been sent from England to recapture the Island, 
 and as Oliver know every nook and comer of the Island, he was taken 
 from tiie sloop into the Captain's ship, to act as a guide, if he should 
 be fortunate enough to etliect a landing. 
 
 As soon as captain Munden saw the Island he made preparations to 
 effect a landing, and after a reconno.sancci he pitched upop a spot oo 
 the windward side, in a little bay scooped out of the almost perpen- 
 dicular rock. 
 
 The whole coast hereabouts is very rugged and barren, the pre- 
 cipices in many points rising to a very great height, being altogether 
 a place difficult of access, as there is generally a heavy surf breaking 
 on the rocks 
 
 While the Dutchmen were fast asleep, before break of day, tlie 
 Captain contrived to get two hundred men put on shore, under the 
 command of a captain Kedgwin, conducted by black Oliver as the 
 guide. They landed withotit being observed, and made at once for 
 an accessible point among the rucks overhanging the bay, and soon 
 found themselves under a pretty lofty precipice, and in a delemma at 
 the same time — the question arose, how were they to get on the 
 summit of this obstruction. At last one of the men more nimble or 
 sure-footed than the rest contrived to climb up, and take with him a 
 ball of twine. This was not by any means a trilling undertaking, and 
 none but a reckless venturesome fellow would have done so ; however, 
 the task was undertaken, and must be carried through ; besides, he 
 had as it were staked his character and courage. He made the at- 
 tempt, and while he hung midway on the giddy height, his com- 
 panions below hallooed to encourage him in his uncomfortable journey. 
 
 It was an anxious and exciting moment : and Tom (for such was 
 his name) went scrambling along from rock to rock, at the risk of 
 his neck ; even the encouraging shouts of his companions were of an 
 admonitory nat«re ; they saw the danger, and kept shouting out — 
 ^' hold fast Toia, hold fast Tom ;" till he reached the summit, and 
 found himself far away above them. He then lowered his twine and 
 pulled up a stout rope attached to the end of it, for the purpose of 
 facilitatmg the ascent of the real of the men, which was safely accom- 
 plished. 4. j$ 
 
 From this feat, tradition jtates the bay where they landed was 
 jcalled Prosperous Bay ;, ana the rocks which they ascended, in 
 memory of the exploit have ever since been called from the shouts of 
 the men " hold fast Tom," which they both retain to this day. 
 
 After reaching the heights, they collected their scattered materiali 
 and marched along the slopes of the hills up towards Longwood, and 
 then turned southward to reach the base of the hills from the Sandy 
 Bay ridge. About day break they reached a spot called the Hutts, 
 a small farm, where they halted for breakfast, and to refresh them- 
 selves after their morning's march, for they had still to scramble along 
 a rough and stony ujouutain bi'fore ihcy could reach their point of 
 destination. However, they started atrain in a l.ttle time, and went 
 
 alo;>- «i 1 : I :. ■ - 1'-' ;- T--- '•■"•"' •» ■■ 'r...>.i. \-.-ii..,. ♦;!] 
 
26 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 it turns off to the north, and forms one ot the boundaries of James' 
 Totvn, the object of their adventure, and never paused till they 
 reached the summit of Ruperts Hill, whore they once more overhung 
 the sea, and could look down on the house tops in the little town. 
 
 AVhile these gallant fellows were toiling among the rocks to reach 
 their destination, Captain Munden with the ships had been sailing 
 round for the same point, and came in opposite James Town, where 
 he anchored and cleared his decks for an immediate attack, to the 
 great astonishment of the Dutch, and delight of his companions 
 perched on the rocks above him. 
 
 The Dutch flew to arms, got all their big guns in position, and 
 made a great show of defence, but a brisk cannonade from Munden's 
 ships, and the fear of the men en the rocks, soon induced the Gover- 
 nor to surrender, and give up the place without any further trouble. 
 
 There is a vague tradition floating about the Island, that the capture 
 was effected by captain Munden landing from the sprit sail yard of his 
 ship, on a ledge of rocks now protected by a battery, and called 
 Munden's Point ; but he had no occasion to risk his ship by making 
 any such attempt, for his men had been successful in reaching the 
 hill before his arrival in the bay ; had they failed, or been repulsed, 
 then he would have had good reason for trying to land even at a place 
 like Munden's Point. It is much more probable the Point is named 
 after him from his having placed two pieces of cannon on the top of 
 the hill in a commanding position. 
 
 The luckless Governor and his suite was taken on board the ships 
 as prisoners of war, and strange to say, he was very soon after joined 
 by another Governor, who had the misfortune to fall into the hands 
 of the English. The Dutch had sent out a new Governor, with a 
 reinforcement for the Island, but he never commenced his functions, 
 or landed his men, Captain Munden altered his destination, and 
 changed the spirit of his dream ; he no sooner saw his province than 
 he was a prisoner. And in addition to this, a further and a much 
 greater loss was inflicted on the Dutch, for Munden kept their flag 
 flying, and thus decoyed six of their India ships into the bay, who 
 came close in shore, atid prepared to make themselves comfortable. 
 But while they were feasting on the pleasures of an imaginary trip in 
 the Island, they were suddenly and impetuously attacked by the 
 English garrison ; the Vice and Rear Admirals of the convoy were 
 taken, but four of the vessels had the good fortune to escape, princi- 
 pally through the premature attack of Munden's men. 
 
 The captain having been so far successful, set to work to organize 
 a garrison for the little town, and drafted detachments *fi'om each of 
 his ships, in the whole amounting to one hundred and sixty men, 
 whom he put under the command of Captain Kedgwin, who had 
 materially assisted at the capture ; he was made Governor of the 
 Island, and left in possession of full powers on behalf of his employer 
 the English Government. 
 
 Munden having thus set his house in order, weighed anchor and 
 sailed for England with his prizes, where he arrived in safety, had an 
 interview with the King, and received the honor of Knighthood for 
 his conduct through this business. 
 
 The Island was taken from the English in the latter end of the 
 
OF THE ISLAND ST. UELENA« 27 
 
 year 1672, and retaken from the Dutch in tlie middle of the next 
 year 1673, being an interval of about nine months only, no that no 
 time had been lost by the Knglish in making preparations for its re- 
 rapture ; the plan was well conceived, and promptly carried into 
 oxerution. 
 
 The successful recapture of the Island for some time put an end to 
 all fighting and squabuling, and thus gave the home government time 
 to think about turning it to the beat account. It was re granted to 
 ^he East India Comjwny by a new Charter in the year 1673, a few 
 lonths only after Munden had reached England, to be held by them 
 s the Lortls Proprietors, with all the rights and powers of sovereignty. 
 They had liberty to erect forts and fortifications, to keep a garrison, 
 w ith tiie advantage of sending provisions there without the payment 
 of any duty to the crown, and to govern it in such '* legall and 
 reasonable manner as the governor and company shall see fitt," re- 
 serving to the crown only " the due faith and allegiance of the com- 
 pany and inhabitants." 
 
