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.

Many of the slaves were friendly with the runaways, but they were much feared by the more timid. On one occasion a negro went to cut wood at the back of a plantation in Demerara and came suddenly upon the outpost of a camp, probably the entrance to the concealed path which led to the little sand reef. In walking along he stepped upon a bush-rope, and immediately after heard a bell ring above his head. Before he could get away a ferocious bush negro stood before him and demanded his business, but the poor slave was so frightened that he ran home and reported the occurrence to his master. Some of the slaves went so far as to enjoy hunting runaways—in fact, there was little love lost between the two parties. One of these was offered his freedom as a reward for the assistance he had given in an expedition, the Government engaging to purchase him of his owner provided they both consented. Tony, however, did not wish to leave a good master, and refused, stipulating, however, that he should retain the right to accept the kind offer at some future period. When his master ultimately left Demerara, some years afterwards, Tony claimed his promised freedom and got it.

While the bush negroes in other parts of Guiana were kept within reasonable bounds, those of Surinam, like the maroons of Jamaica, had never been conquered. Treaties were agreed to by them in 1749 and 1761, but disputes continually occurred, with the result that the colonists were always more or less in fear of their raids. Then they carried off most of the slaves whenever they attacked a plantation, until their number became so great as to be a real danger. In 1773 the authorities in the Netherlands resolved to make a special effort to conquer them, and for this purpose raised a corps of all nationalities which was put under the command of Colonel Fourgeaud.

That soldiers should be brought from Europe for such a service shows the utter ignorance of the Dutch authorities. If the colonists themselves could not put down the bush negroes, how could it be expected that this would be effected by fresh troops from a cold climate, who had no knowledge of the country, the mode of fighting, or the difficulties of travelling through the bush and swamp?

Commissioners had visited them at different times to arrange the treaties, but there was generally something wrong with the presents (virtually blackmail), or else they were given to the wrong parties. In 1761 the chief Araby had insisted on the commissioners binding themselves by his form of oath. This was done by each party tasting the blood of the other. With a sharp knife a few drops were drawn from the arm of each person into a calabash of water with a few particles of dry earth. After pouring a small quantity of this mixture on the ground as a libation, the calabash was handed round from one to another until all the company had taken a sip. Then the gadoman (priest) took heaven and earth—exemplified by the water and clay—to witness the agreement, and invoked the curse of God upon the first who broke it, the company and crowd of negroes around calling out Da so! (that is so, or amen).

Yet, after all this solemnity, quarrels soon arose again. One chief with his sixteen hundred people had come to terms, but these did not bind his neighbour, who perhaps had half as many. The different chiefs were not united in any way, and it followed, therefore, that, after thousands of guilders had been spent on one, the others made incursions to get a share of the good things for themselves. To the colonists they were all bush negroes, but among themselves they were as distinct as if they had been different nations. Even when at peace, and when the chiefs had received gold-headed canes as symbols of authority, they would often call at the outlying plantations and demand rum or anything else they fancied, which the whites dared not refuse.

The immediate occasion for the special corps from the mother country was an insurrection of the slaves in 1772, who, after plundering and burning some of the plantations, and murdering their owners, fled in great numbers to join the bush negroes. The whole colony was a scene of horror and consternation—the colonists expected the rising to become general, and took refuge in Paramaribo, thus leaving their plantations unprotected. However, it was soon checked, mainly by raising a body of three hundred free negroes, called rangers, who were expert bushfighters, and therefore thoroughly well fitted to cope with the rebels.

One of the chiefs named Baron had settled on an island in the swamp, such as we have described, where he defied the whole colony. There were no means of communication except hidden tracks under water, and in addition to the palisades the chief had erected a battery of swivel guns which he had stolen from the plantations. Thus triply defended by water, stakes, and guns, it is no wonder if he thought his position impregnable. However, he was discovered by a party of rangers, and assaulted by them and a large body of white soldiers. Camping first on the edge of the swamp about a mile away, they could see Baron's flag waving in defiance on the little island, while they were at their wits' ends to find a means of getting at him. A great many shots were wasted by both sides before they found the distance was too great, even for the swivel guns, and then the rangers began to act. Several weeks were passed in attempting to make a causeway by sinking fascines, but when the workers had come within range, so many were killed that it had to be abandoned. In despair of ever effecting anything, they were about to retire, when some of the rangers discovered the hidden pathway under water. A feint was now made of attacking one side by one party, while another crept along the track, and thus at last the fortress was stormed. A terrible hand-to-hand fight took place, in which many were killed on both sides, but even then Baron managed to escape with a good number of his followers.

