clusters upon its lower declivities, looking out from dense greenery
and tropical gardens, and the deep shade of palms and bananas, the
lines of many of its streets traced in foliage, all contrasting with
the scorched red soil and barren crags which were its universal aspect
before we acquired it in 1843. A forest of masts above the town betoken
its commercial importance, and "P. and O." and Messageries Maritimes
steamers, ships of war of all nations, low-hulled, big-masted clippers,
store and hospital ships, and a great fishing fleet lay at anchor in
the harbor. The English and Romish cathedrals, the Episcopal Palace,
with St. Paul's College, great high blocks of commercial buildings,
huge sugar factories, great barracks in terraces, battery above
battery, Government House, and massive stone wharves, came rapidly into
view, and over all, its rich folds spreading out fully on the breeze,
floated the English flag.

But dense volumes of smoke rolling and eddying, and covering with their
black folds the lower slopes and the town itself made a surprising
spectacle, and even as we anchored came off the rapid tolling of bells,
the roll of drums, and the murmur of a "city at unrest." No one met me.
A few Chinese boats came off, and then a steam launch with the M. M.
agent in an obvious flurry. I asked him how to get ashore, and he
replied, "It's no use going ashore, the town's half burned, and burning
still; there's not a bed at any hotel for love or money, and we are
going to make up beds here." However, through the politeness of the
mail agent, I did go ashore in the launch, but we had to climb through
and over at least eight tiers of boats, crammed with refugees, mainly
women and children, and piled up with all sorts of household goods,
whole and broken, which had been thrown into them promiscuously to save
them. "The palace of the English bishop," they said, was still
untouched; so, escaping from an indescribable hubbub, I got into a