 It was to be " holden of us, our heirs and successors as of the 
 manner of East Greenwich in the county of Kent, in free and common 
 soccage, and in capite, not by knights service," with all the arms, 
 ammunition, and in fact everything on tliC Island— a magnificent start 
 for a new Company. 
 
 Their legislative powers extended to lite and limb, provided there 
 was nothing in their proceedings contrary to the spirit of the laws of 
 England : in military matters they had supreme and uninterrupted 
 jurisdiction, with full power to *'expell, repeil, resist, subdue, 
 retayne, and possess," every person who should attempt to settle on 
 the Island without their full and free permission ; but all English 
 subjects, bom in or inhabiting the Island, should be considered as 
 '* free denizens of England," amenable in truth to the laws of the 
 Company, yet still under the protection of the British Parliament, to 
 which they could appeal in ease of any infringement of the principles 
 of the constitution. 
 
 No sooner was the Company in possession of this new Charter, than 
 a new Governor with four Councillors was chosen for the management 
 of the Island. Ciiptain Kedgwin, who had assisted in re-tiiking the 
 Island, was re-placed, and handsomely rewarded on his return home. 
 And black Oliver, who had acted as guide on the occasion, was not 
 forgotten, he was made a free planter, set up with land and cattle, 
 and commenced the world with a fair start, but being of a fickle and 
 somewhat turbulent disposition, he subsequently lost his life and all 
 he possessed, in a wild attack on the fort, during an attempt to get 
 up a rebellion. 
 
 It was rare times then for young people, great inducements were 
 held out to increase matrimony and population. If a soldier married 
 1 young woman of the Island, or one sent out from England, he had 
 
 i^rant of twenty acres of land and two cows, but it he married a 
 • planter's widow," and became entitled to her deceased husband's 
 land, he was to have ten acres of land and one cow, while every 
 unmarried man from England had ten acres and a cow given him to 
 set him up, and ten acres more with another cow, if he took unto 
 himself a wife. But to make the thing more complete, they should 
 
28 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 have granted *' ten acres and cow" lor every child born on the Island, 
 the population would then have increased in a much greater ratio than 
 it did, because the inhabitants would have been paid fur their 
 trouble, and surely every labourer is worthy of his hire. Every 
 landholder of ten acres was a sort of Knight, holding under the 
 Company by a feudal tenure, for he had to furnish and maintain " one 
 Englishman" capable of bearing arms for the defence of the place. 
 The Island must have wofully degenerated since these martial times, 
 for it would be a sore puzzle for a farmer now adays to keep a wife, 
 and " one Englishman" on ten acres of ground and a cow, either he 
 or the cow would starve in the experiment, unless they could contrive 
 to live on prickly pears, and wire grass. However, strange to say, 
 these munificent regulations actually succeeded in bringing numbers 
 of settlers from England, who made a decent militia, and by the 
 diligent performance of their military duties, enabled the Company 
 to reduce their standing force to fifty men. 
 
 In order to make sure of getting good fortifications, all captains 
 of their ships weie invited to give their opinions as to the most eligible 
 system to be adopted. The result may be readily anticipated — 
 opinions differ on all things, fortifications not excepted; the con- 
 sequence was, nothing more was done than to construct lines across 
 the valleys, and in some places to erect a few harmless batteries, 
 raised a little above the level of the sea ; the heights were totally 
 neglected, and for more than a century not one knew what it was to 
 be covered with a bristling tiara of big guns and embrasures. 
 
 The civil and military ofiicers of the Company were maintained by 
 the produce of the Government lands, and all dined at the same 
 table, from the Governor down to the Sergeant of the Guard. All 
 this *' liberty and equality" went on very well for a time, but pride 
 crept in amongst the happy officials, distinctions arose, and complaints 
 soon followed, for the Company's *' Commanders" did not relish their 
 dinners in company with the Sergeants and Smith, so that at last one 
 of the Governors came to the grave conclusion " that nobody ought to 
 sit at table with him who is not cleanly drest, and that has an 
 infectious distemper on him, or that is drunk," which was, no doubt, 
 very satisfactory to the commanders and their friends, but even this 
 salutary regulation had to be improved upon. 
 
 It was soon after determined, that " there shall stand a salt upon 
 the table, and those who sit above the salt shall drink as they think 
 proper either wine or punch ; but those "who sit below the salt — poor 
 fellows! — shall have to two persons, one common bowl of punch 
 (which contains about three pints), or in case of wine instead thereof, 
 one bottle for each bowl of punch," so that on the whole, the 
 Governor appears to have been very sol.citous about the " Minor 
 Morals" of his little colony. The patrician part of his friends had 
 liberty to drink as *' they think fit," and the plebians had no great 
 cause to murmur, inasmuch as they were allowed at dinner, a pint 
 and a half each of punch, a very lair quantum if it Mas anything at 
 all better than six water giog. It is much' to be regretted that the 
 records do not give us the recipe for the manufacture of this punch, 
 it would be a culinary curiosity, worthy of the Governor and Council 
 who devised, and the people who imbibed it. 
 
OF THE ISLAND 8T. HELENA. 29 
 
 Things went on swimmingly for a few years ; great cfTorts were made 
 to instruct tlic negros ; those who received baptism, were allowed 
 seven years afterwards to hocomc free planters ; the number of 
 proselytes is not stated, but before long a place for public worship was 
 erected nt Chappet Valley, and soun after that, a contribution raised 
 for erectinjr a church in iho cnnntry, the ori^rlnal perbape of that 
 recently pulled down. A market was also founded, for the accom- 
 modation of those who had anything to sell, or who witJu'd to invest 
 capital on a small scale in the produce of the Island, or speculate in 
 " pompions," or '' madagascar yams." 
 
 The first settlers on the Island, we have seen, introduced slavery, 
 which continued without interruiniou till the year 1C79, when a 
 restriction was put upon the furiher importation, in consequence of a 
 -Towing dread of danger from insurrection, although at the time in 
 question, they only amounted to the number of eighty. A few years 
 however the restriction was resciiidcd, and a new regulation laid down 
 to the effect, that for every slave iijtrodu<*ed the purchaser should 
 either pay ten shillings, or maintain a white militia ruwn — a very 
 efficacious method of enhancing the price of labour, which however, 
 was modified by another rule, that every ]\iadaga.sca.- ship calling for 
 refreshment, should leave a male or female negro at the choice of the 
 Governor, for the benefit of the government plantations. 
 
 Severe laws were enacted to keep the slaves in due discipline and 
 subjection, and as in modern armies, the la;h was held to be the best 
 industrial stimulant ; they almost surpass the bounds of credibility, 
 like the laws of Draco, they were written in blood, and ba=ed too 
 often, unlike his, on the grossest principles of injustice, as merciless 
 as they were partial, degrading at once to the executive and the 
 helpless victim surrendered to its remorseless power. The evidence 
 op^egroes as at present m America, was inadmissible in a court of law, 
 they were severely punished for trifling offences, for a word uttered in 
 anger, a frown, or a ca«ual want of attention. They were dragged 
 to the police oflSce to be judged by a slave holding magistrate, marched 
 from thence to a public whipping post, where a drummer stood ready 
 to receive them, cat in hand. 
 
