The road to the ancient capital of the island is pleasant enough,
and characteristic of the West Indies. Not, indeed, as to its
breadth, make, and material, for they, contrary to the wont of West
India roads, are as good as they would be in England, but on account
of the quaint travellers along it, and the quaint sights which are
to be seen over every hedge. You pass all the races of the island
going to and from town or field-work, or washing clothes in some
clear brook, beside which a solemn Chinaman sits catching for his
dinner strange fishes, known to my learned friend, Dr. Gunther, and
perhaps to one or two other men in Europe; but certainly not to me.
Always somebody or something new and strange is to be seen, for
eight most pleasant miles.
The road runs at first along a low cliff foot, with an ugly Mangrove
swamp, looking just like an alder-bed at home, between you and the
sea; a swamp which it would be worth while to drain by a steam-pump,
and then plant with coconuts or bamboos; for its miasma makes the
southern corner of Port of Spain utterly pestilential. You cross a
railroad, the only one in the island, which goes to a limestone
quarry, and so out along a wide straight road, with negro cottages
right and left, embowered in fruit and flowers. They grow fewer and
finer as you ride on; and soon you are in open country, principally
of large paddocks. These paddocks, like all West Indian ones, are
apt to be ragged with weeds and scrub. But the coarse broad-leaved
grasses seem to keep the mules in good condition enough, at least in
the rainy season. Most of these paddocks have, I believe, been
under cane cultivation at some time or other; and have been thrown
into grass during the period of depression dating from 1845. It has
not been worth while, as yet, to break them up again, though the
profits of sugar-farming are now, or at least ought to be, very
large. But the soil along this line is originally poor and sandy;
and it is far more profitable to break up the rich vegas, or low
alluvial lands, even at the trouble of clearing them of forest. So
these paddocks are left, often with noble trees standing about in
them, putting one in mind--if it were not for the Palmistes and
Bamboos and the crowd of black vultures over an occasional dead
animal--of English parks.
But few English parks have such backgrounds. To the right, the vast
southern flat, with its smoking engine-house chimneys and bright
green cane-pieces, and, beyond all, the black wall of the primeval
forest; and to the left, some half mile off, the steep slopes of the
green northern mountains blazing in the sun, and sending down, every
two or three miles, out of some charming glen, a clear pebbly brook,
each winding through its narrow strip of vega. The vega is usually
a highly cultivated cane-piece, where great lizards sit in the
mouths of their burrows, and watch the passer by with intense
interest. Coolies and Negroes are at work in it: but only a few;
for the strength of the hands is away at the engine-house, making
sugar day and night. There is a piece of cane in act of being cut.
The men are hewing down the giant grass with cutlasses; the women
stripping off the leaves, and then piling the cane in carts drawn by
mules, the leaders of which draw by rope traces two or three times
as long as themselves. You wonder why such a seeming waste of power
is allowed, till you see one of the carts stick fast in a mud-hole,
and discover that even in the West Indies there is a good reason for
everything, and that the Creoles know their own business best. For
the wheelers, being in the slough with the cart, are powerless; but
the leaders, who have scrambled through, are safe on dry land at the
end of their long traces, and haul out their brethren, cart and all,
amid the yells, and I am sorry to say blows, of the black gentlemen
in attendance. But cane cutting is altogether a busy, happy scene.
The heat is awful, and all limbs rain perspiration: yet no one
seems to mind the heat; all look fat and jolly; and they have cause
to do so, for all, at every spare moment, are sucking sugar-cane.
You pull up, and take off your hat to the party. The Negroes shout,
'Marnin', sa!' The Coolies salaam gracefully, hand to forehead.
You return the salaam, hand to heart, which is considered the
correct thing on the part of a superior in rank; whereat the Coolies
look exceedingly pleased; and then the whole party, without visible
reason, burst into shouts of laughter.
