Thursday, December 11, 2008

Chapter 12: Resistance to slavery.


Heroes and villains: some views on slave resistance.

Resistance in all its forms was a popular subject for academics in the last decades and most writers about slavery indulged in lengthy discussions about it. For many of them the thought that slaves meekly accepted their lowly condition was unbearable and when they could not find clear signs of rebelliousness, they practically invented them. Sometimes, all acts of slaves that purposely or accidentally harmed the interests of the masters were taken as proof that a heroic struggle for the Dignity of Man was going on. From this perspective, suicide, laziness and stupidity all had revolutionary virtue.

Experts on slavery in the United States were hard pressed to come up with evidence of a heroic zeal among the slaves. A mere three or four abortive uprisings in a slave population of millions over a period of nearly 200 years do not constitute a very impressive record. Especially not, when one compares this with the rebellious attitude of the Caribbean bondsmen. With the help of an imaginative definition, Herbert Aptheker could dredge up several hundreds of ‘rebellions’ in the Old South, but most of them were no more than unsuccessful schemes and mere rumors. The crux of the matter is that many modern authors, most emphatically those of Marxist hue, find it hard to believe that slaves would have been able to live under such degrading conditions without a constant struggle against their oppressors. Unfortunately for them, the revolutionary potential of subjected peoples tends to be greatly overstated.

Eugene Genovese therefore warned against too simplistic a view: “Unable to challenge the system as such, unable to resist it frontally except on desperate occasions and then with little hope of success –they accepted what could not be avoided. In its positive aspect this accommodation represented a commitment, shared by most peoples, however oppressed, to the belief that a harsh unjust social order is preferable to the insecurities of no social order at all.” People with such harrowing experiences as the slaves soon learn to distrust all “utopian nostrumy”. Sidney Mintz voiced a similar opinion: “That slavery is inherently degrading, that it degrades both master and slave, goes almost without saying. But this does not mean that men are incapable of living in degraded conditions, nor does it guarantee that they will wage an unremitting struggle against them.”

For most black writers, however, it is unthinkable that the slaves will not have resisted with all their might -if not with violence, then in some other way. Orlando Patterson, for example, warned not to underestimate the capacity for playacting in the slaves. They may have fooled the slaveholders of the Old South by their contented appearance, but the ancient Greeks knew better: “Never once did they commit the lamentable error of those modern bourgeois historians who confuse the aggressive duplicity of the oppressed with a psychology of servile conformity”. For George Rawick every slave contained a rebel, struggling to get out: “Man … do not move in their own behalf or make revolutions for light and transient reasons. Only when they no longer can stand the contradictions of their own personalities do they move in a sharp and decisive fashion. The victim is always in the process of becoming a rebel, because the contradictions demand this solution.”

Some slavery authors were so eager for displays of a revolutionary fervor by the slaves that they, in the words of Rice, were pushed into “a characteristically American double standard on the violence of the anti-slavery years into the assumption that violence was distasteful when used to defend slavery but excusable when used to attack it.” The most extreme representative of this position was C.L.R. James, who wrote about Haiti: “The massacre of the whites was a tragedy; not for the whites, for these old slave owners, those who burned a little powder in the arse of a Negro, who buried him alive for insects to eat, who were well treated by Toussaint, and who, as soon as they got the chance, began their old cruelties again: for these there is no need to waste one tear or one drop of ink. The tragedy was for the Blacks and the Mulattoes. It was not policy but revenge, and revenge has no place in politics.”

It is remarkable how blandly these authors condone the most vicious kinds of violence by black insurgents, even when aimed at their fellow slaves. Eugene Genovese, who in the beginning of the 1970’s warned the proponents of the ‘burn, baby, burn’ philosophy that it were the blacks who would be burned first and most, in his latest book on this subject not only defended the use of terror against whites, but also against blacks who were reluctant to revolt just because it was politically expedient.

One thing most slavery authors agreed on is the fact that the resistance of the slaves could hardly be called political. Eric Hobsbawn regarded slaves as “prepolitical beings in a prepolitical situation”. Their rebellions did not represent deliberate strategies to overthrow the system, according to Frederickson and Lash: ”They do not aim so much at changing the balance of power as at giving expression on the one hand to apocalyptic visions of retribution and on the other to an immediate thirst for vengeance directed more at particular individuals than at larger systems of authority.” This was even true for the Maroons. Genovese concluded that especially in the 18th century, when Africans predominated in the Maroon groups, their goals were ‘restorationalist’ in character (they wanted to recreate African communities) and only when Creoles gained more influence later in the century “the historical context of the slave revolts shifted decisively from attempts to secure freedom to attempts to overthrow slavery as a social system”. Only in Haiti, these attempts met with success.

Different groups had different ways of resisting. The Africans moved in a sudden and violent fashion: all or nothing, freedom or death. The Creoles chose an alternative approach: they knew the ropes, they could manipulate the rules and they could cleverly undermine the system by gnawing at its roots. This did not mean that they acted more ‘cowardly’: “the African predominance among the Maroons does not indict the Creoles for lack of militancy, but, rather, delineates different paths of struggle”, Genovese maintained.

In this context, some writers came to regard the whole way of life of the slaves as a constant, silent protest against their oppression. Consequently, the concept of culture as a form of resistance could develop. This view has some merit. If the ideal is that the slave is merely an extension of his master’s will, a working robot with no feelings, no ambitions, no pride, then the mere fact that slaves had a culture of their own contradicted this image and signified a manner of resisting the pervasive power of the master. Elkins disagreed with this view because of the pathology inherent in the culture of the slaves, which made clinging to this culture an unhealthy form of adaptation.

Some slavery authors opposed the unfavorable picture painted of slaves in the traditional literature so militantly, that they ended up too far on the other side of the fence. They created heroes where there were none. They claimed, for example, that just the ability to endure is a quality to admire -in a slave: “it is presumptuous in posterity to dismiss contemptuously the methods that enabled generations of slaves to endure their harsh lot in life and to snatch from it a few human satisfactions”, wrote Rose. Others bombarded common thugs and bloodthirsty maniacs into revolutionary heroes. “According to the myth, which does have a strong kernel of truth, every lower-class badman is a Robin Hood, avenging the poor and downtrodden and harassing the Man”, remarked Genovese. No doubt, when a slave killed a white or burned down his plantation (for whatever reason) he helped to undermine the system, but at the same time, these actions “strengthened the slaveholders’ self-esteem and sense of commanding a moral system”. Therefore, anarchistic violence was largely self-defeating.

The level of resistance encountered in the various slave societies largely depends on one's definition of resistance. However, overt slave resistance in the United States was slight by any definition. There were many obvious geographical, demographical and cultural reasons for this, but in the opinion of Stanley Elkins, they cannot explain this phenomenon satisfactorily. He pointed to the necessity of taking the influence of the slavery system on the psyche of the slaves into account. In the Old South this influence resulted in a certain degree of infantilization. Consequently, many of the American slaves displayed the traits of ‘Sambo’: “Sambo, the typical plantation slave, was docile but irresponsible, loyal but lazy, humble but chronically given to lying and stealing; his behavior was full of infantile silliness and his talk inflated with childish exaggeration. His relationship with his master was one of utter dependence and childlike attachment: it was indeed this childlike quality that was the very key to his being.”

On the whole, there was little sympathy for this theory, although some authors conceded that there might have been a few genuine Samboes around. Earl Thorpe wrote: “Any historian who denies that Sambo, often feigned, but sometimes genuine, was one side of the bondsman’s personality is probably guilty of being unrealistic. What is known about human behavior and totalitarian systems calls for a change in some aspects of the slave image which some Negro historians have favored. Since these were their immediate blood and cultural forbearers and in view of the overly narrow image of them which slavocracy projected, it is understandable that they sometimes have put great stress on the neater side of the bondsman’s personality and character. Thus, in reacting against one stereotype, they have been in danger of creating another one, equally false.”

It cannot be denied, as Roy Bryce-Laporte stressed, that the circumstances on the plantations had an “intense mortifying and dehumanizing impact”, but if the slaves had “fully succumbed to those conditions they would have all been zombified or psychologically dead”. On the other hand, he did not believe in the continuous resistance of the slaves, because then “they would have all been physically dead or absent by way of escape, exodus, or revolution”. Neither was the case, so they must have found a workable compromise. Few slaves wholeheartedly accepted their lowly position as their proper station in life. Most of them showed some resistance, actively or passively, but as Genovese remarked: “The practical question facing the slaves was not whether slavery itself was a proper relation, but how to survive it with the greatest degree of self determination.”



Resistance in Surinam.

An uneasy balance.

In the eyes of many slavery authors with a comparative perspective, Surinam slaves wrote one of the most ‘heroic chapters’ in the history of slave resistance. In Surinam alone, Maroons not only created viable communities in the interior, but they forced the colonial government to acknowledge their freedom and independence and they managed to survive as distinct tribes until this moment. Thousands, of slaves escaped into the jungle over the years. Most remarkable, however, is not the fact that so many ran away, but the fact that so many stayed on. The slaves of Surinam did not flee at the slightest provocation. The ties that bound them to the plantations were hard to severe. Many slaves were willing to undergo manifold deprivations in order to remain in their cherished community.

Even if they did not resist their overlords actively, the slaves were not totally helpless. The masters wanted their subjection and unfailing obedience, but first of all, they wanted their labor and they were willing to compromise their principles for a higher production. Consequently, they often ‘negotiated’ with their chattels. Sometimes this resulted in decisions that undermined their very authority (not to punish erring slaves, for example). As early as 1670, the Political Councilors reported that it had come to their notice that “sometimes some planters have negroes who rise up and rebel against their masters, and from fear of losing them do not dare to punish them or bring them in for punishment; [and] that some negroes having received freedom from their patrons wander around lazy and idle and thereby give other negroes a pretext to run away from their masters”. Therefore, the councilors demanded that planters who had been opposed by their slaves would be obliged to turn them over to the authorities for punishment.

There was a perennial tug of war between slaves and masters and although the latter had the power of violence and law at their side, they had to be careful not to lose the battle at the very beginning. Blom warned that slaves tried out any new master. The first few days of an administration were decisive: “When the negroes have gotten a new master, be it Planter or Administrator, the most daring often will try to reach their goal; but having failed once, they keep quiet from then on, and everyone bows to the orders of the Director; all is quiet, in order, and the plantation fares well; but if they succeed, these will play the master over the innocent negroes; make them work for them and serve them, everything is upset, and the plantation fares badly.”

In the opinion of Blom, the slaves should never be given the chance to ‘divide and conquer’. It was vitally important that the owner/administrator and the director never quarreled about the management of the plantation in public. Also, the grootmeester should never allow the house servants to report on the behavior of the director: “not that sometimes when one has taken a man of bad comportment as his Director, it would not be expedient for the Planter; when he is informed of this; but for reason that one can never trust such reports; that if [a slave] has found such a way to get the ear of his master, they will only look up to such a favorite, lose the awe they should have for the Director, and consider him a man, in whom their master has no confidence himself. Once a Director has lost the respect of the negroes, he is not able to govern such a plantation well, but even when he was totally wrong, and the negroes were wholly justified to complain, a Planter should not show his displeasure in front of the negroes.” When a grootmeester had reason to be dissatisfied, he should make the director account for his actions in private and complaining slaves deserved to be “punished immediately and without mercy”. Sometimes, this was exactly what happened. Given the isolation of many plantations and the heavy losses owners could sustain when they left a sadistic director in charge, they often had no choice, however, but to lend an ear to the grievances of the bondsmen.

Surinam slaves clung to the principle that they had certain modest, but inalienable rights and that their masters ought to respect these. Especially when they ignored the rules laid down by the government, the slaves were encouraged to rebel. The authorities could not dismiss justified complaints without courting the danger of widespread unrest, so they often felt obliged to placate the slaves, as they did in the following instance. Councilor Hatterman was dispatched to the plantation La Paix in 1772, when trouble arose between the slaves and the new owner (and former director) Jean Rivière, who accused each other of wrongdoing. He tried to pacify the bondsmen by offering them a soopje but remarked: “if we were in different Circumstances of Time, it would have been very necessary that of two or three of those Cockerels the head was cut off, because [I] attest never to have seen such impertinent Slaves”. Hatterman prevailed upon Rivière to appoint another director, but he refused because he had to satisfy his creditors. The Court of Police summoned Rivière and persuaded him to turn over the government of the plantation to someone else. The slaves were admonished about their misbehavior, but ‘at the request of their owner’ they were not to be punished, provided they promised to obey their new director.

So, even when the slaves were clearly in the wrong in the eyes of the mediators, they sometimes felt obliged to give in to them. When a plantation was located in a sensitive area, the leverage of the slaves was even greater, especially when they threatened to run away en masse: Mr. Tribulon of Timotibo had to promise his slaves 30 acres of new provision grounds and the distribution of the crops from it among them, before they gave in.

At other times, the whites refused to be blackmailed. Two councilors were dispatched to deal with the slave Prince, who was accused of opposing and threatening his director. According to Prince, the director had kicked in the door of a house where his sister lay to recuperate from a bad miscarriage she had suffered three weeks before. He had beaten her with a stick, from which she had still not recovered. Prince claimed to have merely tried to dissuade him. It turned out that the slaves had ample reason to be dissatisfied with the director and the investigators had the impression that they planned to kill him and run off. The accused vehemently denied any such intention. The wise gentlemen thereupon decided to urge the bondsmen to work harder “in the hope that in the future, like on other Plantations, they will receive their distributions”.