This defeat made little impression, for soon afterwards the slaves on three plantations killed their white masters, and, like the others, went off to join the bush negroes. It was now felt that something must be done or the colony would have to be abandoned. The bush negroes had to be hunted from their recesses, however difficult the task might be, otherwise there would be no safety even in the town itself. The expeditions could only move in Indian file, exposed to ambushes in the most difficult parts of the track, and firing from behind trees everywhere. There was no possibility of bringing the party together if attacked; it followed, therefore, that the long string of men went forward with the utmost caution. In front came two powerful blacks with machetes or cutlasses to clear the way, and immediately behind them the vanguard. These were followed by the main body alternating with ammunition bearers, and, finally, a long line of carriers with food, medicines, utensils, and kill-devil (rum) with the rearguard. Sometimes the party would flounder through a swamp for hours, holding their firearms above their heads to keep them dry. Then drenching showers would fall, and give the greatest trouble to prevent the powder from becoming useless. Creeks had to be passed on fallen trees, or the party would be detained until a trunk was felled and trimmed to afford a passage. Exposed to malaria, mosquitoes, bush ticks, and maribuntas, they went on day after day, only to find, on reaching the village of the bush negroes, that they had gone elsewhere, to perhaps turn up at some unprotected plantation. The European troops died off in great numbers, while the enemy were in their element. It followed, therefore, that little was done, and that the old system of conciliation had to be adopted, with the same unsatisfactory results. Finally, by utilising their mutual jealousies, about 1793 they were driven so far away from the settlements as to become almost harmless. Their descendants still exist almost as savages, with curious manners and customs, partly inherited from their African forefathers, and partly adopted from their neighbours the Indians.

We must now return to the maroons of Jamaica, who had not been conquered, although a nominal treaty existed, and the white residents remained at their posts. In July, 1795, two of them were flogged for pig-stealing, and this was considered a disgrace on the whole community. On the return of the pig-stealers to Trelawny they raised a great outcry, and the resident was at once ordered to leave on pain of death. Efforts were made to pacify them, but they sent a written defiance to the magistrates who had ordered the flogging and declared their intention to attack Montego Bay. The militia were called out and soldiers applied for, but before the preparations were completed, a body of maroons appeared and asked for an interview with four gentlemen whom they named.

Hoping the matter might be prevented from going farther, these and several other whites went to the rendezvous, where they were received by three hundred armed men. The maroons complained of the disgrace on the whole body, through the flogging having been performed by a negro overseer in the presence of felons, and demanded reparation. They wanted, first, an addition to their lands, and, second, a dismissal of the then resident in favour of one they had formerly. Promising to forward their requests to the Governor, the gentlemen left, the maroons appearing as if pacified.

However, this interview was only applied for to gain time, and especially to allow the departure of the British fleet which was then on the point of leaving, and might be detained if they moved too quickly. On the report that there was a probability of a settlement of the matter the fleet left, when the maroons immediately began to plot with the slaves for a general rising. Reports of this had been received by the Governor before, but just after the men-of-war had departed more definite news arrived, which induced him to send a fast-sailing boat to bring them back. Fortunately this was successfully accomplished, and at once confidence drove out the fear of murders, fires, and plundering which had alarmed the inhabitants. The slaves were correspondingly disheartened and left the maroons to fight alone.

But even the maroons themselves became divided in opinion on the return of the military and naval force. The Governor taking advantage of this, issued a proclamation calling upon them to submit, but only thirty-eight old men came forward, the others being determined to fight. They set fire to their own town and commenced hostilities by attacking the outposts. This led to a pursuit in which the whites fell into an ambuscade, many being killed, without as far as was known doing any harm whatever to the enemy. Now commenced a series of raids on the plantations, in which even infants at the breast were massacred.

