Two Years in the French West Indies | Page 6

of endearing words, to
purchase bay rum, fruits, Florida water.... We go ashore in boats. The
water of the harbor has a slightly fetid odor.

VIII.
Viewed from the bay, under the green shadow of the hills overlooking
it, Frederiksted has the appearance of a beautiful Spanish town, with its
Romanesque piazzas, churches, many arched buildings peeping through
breaks in a line of mahogany, bread- fruit, mango, tamarind, and palm
trees,--an irregular mass of at least fifty different tints, from a fiery
emerald to a sombre bluish-green. But on entering the streets the
illusion of beauty passes: you find yourself in a crumbling, decaying
town, with buildings only two stories high. The lower part, of arched
Spanish design, is usually of lava rock or of brick, painted a light,
warm yellow; the upper stories are most commonly left unpainted, and
are rudely constructed of light timber. There are many heavy arcades
and courts opening on the streets with large archways. Lava blocks
have been used in paving as well as in building; and more than one of
the narrow streets, as it slopes up the hill through the great light, is seen
to cut its way through craggy masses of volcanic stone.
But all the buildings look dilapidated; the stucco and paint is falling or
peeling everywhere; there are fissures in the walls, crumbling façades,
tumbling roofs. The first stories, built with solidity worthy of an
earthquake region, seem extravagantly heavy by contrast with the frail
wooden superstructures. One reason may be that the city was burned
and sacked during a negro revolt in 1878;--the Spanish basements
resisted the fire well, and it was found necessary to rebuild only the

second stories of the buildings; but the work was done cheaply and
flimsily, not massively and enduringly, as by the first colonial builders.
There is great wealth of verdure. Cabbage and cocoa palms overlook all
the streets, bending above almost every structure, whether hut or public
building;--everywhere you see the splitted green of banana leaves. In
the court-yards you may occasionally catch sight of some splendid
palm with silver-gray stem so barred as to look jointed, like the body of
an annelid.
In the market-place--a broad paved square, crossed by two rows of
tamarind-trees, and bounded on one side by a Spanish piazza--you can
study a spectacle of savage picturesqueness. There are no benches, no
stalls, no booths; the dealers stand, sit, or squat upon the ground under
the sun, or upon the steps of the neighboring arcade. Their wares are
piled up at their feet, for the most part. Some few have little tables, but
as a rule the eatables are simply laid on the dusty ground or heaped
upon the steps of the piazza--reddish-yellow mangoes, that look like
great apples squeezed out of shape, bunches of bananas, pyramids of
bright- green cocoanuts, immense golden-green oranges, and various
other fruits and vegetables totally unfamiliar to Northern eyes.... It is no
use to ask questions--the black dealers speak no dialect comprehensible
outside of the Antilles: it is a negro-English that sounds like some
African tongue,--a rolling current of vowels and consonants, pouring so
rapidly that the inexperienced ear cannot detach one intelligible word,
A friendly white coming up enabled me to learn one phrase: "Massa,
youwancocknerfoobuy?" (Master, do you want to buy a cocoanut?)
The market is quite crowded,--full of bright color under the tremendous
noon light. Buyers and dealers are generally black; --very few yellow
or brown people are visible in the gathering. The greater number
present are women; they are very simply, almost savagely,
garbed--only a skirt or petticoat, over which is worn a sort of calico
short dress, which scarcely descends two inches below the hips, and is
confined about the waist with a belt or a string. The skirt bells out like
the skirt of a dancer, leaving the feet and bare legs well exposed; and
the head is covered with a white handkerchief, twisted so as to look like

a turban. Multitudes of these barelegged black women are walking past
us,--carrying bundles or baskets upon their heads, and smoking very
long cigars.
They are generally short and thick-set, and walk with surprising
erectness, and with long, firm steps, carrying the bosom well forward.
Their limbs are strong and finely rounded. Whether walking or
standing, their poise is admirable,--might be called graceful, were it not
for the absence of real grace of form in such compact, powerful little
figures. All wear brightly colored cottonade stuffs, and the general
effect of the costume in a large gathering is very agreeable, the
dominant hues being pink, white, and blue. Half the women are
smoking. All chatter loudly, speaking their English jargon with a pitch
of voice totally unlike the English timbre: it sometimes sounds as if
they were trying