Not rarely, the masters themselves appealed to the authorities for help. Some of them were not able to keep their slaves in line and asked for military support to teach them a lesson. The events on the plantation Maalstroom provide an example. This estate had been sold to a new owner and the slaves believed that they would be delivered from the strict government of the old director Ranitz. They let it be known that they preferred Mr. Tekenburg as their new master. A wise choice, because Tekenburg was the owner of a plantation himself and administered several others, so he would have little time to interfere in the affairs of Maalstroom. But alas for the slaves, Tekenburg was on the verge of returning to Europe. The resistance of the slave force had been animated by the old hand Quamina, who “has had the authority over the plantation before [and who tried] to mount the throne again”. Although Ranitz showed himself willing to compromise, the unrest continued and he was forced to ask for assistance. A sergeant and six privates were sent to his aid. When the slaves found out that he intended to put the main culprits behind bars, they took off. Most of them were apprehended soon, but forty fugitives managed to evade their pursuers. Very worried now, Ranitz asked the Court of Police to investigate his behavior and two members arrived to examine the captured slaves. They concluded that these had earned most of the blame themselves and had them soundly whipped. This intervention proved successful, because several days later most of the runaways returned and discipline was restored.

It is undeniable that some directors and administrators had serious problems establishing their authority. Sometimes a thunderous speech by the owner worked miracles, but just as often, the authorities had to lend a hand. These were often hesistent to sent in the troops for fear of escalation. Therefore, they not only ispatched envoys to mediate, but gratefully accepted the intercession of slaves of neighboring plantations. When unrest occurred on Wajampibo (because the slaves refused to accept the authority of the newly appointed administrator Rotarius), the slaves of the adjoining plantation Vossenburg, who evacuated the desperate man to Paramaribo, offered to reason with them. This diplomatic gesture was much appreciated. They were received by Governor Nepveu, who was greatly impressed by their loyalty. Before they could commence their mission, however, the slaves of Wajampibo proved that they did not reject the authority of a master out of principle. When Maroons attacked the plantation, the bondsmen did not join them, but instead tracked the culprits down and caught two of them. Nepveu thereupon concluded that “they hold themselves very well and work well, but do not want to be commanded by Mr. Rotarius”. In the end, the mediation of the slaves of Vossenburg was obviously successful, because their colleagues of Wajampibo were reconciled with Rotarius, who no doubt returned to the plantation and wiser and milder man.

Masters who failed to establish their authority were not always supported, though. When the director of the plantation Cortenduur, J. Snebbeling, asked for replacement because he feared a plot against him, the Court was not convinced that his accusations had any foundation and pointed out that he had run into had similar trouble on other plantations.

In some cases, the government contemplated interference not because planters were too cruel, but because they were too lenient and spoiled their slaves. Governor Texier, for example, was seriously worried about the situation on the plantation Goed Accoord, which was about to be sold. “There is a considerable force of the best Creole Slaves … who however are not used to work very hard, who have been left to do what they pleased, and who have had Whites on the plantation but only Pro Forma, and because this had to be according to the laws of the Land; The administrators have had to use all this Leniency, to avoid upsetting these Slaves, who have always been considered a security against the enterprises of the Runaways for upper Commewijne; If these Slaves upon Sale fall into the hands of someone who wants to Compel them to more Work and another Way of Life by force and severity, one runs the Danger that they become obstinate, and start the same Game as those of La Paix in Cottica, who were like these formerly the bulwark of that river, until having been sold to Rivière, and having been treated badly by him, they started those Extremities that have been so harmful for the whole Colony, and of which the after-effects are still felt”. He needed not to have worried, because the plantation was bought by a former blankofficier, a friendly man who was well known to the slaves.

Although the masters tried to prevent it, the slaves often got the advantage by playing them against each other. If there were several owners, the opportunities multiplied, as is proven by the following case. Abraham Cores jr., married to Susanna van Ortena, reported to the Court of Police that his wife had inherited the plantation Crispinapie, together with Jan van Vliet. When he and his wife wanted to take possession of their new domain, the slaves (encouraged in their obstinacy by Van Vliet, he claimed) refused to acknowledge him as their master and every time he showed his face, he was treated with the utmost insolence. The Court sent two members to investigate and these found that the slaves wanted Jan van Vliet as their sole master. They stated categorically that they would rather die than work for Cores, who was reputed to be very cruel. They promised to be faithful slaves to any other master, but as long as Cores kept coming to the plantation, they would continue to run away. Cores gave in and offered Jan van Vliet the opportunity to buy him out in 10 to 12 years, which Van Vliet declined. He also refused to rent Cores’ part of the plantation, or even to administrate it. Therefore, the representatives of the Court advised to appoint a neutral director who was acceptable to all parties.

These examples support the impression that slaves were sometimes listened to, if they had ‘reasonable complaints’ and that in these cases their resistance was tolerated and appropriate measures were taken -sometimes even to the point of allowing slaves sometimes to see a ‘difference of opinion’ between their superiors. An illustration of this was given by Bartelink. In the 1850’s, he worked on the plantation Onoribo, where corporal punishments had been abolished. Wrongdoers were locked up during the night and it was his duty to release them at four o’ clock in the morning. Once, he overslept and only let them out an hour later. By then “it was however too late for the people to cook their meal and be ready in time to go to the field; they refused to come out. [The director] turned to me and gave me such a reprimand that the ground trembled.” Going without food did not absolve the slaves from the duty to work, though.

The bondsmen considered themselves rightfully entitled to annual distributions, sufficient food and the usual holidays, but most of the time material deprivations were not enough to unite them in a common protest, as the following example shows. One day, the slaves of the plantation Berlijn attacked the bastiaan when he tried to punish one of them. Thereafter they threatened the director with machetes and knives. They warned him that they would bash in his head and retreat into the forest when he did not mend his ways. To show their resolve, they went on a strike and the director was powerless to break it. Instead of going into the fields, they tended their provision grounds. The authorities could end this protest easily because there were only 38 able-bodied men on the plantation. The rest of the 200 slaves were women, children and seniors. It quickly turned out that the bondsmen had every right to be annoyed. They had not received their usual distributions in years (“not even something to cover their humbleness”) and they had not bothered to clear land for provisions now because the director had told them that he would take them to Nickerie, so they considered it a “useless occupation”. They complained that they had always worked well (they even did more than the landsmerken proscribed), yet, if they needed clothes, they had to buy them from the director with timber.

These slaves had quietly suffered material deprivations for years and only when their master threatened to move them, they revolted. With success: the transfer to Nickerie was canceled. Faced with the prospect of being forced to leave their familiar surroundings, many slave communities rebelled. The majority of them elected to follow the safest route: disappearing into the jungle.


Desertion.

Nowhere in the Caribbean were the circumstances so ideal for escaping the plantations as in Surinam. The estates were all situated along the rivers and creeks and extended only a couple of kilometers into the hinterland. Behind them, the unspoilt forest beckoned. Runaways merely had to cross the back dam of the plantation and they were swallowed up by a jungle so impenetrable that they could hide for years without being detected, even when they stayed close to home. If they ventured deeper into the interior, the chances that their masters would ever find them again evaporated. Therefore, it is no wonder that many dissatisfied slaves took this course.

Several hundreds of bondsmen ran away each year. Roughly two thirds of them returned to their plantations eventually, mostly voluntary. Often, they had only been hiding in the cane fields or the coffee grounds because they feared punishments, or because their tasks were too heavy. When the air cleared (of which they were often informed by friends who knew their whereabouts), they generally ventured back, hoping to come off with a light penalty. Other runaways lived, sometimes permanently, in the kapoewerie behind the plantations (these were called schuylders). Most of them kept in touch with their relatives and when they received notice that it was safe to return (for example because a vindictive director had been replaced), many of them did. The weglopers with the most courage and the least ties burned their bridges behind them. They went deeper into the jungle, grew their own food, enticed other slaves to join them, or kidnapped women to establish a family. When a large group absconded, or some smaller groups amalgamated, the first Maroon communities were formed. For their very survival, these waged an unremitting war against the whites.

Often, slaves had to be severely provoked before they decided to leave their plantation and their companions forever. Many famous Maroon leaders had been model slaves before an inexcusable act of cruelty drove them away. Hartsinck told the story of Quakoe, a captain of the Aucaners, who had been the property of Sara de la Parra. He hated her because “she had plagued him many Years, even though he had brought her many benefits, [and] as reward she wanted to cut off his Nose and Ears; this he could not endure, as he understood, that his countenance would be disfigured by this more or less, therefore he did not want to suffer this, having seen the bad figure of his companions, of which one was still with him, and consequently felt obliged, to leave for the Bushnegroes”.

Not only the valued ties of kinship and religion withheld them from running away merely to escape economic exploitation, the forest harbored untold dangers as well. Few slaves dared to flee during the wet season, because then it was very hard to find food and to get about. But even under more favorable circumstances, the runaways often went hungry and had to steal food from the plantations –a hazardous undertaking because they might be captured, or even be shot on sight. Other runaways were forced to live on roots and cabbes for months. Not a few decided to return and face retribution for this reason. If runaways succeeded in establishing provision grounds, there was a good chance that these would be discovered by patrols. The Indians, at first allies, later became enthusiastic bounty hunters, who turned in many fugitives.

Often, other runaways proved to be the most dangerous adversaries. A fugitive could never be assured of hospitality or acceptance. In the 18th century, many Maroon communities, except when they were desperately short of manpower, were reluctant to accept male strangers, especially when they were of different ethnic stock. In the 19th century, most new Maroon groups consisted almost wholly of recently imported Africans and did not hesitate to kill any Creole who dared to show his face. Many runaways therefore preferred to stay on their own.

These factors limited the number of (permanent) escapees considerably, but there were still enough to worry the whites seriously. Innumerable measures were taken to stem the tide, but generally with little effect. For example, the Court of Police decreed that slaves needed written permission from their master to leave the plantation, but there was hardly any control. It was pure coincidence when slaves without a pass were caught and the chances were good that these were not fleeing at all, but were just innocently visiting an adjoining plantation. It was all but impossible to keep slaves from congregating. The planters could hardly lock all of them up during the night and only notorious deserters were treated to a ball and chain.

When slavery was abolished in the French and English territories, many Surinam slaves crossed the waters to the Promised Land. Some were caught, like Dicky and Askaan, who had sneaked onto the English schooner Lady of the Night, but were discovered and delivered to the authorities by the captain. Another slave, owned by Mr. Camijn, was picked up on open sea, put on board of a ship and send back. What he had in mind is not clear; perhaps he believed the emancipated islands were close. Some runaways were captured near the Moravian mission post Saron while building a ship with which they planned to return to Africa. A few lucky ones did manage to reach freedom by the sea: Phillip and his companions escaped in a stolen schooner, despite the fact that guards had been posted.

Masters could do little to retrieve an escaped slave. They had to warn the militia and if the fugitive had committed a crime, or if a group had fled, a commando (patrol) was dispatched. In the absence of tangible success, the patrol usually returned quickly and then the escapee(s) would usually only be found by pure chance, as happened in the following cases. (1) Three slaves of the plantation Marseille discovered a small path in the kapoewerie behind their plantation one day. They followed it and found a cabin, inhabited by a man, his wife and their child. During the ensuing fight, the man was killed and the woman and child were taken prisoner. They were brought to the director of Marseille. The irony of the matter was that these runaways had lived for three years at a distance of only 15 minutes from the military post Vredenburg, where members of the Vrijcorps patrolled daily. (2) The provision guard of Mon Affaire found some cut off plantains one day and discovered a path leading into the forest. He warned his master and three whites, accompanied by two slaves, went to investigate. After walking for two hours, they found a cabin with three schuylders. Two managed to escape, but the third was captured, wounded in several places. It turned out they had been living there for ten years (“which is unbelievable”). All the time, the captive had closely watched everything that happened on the plantation. He was clearly not very eager to return, because the director had to carry him from the forest hanging from a branch like a pig.

Sometimes the owner of a runaway placed an advertisement in the Surinaamse Courant, but this was only likely to have success if the culprit had chosen to stay in Paramaribo, hoping to disappear into the mass. Such advertisements went like these: (1) “The cooper negro with the name of Frederick, reddish of color and marked with G.K., belonging to the widow Rocheteau hiding himself in the city here and probably sometimes working on board of ships, a premium of fl. 50,- is promised to those who can give information on the aforementioned slave in the office of the undersigned so he can be apprehended”; (2) “For some time is absent from the plantation De Twee Kinderen a negress named PRINCESS, formerly belonging to the free ASTREA van SCHANTZENBACH, who catches her and delivers her to the undersigned or Mr. P.E. PEYREYRA in the Saramakka Street, will enjoy the premium of Hundred guilders: everyone being warned not to hide or keep the aforementioned negress.”

Surprisingly, not all masters were eager to reclaim their property. The Court of Police complained that many recaptured deserters incarcerated in Fort Zeelandia had not been retrieved by their owners. These were reluctant to pay the expenses of apprehension, detention and punishment, which could amount to more than the value of the slave. Therefore, it was decided that captives had to be reclaimed within six weeks, or they would be sent to Fort Nieuw Amsterdam to work in chains.

In some instances, a slave had been such a nuisance on the plantation that his owner was ambivalent about the advisability of getting him back, even if he was worth more than the costs. The director of De Eendracht, Mr. Jantzen, reported to his employer: “The Negro Toon is still with the posthouder [government representative with the Bush Negroes] on Sienaba who wants for him a Bounty of 23f & 4 jugs of dram, the Negro is outside danger for [I] have let the Negro Solieman already take out 1 Bullet and the other does not hurt him anymore, if Your Hon. desires that I pay the demanded Bounty for this, so [I] shall fetch the Negro, because if he comes to the fort it sometimes will cost more, and if he is fully recovered Your Hon. had better put him on a boat, that will be the best for the Villain because on the plantation the Negro will never do.”