The matter becoming serious, the General Assembly resolved to hunt the rebels with dogs, as had been intended before the treaty. They accordingly sent over to Cuba for huntsmen with their powerful blood-hounds, the descendants of those which had once worried the poor Indians, and afterwards assisted the buccaneers. Times had changed however, and a feeling grew up that hunting men with savage beasts was not quite the thing. This led to some expressions of opinion adverse to the action of the executive, but they excused themselves on the ground that the safety of the island demanded extreme measures. If war was justifiable at all, any and every means, they said, was allowable; in fact, "all was fair in war."

Meanwhile the maroons had been driven to their strongholds in the mountains, where they had little to eat, and were virtually compelled to ravage the plantations for food. On the arrival of forty chasseurs with their hundred dogs, however, they became alarmed, and began to sue for mercy. It does not appear that there was any real necessity for using the animals, their presence being enough for the purpose. They were led behind the troops, and on their appearance the maroons surrendered in great numbers, this putting an end to the insurrection.

Now came the question of what was to be done with them. It was argued that no country could suffer people to live in it unless they could be controlled by law, and that obedience could not be expected from these people. To expect it was entirely out of the question; it was therefore resolved to transport them from the island. Accordingly, in June, 1796, six hundred were sent to Halifax, Nova Scotia, where lands were granted them and a subsistence allowed until crops could be raised. Not liking the climate, they were ultimately established in Sierra Leone, where they became the nucleus of the present colony. Those who had submitted remained in Jamaica, where their descendants are still well known.

XI

There was a short intermission in the struggle between 1748 and 1756, when the "Seven Years' War" commenced; but before the actual declaration hostilities had commenced between the two rivals in India and North America. Now arose one of England's great admirals, Rodney, who gained his laurels in the Caribbean Sea, and was mainly instrumental in putting France in the background as a naval power. He first came to the front in 1759, when he bombarded Havre, and later, with that other great seaman, Sir Samuel Hood, he became a "household word" in the West Indies.

Before they appeared, however, the British captured Guadeloupe, and commenced a general raid upon the French shipping. But, as usual, our gallant foes were by no means despicable, for in 1760 they claimed to have taken 2,539 English vessels, against a loss of only 944. On the 5th of January, 1762, Rodney sailed from Barbados for Martinique, in command of eighteen ships of the line, and on the 4th of the following month the island capitulated. Then Grenada was taken, to be followed by Dominica, Tobago, St. Vincent, and St. Lucia, thus giving the whole of the French Caribbees into the possession of Great Britain. Spain being also involved, Admiral Pococke attacked Havana in May, and, after a siege of twenty-nine days, took the Morro Castle, a fort hitherto considered impregnable. A fortnight later the Governor of Cuba was compelled to capitulate, thus giving the town also into the hands of the British. These exploits made France and Spain sue for peace, which was signed at Paris in February, 1763, when Grenada, St. Vincent, Dominica, and Tobago were ceded to Great Britain, the other captures being restored.

After this war positive orders were sent to the British West Indies to break off all trade and intercourse with the French and Spanish settlements, with the result that contraband and other traffic was thrown into the hands of the Dutch and Danes. Then the Dutch islands of Curaçao and St. Eustatius began to flourish more and more, and those of the Danes, St. Thomas and St. John, became free ports. During the wars these islands rose to a pitch of prosperity hardly possible to any of those belonging to the combatants, on account of their neutrality. Naturally they were almost barren and of little account as plantations; but as entrepôts they were exceedingly useful, not only to their owners, but to the belligerents as well. Here alone could French, Spanish, and British ships meet without fighting, and for them they could run when pursued by the enemy.

The island of St. Thomas was first colonised in 1666, but for a long time it made little progress. It became useful to the pirates, however, mainly from its being a safe place at which to dispose of their captures. Then merchant vessels found it sometimes convenient to go in to escape these rovers, perhaps to be followed by them, and yet remain safe until an opportunity occurred for escaping their vigilance. Prizes were brought here and sold, the prospect of good bargains leading to the settlement of a number of rich merchants, and especially Jews. What with all this, and a little contraband traffic, the people of St. Thomas did very well, and soon the harbour became one of the busiest in the West Indies.

