Cortland Evening Standard, Thursday, May 24, 1900.
IN A SOUTHERN CLIME.
THROUGH THE WEST INDIES TO SOUTH AMERICA.
Another Letter from H. G. Joy—Life on the Steamer—Italian Baby Royally Received--Ashore at St. Lucia—Corporal Punishment Administered to a Guide—Diving for Pennies— Stories of Sailors.
We are permitted to publish parts of another personal letter from Mr. H. G. Joy, who is on a summer trip to South America, to his son in Cortland. It is as follows:
MONDAY NIGHT, April 23.
DEAR GRAY—When I came on deck Friday morning I found we were anchored in the roadstead off the village of St. Kitts, island of St. Christopher. There was a soft, pleasant breeze blowing out from the island, the water around us was rippling softly, and the sun was just high enough to shoot his rays over the lowest part of the island and brighten the sails of some fishing boats that were scattered over the water a mile away. They were early negroes seeking to catch the early fish with the early worm. The town was asleep at the edge of the water, and behind it rose the long cultivated slopes of sugar land. Even volcanic Mount Misery, which was in eruption in 1880, and which is said to be 4,000 feet above sea level, is set with sugar cane two-thirds of its height. The houses were dropped here and there, big and little, indiscriminately among the palms.
I could not help paraphrasing Little Bethlehem; "O, little town of St. Kitts, how white and still you lie beneath the warm Southern sky!" Freight has to be lightered from ship to shore at all the Windward islands except St. Lucia. We were anchored off at least three-quarters of a mile. Between six and seven the village woke up and the inhabitants streamed up and down the beach. The naked children playing on the beach and the half naked women diving in the surf looked for all the world just like those the Spaniards found doing the same things four hundred years ago. I assure you, however, they really are not the same. They seem to think that a fine black or brown skin is as good as a suit of clothes, and they do not worry over the fit, set or hang of it. Soon after six two lighters, full of negroes, came out for the freight. The derricks were set going to hoist it out of the hold and lower it over the side. The St. Kitts negroes looked clean, but as if they might be very poor. They were all barefooted, and never before have I seen clothes so patched as theirs were. One lusty fellow's jumper was patched until it would vie in brilliancy with a German officer's uniform.
St. Kitts has been longer in the possession of the British than any other island in the West Indies. It is also one of the prettiest, and a larger per cent of its acreage is in productive cultivation. Its exports are sugar and molasses, with some rum. It is claimed that monkeys are yet quite numerous in some parts of the island, although the natives consider them a great delicacy.
From here on we were nearly always in sight of some island. We sighted Antigua early the same day and coasted its shores until 1 o'clock, when we anchored for two hours in the roadstead, 2 miles off the town, waiting for the slow-moving blacks to come out after two boxes.
Antigua is one of the most important of the Windward islands. It differs from the others in that the highest mountains are near the coast line and not inland, and the soil is more retentive. It has many beautiful bays and inlets from the sea, navigable by sailing craft. The town, the valley behind it, and the cone-like mountains were bathed in warm, shimmering sunlight, and soft breezes blew over us as the steamer swung at anchor with the blue water fretting gently about her prow.
This was really the "red-letter day" of the voyage. A poor Italian woman in the steerage gave birth to a boy the first night out from New York. Yesterday the ladies all became very sociable with each other, hunted their baggage through, made tongues and needles rattle to such good purpose that by mid- afternoon Friday that baby was rigged out with more finery than he would otherwise have possessed in five years. He was brought up on deck and given the freedom of the ship. It was not presented in a silver box with a golden key, as they did these things in olden times, but all was his just the same. Everything in petticoats was his devoted slave, and every masculine nose but his was decidedly out of joint. He was passed from hand to hand—among the ladies of course. He was "so cute," "just too lovely,'' "bright as a new diaper pin," ''a perfect little angel"—an Italian angel from the slums to be sure; but voyagers at sea must take what they can get. At dinner he was brought to the saloon on a cushion and placed in the center of the captain's table to be toasted—not on a fork. No cannibals on this ship. All drank the baby's health in whatever fluid, taste or conscience dictated, and hoped that life's pathway might stretch long and smooth before his tender feet, and that he might at last win safely through the gates of paradise. The Italian angel's eyes blinked a good deal, and at times his little mouth puckered and quivered suspiciously, but he bore his part manfully and wisely refrained from making any remarks himself. He was returned to his mother and, unmindful of the honor that had been paid him, in two minutes was nursing and clawing at his mother's breast with the ferocity of a little animal that had been without food for twenty-four hours. All in all, it was a great day for the ladies—and the baby.
