resting places had been provided at intervals,
where the soldiers could recover breath or shelter themselves from the
tropical cataracts of rain which fall without notice, as if the string
had been pulled of some celestial shower bath. The trees branched
thickly over it, making an impenetrable shade, till we emerged on the
plateau at the top, where we were on comparatively level ground, with
the harbour immediately at our feet. The situation had been chosen by
the French when St. Lucia was theirs. The general's house, now Mr.
Laborde's residence, is a long airy building with a deep colonnade, the
drawing and dining rooms occupying the entire breadth of the ground
floor, with doors and windows on both sides for coolness and air. The
western front overlooked the sea. Behind were wooded hills, green
valleys, a mountain range in the background, and the Pitons blue in the
distance. As we were before our time, Mr. Laborde walked me out to see
the old barracks, magazines, and water tanks. They looked neglected and
dilapidated, the signs of decay being partly hid by the creepers with
which the walls were overgrown. The soldiers' quarters were occupied for
the time by a resident gentleman, who attended to the essential repairs
and prevented the snakes from taking possession as they were inclined to
do. I forget how many of the fer de lance sort he told me he had killed
in the rooms since he had lived in them.

In the war time we had maintained a large establishment in St. Lucia;
with what consequences to the health of the troops I could not clearly
make out. One informant told me that they had died like flies of yellow
fever, and that the fields adjoining were as full of bodies as the
Brompton cemetery; another that yellow fever had never been known there
or any dangerous disorder; and that if we wanted a sanitary station this
was the spot for it. Many thousands of pounds will have to be spent
there before the troops can return; but that is our way with the
colonies--to change our minds every ten years, to do and undo, and do
again, according to parliamentary humours, while John Bull pays the bill
patiently for his own irresolution.

The fortress, once very strong, is now in ruins, but, I suppose, will be
repaired and rearmed unless we are to trust to the Yankees, who are
supposed to have established a _Pax Dei_ in these waters and will permit
no aggressive action there either by us or against us. We walked round
the walls; we