And here we must mention that the Jews were a very important factor in the development of the early settlements. It will be remembered that large numbers of these people were driven from Spain after the conquest of Granada, and how they went to Portugal and the Netherlands. A large number also went to Brazil, where at first they had a measure of freedom in the exercise of their religion not granted in the mother country. When the Dutch captured Brazil, perfect freedom followed; but after Portugal took her own again, this was withdrawn, and in consequence many left for Surinam and the West Indian islands. Here they were joined by some of their co-religionists from Holland, and in time became a powerful body of planters, but more especially traders. To them were due many improvements in the manufacture of sugar, and even the introduction of the cane into some places. In every colony there was a small community, often with a synagogue, and their connection one with another, as well as their virtual neutrality, made their transactions more safe than those of other traders. As may be supposed, they had no love for the Spaniard, and consequently were the main financiers, not only of privateers, but even pirates.

St. Thomas, Curaçao, and St. Eustatius lived by the misfortunes of others. No longer could the jolly buccaneer sell his prizes and booty at Jamaica; he must go elsewhere, and let other places reap the advantage of his free and easy bargains. For it was "easy come, easy go" with him, and the fortune he made was soon wasted in riotous living. This was all to the advantage of the wily Jew, who first haggled about the price of a cargo, and then got his money back by charging enormous profits on the supplies. The rover was as careless as the proverbial "Jack ashore," and could easily be induced to spend his last piece of eight on the luxuries so temptingly laid before him, utterly regardless of the consequences. He had only to go out and capture another vessel to be able to return and renew his jollification.

In war time these harbours were crowded with the shipping of all nations, and many a fortune was made that enabled the merchant to go to Europe as a West Indian nabob. Then there was a great demand for neutral vessels, in which goods could be transhipped for conveyance to colonies where the belligerent flag might bring a crowd of privateers before the vessel got safely into harbour. Even physicians and surgeons made their piles, for there was always more or less sickness on board the vessels, and a hundred dollars a visit was a common fee.

In 1774 began the dispute with the American colonies of Great Britain, and four years later France joined them, thus bringing trouble again upon the West Indies. The first important move was made by the French, who, in September, 1778, took Dominica, on which the English retaliated by capturing St. Lucia. Then a fleet was sent out from England under Admiral Byron, and another from France under Count de Grasse. The French took St. Vincent and Grenada, and every island of either nation was in a state of alarm and consternation. In July, 1779, Spain joined the others against England, on the ground that her flag had been insulted. To this it was replied that she harboured American privateers, and furnished them with false documents, under which they carried Spanish colours. Thus England had her hands full, for the Yankees alone gave her quite enough work, without the addition of these old rivals.

As yet Rodney had not come out, but in the years 1778 and 1779 he pressed his claim on the Government to have a command in the West Indies. The seas were well known to him, and he had his views as to the proper mode of carrying out operations; but for some time his application was refused. Finally, however, in October, 1779, he was appointed to replace Admiral Byron, with supreme control over the operations in the Caribbean Sea, as well as freedom to intervene if necessary on the American coast.

Rodney was at last satisfied, and he left in December with a convoy, the whole fleet numbering three hundred. In the centre were transports and merchant vessels, and on either side men-of-war. Off Cape Finisterre he captured a convoy of sixteen Spanish vessels, and beyond Cape St. Vincent fought with another squadron, and captured four men-of-war, including the admiral. On then to the relief of Gibraltar, from whence he sent part of the fleet into the Mediterranean, and where he remained until February 13, 1780, when he sailed for the West Indies.

Arriving off St. Lucia on the 28th of March, he came upon the French fleet under De Guichen, which he attempted to engage, but was prevented from the want of skill in his captains. The result was that both fleets sailed away from each other without much damage to either, both stating that the other refused to fight. As, however, the French had thirty vessels to the English seventeen, they could have compelled an action; so that, although the affair was not creditable to either, it was perhaps a little more disgraceful to the larger fleet. Rodney was in a great rage. He attributed his failure to the incompetency of his subordinates, who had not been properly trained to make combined naval evolutions. Every captain, he said, thought himself fit to be Prime Minister of Britain.

