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.