At 4 o'clock Sunday I looked out at the port hole of my room and through the misty morning light saw that we were coasting the shore of Martinique, one of the largest and best islands in the Windward group. It and the island of Guadeloupe belong to France. The white citizens are pretty much all French, and the natives speak only that language. The two chief towns are Fort de France and St. Pierre, and they are not far apart. The streets of Fort de France are paved with Belgian blocks and through each street runs a stream of clear water. Although the mountains behind the town are quite bold they are cultivated to the top. This is the island on which the beautiful Josephine, Creole empress and consort of Napoleon the First, was born and reared. Napoleon, I believe, was born on the island of Corsica in the Mediterranean. See how far apart and how insignificant the islands upon which these two were born that were destined by mysterious fate to come together, and arouse the world as it has never been aroused before or since.
Like all these West India islands its chief production is sugar, although it produces coffee also. As we passed the mouth of the wide curving bay upon which the two towns above named are situated, a big French steamer was turning into it. The negro riots that were raging a short time ago on this island came to a sudden ending when the colored men made a rush on a squad of soldiers. A volley from the squad dropped twenty-five of the rioters. The remainder fled, and did not get together again. The blacks greatly outnumber the whites on all the islands, from five to eight negroes to one white person on most of them, and at Barbados the proportion is twelve to one. This makes the whites quite uneasy at any symptoms of turbulence that develop. There are very strict rules regarding the importation of firearms, and tourists sometimes are compelled to pay a customs duty of $10 on a revolver. It is feared the blacks will secrete arms. On none of the islands could the whites successfully resist the negroes if they were well organized.
Sunday afternoon we ran into the bay at St. Lucia and anchored. It is a landlocked body of water and deep enough for steamships to lie at the wharves and discharge cargo. As it is also quite centrally located it is a good coaling place for all vessels passing within two or three hundred miles. The quantity of coal kept on hand there is too great to house, and it is stacked in solid squares of seventy-five feet to each face. The squares are terraced up, three and four terraces in height, making the top of each square about as high as a two story house. Lumps of coal are laid up like a stone wall around each terra to keep the coal in place. When a steamer is coaled they commence on top and work down. The coal is brought from Wales—a long trip across the water. It is all carried ashore and on to the highest terraces in bushel baskets on the heads of negro men and Hindoo women, and back again to the holds of the steamers the same way. This is a slow, laborious way of handling it, but time and colored labor are of little value on these islands. To the black man or woman there is always another day coming, and what is unfinished to-day will be left over to start the morrow with. They are like the old-time Southern plantation darkies, more intent on getting all the fun and frolic possible out of the present than glooming over what to-morrow has in store for them. Chaff, laughter and song are ever on their lips; of tears or laments I have seen nothing. The condition of the negroes in the islands is pitiful and, at the rate Hindoos, Japanese and Chinese are being introduced, it will be worse yet; therefore, in the colored man's light-hearted, happy-go-lucky disposition we see the Lord tempering the wind to the shorn lamb.
A Spanish ship was moored at the wharf, waiting to coal on Monday, and during the afternoon a French ship came in, discharged passengers and steamed away. The harbor is encircled by high hills, verdure clad. The steep slopes are dotted with houses, many of them half hidden by foliage. From out in the bay where we were anchored some of them looked like toy houses that might be hung out in the morning and taken in again at night. The residence of the governor crowns one of the highest cones to the right near the entrance, and from his flagstaff the English flag fluttered. Through the captain's glass I could see two men smoking and taking their ease on the shaded wind-swept piazzas, while at one corner stood a young palm, looking just as the English lion's tail would look if the Boers should shave it, leaving a tuft at the end, and stick the butt end in the ground. All in all, the bay and the hills and houses round about it make one of the prettiest pictures to be found among the islands. As this is the only deep water and landlocked harbor among the Leeward and Windward islands, the only one where steamers can coal without the use of transports or lighters, Johnny Bull, with his usual good sense and foresight, is erecting more extensive barracks here with a view to making it a more important military and naval station. They already have a torpedo cache dug into one of the hills, and on one side of the entrance is already quartered a company of Tommy Atkinsons and on the other side a company of native blacks.
At present St. Lucia is rather more prosperous than the other English islands, and there are several other villages upon it besides the one in St. Lucia bay. The English have been in possession of the island 100 years. During the hundred and fifty years prior to that France and England waged a ceaseless warfare for its possession and it changed hands times innumerable. The hills about the bay have often echoed with the roar of French and British broadsides that made the ships red and the splinters fly and shrouded the blue water with smoke.
