After passing a ruined estate, where the long grass grew upon the walls of a roofless building, once used as a boiling house, and accomplishing a steep descent, and one or two abrupt turnings in the road, we came to a cluster of houses, known by the title of “the hamlet.” Many of these rural dwellings are very neatly built of native stone; and their little gardens appear to be well stocked with the country produce, such as potatoes, peas, eddoes, arrowroot, &c. A short distance from the hamlet is another similar collection of dwellings, bearing the name of “the village of Liberta,” (as a painted board informed us,) and equally abundant in its bright green patches of edibles. The emancipation of the negroes, and their desire to possess a portion of the soil in perpetuity, gave rise to these villages, of which there are many in different parts of the island. Here they erect small houses, and plant ground provisions. Some of these little dwellings are very neatly constructed, being raised a little distance from the ground, and the front door graced with a flight of steps and a small portico, while the open windows are furnished with white curtains. Adjoining the “village of Liberta,” lies the Moravian settlement of Grace Hill, snugly ensconced in its leafy fence, and, like other settlements of the kind in this island, breathing an air of happy tranquillity. Leaving Grace Hill, and travelling on some distance, we arrived at an estate called Patterson’s, belonging to the Hon. John Athill, and celebrated in Antiguan history, as being the spot where the murder of the governor’s child was perpetrated, (already narrated in the legend of Ding a Ding Nook,) on the occasion of the abduction of his lady in 1640. The “great house” upon this estate was honoured by a visit from our late lamented monarch, William IV., who in 1798 passed a night there. We here once again came within sight of the sea, which greatly added to the attractions of the scene, while on our left hand rose Monk’s Hill, surmounted by its fortifications, and strewed in some parts with ruined Carib’s houses. Passing through the town of Falmouth, we gained a kind of marsh, dotted over with clumps of aquatic shrubs, and here and there opening to the sea, and in a few moments entered the village of “English Harbour.” The market is just at its entrance, and consisted, upon the day we visited it, of about ten or twelve persons, squatting on the ground, and having before them shallow wooden trays, containing a few country vegetables, a miserable-looking chicken or two, a few strings of strong-scented fish, a store of sun-burnt bread, and other similar luxuries!