For eight days the two wandered about the forest, losing their way and almost dying from hunger and thirst. They dared not approach the river for fear of the negroes. Once they came upon the back of a plantation and hurriedly gathered a few cobs of Indian corn, immediately afterwards running back into the bush to eat them. While lying down a negro with a sabre passed quite close without seeing them, but presently another with a gun peeped into the bushes and caught sight of them. On this Mittelholzer ran out with his drawn sabre and so furiously attacked the rebel that he cut off one of his hands, captured his gun, and put him to flight. However, this audacity did not save him, for he was captured soon afterwards, Charbon managing to escape into the forest. Alone the boy wandered about for six or seven days, until, again becoming desperate from hunger, he returned to the same plantation, to fall into the hands of the negroes. He was stripped of his clothes, put in the stocks, flogged, and threatened with death, but was finally spared on account of his youth, and because the rebel chief, "King" Coffee, wanted a secretary to write letters to Governor Hoogenheim, proposing terms.
Meanwhile the poor Governor hardly knew what to do. He sent to Surinam and Demerara for assistance, but while awaiting this the military officers informed him that the fort was untenable against even a single assault. The wooden palisades were so rotten that a strong man could pull them down easily, and then the building was of wood and could easily be fired. He was ultimately obliged to destroy it and retire down the river, where he at first took possession of the lowest plantation, Dageraad, hoping to remain there until assistance arrived. But even here the rumours of an attack by the rebels made the people clamorous to be allowed to leave, and Hoogenheim had to retire to the mouth of the river, where there was a small guard-house, or signal station, near the site of what is now New Amsterdam. Thus the last hold on the plantations was given up, and the whole colony abandoned to the negroes.
A month passed before the first arrival from Surinam. All that time the Governor and a few whites waited day after day, sometimes almost in despair. The vessels had, at the request of their captains, been allowed to leave, carrying with them some of the people, while others had gone off to Demerara. This desertion was almost necessary, as the food supply was very limited and of a poor quality—cowards were useless, and therefore no objection was made to their departure. Hoogenheim was at last somewhat relieved by the arrival of the English brigantine Betsy with a hundred soldiers from Surinam, and with this small contingent he at once began to retrace his steps with a view to recover the colony. He went back to Dageraad, and in a day or two after was attacked by seven hundred negroes, who fought from early morning to noon, when they retired after suffering a great loss in killed and wounded. It was after this battle that young Charbon arrived with a letter bringing "greetings from Coffee, Governor of the negroes of Berbice." The rebel chief said that as the negroes did not want war, he would give His Honour half the colony, while he himself would govern the other half and go up the river with his people, who were determined never again to be slaves. No notice was taken of this, and Charbon, who had been warned to bring back an answer at his peril, was too pleased to get back to his white friends to again wish for his post of secretary.
Even now the Governor's situation was not only perilous, but most pitiful. St. Eustatius sent two vessels, but almost as soon as they arrived the men were attacked by sickness, and instead of being a help they had to be nursed, even the Governor himself taking his part in the necessary attendance. At one time there were not enough healthy soldiers to relieve guard, but fortunately Coffee had no means of knowing this, or all would certainly have been over with them.
It was not until December that a fleet arrived from the Netherlands, and then a horrible vengeance overtook the rebels. There was not much difficulty in subduing them, especially when a large contingent of Indians was sent overland from Demerara to drive them from the forest. In March, 1764, the trials began with a hundred ringleaders, fifty of whom were sentenced to death. Fifteen of these were burnt, sixteen broken on the wheel, and twenty-two hanged. The following month they executed in similar ways thirty-four, and later again thirty-two. The chiefs were burnt at slow fires, punishment which they bore with the utmost stoicism. One named Atta, however, told the bystanders that he only suffered what he deserved. Finally, in December a general amnesty was proclaimed, which made the negroes cry out with joy, Dankje! Dankje!
Berbice was of course utterly ruined for a time. The plantations were overrun with weeds, the buildings in ruins, and many of the slaves missing. Of the whites only 116 remained; the rest were dead from sickness, had been killed by the negroes, or had fled from the colony. The loss in killed was small, as the general fright prevented any show of resistance. What would have happened if the whites had fallen into the hands of the rebels was shown in one or two flagrant cases. One of the colony surgeons was said to have been flayed alive on the ground that he had poisoned the slaves by forcing them to take medicine. One poor girl who had been captured at Peereboom was compelled to submit to the embraces of King Coffee and driven mad, while another committed suicide to prevent a similar degradation. About eight hundred slaves were missing, most of whom had been killed, as very few managed to escape to the bush.
MARCH THROUGH A SWAMP.
(From Stedman's "Surinam.")
Behind the coast of Guiana is a long stretch of swamp, which in slavery times was the general resort of runaways. For miles extends a grassy plain like a meadow, the sedges entirely covering the two to four feet of water which would otherwise give it the appearance of a great lake. Except through the various streams that drain it, access is almost impossible during the rainy season, and even the Indians care little to explore its recesses beyond fishing in the canal-like creeks. However, here and there are little islands or sand reefs, and on these the runaway slaves took refuge. First, perhaps, a murderer would escape and hide himself for a time until the hue and cry had abated, returning now and again to the plantation at night for the purpose of getting provisions from his friends. Then others would follow, until a party of twenty to a hundred, with their wives, had established a little village. Towards the end of the last century a number of these communities of bush negroes had been formed in Demerara, and their depredations became so common that regular expeditions were sent against them, guided by Indian trackers. In 1795 they joined with the slaves to raise a general insurrection, but special measures were taken so that they were almost suppressed for a time.
Before this they had formed a line of stations for seventy miles from the river Demerara to the Berbice. Every camp was naturally surrounded by water, and by driving pointed stakes in a circle, and leaving the entrance to wind through a double line under water, they were made almost impregnable. To reach them the attacking party had to wade up to their middles through perhaps a mile of ooze and water, to be cut with razor grass, and all the time at the mercy of the negroes. Only during the dry season was anything like success possible, and even then the negroes generally saved themselves by flight.