HISTORICAL. 37 
perpendicularly from the sea, when viewed from the roadstead where 
the mail packet anchors, seem to frown fiercely at the new arrival 
and, without any doubt, are most forbidding. The little town appears 
oddly enough placed m a deep-cut ravine in this mighty wall of rock 
No verdure, a few Peepul trees excepted, meets the eye to relieve 
the tedious monotony of dust-coloured rocks and dust-coloured 
houses. Nevertheless, there is something that strikes the beholder 
as picturesque in what lies before him. On either side of the town 
the hills bristle with cannon ; on the left is Munden’s Battery ■ on 
•the right is Ladder Hill, the chief fortress of the place, where a 
small garrison, consisting of a company of Artillery and one of 
Engineers, is quartered, and where waves the British Union Jack, 
so dwindled down in size through the spirit of economy as to call 
from visitors the universal inquiry, “ What flag is that?” To the 
left of Munden’s is Rupert’s Valley, where a recently formed village 
appears, and where stands the deserted establishment for the recep- 
tion ol Africans rescued from slavery by British cruisers on the West 
Coast of Africa. On landing, the stranger is beset by a whole rabble 
of dirty boys, each eager to get possession of his order to find him a 
horse or carriage to visit Napoleon’s tomb, to conduct him to an 
hotel, or in some way to make something out of him. Horses there 
are plenty of, and even carriages can be found for a trip to the tomb 
and back at the moderate charge of two or three pounds ! But hotel 
accommodation is wretched, unless a new one has been established 
and has not had time to fall into the degraded “wine and beer shop” 
condition of its predecessors. Fair board and lodging can, however 
be obtained privately either in the town or country at the moderate 
rate of 0-s\ daily for each person. The town is entered by a fine open 
quadrangle or parade, around which stand the church, court-house 
castle, and other Government buildings. A long and wide street 
stretches up the valley, with houses on each side, amongst which are 
the foreign Consulates, private dwellings of no ordinary pretensions 
and shops. The latter supply almost every class of European goods at 
about 30 to 75 per cent, higher than English prices, but the shops 
themselves have a dusty, neglected, and uninviting look, as though the 
articles exposed in the windows had been there since the days of Noah 
The arrival of a mail steamer or man-of-war throws the whole place 
from the Governor downwards, into a state of excitement; but still 
there remains something of the every-day look of dejection about it 
