a trip to 'Wareka', 1896
This is an interesting article which gives some informative descriptions of Waireka in the 1890s; it also includes some amusing examples of the ways in which information can become garbled, especially when passed on orally. I particularly like "S. Bute's Folly" - I hope to find, sometime, somewhere, a reference to "Espeut's Folly" - to some extent Peter A Espeut's whole life was a "folly"!
This is an interesting article which gives some informative descriptions of Waireka in the 1890s; it also includes some amusing examples of the ways in which information can become garbled, especially when passed on orally. I particularly like "S. Bute's Folly" - I hope to find, sometime, somewhere, a reference to "Espeut's Folly" - to some extent Peter A Espeut's whole life was a "folly"!
Daily Gleaner, April 14, 1896
ON THE TRACK OF THE ARAWAKS: THE WAREKA SHELL MOUNDS. (NO. I ) One does not as a rule, expect to find marine shells on the mountain tops any more that it is usual to look for strawberries on the sea beach. To some persons therefore, an invitation which I received the other day would have sounded a rather a strange proposition. It came from Mr. J. E. Duerden the Curator of the Museum and suggested that I might accompany him on an expedition with the object of exploring a shell mound at Wareka (or Weireka) on one of the heights of the Long Mountains to the East of Kingston. But the series of interesting articles that have lately appeared in the GLEANER from the penn of Mr. Duerden gave me a clue. I conjectured, correctly as it turned out, that the shell mound had some connection with the Arawaks, the aborigines of Jamaica, who had left behind them tangible proofs of their existence in the shape of collection of empty shells &c. These have since been discovered, chiefly on eminences near the coast, and several have been recently investigated by Mr. Duerden. The invitation was accordingly accepted with pleasure, soon after 6 a.m. on Saturday morning Mr. Duerden and the writer were bowling in a bus along the Rockfort Road. A glance at the big basket which accompanied us would at once have brought home conviction to the mind of the observer that we knew our business and had made adequate provision for satisfying the prospective cravings of the INNER MAN. When you are out for the day in the country it is well to consider details beforehand and the commissariat department is a detail that one cannot afford to ignore. Nor was it on the present occasion. As we proceeded we were met by a stream of country women going to market some leading well fed and carefully groomed donkeys while others carried huge burdens upon their heads which, however, seemed in no way to incommode them or interfere with their swift and swinging stride. From one of these women we increased our supply of edibles by the addition of a number of luscious oranges. After travelling a little over a mile from Brown's Town [in eastern Kingston] our driver pulled up at the road side where an opening was observed. This we were told the commencement of the path leading to Wareka which is situated on the top of the mountain that towered in with PRECIPITOUS SIDES covered with bush and tropical vegetation, 1,400 feet above us. No sign of house or path could be seen looking up from the main road and we secured the services of an individual who, for a consideration, agreed to guide us to the top carrying the all important basket before referred to and lend a hand in the digging operations Mr. Duerdon purposed conducting. The sky was overcast with clouds, but so long as this did not spell rain it was rather a matter for congratulation. For mountain climbing under the burning rays of a tropical sun is not the most refreshing experience possible. The path winds up the side of the mountain ZIG ZAG FASHION and the turnings some fourteen in number, are very sharp. To persons troubled with corns I should not recommend the ascent on foot at any rate. The lower portion is particularly rough but about half way up matters improve. Mr. King (present owner of Wareka), having commenced the construction of a driving path. Good progress has already been made and as we walked up we found men busy preparing for an explosion of dynamite cartridge for the purpose of blasting some obstructive rocks. Here and there, at the different corners, we caught glimpses of scenery that acted as an incentive to keep moving and prepared us for the magnificent panorama which is to be seen from the summit. About an hour was occupied in making the ascent and, speaking for myself, I was glad of a chance to "take a seat." Mr. King's brother received us most hospitably and we lost no time in carrying out his invitation to "make yourselves at home." The house stands on the edge of a plateau of about an acre in extent which has been cleared of bush and planted with orange trees, &c. It is a well built roomy residence and apart from the difficulties of approach which Mr. King is doing his best to remedy, it makes an IDEAL COUNTRY RETREAT. It was built, so I was told, by Mr. S. Bute half a century ago and the opinion of the general community on the subject may be gathered from the fact that it was known for a long time as "S. Bute's folly," afterwards it was occupied by one of the Commodores who was accustomed to signal to Port Royal and in proof of this statement I was shown a tall flag staff that now lies rotting in the yard. At the same time a story was related to me as to the origin of the curious name by which the place is now known. The Commodore in question when a young man was travelling in Africa and accompanied by his brother-in-law went out into the forest on a shooting expedition. They became separated and the Commodore seeing something moving in a thicket fired and on reaching the spot to pickup his game discovered to his horror that he had shot and killed his relative. This sad incident happened near a native village called Wareka and on coming to Jamaica he gave that name to his residence. Personally I should not have cared to be constantly reminded of such a terrible event - but then I am not a Commodore. I was further informed that this Commodore, or one of his successors, was buried "somewhere about the place" and that the wife of acting Governor Rushworth also died there but was interred at Halfway Tree. There may be other interesting facts known about the house but they were not my immediate object. The climate at Wareka is delightfully cool and affords a charming change from the dust and heat of Kingston. Along the railings of the verandah runs a remarkably fine stephanotis covered with blossom and the sweet perfume was a delightful ingredient like the distant music at the play in our enjoyment of THE MAGNIFICENT PANORAMA that lay at our feet. Gazing southward far away, losing itself in the distant horizon, is the, open sea while to the east the coastline can be traced with Port Henderson, nestling underneath the craggy cliffs and the mountains behind. No better vantage point can be found for observing the peculiar configuration of the Palisadoes - Kingston's great natural breakwater - so narrow in some places that only a yard or two of sand seems to separate the two waters and in others notably near the Lighthouse, the dark green mangrove swamps, and intervening lagoons appear to cover several acres at the farthest extremety [sic] Port Royal with the white Urgent at her moorings stand out prominently; save for a few ripples the water in the harbour lies calm and motionless and on its placid bosom the innumerable small craft look like so many sea birds disporting themselves; as we gaze the little launch Firefly is observed steaming towards Kingston leaving in its wake a wedge-like track such as a swiftly swimming water fowl makes on the glassey surface of an inland lake. Sweeping the coast line, to the west and almost at our feet, as it were, is the slip dock of the Atlas Co. at Muckamoor Pen, then comes various wharfs and piers and the rigging and masts of the larger vessels show above whit seems to be one undulating roof that marks the position of the business portion of the city. It is not easy to pick out particular buildings because few at a distance have any architectural individuality. The two most prominent structures are the asylum and the prison. The brown dusty road along which we had travelled from Kingston may be traced like a river in flood, but still retaining its bounds, with numerous villa residences dotted along the line of route. A good idea may also be gathered of the manner in which the suburbs are extending in all directions and particularly northward. As reluctantly we are about turning away from these delightful scenes the sun bursts through the edge of one of the clouds and, streaming down as from the lens of a powerful search light, irradiates the harbour waters with a silvery splendour and produces some wonderful effects of light and shade that would have made the world wide reputation of any artist capable of faithfully transferring them to his canvas. But tempes [sic] fugit and I am reminded that however grand and entrancing the present prospect is, the object of our excursion is, if possible, to find out something with reference to the tribe of Arawaks that 400 or 500 years ago and before the visit of Columbus to our shores selected the self same spot on which we stand as their home and place of residence. |