Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Date Published: 
Sailing Sunny Seas


Between the mountains and hotel, lay the famed Savanna, a curious center, where fashion, cow pasturage, a race track for horses, a grand stand, a foot ball field, and a small cemetery, all play their part. Every afternoon from four to six, the smart people of Port-of-Spain's 60,000 inhabitants, drove about the Savanna, dressed in their best attire. Always the peaceful-eyed cows wandered over its ample precincts, and grazed upon its rich grass (at one shilling a head per month, to benefit the City Treasury). On certain days great races filled the grandstand with the lovers of that sport, and on the Saturday afternoon following our arrival a football contest between the Protestant and Roman Catholic teams, made the Savanna a scene of such noisy festivity that wads of cotton were necessary to save ear drums from injury. I have heard the cheers of twenty-thousand people at great Yale-Harvard games at Yale Field, New Haven, but never such a din and furor of noise as cannonaded the air on the Savanna at Port of Spain, Trinidad.