The Continental Monthly, Vol. 4, No. 4, October, 1863: Devoted to Literature and National PolicyVarious
History
The Continental Monthly, Vol. 4, No. 4, October, 1863: Devoted to Literature and National Policy
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Periodicals
But on descending to the plains, where there is less moisture, and where
vegetation therefore is scantier, we find the unwonted forms of growth
more distinct, and have the full sense of being in a southern land. Here
the thorn palms, the cactus hedges, the penguin fences, resembling huge
pineapple plants, and various trees and shrubs, being seen more
isolated, make a stronger impression of the peculiarities of tropical
forms. Here too we meet in greater abundance with the cocoanut tree,
occasionally forming long avenues of lofty palms on the estates. And
here we see more frequently the huge squares of many acres, heavy with
the luxuriant wealth of the cane, and thronged by dusky laborers. The
heat, which in the uplands is pleasant, though rather too steady in the
plains, becomes oppressive and enervating. The distinction between the
wet and dry seasons, also, is much more distinctly marked, and, in
short, everything corresponds more fully with the usual idea of a
tropical land.
The luxuriance and the glory of nature are the same now as ever; but
everywhere over the island the traveller sees the melancholy evidences
of the decay of former wealth. You may travel over miles and miles on
the plains once rich with the cane, or ridge after ridge in the uplands
once covered with the dark-green coffee plantations, which now are
almost a wilderness. To quote the language of another, 'ridges,
overgrown with guava bushes, mark the cornfields; rank vegetation fills
the courtyard, and even bursts through the once hospitable roof. A curse
seems to have fallen upon the land, as if this generation were atoning
for the sins of the past. For while we lament the ruin of the present
proprietors, we cannot forget the unrequited toil which in times gone by
created the wealth they have lost; nor that hapless race, the original
owners of the soil, whose fate darkens the saddest page in history.'
A passing traveller will see little to compensate the sadness occasioned
by old magnificence thus in ruins, strewing the whole island with its
melancholy wrecks. What there is to set off against it, we shall
consider hereafter.
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