Black Rebellion | Page 3

the ringdoves were as easily shot as if they were
militiamen. Nothing but sheer weariness of fighting seems to have
brought about a truce at last, and then a treaty, between those high
contracting parties, Cudjoe and Gen. Williamson.
But how to execute a treaty between these wild Children of the Mist
and respectable diplomatic Englishmen? To establish any official
relations without the medium of a preliminary bullet, required some
ingenuity of manoeuvring. Cudjoe was willing, but inconveniently
cautious: he would not come halfway to meet any one; nothing would
content him but an interview in his own chosen cockpit. So he selected
one of the most difficult passes, posting in the forests a series of
outlying parties, to signal with their horns, one by one, the approach of
the plenipotentiaries, and then to retire on the main body. Through this
line of dangerous sentinels, therefore, Col. Guthrie and his handful of
men bravely advanced; horn after horn they heard sounded, but there
was no other human noise in the woods, and they had advanced till they
saw the smoke of the Maroon huts before they caught a glimpse of a
human form.
A conversation was at last opened with the invisible rebels. On their
promise of safety, Dr. Russell advanced alone to treat with them; then
several Maroons appeared, and finally Cudjoe himself. The formidable
chief was not highly military in appearance, being short, fat,
humpbacked, dressed in a tattered blue coat without skirts or sleeves,
and an old felt hat without a rim. But if he had blazed with regimental
scarlet, he could not have been treated with more distinguished
consideration; indeed, in that case, "the exchange of hats" with which
Dr. Russell finally volunteered, in Maroon fashion, to ratify
negotiations, might have been a less severe test of good fellowship.
This fine stroke of diplomacy had its effect, however; the rebel captains
agreed to a formal interview with Col. Guthrie and Capt. Sadler, and a
treaty was at last executed with all due solemnity, under a large
cotton-tree at the entrance of Guthrie's Defile. This treaty recognized
the military rank of "Capt. Cudjoe," "Capt. Accompong," and the rest;
gave assurance that the Maroons should be "forever hereafter in a
perfect state of freedom and liberty;" ceded to them fifteen hundred

acres of land; and stipulated only that they should keep the peace,
should harbor no fugitive from justice or from slavery, and should
allow two white commissioners to remain among them, simply to
represent the British Government.
During the following year a separate treaty was made with another
large body of insurgents, called the Windward Maroons. This was not
effected, however, until after an unsuccessful military attempt, in which
the mountaineers gained a signal triumph. By artful devices,--a few
fires left burning with old women to watch them,--a few
provision-grounds exposed by clearing away the bushes,--they lured the
troops far up among the mountains, and then surprised them by an
ambush. The militia all fled, and the regulars took refuge under a large
cliff in a stream, where they remained four hours up to their waists in
water, until finally they forded the river, under full fire, with terrible
loss. Three months after this, however, the Maroons consented to an
amicable interview, exchanging hostages first. The position of the
white hostage, at least, was not the most agreeable; he complained that
he was beset by the women and children with indignant cries of
"Buckra, Buckra," while the little boys pointed their fingers at him as if
stabbing him, and that with evident relish. However, Capt. Quao, like
Capt. Cudjoe, made a treaty at last; and hats were interchanged, instead
of hostages.
Independence being thus won and acknowledged, there was a
suspension of hostilities for some years. Among the wild mountains of
Jamaica, the Maroons dwelt in a savage freedom. So healthful and
beautiful was the situation of their chief town, that the English
Government has erected barracks there of late years, as being the most
salubrious situation on the island. They breathed an air ten degrees
cooler than that inhaled by the white population below; and they lived
on a daintier diet, so that the English epicures used to go up among
them for good living. The mountaineers caught the strange land-crabs,
plodding in companies of millions their sidelong path from mountain to
ocean, and from ocean to mountain again. They hunted the wild boars,
and prepared the flesh by salting and smoking it in layers of aromatic
leaves, the delicious "jerked hog" of buccaneer annals. They reared
cattle and poultry, cultivated corn and yams, plantains and cocoas,
guavas, and papaws and mameys, and avocados, and all luxurious

West-Indian fruits; the very weeds of their orchards had tropical
luxuriance in their fragrance and in their names; and from the