However, he continued his cruise, barring the way of the French, and driving De Guichen to St. Eustatius to refit. Now he began to teach his captains those naval manœuvres in which he considered them so much wanting, which his assistant admiral, Sir Hyde Parker, did not altogether like. Rodney, it appears, treated all his subordinates as if they were raw recruits, and, while he gained obedience, created a great deal of ill-feeling. But, with all their training, they could not bring De Guichen to fight, even when they encountered him a second time; yet we may presume that the training was by no means wasted.

As if Great Britain had not enough enemies, in December, 1780, she declared war with the Dutch, on the ground that they assisted the American colonies. What a formidable array—the Colonies, France, Spain, and Holland! Yet, somehow or other, she managed to cope with the whole.

St. Eustatius was the great offender among the Dutch colonies. Notwithstanding that the home Government had sent out strict orders to all her settlements not to honour the flag of the revolted British colonies, or to supply them with contraband of war, there is no doubt that they were very loose in inquiring into such transactions. As we have said already, this and other islands were very useful to the belligerents; and, as we have just stated, De Guichen went to St. Eustatius to escape Rodney and refit. This was no doubt a sore point with the British admiral, who barred the enemy's passage to his own islands only to see him get what he needed from the Dutch.

When the news of the declaration of war came out, Rodney was ready at once to pounce upon the offender; and on the 3rd of February, 1781, before the authorities of St. Eustatius had heard the news, he appeared in the harbour. The Governor could hardly believe his ears when an officer appeared to demand the surrender of the island to His Majesty of Great Britain, but being entirely unprepared, and quite unfitted to cope with such a force, he was obliged to surrender at discretion.

Here was the opportunity for revenge, and Rodney embraced it. Even his best friends could hardly excuse the arbitrary doings which followed, and which were stigmatised as unworthy and almost dishonourable to a British admiral. Being determined to root out this nest of contrabandists, he confiscated all the property of the inhabitants, and ordered them to quit the island. The harbour was filled with shipping, and the stores with goods, the vessels numbering two hundred and fifty, and the contents of the stores worth about three million pounds. Here was indeed a disaster to the Jews, not only of St. Eustatius, but even of British islands, for they were all in correspondence. Rodney went so far as to say that many of the English merchants ought to have been hanged, for it was through their means, and the help of this neutral port, that the enemy were able to carry on the war.

The people were astonished at such unheard-of treatment. Never before had such a thing happened, except in the raids of buccaneers and pirates. The Jews petitioned Rodney and General Vaughan to rescind their decision. They had received orders to give up the keys of their stores and inventories of the goods in them, as well as household furniture and plate; then they were to prepare themselves to quit the island. Such orders from British commanders, whose principal characteristics were mercy and humanity, had distressed them in the extreme, so that their families were absolutely in despair.

This appeal had no effect, even when it was supported by some of the British officers, and such an auction now began as was never known before. The news reached Barbados and the other islands, and down came a horde of speculators, prepared to make their fortunes at once if possible. Such a haul did not occur every day, and they intended to take advantage of it. Thousands of bales of goods were brought out and sold, without either seller or buyer knowing anything of their contents. They might contain rich silks and velvets or the cheapest slave clothing. It was a grand lottery in which every bidder got a prize, although they were in some cases of little value. No one needed to despair of a bargain, however, for there was so much to sell as compared with the number of purchasers, that everything went cheap. Some few got bitten, but in the end hardly a tithe of the value of the goods was obtained.

While this was going on at St. Eustatius, some Bristol privateers got information of the outbreak of hostilities, and pounced upon Demerara and Berbice, where they levied blackmail and captured most of the shipping. As usual with these plunderers, they had no authority to capture the colony, nor had they in this case even commissions against the Dutch. However, they put the inhabitants in a state of consternation, until, a few days later, two men-of-war arrived from Barbados to receive the capitulation, which was demanded on the same terms as that of St Eustatius, although neither party knew what these terms were. Nothing was left but submission, although the authorities protested against such an unheard-of manner of dictating unknown terms. The Governor of Barbados had heard from one of the inhabitants of that island that the Directeur-General of Demerara had expressed, at his dinner-table, his fears that in case of a war the river would be plundered by privateers, and of his preferring to surrender to one of the king's ships: for this reason he had sent the men-of-war. This was considered a bit of "sharp practice" by the Demerarians, but perhaps turned out for the best.