Slaves who tried to win their freedom were often betrayed by their peers, out of spite or for gain. However, sometimes they would be aided and sheltered, most frequently by other slaves, but occasionally by a vrijneger (who often had an ulterior motive). For example, the free Negress Candace hid the runaway Quakoe (a plantation slave) for three months. He showed his appreciation by helping her husband, a mason, with his work. Candace pleaded for mercy in the Court, claiming poverty drove her to this deed.

The Moravian Brothers seemed to have a ‘good’ influence on slaves contemplating desertion. Convinced that they would receive a just reward for their loyal services in the afterlife and of course not wanting to lose their sheep to the forest, they urged the slaves to stay on the plantations and to try to better their circumstances peacefully. The planters greatly appreciated these sermons. Director Wohlfahrt of Breukelerwaard told a proud missionary that the EBG-influence had changed his slaves a lot, and for the better: “they were a very bad sort of Negroes, when I wanted to punish them in the past, they often ran into the forest in a whole group, now however, this does not happen anymore”.

The ease of escape may have kept the slavery system of Surinam from ruin, because it acted as a safety valve: the most rebellious elements, who might have become the leaders of an uprising, removed themselves from the premises. They also showed the other slaves that their situation was not hopeless, that there was always a way out when life in captivity became unbearable, as long as they were willing to take the risk. It was, however, not always the cream of the crop that made off. Undoubtedly, slaves will have been quite pleased to get rid of some of the worst troublemakers this way.

I have gathered information on about 500 slaves who had to appear before the Criminal Court for unwarranted absence. Most of them (86%) were males, as might be expected. However, contrary to what might be expected, only a minority (15%) could be classified as a nieuwe neger (they had been in the colony less than three years). Most of these did not know the slave language yet. Nearly a fifth of the recaptured slaves claimed to have been kidnapped by Maroons when they were in the forest and 8% (mostly females) said they had been dragged from their plantation by other slaves (males, of course) by force. These figures must be taken with a pinch of salt, since their life or limb depended on their desertion being classified as ‘involuntary’. Many of the absentees (17%) had not run into the forest, but had set forth in the direction of Paramaribo, trying to reach the Raad-Fiscaal, the Court of Police, or their grootmeester to complain about their situation. The majority absconded because of mistreatment. A considerable part (8%, usually nieuwe negers), claimed to have been mainly brutalized by fellow slaves, but with a share of 33%, whites certainly made up a major portion of the abusers. The rest of the slaves had been mistreated by black officers at the behest of the master. The grievances varied from stinginess (sometimes in an extreme degree: Prins of Mr. Ladesma received only two plantains a day) to tortures that shocked even the most hardened judges. Finally, 10% of the deserters had fled because they feared, or had been threatened with, punishment. In most of these cases, the slaves knew from bitter experience what they were running from, but Frinkie, a slave of the plantation Clifford Kockshoven, had never been beaten in his three years of thralldom and had immediately deserted when the director suggested it was time he got acquainted with the lash.

Most of these slaves had fled alone or in small groups, often in the spur of the moment. Consequently, they were ill-prepared for their new freedom and were often very glad to return to the safety of the plantation. It was different when a large group of slaves made off together. Although this could also be the result of a sudden panic (for example when a slave had killed his master during a fight and incited his fellows to run off with him because they might be held responsible as well), most escapes of this kind were carefully planned, and occasionally even advertised in advance. If they were sensible, the plotting slaves made sure they had some food stowed away to tide them over and waited for an occasion when the director would not be able to follow them right away, so most traces would have been lost when a patrol was finally sent in pursuit. Only a few of such planned mass desertions took place during the rainy season, because of the logistic problems. When the flight was not primarily meant as a protest, or as a way to obtain leverage for bargaining with the masters, it was hard to capture these groups of slaves again. They might develop into stable Maroon communities that the whites would get to know much more intimately than was good for them.


Violence against whites.

Because the facility of desertion removed the most dissatisfied, obstinate and ruthless bondsmen from the scene of possible confrontations, actual physical violence of plantation slaves against their master was comparatively rare. It seldom happened that a slave killed or seriously wounded a planter, but (perhaps because of this) these events were etched into the minds of the white inhabitants. In their conflict with Governor Mauricius, for example, the members of the Cabale dredged up attacks on planters that had taken place 40 years earlier, in order to demonstrate the dangers of living in the colony. When a planter was murdered, it usually happened in the heat of the moment. In 1752, Willem van Gorcum of the plantation Cipibo was killed by a slave in the field, who made off immediately. The other slaves had been too far away to prevent it.

The authorities tried to limit the possibilities for violence as much as possible, for example by ordering to keep guns away from slaves, or by forbidding the presence of a blacksmith’s shop on the plantations. Governor Nepveu warned against issuing guns to slaves on many occasions because “they run away with them and thus turn these weapons against us”. The masters had their own reasons to sabotage these measures, however. Many privileged slaves were allowed to possess guns to hunt and others were trained as schutternegers (marksmen) to accompany their masters on patrol. Add to this the incalculable number of axes, machetes and hoes, and it follows that the armament of the slaves was not exactly inferior to that of their masters.

Although the usual rumors about uprisings and killings also circulated in Surinam, most whites do not seem to have been very paranoid. They had little reason to fear overt violence from their own slaves: most slain whites were the victims of outsiders, although occasionally these outsiders were their own former chattels, who had come back to settle scores. Even then, their anger was usually reserved for specific persons. Malouet reported for example: “I have seen the mistress of the celebrated Baron, captain of the enemy maroons, who received from her revolting slave the most touching signs of respect and attachment. This negro only wanted his master, who had treated him with cruelty: he has come ten times on the terrain with the plan to burn everything down; but the mistress and her children were for him a safeguard he respected. He threw himself at their feet, embraced his little masters, and went away without doing any harm, when he saw that the master was absent.”

In rare instances, the white victims were not only killed, but tortured as well. During an attack on the plantation Welgevonden, owned by Abraham Meyer, his son fell into the hands of the attackers and was cruelly slaughtered: “the hands were cut off first, and then the throat, then the Breast was split open and the Heart taken out”. The same fate befell Mr. Hartdegen and in addition, his body was roasted over a fire, reported the Surinaamse Almanak in 1796. Whether it was eaten as well, the story did not tell, but there have been documented cases in which the remains of a slain white disappeared into the stomachs of his murderers. Kappler recounted how in 1832 a patrol in the Upper Commewijne region was ordered to bring some papers from Post Willem Frederik to Post Oranje (which was done every month). The patrol consisted of three soldiers. One corporal stayed behind to defecate and his comrades lost sight of him. He was never seen again. A year later, a group of weglopers attacked an Indian village and kidnapped a girl. The Indians asked for a patrol, which was duly sent. During their search, the soldiers discovered a large village and occupied it. In the debris, they found a uniform, a gun and a golden watch that had all belonged to the missing corporal. Their captives confessed that they had butchered and eaten him.

Like their counterparts elsewhere, the Surinam colonists suspected that their slaves lusted after white women and would kidnap and rape them whenever they got the opportunity. Few deserters seems to have entertained this ambition in real life, although there was a group, inhabiting a kind of ‘robbers den’ near Paramaribo, whose leader liked to indulge in fantasies of this kind. There is no proof that he ever acted them out. In some instances, women were indeed molested, however. When Maroons attacked the plantation of Cornelis Fok in the Para region, they “stripped the Wife of Fok naked (and God knows what they did to her) finally cut her in the cheek with a machete, and let her go”, lamented Cabale member Salomon Duplessis. Since very few of the white women lived on plantations (most were safely tucked away in the capital), there was little chance that they would meet with a fate worse than death.

Poisoning.

Although not many Surinam slave masters honestly feared that one of their slaves would pick up an axe and crush their skull, many were apprehensive about the possibility of being poisoned. “Such suspicious directors then took a child five or six years old from the most influential slave family in their home, as a kind of hostage. Of everything they eat or drink, the child had to taste first. This way they believed to be protected against secret attacks”, Bartelink reported. Not only slave masters felt threatened. Raad-Fiscaal Jacobus van Halewijn wrote to the Society in 1742: “I have said to be endangered by many things, of which not the least is [that] the use of poison by many of the slaves, on whites, as well as blacks, has much increased lately because of overindulgence, and this tolerance has brought the slaves to an unbearable temerity, indeed in such a degree, that one nowadays does not stand, go or eat without fear, and because the investigation of the commited evil, and the punishment following that is vested in my office as Fiscaal, I am exposed more, than others.” Gouvernor Mauricius had a similar observation in 1745: “One of the greatest unpleasantnesses of this Land is, the continuous Fear, one has to live in, for the poison of the Slaves, which is more prevalent then ever. The Lord Commander with his wife and the Lord Collector Couderc, who is lodged with him for the time being, having been unable to find a house yet, have been on the verge of losing their Lives by a plate of soup, which already had been ladled out. Those who are guilty of this, were the Commander’s best and old house slaves. However constant and generous one might be, I confess that these cases scare one. And what can one do, as this Rabble does not fear death, and endures the cruelest torments with a laughing face. Also neither goodness nor badness helps and there are Examples of the most magnanimous masters, who nevertheless have been poisoned.”

Kappler noted that the poisons were all of vegetable origin and left little or no trace. It is likely that many a hated slave master gradually weakened and finally died without anyone imagining that he had been poisoned. Sometimes slaves suspected of such a misdeed were caught. In 1748, a woman was executed for an attempt to kill Mrs. Pater, a daughter of former Governor Van de Schepper and the wife of one of the most prosperous planters of the colony, by putting poison in her coffee. In most cases, the slaves who employed poisons did not aim to kill their master or mistress, but to harm them indirectly by destroying their most valuable property –their slave force. Lans (who did not believe that poisoning was as prevalent as many masters and slaves thought) wrote: “it is terrible, when on a plantation a poisoner hides who, either because of hatred against the master, or, as sometimes seems to be the case, merely because of a desire to do evil, by a kind of monomania, practices his disgusting art on the children”. Stedman also acknowledged poisoning as a plague and he described how the culprits sometimes went about: “they carry it under their nails, and by only dipping their thumb into a tumbler of water, which they offer as a beverage to the object of their revenge, they infuse a slow but certain death. Whole estates, as well as private families, have become the victims of their fury, and experienced their fatal vengeance, even putting to death scores of their own friends and relations, with the double view of depriving their proprietors of their most valuable possessions.” The same phenomenon has been observed in other colonies: McCloy, for example, noted that in Saint-Domingue the slaves “rarely attempted to poison the whites but endeavored to destroy their master’s wealth by killing off his slaves”.

It has never been proved conclusively that these mass poisonings really happened, let alone that they were solely done to hurt the masters in their wallets, but there can be no doubt that some planters suffered losses because their slaves poisoned others, usually because of private grievances. Some slavery writers would like to classify this kind of behavior as ‘resistance’. If one defines as resistance all actions that harm the interests of whites, this is accurate of course, but it is at the very least a sadistic and nihilistic kind of resistance. These same authors like to classify suicide, abortion and infanticide (as well as theft and arson) as forms of resistance as well. Sandew Hira modified this classification by calling these merely ‘defensive actions’, meant to end intolerable suffering. These kinds of ‘resistance’ were exclusively private and were never coordinated into a politically significant form of rebellion.


Destruction of property.

With so many possibilities for escape, suicide was relatively rare in Surinam. Most suicidal slaves killed themselves before reaching the colony: by jumping overboard, refusing to eat, or by swallowing their tongue. In Surinam, the suicides were mostly nieuwe negers, who often took their life only after an unsuccessful attempt to flee. Most Surinam victims died in an unspectacular way: by eating earth and rubbish. It is not even clear how many of them were genuine suicides and how many merely resorted to eating dirt because of a ravenous hunger. Sometimes, it took a year before they had wasted away. Serious suicides would have resorted to alternative measures long before that.

It was quite common that slaves committed suicide after a failed uprising. In Curacao, for example, most participants in the unsuccessful revolt of 1750 hurled themselves from the cliffs, or took their life in a cave nearby. In Surinam, however, this was relatively rare. The rebellious slaves of Bethlehem and Killestein Nova bravely faced their trial and subsequent execution. Only one, the mulatto Dirkje, took his own life. Even slaves caught after performing a capital crime (like murdering their master) seldom killed themselves, nor did most captured Maroons -even though they could expect a horrible execution and had ample opportunities to end their suffering before they fell into the hands of their pursuers. They preferred to show defiance. There were exceptions, of course: one runaway tried to kill himself with his rifle when he was about to be caught, but it blew up in his face and he was badly hurt. He was hung by the authorities.

Two groups of slaves were known for their propensity to commit suicide, but for very different reasons. The Ibo slaves (Calibaries) were easily discouraged, susceptible to depression and often killed themselves by hanging or eating dirt. They were notorious for this all over the Caribbean. For many planters, it was the main reason to avoid buying them. Coromantees killed themselves frequently also, but mostly because of hurt pride, for example when they were accused of a lowly crime, or were punished unfairly. The young slave Jacky of Katwijk, for example, was lashed because he had not rinsed the glasses properly. After this mortification, he went to his master’s room, put the muzzle of a hunting rifle in his mouth and pulled the trigger with his toe. From then on, no Negro dared to enter that room for fear of being haunted. In circumstances like these, Coromantees might just as well kill their master as themselves. When a punishment was deserved, however, they took it in stride.

Abortion was probably quite common in Surinam, but it took place in secrecy and it can hardly be called a form of resistance. Maybe some women aborted because they resented bringing another slave into the world, but most did it for purely private reasons and sometimes even at the instigation of their masters, who did not want to be burdened with rearing young slaves, or to be embarrassed by mulatto offspring. Infanticide was also a hidden phenomenon. It was nearly impossible to prove whether a baby died from natural causes, or because it had been deliberately neglected or killed. It is undeniable, however, that some mothers were suspected by their master, or by other slaves, of having practiced infanticide. Most of the time, the slaves did not take kindly to this. When a mother killed her baby out of desperation, both the master and the Court often proved to be remarkably forgiving –much more so than her peers.