 Twice a week, till within a recent period, were the stocks dyed 
 with the blood from the lascerated backs of the friendless slaves, and 
 the hills echoed with their hopeless cries. It Mas worse than death 
 for a slave to raise his hand against his master, even in self defence. 
 No excuse was aiimissjible, he might be worried, goaded, and driven 
 to phrcnzy by the cruelty, or heartlessness of his inhuman owner ; 
 I he act might be committed umler the excitement of the moment — 
 he result of unbearable tyranny — but no excuse was admissible — tho 
 law had been pronounced and it was inexorable. 
 
 The Women were chained, flogge 1, branded on face and forehead, 
 and mutilated by lopping off both cars, but the sterner sex were 
 caponised and converted into meet companions for the seraglio guards, 
 and brothers in misfortune to the hapless Abelard. 
 
 A spirit of insubordination spning up in a quarter where it was 
 least expected ; the soldiers began to murmur at some fancied neglect, 
 and from menace were foolish enough to proceed to the extremity of 
 open sedition, which was only subdued by tlw. rninn.ir>v'< shnvs assist- 
 ing the authorities with their crews. 
 
30 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 One Doctor Sault ("the Chaplain) was a great instrument in these 
 squabbles, he was always in hot water, quarrelling with the Gover- 
 nor, insulting the Council, and giving himself all manner of conse- 
 quential airs, misleading the people, and making a fool of h.mself, 
 till he was brought to his scinses, by a stringent order from home, to 
 turn him out of the Island, if he would not learn to behave better. 
 
 There appears to have been but little religion, and less morality, 
 among the clergy then on the Island, as some of them are branded 
 as being drunkards, and general profligates — a heavy charge, but 
 nevertheless brought forward by a grave historian. In 1684 there 
 was a mutiny among the troops and militia-men ; they made an attack 
 upon the Governor, and attempted to capture the Fort, but were re- 
 pulsed and several of their party slain, among tlie rest, our old friend, 
 "black Oliver," who, after all his elForts for the Company, the 
 honors and rewards liberally bestowed upon him, threw away his life 
 in a rebellious attack on the Government. The usual result followed 
 — trials and executions — more complaints arose, which led to further 
 trials, and again the hangman had his godless fees. 
 
 After having settled all these complaints and mutinies, the Company 
 turned fheir n.ttention to improving the Island, by increasing its pro- 
 ductiveness. They welcomed any one who had or was supposed to 
 have any acquaintance v.iih agriculture. And oddly enough, after 
 the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, several Frenchmen came to 
 settle on the Island : this was considered a good opportunity to improve 
 the growth of the vine ; accordingly one Captain Porrier and his 
 fellow immigrants had a district assigned to them. Great expecta- 
 tions were raised ; grapes were to be plentiful, and wine cheap. But 
 it appears to have been the case in most experiments of the kind — 
 it terminated in failure, and the disappointed inhabitants had to get 
 their wine from other quarters, and forgo the pleasure of eating grapes 
 and drinking native wines. 
 
 In l()9l, the brave old navigator, Dampier, paid the Island a visit, 
 and informs us there were good guns planted by the sea, from one end 
 of the bay to the other, besides a small Fort, which made the place 
 so strong that he considered it could not very easily be taken. There 
 were not more than twenty or thirty houses in the town, and they 
 were all built of rough stone, very poor furniture in them, all in a 
 rough and ready backwood style, except the Governor's near the Fort, 
 which was a little more decent. The people, however, mostly lived 
 in the country, and only occupied their houses in the little town when 
 they were attracted thither by the advent of any ships in want of pro- 
 visions ; then they came down with all the carrots and cabbages they 
 could muster, to sell to the weather-beaten mariners who had called 
 in upon them. 
 
 The climate was very healthy, insomuch that men who had been 
 carried on i-hore in hammocks, and wholly unable to crawl, were 
 cured and made perfect in "a vveek's time," and were soon able to 
 *' leap and dance" as well as their companions. All of which won- 
 derful effects were attributed to the wholesomeness of the air, and the 
 fresh breeze, constantly sweeping over the place, and driving all dis- 
 tempers away. 
 
 Old Dampier also very gravely informs us, that while he stayed on 
 
Ol' TUB ISLAND ST. HELENA. 31 
 
 he Island, many of the sailors fell in love and got swcGtheart« — a« 
 hiiilors now very olten do, when they have spare time in their 
 hands — for even love at first sight requires a hlt!e time to bnm up 
 clear and strong, — like a spark in a tinder b(;x struck from the 
 flint, it sets fire only to a wee bit at first, then bums and tooouldert 
 till the whole is in a ^»lazo. 
 
 One scilor was more lucky than the rest, fur he not only pot a 
 sweetheart, but had time to make her his wife and carried her off in 
 triumj)h with him to England — where let us hope she turned out to 
 be an honor to the I.>land, and a pearl of exceeding great price to her 
 romantic and adventurous husband. 
 
 Another happy fellow was equally smitten with one of the belles of 
 the place — but alas, ** the course of true love never did run smooth,'* 
 ho could not make her his wife here, they vowed eternal love to each 
 other, »nd cntrn d into obligatory bonds to fulfil the "fearful compact** 
 when they should arrive in England, for he contrived to take her with 
 him in his ship. Several other of the men besides these, fell 
 head over ears in love, and entirely lost their hearts to the Saint 
 Helena maids. He says the girls were all agog for running away 
 from their native place, and very earnestly desired '* to be released 
 from that prison," which they had no way of accomplishing, but by 
 fascinating and taking captive the tender hearts of anyj-eamen or 
 passengers who might give them a look in, which is not saying very 
 much for their love of country ; but it was very excusable if young 
 men were scarce— girls aro always romantic, and very few of them 
 like to waste their beauties *' in the desert air.'* 
 
 He winds up by telling us " they are well shaped, proper, and 
 comely," very necessary qualifications for hubby hunting damsels ; — 
 hut then the old sinner qualifies it all by adding *' were they in a 
 dress to set them oft'," which would lead us to believe that the young 
 ladies of the olden time in St. Helena were not quite so fond of dress 
 and finery, as they are at present. But time is pressing, we must go 
 at once fronl the sunny fields of love and matrimony, into the miry 
 j)aths of blood and mutiny, stojjping by the way, to state that an 
 unfortunate governor broke his luckless neck, by a fall from the 
 .slippery path on Putty Hill. 
 
 In 1693, a sergeant of the garrison and thirteen accomplices foim 
 a design for carrying otV the Colonial Treasury, atd strange to say, 
 they were successful. The sergeant being on duty at the Fort, 
 introduced his companions, who, as soon as possible, commenced 
 operations by seizing all the people in it, whom they secured and 
 kept in some underground vaults. The (iovemor was seized, a 
 struggle ensued, the mulince;s firod, ho fell, being severely wounded 
 in the head by a ball, Irom which he soon after died. They took the 
 ])recaution to secure the cai)tain of a ship lying at the anchorage, on 
 board of which, after a deal of scheming to get provisions, they aent 
 their plunder. 
 
