Walking Back ... in theDays of Cayman Past

The 19th Century House

Back in the olden days, long before mechanicaltools were invented, men were tougher than they are today. Theyfelled trees to build whatever it was they wanted. They livedand worked purely by instinct; whatever they needed they simplycreated.
Picture if you will, a man building a house big enough to raisea family of 12 to 14 without the aid of a single piece of mechanicaltool such as the builders of today know. With just an axe, hatchetand a machete, large trees were felled and squared up to suitwhatever purpose he had in mind.

Back then it was not likely that a young man would get marriedbefore 30. When the hand of a young lady was asked in marriageand the parents' consent was granted, it could be anything likefive years or more before the wedding day actually came around.

An ambitious man always sought to have his own house first beforehaving a family. According to an old saying: "A dog's houseof one's own is far better than another man's palace."

Owning a house was always thought of as the greatest task of alifetime. In those early times, houses were built entirely ofwood. Hardwood was plentiful throughout Grand Cayman as well asthe sister islands. Mahogany and iron-wood trees were everywhere,and they lasted several lifetimes without rotting or being eatenby dry worms.

Unlike today, houses back then were framed from wood. Those whowere better off and could have afforded it, imported lumber. Suchhouses can still be seen today in the three islands. For the simplepeasant, however, it was wattle and mud with thatch as the roofing.Nevertheless, these little houses were classic-looking with theirwell-kept white walls, which the old folks took great pride inmaintaining.
At least twice a year they were white-washed, and about everyfive years or so, the roofing was renewed. Houses were built towithstand the many storms that blew across the land in those days;moreso in those areas where people had taken to building as closeto the sea as possible.

One of the most onerous tasks in building back then was framingthe house, particularly when one had to do it on one's own. Fellingthe tree, then squaring and carrying those huge lengths of mahoganyon one's shoulder over terrain that was riddled with cliffs andswamps was a task that would never be attempted by today's men.

Money was hard to come by in those days; few families could haveafforded the better things in life. Those who managed to get workin the USA, never set foot again on the Islands, but rather stayedon where the grass was greener.

It can be said without prejudice that it is to those who remainedat home and struggled through the hard times that we today oughtto be grateful and lift our hats; it is they who laid the foundationon which we are building the new Cayman of today. Though the fathersof yore made their living off fishing and farming, yet still theywere able to rear large families and to bring up their childrento be honest, respectable and God-faring citizens.

Homes were established in some of those humble shacks that farsurpass what we see in many of the fabulous and expensive structuresof today. So much so that it can be truly said that blocks andshingles do not build a home. Love is the ingredient on whicha home flourishes, no matter the circumstances.

Here in brief is a story of my hero - my beloved grandfather,Robert Simpson Jackson. "I was a bit luckier than many ofmy friends; even my siblings," he would say. "I hadthe privilege of being a noted cook very early in life, so I wasalways in demand on the better-classed schooners that sailed toforeign ports," he said. He'd made several trips to Mobile,Alabama and to Pensacola in Florida, my grand-daddy said.

"We would catch turtles - either on the mosquito banks orsouth of Cuba - and sell them in America. On the return journeywe brought back freight to Cayman from which we always made good.

As a young man, I fell in love with one of the most beautifulgirls I'd ever laid eyes on, but her father hated the very sightof me. I so wanted to show that 'old bugger' that I was more manthan he, that I saved my money to build a nice 19th Century house.
Within a year or so, I was able to pay my brothers, one of whomfancied himself to be a carpenter, to frame the house for me.

Though my forte was cobbling, I also knew a little about masonry,so, in between sailings, I would chip in and help work on thehouse. Before you knew it, the house was finished. Now for mybeautiful girl! I was all ready and anxious to marry her but Istill had to contend with old George Riley, her father, who wasone of the most feared men in the district. The one thing I hadin my favour, though, was that his daughter loved me.

As God would have it, December came and word on the island wasthat Mr. Redpath, the minister, would be making his customarypre-Christmas rounds of East End that week. Sure enough, one ofmy confederates found me the Friday night to tell me that theparson was in the district.

Anxious and excited, as soon as I thought the man was up on Saturdaymorning I went to see him. I told him the truth, and to my greatjoy, he told me to bring the young lady and two witnesses. Asluck would have it, the old man was out fishing that morning.When I arrived at the house Alice, my girl, was busy grating cassava.No sooner had I told her what had transpired than she got up rightaway and washed her hands. She changed her dress and off we wentto our wedding.

After we were pronounced man and wife, back to her Father's housewe went to collect her few belongings. Her mother had long sincedied but there were two other sisters in the house. They, of course,were happy with the arrangement, so off we went to our own house.It was, indeed, the happiest day of my whole life.

Quite early the next morning, who but old George came a callingat my house. He carefully surveyed the layout of the place, huggedme tightly and declared me to be his son. I had achieved my aim- to show the tyrant, as he was seen to be, that I could takecare of his daughter better than he had ever done."

Note: Simpson and Alice were blessed with three sons andthree daughters, all of whom were held in high respect by thosewho knew them.

The Author:

Mr. Percival Jackson, known throughout theCayman Islands as "Will" Jackson, is a born East Ender.He is a man of many experiences: A Home Guard during World WarTwo; A former policeman, a seaman for 22 years who sailed aroundthe world; and a retired businessman.

Mr. Will has been a Justice of the Peace for the past 20 yearsand a Marriage Officer, whose one greatest interest is preachingthe gospel.

He is the author of three books, one which will be published ina few weeks. Obviously, his pastime is in writing of life in theold days of Cayman, and he has written many local articles forthe local media.

The pride of his life is his wife, Miss Sybil Harris of GeorgeTown, whom he married 35 years ago. They are now retired, enjoyinglife together, living in East End, by the Sea.

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