Slaves usually revenged themselves by manhandling their master’s property in different ways. Theft (as defined by the masters) was epidemic in plantation colonies. Surinam was no exception. On the plantations, the stealing of food was most prevalent. When the master failed to provide the necessities, the slaves had no scruples at all to add to their diet on their own initiative. All plantations had provision guards, to keep not only runaways and slaves belonging to adjoining plantations from plundering the provision grounds, but also their own comrades. Since most of these guards were were old men, they were easily circumvented. When caught stealing on another plantation, a slave might be in peril of his life, but on his own estate, he usually got off with a few lashes. In the city, the temptations were much larger. Few slaves were tormented by hunger there, so food was not their main target. [Although there were exceptions: when the supplies in Colonel Fourgeoud’s warehouse continued to dwindle mysteriously, pilfering soldiers were suspected, but in the end, two Negro boys were caught red-handed.] Paramaribo thieves were mostly after money and valuables.

Genovese has argued that by stealing slaves proved that the masters’ low opinion of them (as being a lazy, thievish, untrustworthy bunch) was correct and that they diminished their self-esteem by performing an act they considered morally wrong themselves. As far as Surinam goes, he was mistaken. Undoubtedly, some slaves may have felt ashamed of being forced to steal, but mainly because they had failed to get what was due to them in another way. Blom concluded, accurately in my view, that “stealing is nothing to be ashamed of among them, neither is the punishment they receive for this, when their theft is discovered”.

It may seem that arson was the easiest way revengeful slaves could get even. However, the number of cases of arson is astonishingly low. Upon reflection, this outcome is not so strange. It was indeed easy for a slave to set fire to the cane fields, but only if he planned to run away, because his master would be deprived of (part of) his income and as a result might no longer have been able to provide for his slaves, so they suffered along with him. Consequently, most of the cases of arson on plantations were the work of schuylders or Maroons. These either torched the place to keep the whites occupied while they made off with slaves and goods, or they deliberately burned the buildings down out of revenge, which was usually instigated by a fugitive from the estate. Sometimes, the plantation slaves cooperated with the attackers. The bastiaan of Halifax in the Perica region was accused of conspiring with Maroons to set fire to the buildings and lead away the slaves. The fire was kindled according to plan, but discovered in time and extinguished. The bastiaan was arrested. Plantation supervisors were certainly not paranoid about the danger of being smoked out: when in 1770 an enormous fire laid waste a large part of western Surinam, they believed Maroons had ‘unintentionally’ kindled it.

The inhabitants of Paramaribo were equally vulnerable, but they seemed not to have been unduly worried either. It took the authorities decades to ban the use of tras as roofing for houses and in later years they tried to abolish the use of shingles in vain. In 1832, a devastating fire destroyed a large part of the houses in the Jodenbreestraat, Heiligenweg, Steenbakkerijstraat and along the Waterkant, but even then the whites at first did not suspect foul play. One of the accomplices of the arsonists was later picked up on another charge and he revealed that the fire had been laid by Cojo (alias Andries), Mentor and Present, three young schuylders who hid in the Picorna forest near the capital and lived from theft. They had planned to use the chaos resulting from the fire to plunder to their heart’s content. The damage amounted to 800,000 guilders, so the culprits could expect little mercy: they were burned at the stake on the spot where they had started the fire (even though such vicious punishments had been formally abolished by this time).

Sabotage of work and utensils has been hailed as the most widespread form of resistance. It is, however, difficult to ascertain how much of this was deliberate and how much was the result of indifference, laziness, or ineptitude. The whites sometimes suspected sabotage. When Governor Van de Schepper complained about the dismal quality of the wheelbarrows sent over, the suppliers suggested that the slaves wrecked them on purpose, so they would not have to work so hard. Mostly, however, the masters meekly accepted these problems as the inevitable consequence of employing Negroes. The slaves had every reason not to exert themselves too much and since the masters often had no yardstick to measure their performance by, they usually got away with it. Only when whites engaged in the same job, it became apparent that the performance of the bondsmen was clearly substandard. Also, the slovenly work habits necessitated constant supervision, which the planters often found difficult to provide.

A special form of sabotage was the abuse of animals. Most of this was probably a form of venting frustrations, but sometimes there seems to have been a deliberate ploy to rob the master of valuable property -with a slim chance of being caught. The high mortality among the draught animals of the sugar mills may even have been primarily the result of neglect and abuse by the slaves, who knew very well that they were hard to replace. Slaves also regularly mistreated the animals grazing in the Gemeene Weide, because these wandered into their provision grounds. The Court of Police threatened them with heavy penalties, but also reminded the owners of their duty to fence their gardens properly.

Most sabotage took the form of foot-dragging, feigning illness (a route that did not hold much promise in Surinam though: often, a slave had to be near death before he was allowed entrance to the jaashuis), feigning excessive stupidity, etc. The masters were frequently at a loss and they either resolved to punish anyone they suspected of shirking work (with the result that they sometimes caused the death of a slave who was genuinely ill), or they resigned themselves to a less than optimal level of production.


Plantation uprisings.

Genuine plantation revolts were exceedingly rare in Surinam, considering the circumstances. In most cases, they were limited to one plantation and the rebels made little effort to enlist the help of the slaves of adjoining estates. This was caused by the fact that most of these uprisings were sudden outbursts of frustration and not bold, well-planned bids for freedom.

An example is the unrest on Palmeniribo in 1707. The slaves of this plantation rebelled against director Christiaan Westphal, who, according to their testimony, harassed them continuously. He had shot their pigs and goats (because these damaged the crops), destroyed their boats (because they used them without permission) and had even fired at them when they protested, hurting Charl. Finally, the slaves decided that enough was enough. They took their sabres, lances and guns and went to the director’s house, threatening to kill him. The intended victim was saved by other whites and the leaders of the rebellion were cruelly punished. Whether their complaints were justified did not interest the Court. Waly, Baratham, Mingo (three Creole brothers), Charl and Joseph were condemned to be “burned alive and during the burning, be pinched with glowing tongs, and so be killed in the most painful and prolonged manner”.

The severity of this penalty was brought on by three considerations. Firstly, the white officers of Palmeniribo had repeatedly complained about the insolent behavior of the slaves. Mingo had made a real spectacle of himself after he found his corjaer broken: “seeing this [he] trampled and stamped with his legs against the ground, and pressed his hat against his eyes with both hands, beating against his head with his fists repeatedly”. Charl had wanted the partner of another slave for a second wife, because his own wife was ill (which the director did not condone) and had beaten her and stolen her possessions out of jealousy. Secondly, the day before the aborted rebellion, twelve slaves had run away (eleven were caught again with considerable effort and one died). Thirdly, about the same time, all the slaves of the plantation of David Montesinos had absconded because of his strict government and they had taken everything belonging to the plantation with them. They had offered to come back on the condition that an honest man would be appointed as director, which the owner had been forced to concede to. In this tense situation, the slaves of Palmeniribo had overstepped the boundaries a bit too far and the Court decided to make an example of them.

Most conspiracies floundered. Especially when slaves of several plantations schemed together, they would often be found out long before the plot had matured, usually because they were betrayed by fellow slaves. An example is the failure, in 1771, of the conspiracy led by the bastiaan Frater of the plantation Driesveld, owned by the later Governor Bernard Texier. Frater gathered a group of slaves around him and made them swear a solemn oath to keep silent about his plans. He then proposed to kill the director, steal guns and and gunpowder and run away. One of the initiated, George, went directly to the carpenter David and revealed the plot. David warned the director, who put two of the conspirators in chains. Frater managed to escape, but was later apprehended at the Motkreek. Texier acknowledged that this could have ended badly “had it not been for the Loyalty of the Negro George who notwithstanding the Oath he had sworn with them, had made this known to the Whites at the first opportunity”. He considered Frater especially devious because “he will surely have used his Authority to seduce the others, particularly with regard to the Negro Pierrot, who has always been a good & loyal, but simple and very timid Negro”. While the other conspirators were executed, Pierrot only got a Spaanse Bok.

In many cases, personal grievances caused slaves to betray their fellows. Venus, for example, confessed to the Court of Criminal Justice that her husband Quamie had suggested to her and some others to run away. She claimed she had refused this because she did not want her child to be subjected to danger and she had little reason to complain about her master. She warned her shipmate and landsman Tromp, who informed their master of the plot. Together they went to the governor, who advised Tromp to invite Quamie and his accomplice Coffy for a drink behind the Government Palace. The governor had Quamie arrested there. It became clear during the investigation that Venus had been annoyed about the fact that her mate courted the new slave girl Truy. His intended already had a white lover, who showered her with presents, but she was not adverse to Quamie’s advances if he would buy her some skirts and other pieces of clothing. Quamie and Coffy paid with their life for Venus’ jealousy.


Bethlehem & Tempati.

Even when no betrayal was involved, an uprising might still fail, as is proven by occurrences in the Commewijne district in 1750. In this revolt, conspiritors from four plantations (Bethlehem, Killesteyn Nova, Hazard and Concordia) participated. The ‘brain’ behind the plot was a mulatto named Dirkje, owned by Killesteyn Nova, where chaos had reigned for a while. Dirkje was inspired by lofty visions, though he remained rather vague about the way to realize them. It appears he wanted to get control of the whole Commewijne district, kill all the whites who were guilty of mistreating slaves or resisted his authority and search for a ‘new land’ where he and his companions could live in peace. He did not manage to attract sufficient followers, so he sought the support of slaves from adjoining plantations. In Coridon of Bethlehem he found a willing ally.

Coridon was described by witnesses as the most influential slave on Bethlehem and he was undoubtedly someone with great capabilities. He had enjoyed the favor of his master Amand Thoma for a long time. Thoma had, for example, permitted him to have two wives and had even given him a recent addition to the slave force, the beautiful Bellona, for a spouse. Unfortunately, Thoma fell for her charms himself. Coridon’s two wives did not get along, so this was a good excuse for Thoma to take Bellona into his own bed. He also donated Coridon’s other wife to his rival Hector. Coridon would later maintain that he had not been jealous on account of Bellona and that “he had always brought her to his Master himself at night”. The fact that Thoma had given his other wife Bessolina to a fellow slave was a humiliation that was hard to swallow though. Furthermore, Coridon detested the woman Thoma had given him in exchange. Probably out of revenge, he got involved with his master’s favorite, the Bokkin (Indian woman) Eva.

Because of all this male attention, Eva soon found herself in a blessed condition and (according to the testimony of other slaves -which was however disputed by Eva) she was not sure who the father was. Coridon, fearing that he would be in grave danger if Eva bore a karboeger child, decided to get rid of his master. Faithful slaves warned Thoma repeatedly that Coridon plotted his demise, but he does not seem to have taken these ominous signs seriously until it was too late. By the time he resolved “to do away with him, which the negro shall have noticed”, Coridon was already deeply involved in the plot hatched by Dirkje. They had been able to brood out their plans undisturbed for about three months and were ready for action.

One evening, when Thoma was contentedly smoking a pipe in his living room, Coridon entered with a sledgehammer in his hands and bashed in his skull. Another slave, Gallien, killed the bookkeeper, who had been immersed in his work elsewhere. Thoma had not been a particularly humane master (he was bad-tempered and drank a lot) and most slaves were glad to be delivered of his tyranny. They dragged his lifeless body outside and vented all their pent-up frustrations on it. The corps was mauled with a whip and some slaves pushed it repeatedly into the dead mouth, saying “eat the whip now”.

After these murders, the slaves had no option but to run away. Not all of them were enthusiastic about the prospect of trading in the unpleasant but secure existence on the plantation for the uncertainties of living in the jungle. Slaves of Killesteyn Nova, armed with guns, had to change their minds for them. Eva steadfastly refused to come along, though. Coridon reluctantly speared her life, because he did not want to risk killing his own child. Some malinkers, who would be of no use in the jungle, were left behind as well. The other slaves made off with the spoils, consisting, among other goods, of 30 rifles and some casks of gunpowder. Brashly, they placed the cannon of the plantation on the riverbank to shoot at the vessels passing by.

The sounds of the cannon and the gunshots alarmed the neighbors, who hurried to the scene of the rebellion and immediately realized the danger of the situation. In all haste, a Christian and a Jewish patrol were assembled and started to track down the rebels. These were forced to leave behind their women and children in the kapoewerie behind Bethlehem, where they soon fell into the hands of the militia. Probably in an attempt to get food, the remaining rebels attacked the plantation Wederhoop on the Cassiwinica Creek, but they were repulsed and suffered several casualties.

The militia meanwhile reestablished order on the plantations. Contrary to the plan, most of the slaves of the other estates that were involved in the conspiracy did not join the rebels, but on suspicion of aiding and abetting them, eight slaves of Killesteyn Nova and six of Concordia were taken into custody. The commandoes soon tracked down the fugitives and during the first skirmish with the Christian patrol, the rebels suffered 15 casualties, while 31 were taken prisoner. The Jewish patrol was successful as well: first catching 12 rebels, some days later 15 more and finally another 12. One runaway was killed. The situation of the remaining rebels soon became hopeless: they were threatened from all directions, their best warriors were dead and they had no provisions. They tried to find refuge on other plantations, but were repulsed by the slaves there. In the end, 10 of them were captured on Onobo and 6 on Wajampibo. It was rumored that Coridon was among them, but this turned out to be premature: he was taken prisoner a few weeks later by slaves of Hazard.