 The garrison, such as it was, appear to have been quite panic 
 stricken and paralized by the deliberate proceedings of the mutineers ; 
 they threw no obstacles in the way of these reckless villains, who 
 finally escaped from the Island with all their booty, and >\ithout Ihc 
 loss of a single man on their side, the only death being that of the 
 unlortunutc Goveinor. 
 
32 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 These troubles had scarcely been settled, and a new Governor 
 chosen, before symptoms of dissatisfaction and mutiny appeared 
 among- all classes of the people. The militia would submit to none 
 but officers chosen from their own body ; the soldiers were equally 
 insubordinate; planters had many greivances claiming redress; and 
 the blacks were conspiring to massacre the whites, and seize a ship, 
 in imitation of Jackson. They were, however, discovered in time 
 and arrested, many of them repeatedly and severely flogged, and then 
 turned out of the Island. The authorities thought to intimidate the 
 rest, by an example of fearful and barbarous srverity. Two of the 
 leaders were half hanged, cut down alive, embowelled and quartered, 
 their heads taken off, and exposed in the crossways— a revolting and 
 hideous spectacle resorted to for the purpose of adding horror to the 
 vengeance of the law. One wretch, perhaps more guilty than the 
 rest, was hooped in chains, and hung np alive in his horrible cage on 
 Ladder Hill, there to be starved to death, under the eyes of masters, 
 slaves, royalists, and revolters. Bat the lingering agony and dying 
 groans of this hapless wretch failed to keep down the spirit of insur- 
 rection and mutiny. While his fleshless bones hung bleaching in the 
 sun, swinging about in the wind, and battered by the rains, his own 
 race once more essayed to gain the mastery, and miserably failed ; 
 again the hangman did his work — vengeance called for blood — it 
 flowed — and once more the law was satisfied. 
 
 The whole colony was at this time in a state of violent effervescence, 
 no one was at peace with his neighbour, the deputy governor chal- 
 lenged the governor to fight, he subsequently died, and a second one 
 turned out to be quite as bad — mutinous in language, and violent in 
 conduct ; the chaplain was a debauched and reckless villain, unworthy 
 of his position, and a disgrace to the church he belonged to. Morality 
 under such circumstances as these, was at a very low ebb ; drunken- 
 ness revelled in the full tide of its grovelling and degrading bestiality, 
 it flowed on unchecked for years, and brought in its train an accum- 
 mulation of misery and evils, not readily to be surmised, or easily 
 described. The whole machinery of government was disorganized, 
 part clashed with part, the governed with the governors, and the 
 governing among themselves; assaults, recriminations, prosecutions, 
 brawls, squabbles, insubordination, and general disorder, marked 
 the conclusion of the seventeenth century. 
 
 After passing over a variety of minor events, we come once again 
 to a battle, a naval one this time, resulting in the loss of two India- 
 men. Two of the Company's ships, the Queen and the Dovet\ were 
 lying snugly at anchor in the bay, never dreaming of the approach 
 of an enemy. At daybreak however, signals announced the approach 
 of two vessels, which loomed large in the distance. They were under 
 Dutch colours. As they were passing Banks' Battery, they showed 
 no disposition to send off a boat to ask permission to enter the bay ; 
 a shot was fired to remind them of their want of politeness, which 
 they answered, by lowering their topsails, and firing a salute of five 
 guns. One of them, after having paid this compliment to the 
 garrison, bore directly up to the Queen, ranged alongside, and sent 
 into her a cowardly volley, from their small armed men, stationed in 
 the tops. 
 
OP THE ISLAND 8T. HELENA. 33 
 
 This wa» on itxlifrnity not readily to be submitted to by the 
 Enplish comman<ler, sd he at once returned the compliment by a 
 broad -ih' from the Quien. The fight however, was soon determined, 
 and th<' Queen carried by a bnardirii,' party, and finally taken. After 
 perfbnn.nj? this exploit, they struck their Dutch flaprs and hoisted the 
 French, to lot the astonished parrison know of what nation they 
 really consisted. Tho Dover saved her powder and shot, and the 
 Krone!. man a deal of trouble, by 8trikin<^ at onc(>, as she had no 
 < liancf. a^iinst two double-decked, well amied vessels. 
 
 This took place in broad dayligrlit, under the very nose of the 
 Governor, who, as soon as he had cuUocted his scattered senses 
 orders to fire upon the two piratical Frenchmen from the ba: 
 but as mo'*fly happens in these case«, the careful gunners had nijiumg 
 roa<ly — their matches were carefully stowed away, their powder was 
 anywhere but wl.e.'rt it should have been, and their sponges were all 
 at sixes and -evens, none of them fittino: the puns. 
 
 While tho valiant troops weie huiitinp after their warlike stores, 
 the Frcnehmon amused themselves at their leisure by cutting the 
 cables of the two luckless Indiamen, and by way, either of exercising 
 their guns, showing oft' their skill, or intimidating the Garrison, they 
 fired one or two bro;e I -sides at the batteries, spread all sail, and sooa 
 vanij»hed from the si. lit of the Governor, and his very vigilant senti- 
 nels. This affair happened on the first day of June 170G, and oa 
 the same memorable day, nearly ninety years afterwards, the French 
 were paid back in kind with much greater interest than they wished, 
 
 ther to receive, or acknowledge. 
 
 In order to prevent the recurrence of a similar misfortune, orders 
 were given that all ships touching at St. Helena, should be compelled 
 to send a boat to Hanks', to get permission to come into the bay ; 
 and further, that from thence forward all the Company's ships should 
 moor close in shore, under the batteries at Ladder Hill. Misfortune 
 seldom comes single, no sooner had this untoward event been regis- 
 tered as a thing of the past, than up sprung another— menacing the 
 very existence, not of the ships, or the Island, but of the Company 
 itself. A formidable rival had crept into the lists in the shape of a 
 new Company, trading to the East, which not only disputed the 
 trade, but even the right of the old Company to make them ask 
 permission to water their vessels at St. Helena. From words they 
 
 ne to blows; a captain belonging to the new Company, sent his boat 
 
 'h an armed crew to gel water, the Governor detached a party up 
 !'3 hills to roll stones down upon the heads of the do \ 
 • .ekers — a very pleasant pastime for a gan*ison not o\ 
 with business. In order however to show some little civ imv u- inc 
 new Company's bellicose captain, the troops were not allowed to fire, 
 unless any of his men should have made use of their guns to return 
 the compliment of the volleys of stones, and prove their pugnacity ia 
 skinnishmg for their employers. 
 
 After this a new idea presented itself to the luminous i. 
 •w Company's directors, they sent an agent to reside at > 
 he was to give orders and (fireetions to their ships whenever they 
 should arrive. This was a nrt)c«'eding altogether oft'ensivo to the 
 ]>vide and dignity of the old company — it was as bad ux fact at 
 
34 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 admitting a bailiff into the house, so they bundled up his papers and 
 packed him off home again ; he would have been a spy upon their 
 proceedings ; they consequently came to the conclusion that riddance 
 was the best quittanre. 
 