The manager rides up, probably under an umbrella, as you are, and a
pleasant and instructive chat follows, wound up, usually, if the
house be not far off, by an invitation to come in and have a light
drink; an invitation which, considering the state of the
thermometer, you will be tempted to accept, especially as you know
that the claret and water will be excellent. And so you dawdle on,
looking at this and that new and odd sight, but most of all feasting
your eyes on the beauty of the northern mountains, till you reach
the gentle rise on which stands, eight miles from Port of Spain, the
little city of San Josef. We should call it, here in England, a
village: still, it is not every village in England which has fought
the Dutch, and earned its right to be called a city by beating some
of the bravest sailors of the seventeenth century. True, there is
not a single shop in it with plate-glass windows: but what matters
that, if its citizens have all that civilised people need, and more,
and will heap what they have on the stranger so hospitably that they
almost pain him by the trouble which they take? True, no carriages
and pairs, with powdered footmen, roll about the streets; and the
most splendid vehicles you are likely to meet are American buggies--
four-wheeled gigs with heads, and aprons through which the reins can
be passed in wet weather. But what matters that, as long as the
buggies keep out sun and rain effectually, and as long as those who
sit in them be real gentlemen, and those who wait for them at home,
whether in the city, or the estates around, be real ladies? As for
the rest--peace, plenty, perpetual summer, time to think and read--
(for there are no daily papers in San Josef)--and what can man want
more on earth? So I thought more than once, as I looked at San
Josef nestling at the mouth of its noble glen, and said to myself,--
If the telegraph cable were but laid down the islands, as it will be
in another year or two, and one could hear a little more swiftly and
loudly the beating of the Great Mother's heart at home, then would
San Josef be about the most delectable spot which I have ever seen
for a cultivated and civilised man to live, and work, and think, and
die in.
San Josef has had, nevertheless, its troubles and excitements more
than once since it defeated the Dutch. Even as late as 1837, it
was, for a few hours, in utter terror and danger from a mutiny of
free black recruits. No one in the island, civil or military, seems
to have been to blame for the mishap. It was altogether owing to
the unwisdom of military authorities at home, who seem to have
fancied that they could transform, by a magical spurt of the pen,
heathen savages into British soldiers.
The whole tragedy--for tragedy it was--is so curious, and so
illustrative of the negro character, and of the effects of the slave
trade, that I shall give it at length, as it stands in that clever
little History of Trinidad, by M. Thomas, which I have quoted more
than once:--
'Donald Stewart, or rather Daaga, {170} was the adopted son of
Madershee, the old and childless king of the tribe called Paupaus, a
race that inhabit a tract of country bordering on that of the
Yarrabas. These races are constantly at war with each other.
'Daaga was just the man whom a savage, warlike, and depredatory
tribe would select for their chieftain, as the African Negroes
choose their leaders with reference to their personal prowess.
Daaga stood six feet six inches without shoes. Although scarcely
muscular in proportion, yet his frame indicated in a singular degree
the union of irresistible strength and activity. His head was
large; his features had all the peculiar traits which distinguish
the Negro in a remarkable degree; his jaw was long, eyes large and
protruded, high cheek-bones, and flat nose; his teeth were large and
regular. He had a singular cast in his eyes, not quite amounting to
that obliquity of the visual organs denominated a squint, but
sufficient to give his features a peculiarly forbidding appearance;-
-his forehead, however, although small in proportion to his enormous
head, was remarkably compact and well formed. The whole head was
disproportioned, having the greater part of the brain behind the
ears; but the greatest peculiarity of this singular being was his
voice. In the course of my life I never heard such sounds uttered
by human organs as those formed by Daaga. In ordinary conversation
he appeared to me to endeavour to soften his voice--it was a deep
tenor; but when a little excited by any passion (and this savage was
the child of passion) his voice sounded like the low growl of a
lion, but when much excited it could be compared to nothing so aptly
as the notes of a gigantic brazen trumpet.
'I repeatedly questioned this man respecting the religion of his
tribe. The result of his answers led me to infer that the Paupaus
believed in the existence of a future state; that they have a
confused notion of several powers, good and evil, but these are
ruled by one supreme being called Holloloo. This account of the
religion of Daaga was confirmed by the military chaplain who
attended him in his last moments. He also informed me that he
believed in predestination;--at least he said that Holloloo, he
knew, had ordained that he should come to white man's country and be
shot.