At the trial, the arrested slaves were grouped into four categories: (1) those who “actually did the murder”; (2) those “who have known in advance”; (3) those who “have resisted in the forest”; and (4) those who “have been carried along out of fear”. For the accused that fell into the first three categories the death penalty was obligatory and it was executed with the usual ruthlessness. A total of 28 offenders paid with their lives: three were hung from a hook, among them Gallien and Pensé (who had helped to kill Thoma); two were burned to death over a slow fire, while being nipped with glowing tongs; three were broken on the wheel; the remaining were hung. Most executions took place a few days after the culprits had been caught. The trial of Coridon took months, however. He was interrogated at length, because the judges really wanted to know what had driven him. His execution was exemplary: after having been tortured in every “ordinary and extraordinary way” for hours, he was “torn apart alive by four Horses”. His head was cut off and displayed on a stake and the four parts of his body were hung at several places in the savanna to rot there as a warning for the other slaves. Dirkje did not await his fate: he hung himself in his cell a day before his execution. His body was hauled to the gallows and burned there. Thoma's son-in-law Isaac Godefroy received 5600 guilders compensation for the 28 executed slaves -half of what they were worth.

Most slaves belonging to the fourth category got off better. The Court merely tried to infuse them with a ”deadly fear”: they were decimated after a lottery. One of the losers was pardoned because of his youth. After the first execution, Governor Mauricius wrote that “it would be a good policy to be satisfied with the terror inspired by the first public execution here in Paramaribo, and to expedite the other condemned quietly in the river, or have them punished on the plantation: but the anger is too great”.

Eva, the causa proxima of all this trouble, escaped punishment. Soon afterwards she bore a light-colored child, “which is very conductive for her pardon”. She was a real enigma for Mauricius: “I have seen this Helena, who caused all this misfortune. A terribly ugly creature!” The real reason for this drama was not a mystery to him, though: the “detestable mingling of the Master with the loathsome refuse of his Black Slave”.

The aftermath of this tragedy was not devoid of hilarious events. Some months later, it came to light that a slave woman of Thoma, though cleared of guilt by the Court, had been whipped and branded because of an administrative error. This would have hardly been worth mentioning, if Governor Mauricius had not noticed something strange about her sentence: “the most absurd thing is that in the aforementioned Sentence the condemned is banished from the colony, on penalty of being broken on the wheel, and afterwards being sold to the English or others”.

The Commewijne uprising failed because of the inherent weaknesses of the plot and the strong opposition of the whites. Firstly, it had been planned carelessly: the rebels did not make sure that they had enough provisions, nor did they take care that the women and children were evacuated properly. Secondly, they could not depend on the other slaves. Even those who had been involved in the conspiracy did not deliver enough accomplices. Only a few slaves of Killesteyn Nova supported the rebels. Although almost all of the slaves of Bethlehem participated in the uprising, the majority of them did so reluctantly and only because they feared they would be blamed for Thoma’s death just as much as the killers. The slaves of Hazard and Concordia and most of those of Killesteyn Nova not only failed to participate, but in the end they also turned against Coridon and his men. Finally, it was remarkable that the militia acted so swiftly and decisively.

Perhaps the most fatal flaw in the plot was the fact that there was no common vision behind it. Dirkje had megalomanical plans that were shared by few and he was not a charismatic personality. Coridon was involved because of private grievances and his predicament elicited little sympathy with the other slaves. Like most would-be revolutionaries, Coridon did not hesitate to warn his companions that their only option was to fight to the end, but most of them were obviously not very motivated to risk their lives in battle.

The Tempati uprising of 1757 was more successful. It was an unplanned revolt that shook the colony in its vestiges and freed several hundreds of slaves. The Tempati area was dominated by timber grounds, whose slaves had gained extensive privileges because they had resisted Maroon attacks in the past. These included ample provision grounds and large flocks of fowl. They were also allowed to sell the remaining pieces of timber in Paramaribo for their own profit. One of the plantation owners, the Political Councilor Martin, made the fateful decision to move a few of his slaves to his sugar estate in the lowlands. The affected bondsmen begged him not to separate them from their loved ones, but Martin was adamant. On the advice of his director Bruyère, he even sent soldiers to take them away by force. When the slaves got wind of this, they rebelled. They attacked Bruyère, cut off his hand and wounded two soldiers. Joined by slaves from other plantations, they retired into the forest with an army of 150 warriors, accompanied by many women and children. The pursuing whites were overpowered and lost many casualties. These rebels, with some survivors of the Bethlehem uprising and other groups of runaways, later formed the Djuka.


Conclusion.

The slaves of Surinam did not accept their subjection meekly. They were conscious of their rights and when these were trampled upon, they were quick to retaliate. The most effective way was to flee into the jungle, either as a way of putting pressure on the planters, or as a bold move towards freedom. Although most of the runaways eventually returned to their plantation, hundreds of Maroons kept endangering the stability of the colony.

The slaves expressed their dissatisfaction in various ways -mostly by more or less individual protests, like malingering, feigning illness, sabotaging tools, abusing animals, etc. Though these could harm the interests of the planters considerably, they were not a menace to the slavery system as such. Even most plantation uprisings, who were rare anyway, did not present a real threat. Rebellious slaves could always retreat into the forest, so they were never obliged to make a ‘last stand’ against the militia that might have roused the other bondsmen to come to their aid. Consequently, the slave revolts always remained localized. Once swallowed up by the jungle, runaways might continue to harass the whites, but, with the exception of would-be dictators like Dirkje of Killesteyn Nova, it was not their objective to overthrow the Surinam slavery system by force.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Chapter 11: Facing the law.




Justice in Surinam.

The judicial system of Surinam retained the characteristics of the ancient Dutch penal law for a long time. One of the main guiding principles was the fact that for a condemnation either the testimony of two eyewitnesses or the confession of the accused was needed. Circumstantial evidence was not legally acceptable. To get the confession of a suspect, all means were permitted: the use of threat or intimidation, withholding food or sleep, even physical torture. In normal circumstances, the manner of tormenting was regulated, but since it usually was not done in public, the most horrible abuses could take place undetected. An admission under torture did not constitute legal proof: it had to be repeated ‘voluntary’ during the court case. Naturally, when a victim renounced a previous confession, he would be tortured even worse afterwards, but the principle had to be adhered to formally. A truly voluntary confession was considered much more valuable, of course. A second feature of Surinam justice was the lack of jurisprudence. The judges were not lawyers by profession, most of them were wealthy plantation owners or administrators. They decided every case on its own merits, often guided more by their own delusions and prejudices than by sound juridical principles.

These observations hold true for white suspects as well as black ones. The Surinam whites were better off than their counterparts in the Low Countries in some respects. Often, mere fines were given for felonies which back home would have merited a long detention. On the other hand, the penalties could be considerably more severe as well. This was most apparent in the treatment of soldiers. The Surinam planters and civil servants regarded soldiers as scum. They had to be kept in line by strict discipline. The display of a mutinous disposition was unforgivable. Deserters were punished harshly as an example to the others. They were not condemned to death automatically, but in time of war (or slave resistance on a grand scale), they could expect little clemency. A few examples from the second quarter of the 18th century, when the worst excesses were already a thing of the past, suffice. In 1731, five deserters were sentenced by the Military Court to be hung, and their bodies to be left to vultures and vermin. Governor De Cheusses felt obliged to interfere and changed the sentence: the erring soldiers had to draw lots and the two losers would be harquebused. In 1741, several deserters were hanged, while five others had to draw lots with the loser having to face the firing squad as well.

The execution of whites was somewhat problematic. There were no white executioners, only black ones, and to be disposed of by a black was to be subjected to insult as well as injury. In 1739, the whole garrison pleaded with the authorities to let condemned soldiers be shot by a firing squad of their peers, instead of letting them suffer the indignity of being killed by an inferior. The Court of Police agreed, for it had experienced “how the Negroes, who are used here to do Criminal Justice often go to work very unwisely, which creates all the more disgust, when one had to see, that white people were mistreated thus”. They asked for a white executioner to be sent to the colony, but as far as I know, he never materialized.

Not all deserters were condemned to death. As a rule, only the ones who ran off in times of war, spilled blood, or resisted their capture were executed. The others were usually obliged to ‘run the gauntlet’. For example: in 1704, Hendrik Claesse van Nimwegen was sentenced “to run the gauntlet of the whole garrison three days in a row four times, and to be severely beaten with rods, also to be chained to the mill to work here in the fortress Zeelandia a year long from the date of this sentence on, enjoying nothing but provisions and clothes”.

Although there was little mercy for murderers, the worst punishments were reserved for sexual offenders, especially sodomites. Sometimes these were even meted out without the benefit of the Court, as Captain Jacob Corse Visscher of the ship Morgen Star did. He wrote to the directors of the Society of Surinam in 1691 that “the 10th [of July] in the evening the first mate Anthonij de Wilde and one of his cabin boys were brought from here and each in a sack were thrown into [the water at] the mouth of the River because they had had relations with each other”. In official custody such a culprit was hardly better off, as Matthijs de Goyer [a son of the former governor] found out. He was sentenced “to be half strangled and then further scorched and strangled until he will have died”. After his demise, he was thrown into the sea with a weight attached. Christiaan Junkas had been propositioned by De Goyer and, instead of showing holy indignation, had demanded money of him. Not receiving it, he had nevertheless refrained from reporting the ‘crime’, so he was sentenced to be soundly whipped and banished from the colony, after having witnessed the execution of De Goyer. Jan Brouwer was sentenced in 1731 to be tied to a stake and strangled for the same crime, although the Raad-Fiscaal had demanded that he would be “smothered in a barrel of water”. Captain Dirck Swart and his accomplice, also a cabin boy, met the same fate as De Goyer. Not only homosexuality was punishable by death. Jan Laurensen, a forty-year-old soldier, earned the rope for having violated and killed a cabriet (goat). He was not alone in paying dearly for his ‘perverted’ appetites. It seems however, that only (lowly placed) soldiers and sailors were held to such high moral standards: the behavior of neither white planters and civil servants, nor that of Negroes was scrutinized in quite the same way.

The penalties for non-capital crimes were sometimes quite baroque as well. When Aubin Nepveu, a lawyer and the older brother of the later Governor Jan Nepveu, had insulted Pierre Dupeyroux, a member of the Court of Police, the Raad-Fiscaal Van Sandik, who happened to be Dupeyroux’s brother-in-law, wanted him whipped, branded and above all to have his tongue pierced a by glowing awl. This last refinement was the usual punishment for blasphemy, because the Raad-Fiscaal was of the opinion that the members of the Court were “Gods on earth”, so any insult to them was blasphemous. Luckily for Nepveu, Governor Mauricius would have none of such nonsense.

Detention was not a regular feature of 17th and 18th century justice. Forced labor abounded, with the convict usually being chained to a mill. Corporal punishment, banishment and fines (often very heavy fines) were the mainstay of justice. Only rarely, an offending white was put on water and bread in Fort Zeelandia for a couple of days. An exception was the sentence meted out to Lucia Susanna Nawick, who was condemned to 50 years in prison -despite the fact that being of advanced age she could hardly be expected to last that long. Formerly, she had been banned from Paramaribo for ‘scheming’ and for selling dram to slaves, but she had continued her deplorable habits in Para. Later, she had moved back to Paramaribo and had resumed her old vices immediately. The Court felt its patience had been taxed enough. A sentence like forced labor was much more often demanded than actually executed. When Raad-Fiscaal Cornelis de Huybert wanted Joost Lont, who had threatened and insulted Councilor Gerhard Wobma and had cut one of his slaves, to be chained to the mill of Fort Zeelandia for six years, he was merely sentenced to a fine of 500 guilders instead.

The system of justice in Surinam had very much the character of class justice. Rich planters with connections at the courts could get away with practically every crime, while the poor and despised, black and white -sailor, soldier, or slave- had to drink the cup of pain and humiliation to the bottom.

The cases mentioned above prove without doubt that Surinam justice could be quite callous towards whites as well, but there remained, of course, important differences between the treatment of whites and blacks by the law. One of the most important factors was the recognition (included in the slave regulations of 1686) that any planter had domestic jurisdiction over his slaves and (in a more limited sense) also over other slaves found on his premises. This entailed that they had to obey him in everything and that he had the right to punish a slave physically if he refused him respect or obedience, failed to perform his tasks properly, or broke any plantation rules. It did, however, not entail the right to kill or maim the slave, as Governor Van Aerssen established early during his reign. White (and black) plantation supervisors were only allowed to beat slaves with a whip and were forbidden to use sticks or kick them, on the penalty of losing half a year's wages in addition to paying for the damage and getting a fine. Slaves had in many respects the same position as minors, but were nevertheless liable for their actions and had to answer for their misdeeds. As the master was ultimately responsible for any damage his slaves did (since most of them were penniless), domestic jurisdiction could result in heavy expenses.

The primacy of the authorities with regard to the punishment of slaves is illustrated by the trial of Christiaan Bisschop (1733). An investigation by the Court of Criminal Justice (after complaints by his slaves) revealed that he had beaten a mulatto woman so badly that pieces of flesh had fallen from her body and the inquiring councilors also found the heads of two slaves he had killed on a stake. He was forbidden ever to set foot on his plantation again and was obliged to install a director because “notwithstanding that they are his slaves he is not permitted, not according to worldly even less to divine laws to beat them to death, but this is left only to the government.” When bondsmen were guilty of crimes seriously enough to merit capital punishment or maiming, they had to be turned over to the Raad-Fiscaal. In the early period, the Court promised another slave in return for an excecuted villain. Later a sum of money (never enough of course) was paid for the loss of the slave or his full capacities.

When a suspect was the slave of someone else, dispatching him to the Court of Police was even more urgent, for no owner accepted that his property was dispoiled by someone not in his employ. So, when Mr. Gossling, the owner of the plantation De Uytvlucht, caught the runaways Cesar and Bienvenue, who had “molested and violated” the house of his bastiaan, and did not deliver them to the authorities, but instead “arrogating himself the right of justice” had them punished in an “inhuman and totally unpermitted way”, he caused a serious moral dilemma for the Raad-Fiscaal. Cesar and Bienvenue had “in the light of their perpetrated malicious and prolonged desertion and display of violence … incurred capital punishment”, but “against this the gross mistreatment they had suffered now runs counter”.