Two commissioners were appointed by the colony to go in one of the English vessels to St. Eustatius and arrange the articles of capitulation, which were fortunately on altogether different lines from those of that island. Surinam, St. Martin's, Saba, and St. Bartholomew's also surrendered on the same unknown terms, but the admiral said that he and General Vaughan thought they ought to be put on a different footing. They would not treat them like the other, whose inhabitants, belonging to a State bound by treaty to assist Great Britain, had yet nevertheless assisted her public enemies and the rebels to her State, with every necessary and implement of war as well as provisions, thus perfidiously breaking the very treaties they had sworn to maintain.

The treatment of St. Eustatius caused a great stir, not only in the West Indies, but in England as well. A remonstrance was sent to Rodney by the merchants of St. Kitt's, who claimed that a large quantity of their goods had been seized. Some of these were insured in England, and they considered their Excellencies responsible for their losses, for which they would seek redress by all the means in their power. It was impossible, they said, for many of them to be more utterly ruined than they then were, and they asked that certificates in reference to their property should be sent to England, in demanding which they were claiming a right rather than a favour. In reply, Rodney said he was surprised that gentlemen who called themselves subjects and merchants of Great Britain, should, when it was in their power to lodge their effects in the British islands to windward, under the protection of British laws, send them to leeward to St. Eustatius, where, in the eyes of reason and common sense, they could only be lodged to supply their king's and country's enemies. The island, he continued, was Dutch—everything in it was Dutch—all was under the Dutch flag. As Dutch it should be treated, and this was his firm resolution as a British admiral, who had no view whatever but to do his duty to his king and country.

Two merchants from St. Eustatius went to London, where they were examined by the Attorney and Solicitor-Generals. They clamoured for justice, and got it, for one of them was committed on a charge of high treason for corresponding with the American agent at Amsterdam, and for furnishing the Americans with military stores and ammunition. Several attempts were made to injure Rodney with the king, but the blow on the enemy was so severe that His Majesty would not listen to the detractors. It is said that a cry of rage went up from the French and American colonies, and that Rodney gloried in his triumph. He was undoubtedly inclined to ride rough-shod over everybody and everything, but as long as he was successful, only the enemy complained.

But the trouble was not yet over, for the merchants of St. Kitt's sent lawyers to file their claims in the Admiralty Courts. Then St. Eustatius was recaptured for Holland by the French, and the tide turned against the admiral. Now was the time to attack him, and his enemies took advantage of it. The mob that threw up their caps and shouted for joy at the glorious news of the capture, now lifted their hands in horror at Rodney's misdeeds. Even his friend Hood was guilty of the meanness of charging his comrade with carrying off vast sums of money, and never accounting for them. Rodney was recalled to England, where he arrived on the 19th of September, 1781, in ill-health, and rather downspirited. In December Burke moved the House of Commons for a committee to inquire into the affair, but although he pressed the motion with all his powers of oratory it was rejected.

Meanwhile the French were turning the tables upon the late victors and having their revenge for the disasters which had fallen upon them. This led to Rodney being again consulted, with the result that on the 19th of February, 1782, he arrived in Barbados with twelve ships of the line. This was the most critical period during the whole war. On the 19th of October previous, Lord Cornwallis had surrendered to the Americans at Yorktown, and this disaster was followed not only by the loss of the West Indian captures, but of the British colonies of St. Kitt's, Nevis, Montserrat, Dominica, and St. Vincent. It was by the special request of the king that Rodney had been again sent out, and before his departure he declared that either the French admiral or himself should be captured. Lord Sandwich, to impress him the more, on the eve of his departure said: "The fate of this Empire is in your hands, and I have no wish that it should be in those of any other."

