een the nearest approach to a civilized community we
had visited during the cruise, and even there the "long-tailed pig-eyed
Celestial" predominated.

The parade ground is an extensive oblong space running along the strand,
with a ditch dividing it from Strand-street. It has a border of a double
row of fine flowering trees, and must be a delightful place for a stroll
on a summer evening.

The Commercial Exchange and Library rooms are upon it, fronting the
principal street; and back of the Exchange is a rough brick and mortar
pillar to mark the spot where Sir J. Herschell, the astronomer, made his
observations.

Near the parade ground, and facing it, are the barracks, _manned_ at
that time by women, their husbands, the soldiers, having been shipped
off to Kaffir land. By the way; a terrible accident had occurred a few
weeks before our arrival, to her Britannic Majesty's steamer Berkenhead,
employed in transporting troops up the coast, to the war. She struck
upon "Point Danger," and going down almost immediately, four out of
five hundred of those on board were drowned.

I was told that only about eighty men had been left to garrison the
town, and that a panic had lately been gotten up, from fears of a rising
of the colored population. The lazy negroes, whom England, in her
mistaken philanthropy, had liberated, not being compelled to work, chose
to rob and steal.

The Custom-house, an unpretending building, with the letters and
numerals G. IV. R. over its portals, is also on Strand-street, fronting
the "Parade."

Early on the last morning ashore took a walk to the new market on the
outskirts of the town, where the wholesale farmers bring their produce
by teams drawn by from ten to fifteen yoke of oxen. These animals are
the most suitable beasts for draught I have ever seen. With their
long legs they get over the ground nearly as fast as a horse, in a
walk, and, when required, go off in a fine, easy, and not ungraceful
trot. They bring in immense loads, and come a great distance, over
mountainous ways. The wagons they draw resemble those known as the
Conestoga, on many of which noticed a projection astern something
like a poop, serving as a sleeping cabin for the owners and drivers.
In meeting these teams on the road, one at first imagines them to be
a drove of beeves, but is soon undeceived by the crack of the
lash--"long as the maintop-bowline"--striking against the side of a
lagging bullock.

The new market is