Once upon a time, there was a little fort named Matthew.
It was named after a French Lieutenant Governor who no one had ever heard of and was put in a place where no one ever really fought.
But of all the little forts in Grenada, it has the grandest and strangest story of all.
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Matthew spent its childhood in the 1700s as just another French fort with an identity crisis. In the age of the great West India Co. and when European fortunes could be made or broken in the business of Atlantic shipping, the fertile land that surrounded Matthew was a coveted prize. Both the French and the British wanted a piece of Grenada and each took their turn defending Matthew’s battlements from each other.
Then in 1880, Matthew went insane. Literally.
Frederick was just up the street to keep watch and defend, so Matthew was transformed into the country’s mental hospital.
Those poor souls with a touch of Tourettes or a bit of bipolar disorder were helped back to health within Matthew’s walls. I wish I knew more about these experiences, but the unwritten stories seem to have disappeared into the unknown.
Then the Americans accidentally dropped a bomb on Matthew in 1983. The confusion is understandable considering Frederick (the communist coup stronghold) was just next door. However, their “oopsie” cost 19 people their lives.
Today, the crumbling ceilings and decrepit cells are home to a small weekend drinking establishment.
And that, my friends, is the story of Matthew.
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