When an owner viciously abused his own slave, the case became even more sensitive. The Court of Police voiced the opinion that “although an owner never can arrogate himself the right over life and death of the slaves, it is nevertheless of the utmost importance, that the slaves are not led to think, that their masters do not have the Jus Vitae Denecis, and that they could not be restrained, if they were aware that their master could imperil body or life for beating a slave to death”. The servants of the Society shared this view. Moreover, every colonist was convinced that no man would voluntary destroy his own property, so any excessive mistreatment by an owner must be accidental. It was also very difficult to prove satisfactorily that a master had acted on purpose when a slave died during, or as the delayed result of a ‘not unusual’ punishment.

Their superiors in Holland, who had gotten wind of the abuses going on in Surinam and who did not want to be associated with that, exerted pressure on the Surinam authorities. The directors of the Society advised their employees in 1760: “to watch with all vigilance, and have the Fiscals watch, the behavior and conduct of the Patrons and Owners there, in dealing with their slaves, but to treat them as humans and not as animals; castigating them moderately and in case they have committed crimes that merit a more severe punishment than a moderate beating they will have to turn them over to the [Court of] Justice to be punished by them with a proper Punishment as an example to the others: and insofar whites have overacted by cutting off the ears and noses of their slaves, or mutilated them in any other way and have punished them unreasonably or have mistreated them grossly or have even killed them such whites shall be responsible for this before the law, as will be decided according to the exigency of the matter”.

Their views were largely ignored by the planters of Surinam and even by their own representatives, as these lacked the means to enforce such recommendations. The planters behaved as they saw fit and the authorities tried to steer a course between the Scylla of disorder and the Charybdis of unrestrained cruelty. As Raad-Fiscaal Wichers mused: “It will always be a Gordian Knot for the government of these lands to find the right balance, so that on the one Hand the authority of the Master over his Slaves is not undermined, A limitless licentiousness introduced; and the Land exposed to disorder and dangers: and on the other Hand the Slaves are not driven by dispear to leave their master’s property because of arbitrary treatment and severe punishments; run into the forest and together with others like them; because of the hatred against their masters, against all of the same statue and color, seething with a bitter rage, inflict irreparable harm to the Land”.

It turned out to be nearly impossible to solve this problem. Until far into the 18th century, the government did very little to combat the mistreatment of slaves by callous overseers. With the threat from Maroons mounting, however, the conviction grew that the aberrations of cruel and sadistic masters could set the whole colony aflame. The authorities were aware that it was their duty to act as fireguards, but since they had few official representatives in the more remote areas, their hands were tied. Officially, it was one of the duties of the burgerkapiteins to keep an eye on their neighbors, but as they were mostly planters themselves, they were loath to mingle in the ‘private affairs’ of others. Moreover, they lacked the means for effective action. When a witness to cruelty did interfere, it often only made things worse. Therefore, the authorities for the most part only stepped in when law or order were threatened, not to ensure the well-being of individual slaves. Most civil servants were no unfeeling louts and they were often genuinely shocked by the abuses that came to their knowledge, but this did not prompt them to act more forcefully.

Complaints of slaves were often only taken seriously when they were corroborated by white witnesses. These would only speak out against their peers in special circumstances, for example, when they suffered themselves from the consequences of the abuse (a planter who did not feed his slaves properly, for instance, provoked them into stealing food from his neighbors). Not a few planters were sincerely concerned when confronted with the piteous victims of abuse and rightly feared unrest among their own slaves because of this. Sympathetic whites were stormed by complaining slaves whenever they set foot on a plantation. In the 1770’s, for example, the political councilors Bedloo and Van der Mey enjoyed an overwhelming popularity as mediators. A second reason for action might be that the interfering white had ulterior motives. In the case of owners and administrators who denounced abusive employees, these were often very apparent. The law gave them the possibility to sue for compensation if someone had harmed one of their slaves and they were naturally eager to reclaim as much of their losses as possible.

Mr. Lestrade, the owner of the plantation Mon Souci, for example, lodged a complaint against his director Runge, who had beaten a slave to death and, being fearful of the consequences, had run away and hid in the forest. The blankofficieren were willing to testify against him to oblige their patron. The Court of Police decided that Runge had gone too far in his attempts to discipline the slave and had to compensate Lestrade. Repeated offenses occasioned more drastic measures: director Agenbach of Montauban was banished from the colony in 1772 for mistreating slaves (children not excluded).

Some owners even tried to retrieve their money when the director was not directly responsible for the death of the slave. One day Mr. Hieronymie, the director of Anna’s Rust, ordered some slaves to drain the bottom of a sluice and when they did not succeed, he condemned them to 25 lashes. The master carpenter Geluk managed to escape after five lashes. He later came back to the plantation, fetched his gun, returned to the forest and, feeling dishonored, shot himself through the head. His owner Sydow demanded a compensation of 1500 guilders from the hapless director and when he refused to pay, Sydow lodged a complaint against him. The Court of Police did not grant him the compensation and limited the punishment to a fine of 100 guilders.

When a director had the audacity to seriously wound, maim, or kill a slave belonging to another plantation, he could be certain of being denounced by the enraged owner. Director Ossenbrugge of Bellevue once caught two slaves of Munnikendam, Hendrik and Manille, on his premises. He had them strung up and horribly beaten. Hendrik was taken home in bad shape and his director brought him to a doctor in Paramaribo immediately. Manille, who had been put in chains after his ordeal, was sent back to his plantation a few days later. He was wounded so grieviously that he could not speak anymore and although the director, who had just returned from Paramaribo, took him to the doctor as well, it was too late: he died shortly after arriving in the hospital. The administrator of Munnikendam lost no time in bringing Ossenbrugge to justice and in demanding a generous compensation, which was duly awarded: he had to pay 550 guilders for the dead slave, 100 guilders for the doctor’s fee and in addition a fine of 100 guilders.

This had little to do with real justice, of course. The Court did not protect the slaves as persons, only as property of their masters. Nevertheless, the prospect of losing so much money probably restrained sadistic directors somewhat and it gave the slaves a tiny measure of retribution. The crux of the matter is however, that these were more civil cases than criminal ones (although they were dealt with by the Criminal Court) and that the owners had to act in their own behalf. The authorities did not take the initiative.

Although the civil servants were fearful of giving the slaves an opportunity to ‘divide and conquer’ the white front, they were sometimes obliged to lend a willing ear to the grievances of the slaves. Most of the time, mistreated bondsmen appealed to their owner or administrator first, rather naively believing that he would never condone the abuses perpetrated in his name. More often than not, they were sent back to the plantation after a good thrashing. Sometimes, especially when this happened frequently, a grootmeester visited his estate to investigate the charges, but more often, he let the director do as he pleased, as long as he did not kill too many slaves and produced a satisfactory crop. When the slaves realized that they could not expect help from this quarter, they appealed to the authorities; sometimes to councilors living nearby, more often directly to the Raad-Fiscaal.

They were not assured of a sympathetic ear there either, as the slaves of Mr. Bendt, who came to complain about the fact that they were obliged to work on Sundays, found out. Because they had permitted themselves certain ‘insolences’ on the plantation, the Court of Police decided to punish “everyone with a Spaanse Bok, the principal culprits around Paramaribo for reason of Opposition and Disrespect towards their masters”. If repeated complaints reached them, the authorities would in most cases command the owner or administrator to go to his plantation to sort out his business. Sometimes, official representatives were dispatched, because the government could not risk ignoring the plight of bondsmen living in a sensitive area. When 23 slaves from a plantation in the Perica region came to voice their annoyance about the behavior of their master Kurth, they were (with the exception of the rowers) all detained in Fort Zeelandia, but the deputy bailiff and the burgerluitenant of the Cottica Division were sent to the estate to investigate the matter.

In most instances, the envoys decided that the complaints were largely unfounded and then they threatened the slaves with corporal punishment if they did not shape up. To be on the safe side, they sometimes gave in partly to their demands, for example by warning the director who had incited their wrath to govern them with more mildness. Occasionally, they even agreed that the director had overstepped his bounds and recommended his dismissal. When no slaves had been killed or maimed such a brutal director would rarely be indicted for his mismanagement and it was usually not even possible to prevent him from taking another post.

If the misdeeds of his slaves did not harm a planter’s own interests, he was often not very eager to hand them over to the authorities for punishment. Although he would be compensated if they were executed, the payment was usually not generous enough to cover the loss of a valuable slave. If they were ‘only’ whipped, this could endanger their capacity to work, or make them harder to handle. Even if a planter did suffer damage himself, the fear of escalation of the problems often made it preferable to overlook crimes for which the law demanded a stiff penalty.

Many cases featuring slaveholders who had sadistically abused their slaves can be found in the archives, but it is naïve to suppose that all Surinam sadists were white. The planters were children of their time –and that time was still rather brutish.

Blacks could be extremely ruthless towards other blacks. The Moravian Brother Riemer was greatly shocked when he witnessed the execution of a Negro suspected of wisi: “The relatives of the deceased, with their chosen helpers, put the delinquent in a boat, and bring him to a remote spot, where they have already built a pyre the day before. Here they tie him to a thorny tree standing near the pyre, cut off first of all his nose and ears, roast these over a coal fire and constrain him with violence, to eat these whole. Then they cut open his back, rub pepper and salt in the wounds, and drag him with his mutilated back several times up and down the thorny tree, to which he is tied, during that one can often hear his pitiful wails at a great distance. After this they subject him to every possible barbarity, for which the human nature shudders and which the morality forbids to mention. Finally they light the pyre erected next to him, and they let him roast little by little, so the unfortunate must often languish slowly and torturously for several hours more, without awakening the slightest pity in his executioners and the assembled onlookers.”

The Indians showed their foes little clemency either. Commander Laurens Verboom, for example, wrote about the Arawaks who were his alies during the Indian War: “They had also caught one of our enemies who they first wanted to burn alive and then eat … The 26th of December last we beheld that spectacle, they danced with the captive three days long, inflicting in the meantime every possible torture on him, one whole night they have continuously tormented his naked body with torches. Being wholly naked half roasted and scorched, [he] was finally dispatched of with an arrow in his chest and his arms [were] cut off to cook that was the end of this unhappy and at the same time heathenish tragedy.”



The (lack of) punishment of slave abusers.

The authorities took their responsibility for maintaining law and order seriously and this led them occasionally to the point of revenging slaves that had been abused by their master. They were rather handicapped, though: for the conviction of any criminal they needed the testimonies of two eyewitnesses and when a Negro had been mistreated, these were often hard to find. Not surprisingly, the Court of Criminal Justice was adamant in its refusal to have whites tortured in cases involving the abuse of slaves. [In fact, it was reluctant to torture whites at all, except when sodomy was suspected.] Negroes were not allowed to testify against whites, so only white witnesses could secure a sentence. It can be safely concluded that these were not very keen to testify against their peers on behalf of a slave, unless, as we have seen, they had a stake in a condemnation themselves.

Sometimes, the abuses were so horrible that there was sincere indignation in the white community. An example was the case of Jacob Watsch, who had viciously tortured his slave Januari by way of “having cut the tendons of his heels, and furthermore having cut out both his [testicles] with a knife and thereafter having broken off or chiseled off some of his teeth, and then, wanting to pull out one of his eyes with a corkscrew, the apple of the eye emptied, and the eye water ran out of it, so he cannot see from that eye anymore ... his master has furthermore given him a Spaanse Bok and thrashed him with a whip, the scars of which are visible”. All of this because Januari had gone into hiding out of fear of being beaten. Confronted with the physical evidence, Watsch denied the charges categorically and maintained that “Januari had surely been treated this way in other places, because every time the negro had been caught again he heard that he suffered from one or the other of the defects, that have been listed”. Though the Court was little inclined to believe this, it is doubtful that he was punished with more than a fine.

A similar case was that of Hermanus Beeke, a former baker, who had rented a tract of land and played at being a planter there. He sold timber and demanded of his slaves that they cut two vaams (=12 feet) of wood a day. When they complained that this was too much and that they received insufficient food, he slashed the ears of the spokesmen. Furthermore, he had cut a woman named Sophie in her ‘femaleness’ and he had put her in a tube of scalding water with a cask over her head, which she did not survive. The chirurgijn, who examined her body, testified that Sophie had severe external and internal injuries, which without doubt had caused her death. The neighbors of Beeke agreed that he was an incorrigible drunkard and a troublemaker, who chased his slaves away with his aberrations, so they were driven to stealing food elsewhere. However, since none of them had been an eyewitness to the abuses, the Court concluded that there was “no complete proof” of any misdeed, but there were only “strong presumptions” against Beeke. Therefore, he could not be sentenced to corporal punishment. His plantation and slaves were nevertheless taken from him.

Some whites who proved willing to testify on behalf of a slave clearly had their own benefit in mind. Director Schröder of the plantations Meulwijk and Sophiasburg made such a mess of things that two of his own officers submitted written complaints. Christiaan Veyth, the blankofficier of Sophiasburg, declared that Schröder and his crony Degon indulged in overconsumption of liquor and that they “did not behave like humans but like mad and raving animals”. They beat up innocent slaves and chased after them with loaded guns. His colleague Jacob van Dorp of Meulwijk testified that the cook Januari, who had been visiting the plantation Brouwershaven to wish the owner, Mrs. Dahlberg, a pleasant journey back to Paramaribo, had been accused by Schröder of having informed her of the intolerable situation on Meulwijk, in the hope that she would warn the owner. Schröder had Januari lashed so viciously by two bastiaans that he “was fleeced from head to toe” and from then on had him beaten for the smallest infraction. When Januari failed to track down two runaways, Schröder thrashed him so mercilessly with a stick that he collapsed and he forbade Van Dorp to take care of him. The poor cook succumbed to his injuries soon after. This remarkable willingness to testify was not only inspired by reasons of morality. Veyth had gotten into an argument with Degon and Schröder had taken the side of the latter. Even more important, their patron had made it clear that the behavior of Schröder repugned him and that he wanted compensation for the dead slave. In such cases it was possible to get a convinction: Schröder was recommended by the Raad-Fiscaal for “arbitrary correction”.