'Daaga, having made a successful predatory expedition into the
country of the Yarrabas, returned with a number of prisoners of that
nation. These he, as usual, took, bound and guarded, towards the
coast to sell to the Portuguese. The interpreter, his countryman,
called these Portuguese white gentlemen. The white gentlemen proved
themselves more than a match for the black gentlemen; and the whole
transaction between the Portuguese and Paupaus does credit to all
concerned in this gentlemanly traffic in human flesh.
'Daaga sold his prisoners; and under pretence of paying him, he and
his Paupau guards were enticed on board a Portuguese vessel;--they
were treacherously overpowered by the Christians, who bound them
beside their late prisoners, and the vessel sailed over "the great
salt water."
'This transaction caused in the breast of the savage a deep hatred
against all white men--a hatred so intense that he frequently,
during and subsequent to the mutiny, declared he would eat the first
white man he killed; yet this cannibal was made to swear allegiance
to our Sovereign on the Holy Evangelists, and was then called a
British soldier.
'On the voyage the vessel on board which Daaga had been entrapped
was captured by the British. He could not comprehend that his new
captors liberated him: he had been over reached and trepanned by
one set of white men, and he naturally looked on his second captors
as more successful rivals in the human, or rather inhuman, Guinea
trade; therefore this event lessened not his hatred for white men in
the abstract.
'I was informed by several of the Africans who came with him that
when, during the voyage, they upbraided Daaga with being the cause
of their capture, he pacified them by promising that when they
should arrive in white man's country, he would repay their perfidy
by attacking them in the night. He further promised that if the
Paupaus and the Yarrabas would follow him, he would fight his way
back to Guinea. This account was fully corroborated by many of the
mutineers, especially those who were shot with Daaga: they all said
the revolt never would have happened but for Donald Stewart, as he
was called by the officers; but Africans who were not of his tribe
called him Longa-longa, on account of his height.
'Such was this extraordinary man, who led the mutiny I am about to
relate.
'A quantity of captured Africans having been brought hither from the
islands of Grenada and Dominica, they were most imprudently induced
to enlist as recruits in the 1st West India Regiment. True it is,
we have been told they did this voluntarily: but, it may be asked,
if they had any will in the matter, how could they understand the
duties to be imposed on them by becoming soldiers, or how comprehend
the nature of an oath of allegiance? without which they could not,
legally speaking, be considered as soldiers. I attended the whole
of the trials of these men, and well know how difficult it was to
make them comprehend any idea which was at all new to them by means
of the best interpreters procurable.
'It has been said that by making those captured Negroes soldiers, a
service was rendered them: this I doubt. Formerly it was most true
that a soldier in a black regiment was better off than a slave; but
certainly a free African in the West Indies now is infinitely in a
better situation than a soldier, not only in a pecuniary point of
view, but in almost every other respect.
'To the African savage, while being drilled into the duties of a
soldier, many things seem absolute tyranny which would appear to a
civilised man a mere necessary restraint. To keep the restless body
of an African Negro in a position to which he has not been
accustomed--to cramp his splay-feet, with his great toes standing
out, into European shoes made for feet of a different form--to place
a collar round his neck, which is called a stock, and which to him
is cruel torture--above all, to confine him every night to his
barracks--are almost insupportable. One unacquainted with the
habits of the Negro cannot conceive with what abhorrence he looks on
having his disposition to nocturnal rambles checked by barrack
regulations. {172}
'Formerly the "King's man," as the black soldier loved to call
himself, looked (not without reason) contemptuously on the planter's
slave, although he himself was after all but a slave to the State:
but these recruits were enlisted shortly after a number of their
recently imported countrymen were wandering freely over the country,
working either as free labourers, or settling, to use an apt
American phrase, as squatters; and to assert that the recruit, while
under military probation, is better off than the free Trinidad
labourer, who goes where he lists and earns as much in one day as
will keep him for three days, is an absurdity. Accordingly we find
that Lieutenant-Colonel Bush, who commanded the 1st West India
Regiment, thought that the mutiny was mainly owing to the ill advice
of their civil, or, we should rather say, unmilitary countrymen.
