PROPOSED FLOATING BREAKWATER.

THE different floating breakwaters which have been proposed, since they only sink in the water a certain distance, 15 or 20 feet, will not I consider stop the action of high waves, as the undulation will pass under the floating body as it does under a vessel at sea.

This has led me to consider how such a breakwater might be brought almost in contact with the bottom, and I propose to effect it by forming a strong framework of fir, anchored by stout chains attached to moorings or Mitchell's screws.

The specific gravity of fir timber would keep the frame in smooth water nearly perpendicular, and in a gale it would lean over; but as the sea must break upon it, even if it passed over it, the wave would be sufficiently lulled to give almost smooth water behind it.

The annexed sketch, Fig. 1 and 2, will be sufficient to explain the proposed plan.

Each frame to be 100 feet in length, and in height five-fourths of the depth of water at high tide, say 60 to 80 feet. The number of these frames will depend on the shelter required. They would not be brought into contact, which would I consider, be an advantage since an accident to one would not affect the others. But if connection were found advisable this might be effected by a pliable substance, as choir rope, and the same loaded with weights might be attached to the bottom of

the frame, if the ground from rocks, &c., did not allow the frame to come sufficiently near to the bottom.

The beam of a vessel of war being about 50 feet, if one anchor enables her to ride with her masts, &c., two should be ample for a frame work of 100 feet, particularly if a space of one-third or one-fourth is left between the timber Fig. 3 to allow a passage for a portion of the water. Indeed, under circumstances, one mooring with two chains would probably be quite sufficient for each frame.

The timber might be protected from the worm by Mr. Payne's invention, and if the frame lost its buoyancy, as by an accumulation of weeds, &c., it might be restored by placing a buoy or hollow iron cylinder at d, in the section Fig. 2.

By a rough calculation I consider the experiment might be tried with one frame, for £700.

I need not contrast the expense of such a work with the millions proposed for each harbour of refuge, by the commissioners appointed some years ago to report on the south-east coast.

This also could scarcely cause any accumulation of deposit, which in any stone work to be erected is always to be found, and if it did not answer in one situation it could be removed to another.

45, Pall Mall, Feb. 2, 1843.

J. W. PRINGLE,

Captain Royal Engineers.

NAUTICAL RAMBLES.-THE LEEWARD STATION DURING THE WAR. Port Royal and its Associations.

(Continued from p. 100.)

THE names of the harbours, bays, and other inlets of this island have been greatly altered since we gained possession of it about 187 years ago; not only have most of the Spanish names been superceded by English, but these also, in some cases, have been exchanged. In an old map of the island, I find Montego Bay written "Montica," and sixty or seventy years ago it was called "Mondego." Had there been an isolated, or, conspicuous mountain, we might with some degree of probability have considered that it had been originally named "Monte Jago," as the Spaniards were fond of bestowing the names of their saints to the lands they discovered. In the same old map I find Lucea termed "St. Lucy," which is altogether English, (Lucia, in Spanish.)

The inhabitants of these two places never use the word "town," to the collection of houses which constitutes one, but invariably substitute the hydrographical term "bay." If you ask any person, whether white or black, who may be descending from the mountains to either place, Where he is going? he will answer, "To the bay;" that is, to Montego bay, or, to Lucea bay, as the case may be; but never to the "town of either one or the other. This mode of designation seems to be peculiar to these two places along the coast. The houses of these towns, and, indeed, throughout the island, are principally constructed with

wood; some, however, have the basement of stone; but there are few entirely built of that material. The windows are jalousied, by which contrivance the air is admitted freely, or, excluded, at the option of the inmates of the house, with the slightest effort of the hand. When the blind is placed in a horizontal position, external objects can be readily viewed from within a room; and there is, generally, a telescope poised between two of the vanes of the blind, for the purpose of more minute observation. The jalousie is a large sort of Venetian blind which is simply and ingeniously contrived to assume a vertical or horizontal position at pleasure. Some of the dwellings, which are situated on elevated land, exposed to the norths, are provided with a few glass windows; but the majority are without them.

The rooms in the generality of houses are all upon one floor, which is often raised from the ground; but there are a very few which have the bed-rooms upon a second story. The floors, whether of mahogany or other wood, are neatly polished; the operation is performed by the young negresses, with roasted Seville oranges, (locally called "bitter and sweet,") and bees'-wax, early in the morning, under the superintendance of an old domestic matron, whom the girls call " granny." The old dame keeps up strict discipline among the youthful fry, and exercises a complete control over her maidens. The beds, generally of feathers, which is extraordinary in so warm a clime, are furnished with fine gauze curtains, termed "Musquito-nets," as they are designed to keep out the tormenting insect-fly of that name, without excluding the air, if any should be in motion; which, indeed, is seldom the case.

There is no possibility of excluding the musquito from the bed-rooms; but, centipedes and scorpions-equally as offensive as the former-from the extreme care and cleanliness observed, seldom intrude, in the more respectable dwellings; where, however, the floors are laid close to the ground, these, and other insects, and even reptiles will occasionally obtrude. If the four heels of the bed-posts were each placed in a bowl half filled with oil, the smaller crawling insects would be effectually excluded from entering the beds.

It appeared to me that the houses of the French West India isles were much cooler than those of Jamaica, from having the floors laid with flat dead tiles, i.e. not glazed or polished; and both that nation and the Spaniards use more stone in the construction of their dwellings than the English do in this part of the world. I do not know whether the same law existed here as in our North American possessions, which compelled the earlier settlers to build their houses of wood, in order to clear the forests. The probability is, there was such a law. But there is another reason assigned for the general adoption of wood; that of the fabric being less liable to be thrown down or deranged by the shocks of earthquake than buildings constructed entirely of stone. One circumstance having some connection with the universal application of wood in the construction of dwellings has always appeared to me as extraordinary; and which, notwithstanding the immense quantities of spirituous liquor manufactured in the islands annually, is a strong proof of the temperance of the inhabitants. I allude to the infrequency of towns or dwellings being destroyed by fire. When we consider that there is no organized police, and no regulations in force with respect to

the use of fire, or, of lighted candles, we may pronounce it as remarkable that accidents from that element do not oftener occur.