 However successful they might have been in turning out the agent, 
 they could not keep the new Company altogether at bay ; it grew in 
 strength, had some good friends to back it in England, and at last 
 became a match for the old Company. Their disputes would have 
 been endless; they would have wrangled, squabbled, and ruined 
 each others resources. It was discovered that if they could not agree 
 separately, they might together — and so they coalesced, joined 
 purses, and called themselves the " United Company of Meichants 
 of England, trading to the East Indies." The Island, the innocent 
 cause of the greater part of their squabbles, was taken from the 
 original Company and ceded to the new united one, in whose hands 
 it remained till finally tranferred to the British Government in the 
 year 1836. 
 
 Buildings and improvements of all kinds were now commenced ; 
 Forts, Barracks, Batteries, and Official Houses began to show them- 
 selves above ground, and made heavy drains on the Treasurer's strong 
 box. Rewards were offered for the discovery of Lime, Gold, and 
 Copper Mines, of the existence of which they had not the slightest 
 doubt. 
 
 They soon found Lime, and then at last they stumbled upon what 
 was very like gold, but unfortunately, for all their brilliant hopes, 
 upon trial, it "evaporated in fume"! and left them a few pounds 
 poorer than when they began gold hunting. Lime they could not 
 burn without coals, therefore they sent off to England for a supply, 
 an(i stopped all their works in the mean time ; dismissed their 
 Engineer who was *' no gentleman," altogether useless from being 
 *' idle, ignorant, and lazy," not knowing how to " obey orders or give 
 directions," altogether a very pretty fellow ! 
 
 They were more busy than ever in their farming operations, they 
 set fences, imported all kinds of vegetables, planted groves of 
 Gurawood and Lemon trees, cultivated the Castor Oil plant, got 
 sugar to grow in Sandy Bay, and were in great hopes of exporting 
 the produce, but could'nt grow enough for their own use. After 
 great exertion had been used, and much money spent, they succeeded 
 at last in making up a list of things they could, and in fact did 
 produoe ; it was a joyous day, happiness beamed on every man's face, 
 the Yammers (Islanders) weie in raptures, its fortunate days were 
 now about to burst upon it, and so in the fulness of their hearts, they 
 resolved ** to fire nine guns," and send *' a pound or two" of sugar 
 as a sop to the directors, who were to have '* showers of blessings" 
 from the happy and delighted people. 
 
 From Lime and Gold hunting, they took to law mending, an easy 
 transition no doubt, and after a deal of multifarious rummaging and 
 reading among old musty deeds, laws, and leases, they got them 
 all arranged and engrossed in a big book, entitled " Laws and 
 Ordinances" — a splendid proof of their industry and devotion. A 
 great meeting was called, it consisted of thirty-six people, the laws 
 were read to them, and copies deposited with the churchwardens for 
 
OF THE ISLAND 8T. HELRNA. 91^ 
 
 public distribution. They even asked the people to make obttrvatKMUi 
 on these laws, the con8equ*^ncc was tiiat nineteen objection* were got 
 up aprainst them by way of demurrer, and delivered into the hana of 
 the Governor, who was very inuoh astonished to find that any objec- 
 tions could be raised against his incomparable code. 
 
 They first requested that sHl the chief families might be allowed 
 to have arms in their houses, doubtless for protection against their 
 somewhat rebellious slaves. Thon that their "friendly meetings'* 
 and •' merry makings" should not be deemed '* riots,"— a very reason- 
 able request if they were at all disposed to be wise, as well as to be 
 merry. 
 
 This is immediately followed by a clause professing their dislike to 
 be "corporally punished," and their willingness to submit to a fine, 
 in case of any neglect of duty on their part, which shews they had 
 some little respect for the majesty of the law, but that they preferred 
 having its penalties administered as best suited their own convenience 
 and inclination. 
 
 They desired free trade, and objected to being compelled to bring 
 their goods out of the country •* to a public market," where, of course, 
 the had to pay fees, and required •* free liberty to sell beofe to shipps," 
 und humbly desired, that whenever their blacks should take french 
 leave and run away, they should not be compelled to pay fourfold for 
 what the runaways might steal for their- own especial comfort and 
 sustenance And then in the matter of d<igs, they desired that ** them- 
 selves should not be obliged to lead their doggs in a string,'* but with 
 their usual politeness, are quite willing their servant should do it for 
 them. Was ever a governor so pestered before, or a people so 
 tyrannised over, as to be compelled to trudge about the stre**! with 
 their dogs tied to a string ; there was neither liberty for man or beast, 
 and so they kicked at it, the governor listened to their appeal, and 
 dispensed with this sage piece of law, to their entire satisfaction. 
 
 From dogs they pass on to dead cattle, and then stop short at the 
 fencing, where they entreat " they may not be compelled to fence in 
 their land at all, it being a new thing they had never heard of before :** 
 which dislike to fencing has been transmitted to their posterity, who 
 care but little about that part of the farmer's business, and seem to 
 delight in delapidated hedges and make-shitt gates. Tbev preferred 
 the civil to the martial law, and demanded permission to board ships 
 in the bay, of course asking the government first, ibr otherwise, how 
 could they have a " trade in beeie" and vegetables. 
 
 We have seen their very first request was to keep guns, and as a 
 natural consequence in the middle of the list of all their wants and 
 wishes, they squeeze in, as if by accident, another, " that each cluef 
 of family that has guns allowed him may, for their diversion, have 
 liberty to go a shooting ;" to which the governor responds, that they 
 *' must keep w.thin the law," and not presume to take upon themselves 
 any additional privilege without his special permission, his being the 
 power cither to '• give or let alone." 
 
 A f.er having asked for all these alterations ond ameudmentt, they 
 desired liberty to make use of the great wood mud coinmoo, otherwise 
 " thev would be ruined," at which the governor kicked, uulesi they 
 would agree to plant one acre of wjod for every ttui aciet of kud ihey 
 
36 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 possessed; otherwise, he tells them, "you shall have no benefit of 
 our wood or common," which is very plain and as explicit as all such 
 documents shouhl be, for the sake of avoiding squabbles and useless 
 litigation. They finally wind up their various requests, by an address 
 to the Governor and Council, in which they profess to be very loyal 
 and loving subjects of their " honorable masters," and gave the gover- 
 nor and his sage coadjutors most humble and hearty thanks for having 
 " bin pleased to communicate to us the aforesaid laws," and wish him 
 all the "health imaginable" in his government, and themselves, "a 
 quiet and peaceable living under it." Tliey were made supremely 
 happy by being allowed guns — to sell beef to the ships— and in not 
 being compelled to lead their dogs about in a string, like so many 
 miserable mountebanks at a fair, or bhnd beggars wandering in search 
 of alms. 
 