This, to a certain degree, was the fact: but, by the declaration of
Daaga and many of his countrymen, it is evident the seeds of mutiny
were sown on the passage from Africa.
'It has been asserted that the recruits were driven to mutiny by
hard treatment of their commanding officers. There seems not the
slightest truth in this assertion; they were treated with fully as
much kindness as their situation would admit of, and their chief was
peculiarly a favourite of Colonel Bush and the officers,
notwithstanding Daaga's violent and ferocious temper often caused
complaints to be brought against him.
'A correspondent of the Naval and Military Gazette was under an
apprehension that the mutineers would be joined by the praedial
apprentices of the circumjacent estates: not the slightest
foundation existed for this apprehension. Some months previous to
this Daaga had planned a mutiny, but this was interrupted by sending
a part of the Paupau and Yarraba recruits to St. Lucia. The object
of all those conspiracies was to get back to Guinea, which they
thought they could accomplish by marching to eastward.
'On the night of the 17th of June 1837, the people of San Josef were
kept awake by the recruits, about 280 in number, singing the war-
song of the Paupaus. This wild song consisted of a short air and
chorus. The tone was, although wild, not inharmonious, and the
words rather euphonious. As near as our alphabet can convey them,
they ran thus:--
"Dangkarree
Au fey,
Oluu werrei,
Au lay,"
which may be rendered almost literally by the following couplet:--
Air by the chief: "Come to plunder, come to slay;"
Chorus of followers: "We are ready to obey."
'About three o'clock in the morning their war-song (highly
characteristic of a predatory tribe) became very loud, and they
commenced uttering their war-cry. This is different from what we
conceive the Indian war-whoop to be: it seems to be a kind of
imitation of the growl of wild beasts, and has a most thrilling
effect.
'Fire now was set to a quantity of huts built for the accommodation
of African soldiers to the northward of the barracks, as well as to
the house of a poor black woman called Dalrymple. These burnt
briskly, throwing a dismal glare over the barracks and picturesque
town of San Josef, and overpowering the light of the full moon,
which illumined a cloudless sky. The mutineers made a rush at the
barrack-room, and seized on the muskets and fusees in the racks.
Their leader, Daaga, and a daring Yarraba named Ogston instantly
charged their pieces; the former of these had a quantity of ball-
cartridges, loose powder, and ounce and pistol-balls, in a kind of
gray worsted cap. He must have provided himself with these before
the mutiny. How he became possessed of them, especially the pistol-
balls, I never could learn; probably he was supplied by his
unmilitary countrymen: pistol-balls are never given to infantry.
Previous to this Daaga and three others made a rush at the
regimental store-room, in which was deposited a quantity of powder.
An old African soldier, named Charles Dickson, interfered to stop
them, on which Maurice Ogston, the Yarraba chief, who had armed
himself with a sergeant's sword, cut down the faithful African.
When down Daaga said, in English, "Ah, you old soldier, you knock
down." Dixon was not Daaga's countryman, hence he could not speak
to him in his own language. The Paupau then levelled his musket and
shot the fallen soldier, who groaned and died. The war-yells, or
rather growls, of the Paupaus and Yarrabas now became awfully
thrilling, as they helped themselves to cartridges: most of them
were fortunately blank, or without ball. Never was a premeditated
mutiny so wild and ill planned. Their chief, Daaga, and Ogston
seemed to have had little command of the subordinates, and the whole
acted more like a set of wild beasts who had broken their cages than
men resolved on war.
'At this period, had a rush been made at the officers' quarters by
one half (they were more than 200 in number), and the other half
surrounded the building, not one could have escaped. Instead of
this they continued to shout their war-song, and howl their war-
notes; they loaded their pieces with ball-cartridge, or blank
cartridge and small stones, and commenced firing at the long range
of white buildings in which Colonel Bush and his officers slept.
They wasted so much ammunition on this useless display of fury that
the buildings were completely riddled. A few of the old soldiers
opposed them, and were wounded; but it fortunately happened that
they were, to an inconceivable degree, ignorant of the right use of
firearms--holding their muskets in their hands when they discharged
them, without allowing the butt-end to rest against their shoulders
or any part of their bodies. This fact accounts for the
comparatively little mischief they did in proportion to the quantity
of ammunition thrown away.