Often, the testimony of one white was not enough. For example: the master carpenter Zondervan testified in court that Mr. Meyer, the director of Eedenburg, had ordered the slave Primo to be strung up and had him beaten so horribly that he fainted three times during the ordeal. Each time Meyer had brought him to his senses by sticking a piece of burning coal in his mouth. The next day, he had him hauled into the fields and tied to a pole along the road. When Zondervan came back after an absence of two weeks, he heard that the tormented slave had died. The bastiaan of Edenburg, Minos, corroborated this testimony and told the Court that Meyer had forbidden the slaves to give Primo any water or food. Minos had tried to feed him something, but his mouth was burned so badly that he could not eat. In spite of these frank statements, Meyer could not be convicted, because the testimony of only one white, even when supported by those of all the slaves in the world, did not constitute “complete proof”. He could only be fined.

Sometimes, these rules harmed the interests of the white colonists themselves: namely, when slaves were the only eyewitnesses to a crime perpetrated by a white against another white. This is illustrated by the case of the blankofficier Meyer of the plantation Charlottenburg. In a state of intoxication, he had beaten director Heuver half to death and had pushed him out of a corjaer, with fatal consequences. The only witness to this crime was the slave woman Patientie (who had ample reason to resent the defendant because he had the habit of forcing her to share his hammock and raping her). Therefore, premeditated murder could not be proven and Meyer could only be banished from the colony for inflicting grievious bodily harm.

A white could be convicted solely on the testimony of slaves only in special circumstances. These included cases of high treason, when the safety of the colony as a whole was endangered, and cases involving the sale of alcohol to slaves. The fine for the latter misdeed was often much higher than the fine for killing or maiming a slave. Jan Pens, for example, had to cough up 300 guilders for “felonies committed by giving the possibility for drinking bouts to slaves and selling liquor to them”. Christian Crewitz earned a fine of 500 guilders for “having given beer and drinks to several slaves sitting in his house at his table”.

By the end of the 18th century, the rules regarding the admission of testimonies of slaves were somewhat relaxed, due to the influence of Raad-Fiscaal J. G. Wichers. He wrote: “It is true that the testimony of negroes cannot lawfully constitute sufficient evidence but it should be considered that in cases, in which one cannot get complete proof because of the place or manner of the crime, one may then give some credence to presumptions”. Later he added that the testimony of slaves was admissible when it was corroborated by: (a) the “general rumor”, or the testimony of neighbors that the accused was guilty of “severe government”; (b) signs of abuse on the bodies of the slaves; or (c) the fact that such accusations had been lodged before.

Not only was it difficult to get whites to testify on behalf of slaves, but there was also little willingness to interfere when they witnessed acts of cruelty themselves. This inevitably led to tragedies that did not leave public opinion unruffled, but changed nothing in public behavior. The principle of non-intervention was strictly adhered to.

One of the most tragic cases was the death of the slave girl Premiere. Her mistress, Judig Aron, was held in contempt by most whites because of her “scandalous and unpermitted cohabitation” with the much older Jacob d’ Oliveira. Yet nobody cared to intervene when she took out her frustrations on Premiere (who was weakened by a long ilness and could not perform the work demanded of her) and tortured her so mercilessly that her screams could be heard far and wide. Only when this kept going on for days, the deputy bailiff Vriend went to investigate, urged by a free mulatto woman who had witnessed some of the abuse. He found Premiere in a horrible state. Judig Aron had let her be beaten so viciously (by the slave girl Eva) that she was swollen from her waist to her feet and her lower intestine hung from her rectum. She had prodded Premiere in her ‘femaleness’ and anus with a red-hot poker, had burned her all over her body and had wrenched open her mouth to force her to eat. The late intervention of the bailiff was of no avail, of course: she died the same night.

Even when the circumstances permitted action, most colonists were too cowardly to risk antagonizing another white, who might retaliate in an unpredictable way. When the carpenter Samson of the plantation Ephrata was caught on the premises of Geertruidenberg, director Hulzebosch warned his colleague Wagenaar of Ephrata. The latter hurried to Geertruidenberg and had the fugitive strung up with a weight of 50 pounds tied to his feet. After that he had him whipped so furiously, that the whip was shredded. Hulzebosch could not bear the sight and repeatedly asked him to terminate the punishment, but Wagenaar advised him to mind his own business. When he finally released to tortured slave, Samson could not stand up. Hulzebosch gave him a soopje and Samson dragged himself with his last strength to the porch of the kokerom (cooking shed) where he succumbed. When Hulzebosch was demanded by the Court why he did not stop this scandalous treatment (on his own terrain he had every right to do so), he excused himself feebly by maintaining that in the beginning he had not realized the seriousness of the situation. Samson had received ‘only’ 80 to 100 lashes and he had seen young Negroes brave 300 to 400 lashes without any lasting damage.

In the 19th century, white supervisors who had killed a slave did not escape so easily. Director Veeger of La Solitude, who had killed a woman by mistreating her several days in a row, was sentenced to be whipped, branded and banished from the colony. Three other directors, who had been present but did not intervene, were also banished and fined 2000 guilders.

Not rarely, their reluctance to take decisive action against tyrants would cost the colonists dearly. The slaves took justice into their own hands and once they had wounded or killed a hated master, they had no option but to flee into the forest and resist their pursuers with all their might. The slaves of Timotibo, for instance, had visited the Court of Police repeatedly to complain about the actions of their owner. But the wise councilors had contented themselves with recommending the culprit “to abstain from all unbecoming behavior towards his slaves”. The owner was not very impressed by this admonission, but the Court did not dare to go any further because as a result of “the complaints that all who are corrected here do in Holland, the Raad-Fiscaal as well as the Government have become extremely cautious, if not much too fearful”. In 1778, the slaves finally took revenge themselves.



The punishment of blacks.

Maybe the most remarkable thing about the treatment of slaves by the guardians of justice was the fact that the sentences meted out to blacks differed from those meted out to whites (even in the Netherlands) more in degree than in kind. This may not be too obvious when we compare the punishments the masters were subjected to with the punishments the slaves could expect, but, as has been argued earlier, the system of justice in Surinam was very much a system of class justice. Consequently, the courts treated lower class whites (especially those equally subjected to a strict discipline, like soldiers and sailors) almost as harsh as slaves. For the members of all these groups ‘mutiny’ was a capital crime and, in some circumstances, desertion as well. The sentences heaped upon the slaves may generally have been more cruel, but on the other hand, no slave was ever punished, let alone executed, for ‘sexual perversions’ like sodomy or bestiality. The ruthlessness exhibited towards erring slaves was not unique. Most Surinam sentences will have been regarded as somewhat archaic in the heartland of the Low Countries, but they were not considered improper in the more unstable parts, as is proven by the treatment of the so-called Bokkerijders.

The Bokkerijders were a group of robbers and murderers who terrorized a large part of the province of Limburg in the 18th century. They consisted mostly of people of extremely lowly stature, who were heartily despised by the rest of society because of the infamy of their regular trade (skinning animals). It is important to note that Limburg had a very peripheral position during this period, being disputed by Holland and Austria, and that this increased the feelings of uncertainty among the inhabitants. On top of this, they were initially unable to combat the Bokkerijders successfully. This partly explains the ferocious retribution they lavished on any Bokkerijder they could lay their hands on. One can distinguish three phases in the procedures against Bokkerijders: during the first and second phase, torture was common and death penalties not only obligatory, but also executed with such cruelty that they were on a par with the worst excesses in the New World.

In 1743, for example, one of the Bokkerijders was condemned to be “tied to the scaffold by the executioner, with a rope around the neck, and then the right hand, covered with a combustible material and lighted, shall be cut off and thrown into the fire, after which [he shall be] slowly broken on the cross from below, stuck with a knife in the side, and hit on the head with a club four times, and then still alive be burned with the aforementioned cross, as an example and warning to others”. Fellow Bokkerijders were disemboweled before being roasted alive over a slow fire. The bodies of executed Bokkerijders were often hung in iron chains from the gallows and were left there until they had rotted away. During the last phase of the trials against Bokkerijders, the penalties were somewhat more ‘civilized’. Most of those found guilty were simply hung. Anton Blok called this kind of theatrical punishments spiegelstraffen: they mirrored the misdeeds of the condemned. The desire for them started to wane once the central government got a more impersonal and bureaucratic structure.

The situation of Surinam had close parallels to that of 18th century Limburg. The inhabitants felt themselves as being on the edge of the civilized world; misunderstood by the motherland and left on their own to deal with the enormous dangers inherent in being surrounded by a mass of slaves. For a long time, their attempts to stem the rising tide of absconding slaves were largely fruitless. Therefore, they came to believe that only by merciless retribution and making a disheartening example of the runaways (and other major offenders) that fell into their hands, they could keep their chattels subdued. Consequently, the executions of slaves had a strong theatrical flavor. This was most obvious with the execution of capital punishments. They were undeniably orchestrated as a horrifying spectacle for the slaves, who were often forced to attend (there is however little evidence that whites came in great numbers to gloat over the sufferings of the condemned). Unfortunately for the master class, the goal was hardly ever attained. Instead of being shocked by the unsavory proceedings, the slaves rejoiced at the intransigence of the men being tortured.

Herlein has vividly described the execution of ‘a certain Slave’ who had fled from Paramaribo, but had frequently returned at night to conspire with others. He had finally been caught by his master, who had laid himself in ambush with four companions, waiting for his reappearance. He was so badly wounded that his master feared he could not be cured, so he gave him to the authorities to be made an example of: “His sentence was pronounced, that he would be quartered alive and the pieces thrown into the River; he was then put on the ground without chains, his head on a long beam, the first blow that he received in the lower abdomen, made all the water burst from his bladder, without him giving the slightest sound and [he] looked at it himself; the second blow with the Axe he wanted to ward off with his hand, but the hand and the upper abdomen were chopped through, still without a sound; the Slaves and Slave Women laughing about this, said to each other that is a Man! finally the third blow on the breast and heart killed him, his head was cut off, the body further in four pieces, and thrown into the River”

The Moravian Brother Riemer witnessed in 1779 how two condemned slaves, about to be beheaded, taunted their executioner: ”The executioner lifted his axe and chopped off his right hand, after which he lifted the bloody arm very resigned and shouted loudly: ‘Now I am free again, but my arm is too short.’ The only one left shouted to him laughing: ‘Your head will soon be shorter too’.”

Stedman was present at the execution of Neptunus, a ‘young and handsome’ freedman, who had killed the overseer of the plantation Altona (where he worked as a carpenter) and had been condemned to be broken on the wheel: “Informed of the dreadful sentence, he composedly laid himself down on his back on a strong cross, on which, with arms and legs expanded, he was fastened by ropes: the executioner, also a black man, having now with a hatchet chopped off his left hand, next took up a heavy iron bar, with which, by repeated blows, he broke his bones to shivers, till the marrow, blood, and splinters flew about the field; but the prisoner never uttered a groan or sigh. The ropes being next unlashed, I imagined him dead, and felt happy; till the magistrates stirring to depart, he writhed himself from the cross, when he fell on the grass, and damned them all, as a set of barbarous rascals; at the same time removing his right hand by the help of his teeth, he rested his head on part of the timber, and asked bystanders for a pipe of tobacco, which was infamously answered by kicking and spitting on him, till I, with some American seamen, thought proper to prevent it. He begged that his head might be chopped off; but to no purpose. At last, seeing no end to his misery, he declared ‘that though he had deserved death, he had not expected to die so many deaths: however … you christians have missed your aim at last, and now I care not, were I to remain thus a month longer’.”

Public execution remained an important principle, even though the whites knew very well that condemned slaves considered it a point of honor to defy the executioner as best as they could and that the involuntary spectators took pride in the fact that they bore even the worst tortures stoically. This may have increased the sufferings of the condemned considerably, because the executioners aimed to break their spirit before they expired. This haughtiness and contempt for pain was especially characteristic of the Coromantine slaves. It is not impossible that the slaves employed some kind of self-hypnosis to make themselves if not oblivious than at least much less sensitive to pain, but it is more likely that they prepared themselves for their ordeal the same way Indians did: by concentrating on showing defiance.

The death penalty was pronounced for slaves very frequently, often for ‘crimes’ that were only crimes when slaves were guilty of them, like defending oneself against an attempted murder. In the early years, the executions were carried out with a baroque creativity that resulted in spectacles unheard of even in other plantation colonies. The most perverse manner of execution was to hang a condemned from the gallows with a hook through one of his ribs and to leave him there to die, which often took many days. Although most of the criminals dispatched off this way were Negro slaves, at least one was white: a Portuguese sailor who had killed some English colleagues while trying to steal their ship. The most famous case, however, was the runaway Joosje, immortalized by Stedman, who was executed with ten companions in 1730. Wolbers named 11 other slaves that were executed in this fashion (2 of them were female). Such a sentence was not given frivolously, however: all the condemned were quilty of premeditated murder. Another horrible manner of execution was being roasted over a slow fire while being nipped with glowing tongs. Quartering was a favorite during of the early period, either by axe, or, more sporadically, by horses. The somewhat less culpable were (slowly) broken on the wheel and occasionally left to die (more often, they received a coup de grace on the heart). Most of these executions were preceded by ‘preliminary tortures’ that could last for hours. The bodies of the condamned were either left for the birds or (in later times) buried under the gallows.