 The Governors were quite as eccentric as the people they had to 
 govern ; some were good, some bad, some indifferent — middling, busy, 
 or idle, as the case happened to be. Governor Roberts, an active, 
 enterprising man, restored good order into the affairs of the Island, 
 but could not escape the charge of favoriti*;m and severity, wliich 
 induced him to request that an order might be j)Lib!ished by tuck of 
 drum, for every one who could prove that " I have wronged 'em to 
 the value of a single groat, I will make 'em a round satisfaction." 
 And what was perhaps equally to the point, that he would, do the 
 same to any " person that can prove I have got a groat by 'em." He 
 was snubbed by his council, and the council by the company at home. 
 
 He was succeeded by a Captain Boucher, an adventurer who laid 
 waste half the company's property to fill his own pockets. His favorite 
 amusement was donkey riding, of which animals he kept a fine stud, 
 and had a large riding house built at the expense of the company, in 
 which he might enjoy a donkey's gallop, short and sweet, and doubt- 
 less very amusing to a man of his Assinine mind. A conspiracy sprung 
 up against him, but was discovered, and the ringleaders sent oft" the 
 Island to Bencoolen, by way of transportation. And as a suitable 
 wind up to his affairs, when he left the Island he very coolly stript 
 the castle of every portable article, and turned them to his own 
 account : he reigned three years, and resigned at last of his own free 
 will, much to the pleasure of the company, and joy of the Islanders, 
 whom he had half ruined by his pernicious and nefarious conduct. 
 
 Governor succeeded governor in rapid succession, but all more or 
 less were tainted vv.fh the same grovelling propensities — petty tyrants 
 lording it in a remote and isolated place — giving free scope to their 
 passiohs, plundering the company ai.d abusing the interests of the 
 people. The exceptions were "like angels visits — few and far be- 
 tween. ' The best of them were anything but blameless ; acts of 
 injustice, tyranny, and petty frauds may be too often proved against 
 them ; they appear not to have had any settled idea as to what the 
 duties of a governor are, or what his conduct ought to be. They 
 fined, punished, pilloried, vhipt, and imprisoned at pleasure, turned 
 free blacks into slaves for minor oifierces, dismissed commissioned 
 officers without a court martial, and civilians without an enquiry. 
 Bad grew to worse; evil upon evils accumulated; the laws were 
 partially administered ; truth was a rarety, and justice a novelty. 
 
OF THE ISLAND ST. HELENA. ^T 
 
 One thing led to anothor, and at last brought on a mutiny of th«^ 
 little garrison — a storm in a gaily pot — but neverthcicM a bold and 
 unexpected mMtiny. This unpleasant affair happened in 1783, and 
 arose about grog, canteens, ajid punch houses. 
 
 The Council had all at once been seized with a newfangled notion, 
 that it would be very desirable to put the garrison of St. Helena under 
 the same regulations as that of Gibraltar, but the soldiers th(Hight 
 very differently ; and never having been U'.der anything like strict 
 discipline, it was a novelty that they could nor would not understand. 
 They had boon accustomed to smoke their pipes, drink grog, and sing 
 songs at the punch houses in the town, when they were free from 
 military restraint, and could not brojk the idea of being compelled to 
 go to a canteen kept by one of the company's |)eople. They ha«l 
 other grievances, but like true bon vivants, they made this the caivi 
 belli, and upon the strength of it brewed up a mutiny, as futile as it 
 was foolish. 
 
 There was a great deal of planning, scheming', marching, counter- 
 marching, protocolling, and par'eying, much threatening, a fight for 
 ten minutes, a discharge of musketry, two men killed, throe wounded, 
 one hundred and three taken prisoners in fight, ninety-nine tried and 
 condemned to death, ten really executed, and the rest pr.rdoned. 
 After this business had been adjusted as well as it could be. those of 
 the garrison suspected of want of loyalty and devotion to the com- 
 pany, were turned out of the Island ; the remainder behaved thcm- 
 tot'lves much better after such a summary and efficacious clearance. 
 The governor himself soon after retire^!, and was succecdf d by one 
 more able to fill the office, and better acquainted with its duties than 
 had been most of his numerous predecessors. 
 
 Governor Brooke, soon after his arrival, wished to introduce forced 
 labour by way of punishment for minor offences, instead of the de- 
 grading lash ; but to his astonishment he found that many of the 
 soldiers preferred fiogcing to being compelled to work. However, he 
 caused these tough bucked fellows to be placed in a sepaiaie body, 
 called the *'Miscieants Mess." Here they were badly fed, laughed 
 at by their comrades, and ridiculed by every body, which had more 
 effect in softening their callous hearts than either compulsory wurk, 
 or the tickling of the nine tailed cat. They became g od orderly 
 soldiers, and just in the same ratio as judicious kindness and proper 
 treatment increased towards them, so did they gradually emerge from 
 their low and debased practices ; they learnt to respect themselves, 
 and when once that point is reached, they are sure to be respected by 
 others. The militia was also attended to, and increased, by the 
 addition of two companys of blacks, who were drilled twice a week 
 till they obtained sufficient proficiency in their manouvres. The forti- 
 fications were much improved and extended by the exertions of the 
 governor, but not to the full extent ho wished them to be ; he strength- 
 ened the heights and many of the defiles leading from the country, 
 replaced mortars and field pieces in more effective positions, and on 
 the whole, added much to the defensive resources of the Island. 
 Telegraphs were established to announce the appearance of ships, 
 and transmit mossagei with greater rapidity than had ever been done 
 before ; and to facilitate the trade and commerce, a now lauding place 
 
1B8 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 was formed, with the addition of a crane, so that boats might dis- 
 charge their cargos at almost any time without incurring so much 
 danger as they had previously done. 
 
 The year 1795 opened upon a scene somewhat new to the good 
 people of St. Helena— that of great bustle and preparation for no less 
 than an attack on the Cape of Good Hope. The plea being, that as 
 the French had overrun Holland, the Dutch would be compelled to 
 join the French in the war against England ; and to prevent this, an 
 expedition was to be sent to seize the Castle at the Cape. Governor 
 Brooke selected three hundred men, put them on board of a man of 
 war and some of the Company's ships lying in the bay — took military 
 command of the force, and set sail for the Cape. On his way, how- 
 ever, he found that he had been too late in starting, inasmuch as Sir 
 G. Elphinstone and General Craig had accomplished what he was 
 only then going to attempt ; so he put back, but not before he had 
 learnt that a fleet of twenty homeward bound vessels were about 
 leaving the Cape. This was a prize he much coveted ; he therefore 
 exerted himself to equip a little fleet to intersept them, made up of 
 the aibresaid man of war, the Sceptre, and a few of the Company's 
 vessels, the captains of which all pi-otested against the governor 
 making any such use of ships under their command, more however, 
 to secure themselves from blame in case of loss or damage, than from 
 any disproval of his proceeding's. 
 
 At last they sailed, and aft^r a few casualties, such as splitting 
 .«ails, springing a mast, and other matters of the kind incidental to 
 the sea, they fell in with the Dutch convoy. They exchanged a few 
 unshotted guns, by way of calling upon each other to surrender, but 
 as neither party felt inclined to do so without a brush for it, they 
 shotted their guns and prepared for a fight. The Dutch captains 
 plied their men well with spirits to keep them up to the fighting 
 mark, they consequently let tly a few shots, to which the Sceptre 
 replied in good earnest, which induced the Dutchmen to think 
 about the business a second time. He arrived at the conclusion, that 
 it would be saving himself and the English a deal of trouble, smash- 
 ing and battering, if he surrendered ; down went the flags of seven 
 of his ships ; the victorious tars took possession, and soon afterwards 
 brought them into James' Town Bay, where they made a goodly 
 show, and gladdened the hearts of the now exalted Islanders. 
 
