Demarara, Feb. 11, 1797.
A considerable time has now passed since our arrival upon this coast,
and, having remained so long without any interruption, we had almost
believed that the many foes upon our borders meant to leave us in quiet
possession of the colonies we had taken; but we have, at length, been
assailed from the quarter, whence we least expected it, having had a
skirmish with the Spaniards to leeward, instead of the Dutch or French,
who in more imposing aspect, threatened us from windward. Fixing upon a
favorable moment when they expected that the garrison might be sunk in
repose, after the festivities of the Queen’s birth-day, a party of
Spaniards crossed the river Oronoko in the night of the 19th inst. and
made an attack upon our out-post at Moroko, the remotest point of the
colony of Essequibo. To their disappointment our troops were upon the
alert, and they were observed before they landed. Quickly the whole
force at the post was under arms, and at stepping on shore the Dons met
a very lively reception. The firing was returned on the part of the
Spaniards, who boldly rushed forward, expecting to subdue the garrison,
but, after the contest had continued a short time, they were defeated,
and, some being killed, some wounded, and others driven into the river,
those who were able to make their escape, precipitately took to their
boats and retreated. Happily not one of our men was killed, but the
commanding officer and nine of the soldiers were wounded, some of the
latter, we fear, mortally. This is the first rencontre we have had with
the enemy since our arrival in Guiana; and, from the result, it is
probable that the next assault will not be from the quarter of the
Oronoko.
Very much to their honor, this gallant defence of our out-post was made
by Captain Rochelle and a party of the Dutch troops, who had surrendered
on our taking the colonies, and afterwards entered into the service of
his Majesty. They fought with great bravery, and gave a satisfactory
proof that they merited the confidence reposed in them, in appointing
them to the charge of this important station.
Two of the Bucks were despatched from the post, to bring us the news of
the action, and they, with the zeal and punctuality of more regular
couriers, reached Stabroek on the 23d, four days after the battle.
According to my custom, I engaged these men of the woods, each evening
during their stay, to join in my favorite exercise of shooting with the
bow and arrow.
I have lately taken frequent opportunities of entering into conversation
with different negroes, both male and female, endeavouring to ascertain
what were their sentiments with regard to the subject of freedom and
slavery; and, when I tell you that I was careful to select those who
were the most intelligent, you will be surprised at the very limited
extent of their knowledge. Their utmost ambition does not go beyond the
procuring of food, with the little clothing they wear, and medicine when
sick; nor in any other view do they seem to comprehend the advantages of
freedom: being assured of these, from their masters, whilst they remain
slaves, they have a terror at the idea of being made free: yet I have
remarked that some of the women speak in raptures on the topic of
obtaining their liberty; but, upon further questioning them, I have
always discovered that it was not from any just sense of independence;
but from the mere desire of becoming the sultanas of white men, and
being placed by them above the ordinary slaves of the house.
I give you the following conversation, literally as it passed; from
which you will be able to form a more correct judgment of the sentiments
which dictated the replies.
Would you not like to go to England?
No! Backra country no good! In neger country they no flog ’em, and dat
better dan backra country.
Do you not wish to be free?
O yes! O yes!
And if you were free, where would you live, and what would you do?
Live wid dem dat buy me free.
Well! and would you not go with them to England?
No! me ’fraid for go where ’em all backra. Me love for see neger here
and dere; me ’fraid for see all backra.
But if those, who bought you free, should go away and leave you?
Den me live wid one backra man, and hab one slave for work for me.
And if this backra man should die?
Den me live wid one other backra man.
This was the utmost extent of all she desired on earth. She would remain
with any family who might make her free, but if they should leave the
colony, she would go and live with a white man, and prevail upon him to
buy her a slave; and if this protector should die, then she would seek
for another _backra_, and go and live with him; and so on, from one to
another, as often as they should die, or leave the colony. It was a very
common reply from many of them to the question, “What would you do if
you were free?” “Live wid de backra man dat buy me free, wash him linen,
and keep him clean!”