'The officers and sergeant-major escaped at the back of the
building, while Colonel Bush and Adjutant Bentley came down a little
hill. The colonel commanded the mutineers to lay down their arms,
and was answered by an irregular discharge of balls, which rattled
amongst the leaves of a tree under which he and the adjutant were
standing. On this Colonel Bush desired Mr. Bentley to make the best
of his way to St. James's Barracks for all the disposable force of
the 89th Regiment. The officers made good their retreat, and the
adjutant got into the stable where his horse was. He saddled and
bridled the animal while the shots were coming into the stable,
without either man or beast getting injured. The officer mounted,
but had to make his way through the mutineers before he could get
into San Josef, the barracks standing on an eminence above the
little town. On seeing the adjutant mounted, the mutineers set up a
thrilling howl, and commenced firing at him. He discerned the
gigantic figure of Daaga (alias Donald Stewart), with his musket at
the trail: he spurred his horse through the midst of them; they
were grouped, but not in line. On looking back he saw Daaga aiming
at him; he stooped his head beside his horse's neck, and effectually
sheltered himself from about fifty shots aimed at him. In this
position he rode furiously down a steep hill leading from the
barracks to the church, and was out of danger. His escape appears
extraordinary: but he got safe to town, and thence to St. James's,
and in a short time, considering it is eleven miles distant, brought
out a strong detachment of European troops; these, however, did not
arrive until the affair was over.
'In the meantime a part of the officers' quarters was bravely
defended by two old African soldiers, Sergeant Merry and Corporal
Plague. The latter stood in the gallery, near the room in which
were the colours; he was ineffectually fired at by some hundreds,
yet he kept his post, shot two of the mutineers, and, it is said,
wounded a third. Such is the difference between a man acquainted
with the use of firearms and those who handle them as mops are held.
'In the meantime Colonel Bush got to a police-station above the
barracks, and got muskets and a few cartridges from a discharged
African soldier who was in the police establishment. Being joined
by the policemen, Corporal Craven {175} and Ensign Pogson, they
concealed themselves on an eminence above, and as the mutineers
(about 100 in number) approached, the fire of muskets opened on them
from the little ambush. The little party fired separately, loading
as fast as they discharged their pieces; they succeeded in making
the mutineers change their route.
'It is wonderful what little courage the savages in general showed
against the colonel and his little party; who absolutely beat them,
although but a twenty-fifth of their number, and at their own
tactics, i.e. bush fighting.
'A body of the mutineers now made towards the road to Maraccas, when
the colonel and his three assistants contrived to get behind a silk-
cotton tree, and recommenced firing on them. The Africans hesitated
and set forward, when the little party continued to fire on them;
they set up a yell, and retreated down the hill.
'A part of the mutineers now concealed themselves in the bushes
about San Josef barracks. These men, after the affair was over,
joined Colonel Bush, and with a mixture of cunning and effrontery
smiled as though nothing had happened, and as though they were glad
to see him; although, in general, they each had several shirts and
pairs of trousers on preparatory for a start to Guinea, by way of
Band de l'Est. {176a}
'In the meantime the San Josef militia were assembled, to the number
of forty. Major Giuseppi, and Captain and Adjutant Rousseau, of the
second division of militia forces, took command of them. They were
in want of flints, powder, and balls--to obtain these they were
obliged to break open a merchant's store; however, the adjutant so
judiciously distributed his little force as to hinder the mutineers
from entering the town, or obtaining access to the militia arsenal,
wherein there was a quantity of arms. Major Chadds and several old
African soldiers joined the militia, and were by them supplied with
arms.
'A good deal of skirmishing occurred between the militia and
detached parties of the mutineers, which uniformly ended in the
defeat of the latter. At length Daaga appeared to the right of a
party of six, at the entrance of the town; they were challenged by
the militia, and the mutineers fired on them, but without effect.
Only two of the militia returned the fire, when all but Daaga fled.
