ature and art combined. It could be shelled now over the spit from the
open sea. It might be destroyed, but even so could not easily be taken.

I do not know that I have ever seen any scene more interesting than that
which broke upon my eyes as we rounded the point, and the lagoon opened
out before me. Kingston, which we had passed half an hour, before, lay
six miles off at the head of the bay, now inside the sand, ridge, blue
and hazy in the distance. At the back were the mountains. The mist had
melted off, standing in shadowy grey masses with the sun rising behind
them. Immediately in front were the dockyards, forts, and towers of Port
Royal, with the guardship, gunboats, and tenders, with street and
terrace, roof and turret and glistening vane, all clearly and sharply
defined in the exquisite transparency of the air. The associations of
the place no doubt added to the impression. Before the first hut was run
up in Kingston, Port Royal was the rendezvous of all English ships
which, for spoil or commerce, frequented the West Indian seas. Here the
buccaneers sold their plunder and squandered their gains in gambling and
riot. Here in the later century of legitimate wars, whole fleets were
gathered to take in stores, or refit when shattered by engagements. Here
Nelson had been, and Collingwood and Jervis, and all our other naval
heroes. Here prizes were brought in for adjudication, and pirates to be
tried and hanged. In this spot more than in any other, beyond Great
Britain herself, the energy of the Empire once was throbbing. The
'Urgent,' an old two-decker, and three gunboats were all that were now
floating in the once crowded water; the 'Urgent,' no longer equipped for
active service, imperfectly armed, inadequately manned, but still
flaunting the broad white ensign, and as if grandly watching over the
houses which lay behind her. There were batteries at the point, and
batteries on the opposite shore. The morning bugle rang out clear and
inspiriting from the town, and white coats and gold and silver lace
glanced in and out as men and officers were passing to parade. Here, at
any rate, England was still alive.

The channel at the entrance is a mile in width. The lagoon (the open
part of it) may be seven or eight miles long and half as many broad. It
forms the mouth of the Cobre river, one of the largest in Jamaica, on
which, ten miles up, stands the original seat of government established
by the Spaniards, and called af