Meanwhile the Count de Grasse was at Martinique, preparing a large fleet for the final reduction of the British by conquering Jamaica. He was expecting large reinforcements of French vessels and troops, which Rodney tried unsuccessfully to cut off. On the 8th of April the French were reported as having sailed for Hispaniola, where they were to be joined by a Spanish contingent, and Rodney at once sailed in pursuit. The result was that, at last, on the 12th, a decisive victory was gained off Dominica. Admiral de Grasse was captured, many of his fleet destroyed, and the whole expedition broken up. The British West Indies were thus saved, and the people of Jamaica erected a statue to the gallant admiral. Rodney, in concluding his despatch giving the account, said it was his most ardent wish that the British flag should for ever float in every part of the globe, and there is no doubt that this triumph conduced to such an end. It stands prominently forth as the greatest sea fight of the age, and was only eclipsed by those of Nelson, who we may state received much of his naval training in the West Indies.

In January, 1783, peace was again restored. Great Britain lost her American colonies, restored those she had taken from France and Holland, and got back her own, except the island of Tobago, which was ceded to France. From Spain she got the right to cut logwood between the rivers Hondo and Belize, on the understanding that all other places on the coasts of Central America should be abandoned, and that no forts be erected on the concession.

For ten years there was peace, and during that time the planting colonies were developed to a wonderful extent, while those dependent on the contraband traffic became much depressed. The English settlements increased in value so much, that in 1788 they were calculated to have under cultivation two million and a half acres, with five hundred and sixty thousand slaves. These were the palmy days of the slave-trade, when the importations leapt up year after year, with a corresponding increase in the export of produce. The property was valued at over eighty-six millions sterling, Jamaica coming first, but nearly every other island flourishing to an extent hardly credible to those who have only seen them after their downfall.

What Jamaica was to the English, the western portion of Hispaniola became to the French, and even Spain increased her productions, now that things had become settled, and treasure seeking less remunerative. Altogether, the period from this time, to the end of the century, may be considered as the planter's best days, and the "good old times" of which we hear so much but find it so difficult to precisely indicate.

On the 1st of February, 1793, peace was again broken by the French Convention, the declaration of war being made against England and Holland. Thus began that struggle which seemed interminable at the time, and which actually lasted twenty-two years. As usual the West Indies suffered, but this time they were not quite so much the scene of contention as they had been formerly. Tobago was captured from the French on the 15th of April, but during the remainder of the year little was done. In January, 1794, however, Admiral Sir John Jervis arrived at Barbados, and in the following month took Martinique after a severe struggle. Then he went on to St. Lucia, which also surrendered, and before the end of April Guadeloupe fell. Then came reverses; a French fleet arrived, and all were recaptured.

Meanwhile France had invaded Holland, and established a sister republic on her own lines, rendering it necessary for the Stadtholder, the Prince of Orange, to fly off to England. From Kew, where the king had given him a residence, he wrote letters to all the Dutch colonies, asking the authorities to place them in the hands of the British, and treat people of that nationality as friends and allies. With these despatches British fleets were sent to all the possessions of Holland, but only one or two obeyed the command, the result being that the others had to be taken by force, until hardly a Dutch colony existed in any part of the world.

In October, 1796, Spain joined France on the ground that the British, in their operations against the enemy, had injured her in several ways. One of the reasons given was so absurd that we can hardly conceive it to have been put forth seriously. Great Britain had captured Demerara, and this put her in a situation to possess positions of greater importance. Spain, however, got nothing by her taking up the quarrel, for her trade was absolutely swept from the seas, and communication with America almost cut off. This state of things became so troublesome that for the first time in her history neutral vessels were permitted to trade in her American colonies. She also lost the island of Trinidad, which had remained in her possession since the days of Ralegh.

Soon the whole of the West Indies and Spanish Main were virtually under the control of Great Britain, little opportunity being given to her enemies of crossing the Atlantic. No longer could the Caribbean Sea be the scene of the great struggle—the forces of the combatants were wanted nearer home. Now again came the harvest of the little island of St. Thomas, until Denmark was also numbered among the enemies of the "Queen of the Seas." Then the United States came to get her pickings as a neutral, which gave such an impetus to her ship-building and commerce, that later the seamen trained under such auspices became formidable rivals to the British.