Among those who condemned freedom was a very fine negro, who was born in
the colony; and who speaks better English, and is more intelligent than
nine-tenths of the slaves who have been imported. This man insisted that
he would not accept his freedom, if it were offered him, but that he
would prefer to remain a slave. If free, he said, he must work for his
food whilst he was young, and when he should be old; whereas if he
remained a slave, his master would give him food for his labour while
young, and let him eat, in rest, when he grew aged. Also if sick his
master would let him have provisions, and find him a doctor; but if he
were free, he could not work for food when old, or sick; nor could he
have a doctor, because he should be unable to pay him. This country, he
said, was good for him, he was born in it, and he would not like to go
into any other. If he should have “_the misfortune_” to be made free, he
would learn a trade, and work at that to procure him food and clothing.
He had acquired some idea of a future state, and described it as a great
and general principle among the negroes, to cherish any of their own
colour who were advanced in years, and were in want, and to feed and
compassionate them, if they were free, and unable to work; for which he
observed they should “go to heaven.” He had no doubt of being taken
thither himself, and told me that he was ready to die that minute if any
one would kill him, adding, that he would rather die than live! On being
asked why he did not kill himself, he replied, “_Dat no good, if I sall
do dat, me go to hell._” Lying, swearing, and drunkenness, he did not
regard as crimes: suicide, and giving poison to any person were, in his
estimation, the greatest, and almost the only sins. These he considered
as certain of preventing any one from being received into heaven, of
which, his ideas were extremely vague, and unintelligible. Hell he
described as an immense caldron of liquid fire, into which the wicked
were to be plunged.
You may, probably, have heard it questioned whether a person can be
attacked with the yellow fever more than once; I may tell you,
therefore, amidst my unconnected notes, that to the mortification of
those who have already suffered it, as well as of others, we know too
well that it may and does attack the same person, not only a second
time, but many times[2]. An instance of this I may mention to you,
together with a genuine blunder produced on the subject, by one of the
gentlemen of the hospital department, whose home lies a little to the
west of Holyhead.
The patient was the sergeant-major of the rangers, a man who, from the
nature of his appointment, was subjected to much duty and fatigue. He
had twice been a patient at the hospital, in yellow fever, and had both
times recovered, after being in a state nearly to be despaired of. On
his returning to us a third time, we were lamenting the severity of his
sufferings, and the hard trials he had to encounter, when one of the
hospital-mates exclaimed, “Faith, and it’s no wonder he should be
attacked so often, for he is constantly exposed to the heat of the sun,
_night and day_.”
Sometimes, without any feelings of actual disease, the eyes and skin of
those who, from their employment, continue in the greatest degrees of
heat, become as yellow as in the worst cases of the yellow fever. This
happens to bakers, cooks, blacksmiths, and the like. A few days ago, in
one of my walks, I met a man who had, some time before, been a patient
in the hospital, and observing that his skin and eyes were of a strong
yellow colour, I asked him if he felt again ill; when he replied in the
negative, adding that, on the contrary, he continued so well as to be
employed _as a baker_, at the commissary’s, and further remarking, that
he had himself noticed the tinge, which he had been told was owing to
the heat of his business.
Notwithstanding the severity of disease, among those who are recently
arrived in the West Indies, we remark that the creoles, or creolised,
are generally much greater invalids, than those who are but lately from
Europe. This fact we see particularly exemplified in the corps of South
American rangers; the officers of which have been appointed, some from
the regiments newly arrived from England, and the others from among the
colonists: while the latter are feeble and ailing, and often unfit for
duty, the former are active and robust, far less complaining, and seldom
indisposed, except when attacked with violent and dangerous disease. The
creolised have a degree of languor and lassitude about them, and are
subject to head-ach, and febrile sensations, which render them inactive,
and less capable of exertion than the others: they are also very liable
to fever of a remittent, or intermittent type, which either invades them
at irregular periods, or returns in severe annual visitation.