The houses of the independent part of the community, whether in town or country, are detached; and generally surrounded by a plot of ground, ornamented with handsome fruit trees, and beautiful flowering shrubs, which give to these villas a very picturesque appearance; and almost all, even the negro cottages, have a poultry-yard attached. Nature has certainly been prodigal of her favors here, with respect to the vegetable creation; nothing like an unsightly or ugly tree or shrub, being met with; indeed they are all in some way or other agreeable objects to the eye; and some are remarkably graceful in the disposition of their foliage,-such as the palm tribe, the tree ferns, the acacias, &c. Cleanliness is a virtue, particularly necessary in a warm climate, and certainly it is in every particular most scrupulously regarded here. Nothing, indeed, can exceed the care with which this duty is attended. The observance has become habitual, and hence it is one of the circumstances which first strikes a stranger on his landing; and certainly affords a favorable impression of the people. There is, too, a degree of neatness and simplicity every where observable in the interior of the dwellings that is admirable; their rooms are not crowded with furniture, or, loaded with ornaments; there is enough and nothing more. At the same time there is an inviting air of comfort pervading the whole, that is really very agreeable to the feelings. As if, too, in keeping with every thing around, there is a good deal of what the French term "bon hommie "about the inmates of the dwellings, whether white, brown, or black, that always at once disarms reserve, and makes one feel at home in their presence; and among the females there is a gentleness and feminine modesty, a soft voice, and an agreeable langour, superinduced by the warmth of the clime, that make them very attractive.

Many delightful hours I have passed in the society of some of the most captivating nymphs of the north side, which I now remember as among the most happy of my existence. Having conducted a prize into Lucea, when I was detained many weeks, I had plenty of leisure to look about me, and to enjoy the kind hospitality of my amiable friends there, and in its vicinity. Changes have, indeed, since "come over the land," and circumstances as I knew them, have been materially altered; the delightful society which once flourished there is known no more; the white face has shrunk back, and almost faded from the sight, and the brown has usurped its place; and it is by no means an improbable event, yet in embryo, that the latter in its turn will yield precedence to the black! I recollect to have heard an old resident,

formerly an officer of the army, predict many years ago, that Lucea would, in the fulness of time, become a "nankeen town," (occupied by coloured people); his words have been nearly verified. Many of the ladies who were, in my day, but mere girls, just arrived from England after having completed their education, and others who had been instructed in the island, have since become mothers, and even granddames, and most of these have passed away from life altogether! A new era has arisen. The state of social society has been completely altered, unconnected, and altogether separate from those changes which time in its unceasing flight brings about,-the sun of Liberty has

spread over the entire area of its dazzling rays,--may the glorious event prove a blessing to all! But, however bright the prospect may be at this time from that circumstance, it cannot chase the thoughts away from the happy past. The ladies alluded to, were all charming as girls-pretty, and some handsome;-nay, two or three were assuredly beautiful. Of these, the Rose and the Lily, of the Forest, and of Prosper Penn, were most lovely! Both gentle in the extreme, and in truth almost too perfect for such a rough world as this,-no fairer works in God's creation have my eyes ever beheld than these two angelic nymphs; they have lived throughout life in the fondness of my memory,-they were both Elizas: could I be young and not love them? Not alone for their unrivalled beauty, but for the purity of their innocent souls, and the warmth and chasteness of their unsophisticated hearts. These

"Friendships that now in death are hushed,

Affection's token chain;

And hopes that Fate too quickly crushed,
In Memory live again."

There is, indeed, somewhat of melancholy in the revival, but it is softened by the balm of that pleasure which once was.

The town of Montego is situated close to the beach of the bay, in a valley which is bounded to the westward by Great River; to the east and south-east the land is hilly, with mountains rising in the back ground. The town itself is irregularly built, like most of the others in the island; in the centre there is a large open area, where the markets are held,—a plan which should be adopted in all tropical towns. In the immediate vicinity there are many pleasant villas where the characteristic hospitality of the inhabitants is exercised in the most unreserved manner, claiming at once the admiration and gratitude of the stranger; more especially the naval man, whose uniform is a passport for him of admittance into the best society here. I have been hopitably entertained at the Retirement, by the worthy owner Sir Simon Clerk, Bart.; at Pitfour, by my old school-fellow John Hay; and many others in the town. It may be truly said that in no part of the world, is the intercourse among each class, in its proper sphere, more unrestrained, and the social qualities of the heart more universally exercised, than in this beautiful island. A stranger who has been accustomed to the exclusive forms, and cold restrained manners of the Mother country, is quite astonished at the general and unbounded practice of hospitality followed by the inhabitants; alike by those who are not, as those who are natives. It would seem, indeed, as if the very air, balmy and soft, imparted to the heart of man, dwellers in this favoured land, those warm feelings of disinterested benevolence, and genuine kindness, which are so much an honor to his nature. And most certainly the considerate attention bestowed upon dependents, on those who are placed by the will of Providence in the class of domestic servants, here, cannot be exceeded in any other part of the British empire, assuredly not in England; yet, those of whom I speak, are the people upon whom unqualified abuse was heaped by the pamphleteers and popularity-hunters of the great modern "Babylon."

The bay as an anchorage, cannot strictly be considered a good one; it lies open to the norths, which often blow powerfully from November ENLARGED SERIES.-NO. 4.-VOL. FOR 1843.

2 I