The colonists did not altogether dislike this great war. True, freights and insurances were very high, but then the prices of produce were high also. There was a spice of danger in every voyage, but after all the risk was not so very great until the vessels came into the Channel. Then there was a convoy to protect them, and they might even get prize money by capturing traders of the enemy. Every vessel went armed, and many a privateer of the enemy got severely beaten by a gallant body of merchant seamen and passengers. This was a glorious time for the British navy, but the fleets in the West Indies had little to do after the beginning of the war. There was a great disturbance on the island of Hispaniola, a riot in Grenada, troubles in the French islands, and a few skirmishes here and there, but nothing of much consequence to the British.

There were many small difficulties of course, and the navigation laws had to be relaxed generally in favour of neutrals, as otherwise provisions would have been scarce. The Dutch were not altogether displeased with British rule, for Curaçao, which had not been conquered, was captured from its French garrison in 1800, at the request of the inhabitants, whose trade had been entirely stopped. Then the Spanish colonies came to an arrangement by which much of their produce went through British hands, and this prevented the neutrals from getting everything.

In 1802 the peace of Amiens gave France a rest for about ten months, when she got back her own and the Dutch colonies, leaving Trinidad as an addition to those of Great Britain. Hardly, however, had they taken possession, when the treaty was broken, and the British were again in their midst. A great deal of the work which had been undone by the peace had now to be undertaken afresh, but it was ultimately accomplished, so that things went on much the same as before.

The year 1805 was notable for Nelson's trip across the Atlantic in search of the French fleet, which however fled before him and got back to Europe. The same year also saw the heroic defence of "H.M.S." Diamond Rock, which however was not a ship, but an improvised fortress, which after a long struggle was obliged to capitulate. Hundreds of gallant exploits were performed in the West Indies by both English and French, and thus the war went on year after year, until it became something to be calculated for in commercial transactions. People began to look upon it almost as a natural state of things, and fathers told their children that they had peace on one occasion long ago for as many as ten years.

The British had undoubtedly become very arrogant. Their position on the sea was so supreme that they did much as they pleased with the few neutrals. This sort of thing did not suit the North American traders, who were Englishmen also, and like their forefathers resented any interference whatever. It resulted, therefore, that the United States declared war in January, 1813, and made the planters understand what took place "when Greek met Greek." Almost immediately every colony was pestered and worried by a number of fast-sailing schooners, as dangerous in a sense as had once been the fly-boats of the buccaneers. The heavy sugar boats going from plantation to port were captured in great numbers, and some of the harbours actually blockaded by the "Saucy Jack," the "Hornet," and other audacious Yankee craft with names as suggestive of their characters. Then, indeed, the West Indies were roused from their apathy—war was actually at their doors. However, peace came at last, and after 1815 it might be expected that the islands would go on prospering and to prosper.

Such, however, was not the case. In 1807 a great difficulty had come upon them by the abolition of the slave-trade, which at once put a stop to all extensions, either in the way of new plantations or of the acreage under cultivation. This was the first great check, and with the fall in prices, which ensued when Britain became the consignee of almost every settlement, caused a cry of "Ruin!" to arise, which has continued with short intermissions down to the present day.

XII

When the French people took the government from the hands of their king and summoned the States General, revolutionary ideas had already come to a head, and the matter of slavery received much consideration. In all the colonies were numbers of free coloured persons, who had been manumitted by their fathers, and in many cases sent to Europe for their education. In Paris they were brought into communication with a kind of anti-slavery society, called L'Amis des noirs, before which they had opportunities of ventilating their grievances. These consisted of civil disabilities which kept mulattoes in the background, and prevented their taking what they believed to be their proper positions in society. The time was fitted for such an agitation, the people were there, and it was only to be expected that their complaints would come in the long catalogue of charges against the aristocrats, among whom were included the West Indian planters. However, although there was little sympathy with the colonists, nothing particular was done as yet, except the issue of the celebrated declaration that all men were born, and continued to be, free and equal as to their political rights. It might be said, perhaps, that this alone gave freedom to the slave and civil equality to the mulatto, but as it did not specially apply to them, little trouble ensued. The planters, however, were sufficiently acute to see the logical outcome of the declaration, and were correspondingly troubled, as they felt that if published among the negroes it might convert them into implacable enemies, and bring on dangerous insurrections. They were soon pacified, however, by orders to convene provincial assemblies, and send representatives to Paris: this they thought would prevent mischief, as their interests could be made known and promoted in France.