He was deliberately reloading his piece, when a militiaman, named
Edmond Luce, leaped on the gigantic chief, who would have easily
beat him off, although the former was a strong young man of colour:
but Daaga would not let go his gun; and, in common with all the
mutineers, he seemed to have no idea of the use of the bayonet.
Daaga was dragging the militiaman away, when Adjutant Rousseau came
to his assistance, and placed a sword to Daaga's breast. Doctor
Tardy and several others rushed on the tall Negro, who was soon, by
the united efforts of several, thrown down and secured. It was at
this period that he repeatedly exclaimed, while he bit his own
shoulder, "The first white man I catch after this I will eat him."
{176b}
'Meanwhile about sixteen of the mutineers, led by the daring Ogston,
took the road to Arima; in order, as they said, to commence their
march to Guinea: but fortunately the militia of that village,
composed principally of Spaniards, Indians, and Sambos, assembled.
A few of these met them and stopped their march. A kind of parley
(if intercourse carried on by signs could be so called) was carried
on between the parties. The mutineers made signs that they wished
to go forward, while the few militiamen endeavoured to detain them,
expecting a reinforcement momently. After a time the militia agreed
to allow them to approach the town; as they were advancing they were
met by the commandant, Martin Sorzano, Esq., with sixteen more
militiamen. The commandant judged it imprudent to allow the
Africans to enter the town with their muskets full cocked and poised
ready to fire. An interpreter was now procured, and the mutineers
were told that if they would retire to their barracks the gentlemen
present would intercede for their pardon. The Negroes refused to
accede to these terms, and while the interpreter was addressing
some, the rest tried to push forward. Some of the militia opposed
them by holding their muskets in a horizontal position, on which one
of the mutineers fired, and the militia returned the fire. A melee
commenced, in which fourteen mutineers were killed and wounded. The
fire of the Africans produced little effect: they soon took to
flight amid the woods which flanked the road. Twenty-eight of them
were taken, amongst whom was the Yarraba chief, Ogston. Six had
been killed, and six committed suicide by strangling and hanging
themselves in the woods. Only one man was wounded amongst the
militia, and he but slightly, from a small stone fired from a musket
of one of the Yarrabas.
'The quantity of ammunition expended by the mutineers, and the
comparatively little mischief done by them, was truly astonishing.
It shows how little they understood the use of firearms. Dixon was
killed, and several of the old African soldiers were wounded, but
not one of the officers was in the slightest degree hurt.
'I have never been able to get a correct account of the number of
lives this wild mutiny cost, but believe it was not less than forty,
including those slain by the militia at Arima; those shot at San
Josef; those who died of their wounds (and most of the wounded men
died); the six who committed suicide; the three that were shot by
sentence of the court-martial, and one who was shot while
endeavouring to escape (Satchell).
'A good-looking young man, named Torrens, was brought as prisoner to
the presence of Colonel Bush. The colonel wished to speak to him,
and desired his guards to liberate him; on which the young savage
shook his sleeve, in which was concealed a razor, made a rush at the
colonel, and nearly succeeded in cutting his throat. He slashed the
razor in all directions until he made an opening: he rushed through
this; and, notwithstanding he was fired at, and I believe wounded,
he effected his escape, was subsequently retaken, and again made his
escape with Satchell, who after this was shot by a policeman.
'Torrens was retaken, tried, and recommended to mercy. Of this
man's fate I am unable to speak, not knowing how far the
recommendation to mercy was attended to. In appearance he seemed
the mildest and best-looking of the mutineers, but his conduct was
the most ferocious of any. The whole of the mutineers were captured
within one week of the mutiny, save this man, who was taken a month
after.
'On the 19th of July, Donald Stewart, otherwise Daaga, was brought
to a court-martial. On the 21st William Satchell was tried. On the
22d a court-martial was held on Edward Coffin; and on the 24th one
was held on the Yarraba chief, Maurice Ogston, whose country name
was, I believe, Mawee. Torrens was tried on the 29th.
