General Sir R Plunkettdown-Hardd

Officer Commanding

The Royal Artillery

Woolwich Arsenal

Sir: Before HMS Bermuda sets sail for London on the 21st instance, I hasten to get this report to you written of my journey to the City of Hamilton in these parts, with respect of the inspection of our mobile gun carriers and general carriages, as required by the local government at the Transportation Command-and-Control Department, now erecting new premises on the southern shore of the Pembroke Marsh.

As in my previous Reports, I take the liberty of sending you some images of the place, so that you may have pictures to refer to when perusing my Report: both, I further hasten to add, are of the finest quality, as taught at the school of your Command, but of course enhanced by my considerable competency as an artist and writer.

To get our carriages to the inspection centre from the camp at St George’s Island, we have to deal with the tiresome crossing by the ‘horse-barge’ at Ferry Reach, for there is no bridge connecting that Island with the Main, though I hear that a causeway is proposed via Longbird Island, but, with respect, things take time in the colonies.

Once across the Ferry, we proceeded apace around the northern side of Harrington Sound and soon approached the bridge at Flatts Inlet, where we had to wait a period, as the operator had left it in the up position, being required to stop work while having morning tea.

The Flatts is a most tranquil village of sorts and on this day, I stopped to record a group of men repairing a small Bermuda sloop of the workboat variety, with its snub bow so distinctive in these waters.

Fish, recently extracted from a thatched pot (in the shape of a heart) wait for a lady to take them to market, once she finishes a somewhat strident monologue to the chap sitting on a log.

In the distance is a large new building, said to become a hostelry in the near future.

From the Flatts we drove on over the bright limestone-pebbled North Shore Road, reaching the “TCD” (as we call it for short) at 11.15 in the forenoon, but alas the facility was closed for an extended lunch.

That gave me the opportunity to sketch the environs nearby, which have the most idyllic character, though the marsh and wetlands, with the transient wildfowl, are much reduced in size, due to the local habit of people “taking de trash to de pond”.

No doubt future antiquarians will be delighted with their finds, if they dig up the marsh by that new scientific method of enquiry called ‘Archaeology’!

In due course, the doors of TCD opened and the inspection of our carriages commenced with the usual alacrity we have come to know.

Unfortunately, I have to report that all of our vehicles failed their tests, for some reason or another, but mainly for scratches in the paintwork, dents in the wheel rims and overly-worn brake shoes, all matters incurred in the recent continental war, but which we would not have thought worthy of over-repair for inspection.

That being so, I left the men to get on with fixing the matters and resubmitting the carriages to the inspectors and set off to capture a couple more scenes for your edification on the character of Bermuda.

Thinking you might appreciate an overview of Hamilton and its commodious harbour, I visited my local colleague, the surgeon Mr Peckatit, at his spacious home high on the hill of Trimingham, as it affords the best vantage of the capital town.

The result I lay before you, with humility, as one of my finer images of Bermuda.

On the right foreground is a lovely old home destined to become a yacht club, while in the background I have faithfully sketched the buildings of the town and trust their layout will be of interest to future architectural historians, as well as your Lordship.

On my way back to TCD, the hour of afternoon tea-break approaching, I tarried at the top of Burnaby Hill to give you a sense of the development of Hamilton.

Unfortunately, in that part of town, the ‘developers’, as the local builders like to call themselves, ran into a bit of bother, as the rock is extremely hard and quite resists removal, except by blasting, and your CO here has refused to relinquish some gunpowder to them for that explosive end.

In the distance is Hunt’s [White’s: Ed.] Island, with Mr Tuzo’s building in the foreground, with the staircase that the town corporation refused permission for him to build: he built it anyway, which apparently is a habit hereabouts.

An orderly has just appeared to say that the carriages have all been passed by TCD, but upon retrieval of the vehicles several kegs of gunpowder seem to have gone walkabout. I packed my paints and canvasses and set off forthwith to dissect the matter and will update you in my next report.

Before I sign off on the present report to your Lordship, I see we must welcome one of my great-great-grandsons to Bermuda.

Peter Savage and his wife, Rosemary, are here at the invitation of the National Museum and I hope that they enjoy the place and its splendid people as much as I did, back in 1833—36.

What a wonderful island it is, captured so well, I have to write, in my terrific series of paintings and sketches, now at the Museum, donated by three of my descendants, including Peter.

I remain, Your most obedient servant, etc, etc.

Johnson Savage MD, Surgeon

The Royal Artillery

St George’s, Bermuda

Anno Domini MDCCCXXXV

Edward Cecil Harris, MBE, JP, PHD, FSA is Director of the National Museum. Comments may be made to director@nmb.bm or 704-5480.