I was out before 6 o'clock Monday morning to see if any of the toy-looking houses had become detached from the face of the hills during the night and rolled down into the water. I found the vessel made fast to the wharf and that the derricks were rapidly swinging freight out of the hold. The Hindoo women, in skirts reaching to just below the knee, and barefooted and barelegged, were climbing up and down gang-planks to and from the summit of one of the coal squares. The shoveler helped them raise the baskets to their heads, then with hands on hips, and backs and necks as straight as gate posts they descended and dumped the coal into the bowels of the Spanish steamer. The work was yet going on when we left at half-past four in the afternoon.
I intended to go ashore immediately after breakfast, but some ladies asked me to wait and see a darkey boy dive for pennies. They said they had one promised, and he was waiting for them then at the stern. Thither we went, and the ladies were surprised to find their boy had blossomed out into four. Each one vociferously maintained that he was the original nigger they had left there. So a penny was tossed into the water, and the four boys plumped after it like big frogs. They are fully as much at home in the water as frogs. Twelve coins were thrown in and they got everyone before it reached bottom, starting from the wharf for each coin after it struck the water. The only garments worn by three of them were doubtful excuses for pantaloons; the other one had only a shirt, which over much diving after pennies had caused to shrink until its length was not up to the standard of polite society. At the last dive the shirt ripped on both sides from tail to armpits. As the boys came to the surface a black policeman, with a big white helmet and whose dark blue cloth uniform was ablaze with yellow tape, came strolling along. The boys clambered quickly to the wharf and went off as if sent for in a hurry. The boy with the shirt was last out and the cop grabbed him by the shirt, but that long-suffering garment came away in his hands, leaving the young nig [sic] in the costume invented by Father Adam, minus the fig leaf. The ladies each gave a stifled little scream and put their hands to their faces. The policeman pursued in a half-hearted way. He felt that it was beneath his dignity to run. The boy did not share the officer's scruples, and soon had him distanced.
"Red Fez," (the Hindoo merchant) and I went ashore together. In a few minutes we had a bodyguard of six boys, each clamoring to show us round. I told them we did not want them. "Go! Go!" They wouldn't go, so we strode on a little further in silence, ignoring the darkeys. We looked like a comet with a black tail. I was first, behind me came the Hindoo, behind him the six blacks in single file. The streets were full of black and copper-colored men, women and children. When I paused on a corner undecided which way to go, our bodyguard, and dozens of others, at once rallied round us, and jabbered in an unintelligible patois, half French and half Negro. Then our bodyguard scuffled and scrapped along behind us for the honor of our possession until only one remained. As we could not discourage him, I asked him questions about the trees and town. He spoke English well and knew all about the town; also the value of each English coin I had with me, and just how much change I was entitled to at each purchase I made. Throughout all the islands English silver and gold is the standard.
After I recognized him as guide he proudly preceded me instead of following. His pantaloons hung perilously by one suspender button at the back, and his shirt was the worse for the scraps it had participated in behind me. He was a most exuberant youth, and with prancing about, and an occasional tussle with some boy we met, I was in constant fear lest that perilous suspender button should give way and he and his trousers part company. I admonished him to be more quiet and keep nearer. Somewhere in our wanderings he had come into possession of a leather strap. Missing him, and looking around, I saw him on the opposite side belaboring a respectable looking colored woman on the back with a strap. Visions of trouble on his account, perhaps a summons before a police court, rose before me and my patience gave way entirely. I yelled for him in a voice that startled the street, and when within reach grabbed him and applied the strap over his shoulders until the tears came into his eyes. I would have given him more had not fear for that perilous suspender button deterred me. No boy could be better than he was thereafter. That's what was the matter with him. His mother had inadvertently omitted his daily beating that morning and no doubt the poor fellow had been suffering grievously for the want of it.
I got back to the steamer at 1 o'clock, in time for lunch. I gave my chaperon an English shilling (25c)—more money, he said, than he had ever had at once before. He took off his hat and bowed, stood on his head with a whoop that sent that sorely-tried suspender button flying overboard, and seizing the waist of his trousers with one hand dashed ashore holding the shilling aloft in the other.
On comparing notes, I found that all the others parties had several times taken refuge in stores from would-be guides, and one party of ladies returned with three niggers on their pay roll. They had taken two of them on to prevent their licking the chaperon first employed.
