Dignity balls are still held in Barbados; they are rather trying to
one of the senses. In the "eighties" it was a point of honour amongst
"Bims" to wear on all and every occasion a high black silk hat. During
our enforced quarantine we saw a number of white Bims sailing little
yachts about the roadstead, every single man of them crowned with a
high silk hat, about the most uncomfortable head-gear imaginable for
sailing in. Another agreeable home-touch was to hear the negro boatmen
all talking to each other in English. Their speech may not have been
melodious, but it fell pleasantly enough on ears accustomed for so
long to hear nothing but Spanish. From my intimate acquaintance with
Marryat, even the jargon of the negro boatmen struck me with a
delightful sense of familiarity, as did the very place-names, Needham
Point and Carlisle Bay. I was fated not to see Barbados again for
twenty-two years.

In the early part of the eighteenth century a French missionary, one
Father Labat, visited Barbados and gave the most glowing account of it
to his countrymen. According to him the island was brimful of wealth,
and the jewellers' and silversmiths' shops in Bridgetown rivalled
those of Paris. I should be inclined to question Father Labat's strict
veracity. This worthy priest declared that the planters lived in
sumptuous houses, superbly furnished, that their dinners lasted four
hours, and their tables were crowded with gold and silver plate. The
statement as to the length of the planters' dinners is probably an
accurate one, for I myself have been the recipient of Barbadian
hospitality, and had never before even imagined such an endless
procession of fish, flesh, and fowl, not to mention turtle,
land-crabs, and pepper-pot. West Indian negresses seem to have a
natural gift for cooking, though their _cuisine_ is a very highly
spiced and full-flavoured one.