'The sentences of these courts-martial were unknown until the 14th
of August, having been sent to Barbadoes in order to be submitted to
the Commander-in-Chief, Lieutenant-General Whittingham, who approved
of the decision of the courts, which was that Donald Stewart
(Daaga), Maurice Ogston, and Edward Coffin should suffer death by
being shot, and that William Satchell should be transported beyond
seas during the term of his natural life. I am unacquainted with
the sentence of Torrens.
'Donald Stewart, Maurice Ogston, and Edward Coffin were executed on
the 16th of August 1837, at San Josef Barracks. Nothing seemed to
have been neglected which could render the execution solemn and
impressive; the scenery and the weather gave additional awe to the
melancholy proceedings. Fronting the little eminence where the
prisoners were shot was the scene where their ill-concerted mutiny
commenced. To the right stood the long range of building on which
they had expended much of their ammunition for the purpose of
destroying their officers. The rest of the panorama was made up of
an immense view of forest below them, and upright masses of
mountains above them. Over those, heavy bodies of mist were slowly
sailing, giving a sombre appearance to the primeval woods which, in
general, covered both mountains and plains. The atmosphere
indicated an inter-tropical morning during the rainy season, and the
sun shone resplendently between dense columns of clouds.
'At half-past seven o'clock the condemned men asked to be allowed to
eat a hearty meal, as they said persons about to be executed in
Guinea were always indulged with a good repast. It is remarkable
that these unhappy creatures ate most voraciously, even while they
were being brought out of their cell for execution.
'A little before the mournful procession commenced, the condemned
men were dressed from head to foot in white habiliments trimmed with
black; their arms were bound with cords. This is not usual in
military executions, but was deemed necessary on the present
occasion. An attempt to escape, on the part of the condemned, would
have been productive of much confusion, and was properly guarded
against.
'The condemned men displayed no unmanly fear. On the contrary, they
steadily kept step to the Dead March which the band played; yet the
certainty of death threw a cadaverous and ghastly hue over their
black features, while their singular and appropriate costume, and
the three coffins being borne before them, altogether rendered it a
frightful picture: hence it was not to be wondered at that two of
the European soldiers fainted.
'The mutineers marched abreast. The tall form and horrid looks of
Daaga were almost appalling. The looks of Ogston were sullen, calm,
and determined; those of Coffin seemed to indicate resignation.
'At eight o'clock they arrived at the spot where three graves were
dug; here their coffins were deposited. The condemned men were made
to face to westward; three sides of a hollow square were formed,
flanked on one side by a detachment of the 89th Regiment and a party
of artillery, while the recruits, many of whom shared the guilt of
the culprits, were appropriately placed in the line opposite them.
The firing-party were a little in advance of the recruits.
'The sentence of the courts-martial, and other necessary documents,
having been read by the fort adjutant, Mr. Meehan, the chaplain of
the forces, read some prayers appropriated for these melancholy
occasions. The clergyman then shook hands with the three men about
to be sent into another state of existence. Daaga and Ogston coolly
gave their hands: Coffin wrung the chaplain's hand affectionately,
saying, in tolerable English, "I am now done with the world."
'The arms of the condemned men, as has been before stated, were
bound, but in such a manner as to allow them to bring their hands to
their heads. Their night-caps were drawn over their eyes. Coffin
allowed his to remain, but Ogston and Daaga pushed theirs up again.
The former did this calmly; the latter showed great wrath, seeming
to think himself insulted; and his deep metallic voice sounded in
anger above that of the provost-marshal, {179} as the latter gave
the words "Ready! present!" But at this instant his vociferous
daring forsook him. As the men levelled their muskets at him, with
inconceivable rapidity he sprang bodily round, still preserving his
squatting posture, and received the fire from behind; while the less
noisy, but more brave, Ogston looked the firing-party full in the
face as they discharged their fatal volley.
'In one instant all three fell dead, almost all the balls of the
firing-party having taken effect. The savage appearance and manner
of Daaga excited awe. Admiration was felt for the calm bravery of
Ogston, while Edward Coffin's fate excited commiseration.
'There were many spectators of this dreadful scene, and amongst
others a great concourse of Negroes. Most of these expressed their
hopes that after this terrible example the recruits would make good
soldiers.'
Ah, stupid savages. Yes: but also--ah, stupid civilised people.