We found more town than seemed possible in viewing it from the bay. There were six well built-up streets one way and ten running the other way. They are straight and at right angles. None of the sidewalks are very wide, and many of them are quite narrow. They looked to me like concrete and were surprisingly good and smooth. More people walk in the street than on the sidewalks. The business buildings are usually of two low stories. There is little on the outside to distinguish one place from another. No effort is made to display goods, to brighten up a store or to attract customers in any way. No hotel people ever appear when a steamer comes in. People live and business is carried on just as it was 100 years ago. Water runs through all the streets, and women do the street cleaning and look after the public grounds. Women are numerous in all the stores as clerks. Of course here somewhere there is a ruling class of white men and women, but they are not visible to the eye of the transient. All the people I saw were black, or had the taint of black blood in varying degrees in their veins. These black people are not as a rule provident, and they are not wise managers. They cannot abide patient, persistent effort, and have not the white man's ambition to "get on" in the world and cannot grip and hold fast the opportunities that come their way.
While there is neither aggressive nor progressive business spirit, there is to a sightseer an interesting panorama in the streets. The streets present an ever varying picture of movement and color. The life of the middle and poorer classes is all out of doors. The women were all barefooted and bare-legged. They averaged better in appearance than the males, looked neater. They carry themselves very erect and have a firm, steady movement, the direct result of bearing loads balanced on their heads from childhood. Those that were in the streets on household errands wore skirts to the knees; those shopping or on dress parade usually had skirts reaching nearly to the feet. White was the prevailing color, but there were many shades of yellow, orange and light blue. The goods were airy, fluttery and clean looking. Some there were, however, who looked the veriest drabs and slatterns that ever trailed a petticoat. To see dainty skirts, snow white petticoats, many trimmed with ruffles and lace, fluttering about the big, splay feet and flat, brown ankles of those people was strange, to say the least. Notwithstanding their open-air life and exercise, there are none with the round ankle and swell to the calf like the American woman. In passing any point not over-clean, they gathered up their skirts with as solicitous an air as any lady. This seemed a useless precaution, as their bare legs were moist, enough to retain a big share of the dust and dirt blown against them. The gay hats and turbans on the heads of such of them as bore no baskets or bundles were marvels of construction and color. They observe no rules of the road, but thread in and out helter skelter. This "in-and-out" movement, with their noisy "chaff" and chatter and vitality of greeting, give an appearance of life and activity that would be wanting in our streets when thronged with twice the number of people. Yet they were only strenuously busy doing nothing.
To-day we sighted four whales, and the sailors forward were fishing for sharks, but had only the fun of fishing. Of course these things produced whale and shark talk.. If a bull whale is attacked while accompanied by a cow whale the female never leaves him, but stays by him until killed herself. The affection thus displayed by the cow is not reciprocated by the male, for he runs away like a great coward if she is struck first. The shark being the swiftest fish that swims is a great gadabout. He roams far and wide in the ocean, visiting the shores of all of them in his restless excursions. The above information was given me by a sailor and may not be true. I find they like to talk, but prefer to follow their own lead rather than answer questions. Here is a story of one of the men, whom I had been quizzing, [who] amused himself by telling to me and a companion: ''I was on a British vessel where a rat was caught and thrown from the trap into the water alive to drawn. A large gull that was following the ship to pick up scraps swooped several times to pick up the rat. At last the bird got too close to the rat's jaws and the beast grabbed it by the neck. After a short fight the rat killed the bird. The rat then scrambled upon the gull's back, and hoisting one wing for a sail and using the other for a rudder, steered away for shore, which was 200 miles distant."
As the man finished this story he gave me a wink, as if to say he did not expect me to believe it; oh no! It is for the benefit of the "guy" on the other side. I mistrust that with the other eye he gave a bigger wink to the other fellow. The sailor stories of my boyhood, such as the ghostly "Flying Dutchman," and the "Frozen Pirate" who, after being frozen to death for 800 years, thawed out, jolly, infinitely profane, and delighted to find his appetite for rum unimpaired, must be true. They were related by sailor men who sailed with a sail, and who frequently "hitched" up their trousers and had big quids of black plug. But these steam sailor men who chew fine cut and wear suspenders, like a landsman! Bah! Of course this applies only to the common sailor. The officers of steamships, they have more and better charts and study them to more purpose. They carry more passengers and cargo in one voyage than the sailing packet carried in ten years; the responsibilities and anxieties of captains are correspondingly greater. Perhaps they do not know as much about the winds, because they are no longer such important factors in commerce. They are men of character, full of grit and resource, of hope, perseverance and fortitude, and the fires of courage and heroism burn high and clear in their hearts in times of danger and disaster.
Good bye, my dear son, HARLEM G. JOY.
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