 Scarcely had the hubbub occasioned by this adventure settled down, 
 when the Sphynx man of war came in from the Cape, with a letter 
 requesting the assistance of the Island. It was granted ; arms, ammu- 
 nition, money, and men, were sent as requested; the fortunate gover- 
 nor gained new laurels, and the hearty thanks of the " powers that be" 
 at home, besides the present of a sword from Lord Mornington, 
 which had been taken in the palace of Tippoo Saib at the seige of 
 Scringapatam. 
 
 A detachment from the Saint Helena Garrison was also sent to the 
 aid of Lord Bercsford, then on his way to South America — the result 
 was unfortunate, after taking Buenos Ayres he was ultimately com- 
 pelled lo abandon it, which however has but little business in this 
 sketch, except to show that St. Helena Soldiers in those days were 
 not altogether unused to the vicissitudes of real warfare, and could 
 
OF THE ISTJkND ST. HELENA. 8$ 
 
 make thom^clvps "generally useful" when railed upon «o to do — 
 l)fing neither afiaid of wind, rain, the enemy, or the " effects of a 
 tropical sun," as the degenerate men of modern days are coofested to 
 be - more A the pity ! 
 
 After having steered clear through the dangers and difficulties of 
 wars, battles, captures, and mutinies, we arrive at one which 
 eutuiled a great amount of misery and suffering on the hapless 
 Iblaudcrs— no less than a fearful visit of the Measles, an insatiable 
 and destructive monster who revelled in death, gloated on the agonies 
 of his victims, and battened upon the mass of human corruption 
 strewed at his feet. Yet was it only crime working its own punish- 
 ment. There had been trafficking in flesh and blood at the Ca[)C — 
 a slave ship had touched there— disease was preying u|>on them — 
 corruption and pestilence was doing the work of death. Hot reeking 
 steam distillod from their fever stricken bodies, curled up its hatches 
 in seething clouds, heavy and fetid, spread over the land like the 
 sultry vapours of a Geyser boiling up from unknown depths below — 
 infected the colony— wrought disease and misery among its people — 
 slaves and enslavers died alike from one common cause — crime 
 brought its own punishment — the penalty was death. Merchant 
 vessels, the India fleet, soon brought it to St. Helena. They 
 anchored in the bay, sent their linen on shore, and with it the germs 
 of disease. It soon spread over the Island, and raged fur a time with 
 fearful violence ; whole families were smitten down helpless and 
 prostrate, incapable of administering to each others wants ; they 
 would have perished of starvation had not the generous hand of 
 benevolence been extended for iheir aid. Public offices were closed, 
 shops- shut, the streets deserted, nothing was going on but sickness 
 and death, trade was suspended, and the workshops silent ; few 
 sounds were heard but the splashing of the sea on the slungly beach — 
 the thrilling sound of ccffin makers plying their craft— and the 
 measured tramp of soldiers bearing the dead to their now unremem- 
 bered graves. There are times when the most apathetic rouse from 
 their lethargy, when the timid become bold and brave dangers, from 
 which they would have shrunk with horror under other circumstances. 
 1'hc hour of need and trial works a great change in the disposition of 
 men— charity is wrung irom the most flinty hearts, and benevolence 
 appears where it was never known before — common danger levels 
 distinction — rich and poor unite to avert calamity, when all are liable 
 to its afflicting stroke and know not who may be the first to sutler. 
 
 Such were the eiiecis wrought at St. Helena during the height of 
 the infection ; fui.ds were raised by subscription, and persons found 
 to manage them, to administer to the wants of the sick and dyintf ; 
 to rescue the iielpless from the horrors of starvation, and soothe the 
 last hours of the stricken and afflicted, with tho consolation of 
 religion. It was a fearful time — well remembered even now ; many a 
 nameless mound, half choked with grass and weeds, toll where the 
 dead were buried, of death stricken homes, and families sevend 
 never to meet again in this God -made world ; children nipped in the 
 bud, vouth in its prime, men iu their strength and m the evening of 
 life, hurried away in one common calamity — themselves forgotten, 
 yet the cause of their extinction remembered ; but time is pressing, 
 drop the curtain, and let it rise to another, and a diflercnt scene. 
 
40 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
 
 General Beatson arrived from Endand in the year 180^, as the 
 Governor of the Island, and immediately set about fulfilling the 
 nialtifarious duties of his office, and others which he imposed upon 
 himself, as he thought for the j-jint benefit of the company and the 
 coramiiuity. He wished to be a reformer on a larp-e scale, and was 
 exceedingly zealous in attempting to develop the latent resources of 
 the Island. He was a great schemer, his head was full of new 
 fangled plans and crotchets. The fertility of his imagination is 
 abundantly proved by. the number of schemes he introduced and 
 tried. That he was of the sang;i:ao temperament is obvious from the 
 enthusiastic efforts he made to Burniount self created difficulties of 
 every shade and character. He tried scheme after scheme, and as 
 soon as one failed, he was prepared with another, ripe and ready for 
 execution. He dug for gold where none was to be found, mined 
 for silver where none existed, and yet very gravely conforted himself 
 on the failure of his ill-starred efforts by the reflection, that if he had 
 dug deeper they would certainly have been discovered. He showed 
 as plain as the sun at noon day, how a large revenue might be derived, 
 by burning weeds for alkali — capital tan was to be got from all sorts 
 and kinds of trees — he burnt his weeds, and peeled his trees in vain — 
 his figures might be facts— but his revenues mere fiction. He was to 
 grow barley, make malt, import hops, and brew beer ; but nobody 
 would drink it, although the Islanders had " liberty to indulge as 
 they pleased in wholesome beer at sevenpence per quart" — they 
 preferred grog, and the beer would'nt go down at any price ; perhaps 
 because it was not wholesome I 
 
 He complained, and on just grounds, that the people did not wish 
 for any change, and cared nothing for improvement. They combined 
 to keep up prices for their own produce, and demanded unreasonably 
 enough that the Company should supply them as usual with imported 
 provisions under prime cost. As upwards of three thousand hungry 
 sinners were fed, and indeed lived by this strange system, there is 
 nothing wonderful in their not liking to work for themselves ; it was 
 an abuse which ultimately corrected itself. 
 
