This continued for some minutes, the constant shrieks and groans of our black assailants showing us that the shot frequently took effect. I believe, indeed, that very few of the captain’s missed. Though he fired rapidly, it was always with coolness and steadiness, and it appeared to me that he had singled out his victim before he turned round to take the musket from me.
As yet none of our people had been killed, though some of the enemy’s shot had found their way through the loopholes in the windows and doors. Growing, however, more desperate at the loss of their companions, and burning for revenge, they rushed up closer to the house, pouring in their fire, which searched out every hole and cranny. Some of the slaves who incautiously exposed themselves were the first to suffer. A poor fellow was standing at the window next to me. A bullet struck him on the breast. It was fired from a tree, I suspect. Down he fell, crying out piteously, and writhing in his agony. It was very dreadful. Then the blood rushed out of his mouth in torrents, and he was quiet. I sprang forward, intending to help him. The pale light of the lantern fell on his countenance. He looked perfectly calm. I thought he was resting, and would get up soon and fire away again. My glance was but momentary, for the captain called me back to my post.
The fire on this became hotter and hotter. Two more negroes were struck. They did not fall, but cried out most piteously. One of the English gentlemen was next shot. He fell without a groan. The captain told me to run and see where he was hurt. I tried to lift him up, but his limbs fell down motionless. There was a deep hole in his forehead, through which blood was bubbling. I suspected the truth that he was dead. I told the captain that he was hit on the head. “Leave him, then, Jack,” said he; “you can do him no good.”
On my return, I looked at the negro who had been first hit. He, too, was motionless. I tried to place him in a sitting posture, but he fell back again.
“Let him alone, Jack,” cried the captain; “his work is done; he’s no longer a slave.”
I thus found that the negro also was dead. It seemed very dreadful to me; I burst into tears.
I cried heartily as I knelt loading the muskets, forgetting that in a short time the captain, and I, and every one in the house, might be in the same state. Had not the whites shown great determination, all must before this have fallen victims to the rage of the Maroons. Numbers of our enemies were shot, but still they rushed on, resolved to destroy the house and all in it.
While the uproar they made was at its height, a loud battering was heard at one of the doors. The enemy had cut down the trunk of a young tree, and were endeavouring to break in the door with it. The captain and the other gentlemen shot down several who were thus engaged, but still they persevered; and, as some fell, fresh assailants rushing up, seized the battering-ram, and continued the work. The door was stout, but we saw that it was giving way. It began to crack in every direction. Pieces of furniture and sand-bags were piled up against it, but with little avail. Each blow shattered a part of it, and soon, with a loud crash, it was driven in, and the fierce, excited faces of our dark foes were seen above the barricade formed by the bags, and furniture, and broken door. Several who attempted to pass over it were shot down, but our people being now much more than ever exposed to the fire of the enemy, proportionably suffered. The shot came in thick among us, and one after the other was wounded.
While the captain and others were defending the breach, the battering-ram was withdrawn; why, we were not long left in doubt. To our great horror, the battering, cracking sound was heard in the rear of the house. Still we were not at once to be defeated, and some of our party hurried to defend the spot. The attack on the front-door had cost the negroes so many lives that they were more cautious in approaching the second; and, when our party began to fire, they retreated under shelter, leaving the trunk of the tree on the ground. At the same time, they began apparently to weary of their ill success in front of the house; for of course they could not be aware that they had killed any of its defenders. We were thus hoping that they would at length withdraw, when the whole country in front of us seemed to burst into flame.
“They have set the fields on fire!” exclaimed the planter.