 Sometimes the governor was growing mangel wurzel, then anon he 
 flew to the cultivation of Madagascar yams, but as he was fond of 
 change, he turned to turnips and potatoes, wheat and barley, beer, 
 and alkali, salt pans and tan pits, tried his hands at everything, and 
 then sat down to write a big book, to prove how easy it was to scheme 
 and difficult to succeed ; there were many attempts but few results. One 
 day we find him inculcating the blessings of peace and the beauties 
 of benevolence, the next he is all agog on the hills, rolling rocks into 
 the vallies, experimenting on schemes for the destruction of his fellow 
 creatures. But, lo I on his return from one of these wonderful exploits 
 he saw a hand writing on the wall, like Pharaoh of old — '' a hot 
 dinner, and a bloody supper.^* He looked around for a second Daniel 
 to interpret, but his astonished eyes fell upon — " This house to he let 
 on Christtnas dai/,'^ scribbled on the gates of the castle. 
 
 While he was planning all kind of improvements tor his soldiers, 
 they were busy plotting to bundle him ofl'the Island. He was to have 
 been seized on Christmas day, and put on board a vessel in the port ; 
 but the conspirators reckoned without their host. 
 
OP THE ISLAND ST. HELENA. 41 
 
 It all arose about eating an^i drinking:— grog and rice -ibr he had 
 stopped their tippling, and the winds had played them the nine 
 srurvy trick with the rice, by bcinjr in a contrary humour, and keep- 
 ing the store ships away from the Island. 
 
 The soldiers naut.nied, some of them inidjfed to Longwoofl to seize 
 a few field piece<» kept there, to aid ihera in laying seige to Plantation 
 House whore the governur had ensconsed himself. The night was 
 dark, and a cunninK fellow who had previously had charge of the 
 guns, contrived to spike them uU. unknown to the valiant mutineers. 
 They advanced towards Plantation Jltiusc, but were stopped on the way 
 — a parley ensued — their courage failed it was useless to fight with 
 spiked guns, and so they surrendered, dreaming of mercy and for- 
 giveness. The next step was of course a court martial, a trial, and 
 the execution of six of the ringleaders, who were strung up all in a 
 row on High Knoll ; the next day another was led to a gallows, and 
 turned off with "great solemnity/' to the doleful music of the dead 
 march, and so the mutiny was brought to an end. 
 
 Beatson was cool, firm, and active, throughout the affair ; but it 
 would never have happened had he paid more attention to practicable 
 plans, and less to experim«"ntal schemes of his own concoction. How- 
 ever, he was on the whole a serviceable governor, and did some good 
 both for the Company who employed, and the people who lived under 
 him. He reduced useless expenditure, economised the public money, 
 raised many useful buildings, and left a good name behind. Yet 
 half his schemes were unmitigated failures. 
 
 But my journey has nearly reached its close, and my ** travail" its 
 end. I must let many mailers slumber in the quiet repose of oblivion, 
 they cannot grace my graceless sheets for want of spare ; but to pre- 
 vent useless rejirets on this dolorous occasion, be it known, that the 
 said matters are as uninteresting as they are unimportant. 
 
 The Islan lers were principally occupied in discussing the merits 
 and advantages of planting, of killing the wild goats to prevent them 
 destroying their young trees, as well as in considering the advantages 
 of putting an end to the free ramblmg of sheep over all parts of the 
 country— importing Chinese labourers — altering the laws relative to 
 leases, and other matters more useful to the Islanders than interesting 
 to the weary and impatient readers of this discursive history. How- 
 ever, a change came at last, and broke quite unexpectedly upon the 
 dull routine of their monotonous duties, gave something to talk about, 
 and plunged them into a pertecl chaos of wonder and bewilderment. 
 
 The Icaurus sloop of war came in one day '* with all her canvas 
 set," to announce the m^st extraordinary budget of news that had 
 ever opened upon the greedy ears of the astonished inhabitants— the 
 battle of Waterloo— surrender of Pans— fall of Naj)oleon— termina- 
 tion of the continental war — and above all, the startling and scarcely 
 credible intelligence, that Napoleon himself was actually on his way 
 to the Island, ex, led and a prisoner. Never was a greater interest 
 felt in the winds, never was their variations more anxiously watched, 
 and never before did signal-men so strain their eyes in sweeping the 
 horizon for the first glimpse of an expected sail. It hove in sight at 
 last, the loth October, 1815, a day for ever memorable in the annals 
 of St. Helena. 
 
42 A SKETCH OP THE HISTORY 
 
 It was the Northumherland, and had Napoleon and his suite on 
 board, besides Admiral Cockbum. His arrival occasioned great 
 changes, the governor was withdrawn, and a new one (Sir Hudson 
 Lowe) appointed in his stead, who was responsible for the ex-emperor's 
 security. 
 
 The rest is well known ; Napoleon went to Longwood ; lived, or 
 rather existed there for a few years, hoping to while away the time 
 by drawing on the " recollections of the past." Disease came upon 
 him, the stron.a- man was prostrate, the great one fallen ; life ebbed 
 away, and finally ran dry on the 5th of May, 1821 ; on the 9th he 
 was buried with military honors. In July Sir Hudson Lowe retired, 
 and was succeeded in his military command by a Brigadier General 
 •rejoicing in the grim cogn men of Coffin. 
 
 The kings troops were soon afterwards withdrawn, the guard ahips 
 returned home, and the Islanders settled down once more to their 
 usual monotonous pursuits, and recommenced with renewed ardour, 
 their favorite but futile amusement of proposing and discussing all 
 kind of imaginary improvements, from the manufacture of "free 
 peasantry" out of black slaves, down to the invention of "a tread 
 wheel," for the especial entertainment of the idle and disorderly. 
 
 In the year 183t), another startling event disturbed the quiet repose 
 of the inhabitants — the surrender of the Island by the East India 
 Company into the hands of the Crown, which led to an entirely new 
 system of things ; tiie civil servants were pensioned otF, and the troops 
 disbanded without having permission granted to volunteer, either for 
 India or for the King's regiments, a great hardship both to men and 
 officers. The latter received pensions, but many of the luckless men 
 entered in the British Legion, went fighting for Isabella Segunda, 
 and got more kicks than halfpence, many perishing, and but liew 
 returning to tell the dismal story of their adventures. 
 
 After a repose of nineteen years, the remains of Napoleon were 
 taken to Paris by Prince de Johiville, in the frigate La Belle Poule, 
 for re-interment beneath the dome of the Invahdes; they were ex- 
 humed on the 15th October 1840, and on the Ibth of the same month 
 bid adieu to St. Helena for ever, leaving there the remembrance of 
 his exile and death, his ruined home and deserted tomb. 
 
 There is now nothing further to reco.d. The history of three 
 centuries and a half have been compressed into a few pages. There 
 i3 little that is interesting, and less that is instructi\e in the annals of 
 this lonely Islet, unless gleaned from the episode of Napoleon, and 
 that is, after all, but a s.ale rebuke to the " vanity of human wishes," 
 and an oft read theme on the "instability of human grandeur." 
 
 Oh, reader 1 whomsoever thou art, and from whithersoever thou 
 comest, listen to the voice of truth, and learn to thine infinite edifica- 
 tion, that the sinuous stream of this grave and delectable history has 
 run babbling on from its spring head in 1602, till arrested in the full 
 swing of its course by the hand of time, on the vigil of Christmas, 
 in the year of our Lord 18 ;0. 
 
 J. L. 
 
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 BERKELEY 
 
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