The theatrical aspect of these sentences was clearly intended by judges and owners alike -even when the execution itself failed to take place. In 1689, Cornelis Snelleman reported that he had quartered one of his slaves and had exhibited the four parts on his plantation. The slave in question had killed a woman and had then jumped into the sugar kettle (out of remorse or fear of punishment). He succumbed to his injuries half an hour before Snelleman had returned on the plantation to execute him. He asked for compensation, which was granted. The head of a slave offender was always cut off and sometimes it was exhibited on a stake. As Mr. L. Chaillet, the owner of the executed slave Leopold wrote, in a letter asking for his head, his aim was “to stick it on a pole and place it on the riverbank of his plantation, to be exhibited there as an example for all such faithless slaves”. Usually, the head was buried separately under the gallows.

The most important reason for cutting off the head was to rob the slaves of the hope that they would return to their homeland after death. Without a head, the departed would either be unable to go back, or they would be forced to wander around headless for eternity. According to Père Labat, cutting off the head was considered to be the best way to keep slaves from committing suicide in the French colonies. In Surinam, it was also the habit to behead suicides, as well as Maroons who died from natural causes. This is illustrated by the fate of an ancient Maroon, called Sylvester. He had been one of the first successful wegloopers, having escaped during the chaos that ensued after the attack of Jacques Cassard in 1712. He had established a village and had ruled there as chief for almost fifty years. He had just passed on command when he was caught. Some days later he died (apparently not as a result of abuse) and he was beheaded to show the slaves that there was no escape from bondage, not even after death.

The death penalty was made obligatory in 1721 for Maroons who had established ‘stable villages’. There were, however, some exceptions: slaves who had been driven away by inhuman treatment would be spared, as would those who had been taken along by others, or had been ‘misled’ by them. When a slave had resisted capture or had shed blood, nothing could save him. The execution of the group of Joosje in 1730 was not characteristic of the usual treatment of wegloopers (two of these Maroons were burned over a slow fire and several women were beheaded). However, this was the first execution of inhabitants of the so-called Claas-villages, whom the authorities had hunted in vain for more than a decade, so they were not inclined to show much mercy. Usually, a weglooper was hung, beheaded, or, if he had killed someone, broken on the wheel. In 1790 (when the Maroon Wars were over), the sentences were ‘softened’ according to Lammens.

The slaves executed in the particulary vicious ways described above were practically all murderers. Remarkably, it did not make much difference whether they had killed a white or a black. Murdering a fellow slave, especially by poisoning, was considered just as heinous a crime as murdering a white. The offender was held wholly responsible for such a felony. When he killed a slave belonging to another owner, for example, his master was not obliged to compensate the loss (as he was in the United States) and the penalty was much heavier than it would be when he, for example, had caused the same amount of damage to a house. This way, the Surinam justice system acknowledged that the life of a slave was worth more than his market price alone (although the judges tended to forget this when the culprit was one of their own).

During the 18th century, the manner of execution became slowly more civilized. Quartering, burning at the stake and stringing on a hook became increasingly rare (although the slaves who intentionally distroyed a large part of Paramaribo by fire in 1832 were put on a pyre themselves). During the latter part of the 18th century, the ways the condemned were disposed off were mostly limited to hanging, beheading and breaking on the wheel. The most likely reasons were that the inhabitants of the colony started to feel more secure and that the influence of the central government increased. By this time, the colonists had managed to ‘pacify’ their most dangerous Maroon enemies. It had taken some painful adjustments, but they could be reasonably sure that they would not be driven into the sea. At the same time, the direct influence of the motherland grew; because of the fact that the Dutch government, implored for help in the battle against the Maroons, got more interested in the colonial affairs and because of the fact that many of the new plantation owners resided in the Netherlands permanently. In addition, the dispensers of justice had become more versed in Dutch penal law. The government preferred to appoint trained jurists as Raad-Fiscaal, not rich plantation owners with spare time, and although these did not decide the imposed penalties themselves, they modernized the procedures. Circumstantial evidence was taken into account and the first steps in ‘forensic medicine’ (feeding supposed poisons to dogs and chickens) were set. Some Negroes even got the benefit of the doubt.

A typical case for this period was the trial against the slave Augustus, owned by Jacob Juda. He had been punished several times in the past, the last time with a Spaanse Bok for wounding an old Negro and wrecking his master’s house while drunk. Finally, he went too far and “disregarding all respect owed to whites in general and His Master in particular, gives himself over to the utmost excesses up to the point of attacking and abusing a white”. He was sentenced as follows: his right hand was chopped off (the usual punishment for a slave who had lifted his hand against a white), he was hung by the neck until death, his head was cut off and exhibited on a stake and his body was buried under the gallows.

Free Negroes were treated with no more leniency than bondsmen were. Especially in case of a capital crime, a manumitted slave was no better off than one still in bondage would have been. The case of Paay, a manumitted Creole, who had formerly belonged to Joshua Pardo and was working as a carpenter on the plantation of Thomas Day, is illustrative. One day, a sheep of the plantation was found missing. The director accused Paay of stealing it and threatened to punish him. They had an argument during which Paay took a gun and shot the director in the back. The wounded man tried to fire back, but did not have the strength anymore and tumbled to the ground. Paay then took his machete, chopped off the left hand of the still living director and slashed his right hand, brow and neck. After this mutilation, he shoved him into a ditch. The director was found there later by plantation hands –dead. At the hearing, it was revealed that some slaves had butchered the sheep and had given Paay a morsel. Some of their colleagues, who had not received anything, had denounced him to the director. Paay was convicted for murder and after being declared a slave again, he was to be brought to the execution ground reserved for slaves, tied to a cross or wheel, his left hand was to be chopped off and he was to be broken alive. After this, his head was to be cut off and displayed on a stake.

The members of the Vrijcorps were not wholly on a par with white soldiers either. For them one of the worst offenses was to part with their rifle. Rabbi had sold his gun to the Aukaner Coffy for 40 stuivers and was not able to perform his duty on patrol. For this offense he was hung, after being declared a slave again. His body was buried under the gallows, but contrary to ordinary ex-slaves, his head was not cut off.

Much worse had been the crime of Neptunes, Isaac and Hannibal. Neptunes had picked an argument with Mr. Van der Mey (a member of the Court of Police) and instead of following orders and reporting to the military post Vredenburg, he had gone fishing in the Wanica Creek. At the request of his wife, Hannibal and Isaac went to look for him and managed to persuade him to return to Paramaribo. On the way, they stumbled upon a Negro with a stack of wood on his head and ordered him to stop. He tried to escape into the kapoewerie and Isaac shot him. Fearing punishment, the companions did not dare to show their face in Paramaribo again and decided to go to Saramacca. They persuaded the slaves Quami and Louis to accompany them, because they wanted them to work on their provision ground. Then they got word that they would not be blamed for the death of Isaac's unfortunate victim and resolved to return to the capital. However, Quami and Louis were now a liability. Neptunes ordered the others to shoot them. Quami was fatally wounded, but Louis was only left for death. When the culprits were already back at their quarters, Louis was found and the truth came to light. The three offenders were declared slaves again, beheaded and their heads were displayed on a stake.

Freeborn Negroes and Bush Negroes could not be degraded to slavery again and they were executed in another spot. Their head was not cut off. The Saramaka Bush Negro Cardinaal (formerly a slave of the plantation Houttuin), who was sentenced to death for abducting two slave women and a boy, was simply hung.

Most slaves that appeared before the Court were not accused of a capital crime. They were charged with less serious infractions: theft (although this could also lead to the death penalty when it became a habit), insolence, failure to do the work demanded of them, etc. Even the majority of runaways escaped the ultimate penalty (making it for the most obstinate possible to try again). For these offenders a whole repertoire of retaliations was available. In the beginning of the 18th century, the following punishment was the norm, according to Herlein: “the criminal his hands tied together with a rope, after having been hoisted up a Tree (or up the Beam of the House to a certain height from the ground) and having been fastened there, has 50 pounds standing on the ground fastened to his feet and these tied together, to prevent swinging and kicking with the feet by that [after he has been forced to confess his sins] he is beaten and lashed … in such a way with a Whip (braided of Water-Pinans, a kind of very though Reed with sharp thorns), that he sooner resembles a skinned or fleeced Dog, than a Human … and when it has been decided that they have been castigated enough, having been released, the torn fleeced skin [is] rubbed with the sharp acid of Lemon-juice mixed with gunpowder, which serves to increase the preceding miserable pains for a short while, helping further to suppurate and wholly heal the wounds, the signs thereof however remaining as Brands on the body”. The authorities did not condone this kind of torture for long. In 1761, the Court of Police (at the request of Governor Crommelin) forbade the whipping of a ‘bound’ slave, but rejected his other proposal that allowed punishment only in the presence of two white witnesses, because it undermined the authority of the master too much. Hoisting up a slave was replaced by tying him around a pole: the so-called Spaanse Bok (Spanso Bocko).

The Spaanse Bok, the habitual form of correction in later times, was only marginally less painful: a pole was stuck into the ground and the slave was placed around it with tied hands, so the pole was clamped between his elbows and knees. He was beaten with guava or tamarind branches, first on one side and then on the other. In an earlier stage the much heavier hoepelstok was used, but such a beating often proved fatal, even when it was applied with restraint. Employing a hoepelstok was forbidden in 1761. The lightest variation of the Spaanse Bok was given in Fort Zeelandia, in the more serious cases, it was done ‘around the fort’ and for the most devious culprits a performance was staged on the principal corners of Paramaribo. There were ‘four corner’ and ‘seven corner’ varieties.

Branding was very common. All slaves were branded with the mark of their owner to identify them, but it was also done as retaliation, mostly in cases of theft. Mutilation was a penalty regularly resorted to in the early period, but for obvious reasons, one could not make a habit of it. Many planters had little objection to cutting off the ears or nose of incorrigible offenders: it did not decrease their usefulness as workers, although it often made them into even more intractable enemies of all whites. For this reason, the authorities were very much opposed to maiming and forbade it in the first plantation regulation of 1686. Nevertheless, the Court of Police sometimes ordered mutilation in a sentence.

In the early period, the severing of the Achilles tendon (for the first offense), or the amputation of a leg (for a repeat performance) was the usual penalty for a runaway. In 1731, for example, Amand Thoma of the plantation De Vrijheyt was given permission by the Court of Criminal Justice to amputate the leg of a slave who had absconded several times. This had, however, the negative consequence of making a slave virtually useless for any work but rowing. Therefore, the less invading procedures became the more favored, although instances of amputation could be found until the end of the 18th century. Lammens identified at least 16 cases of such a punishment in the years 1765 to 1787 (plus 4 cases in which the Achilles tendon had been severed). I have encountered one case in which a leg was amputated at the instigation of the owner, while the Court was clearly more inclined to give the death penalty. Many victims of such a mutilation died shortly after. Most likely because the wound got infected, but Stedman learned of one case in which the amputee committed suicide by removing the bandages, so he bled to death. I have found no proof for the practice of an even more despicable form of mutilation: castration. As has been remarked before, slaves were hardly ever persecuted for ‘sexual perversions’ and when one was found guilty of an affair with a white woman he was quietly disposed off.

A slave who refused to come clean in court was subjected to examination under torture in the early period. At first he was only whipped, but when he proved to be exceptionally stubborn, a weight of 50 pounds was tied to his legs before he was whipped some more. If he was still refusing to confess, screws were applied to the toes and shins (the better-known thumbscrew seems not to have been used in Surinam). Fortunately for the slaves, fire and rack were not employed in examinations. An illustration of the proceedings is supplied by the description of the examination of the dresneger Dikkie: “two shin screws having been fastened and weights tied to the feet [he was] hoisted up and whipped”. The whites firmly believed in the veracity of confessions under torture, because they were convinced that a Negro would never confess to anything he had not done, even if he was tortured to death. In their opinion, torture was just necessary to overcome the reluctance of Negroes to tell the truth to any white. If a slave steadfastly kept denying the accusation and no other proof was supplied, he might, in less serious cases, be set free. More often, he was condemned anyway, because with a slave defendant legal proof was no real prerequisite and the judges rather erred on the side of caution.

During the latter part of the slavery era, especially during the 19th century, the system of punishments changed considerably. The habit of examining slaves under torture died out slowly, partly because “confessions without pain and bonds” had always been preferred. The Spaanse Bok was officially abolished on the plantations in 1784 and although it did not disappear entirely, it became increasingly rare. Corporal correction was mostly given in the form of lashes and the number of them that could be legally applied decreased as well. Domestic jurisdiction was abolished in 1851. After that, planters were no longer permitted to whip their slaves themselves, but had to take them to the Piket van Justitie, where an official would apply the lash for a fee, with special consideration for the women and children. Non-corporal forms of punishment came in vogue. In many instances, detention and forced labor replaced death penalties. Despite these ameliorations, Dutch abolitionists protested the fact that corporal punishment remained an integral part of the Surinam slavery system.

A restricted form of detention was the only sanction the masters could legally use in the application of domestic jurisdiction in later days. The planters opposed this, because they feared they could no longer uphold discipline when they were restricted like this. Before, they had been able to lock up their slaves indefinitely and in any way they wanted: in chains, nailed in the block, in a dark shed, etc. Since a slave could not perform very well in such circumstances, most detentions will not have lasted long, but sometimes a planter became so frustrated that he disregarded all economical gain and locked up a slave for months.


Conclusion.

The conclusion is warranted that while the black population of Surinam on the whole was not treated by the law in the same way as whites, it was more a difference in degree than in kind, especially if one compared it with the treatment of lower-class whites. The principle that masters had domestic jurisdiction over their slaves weighed heavily, particularly in the 17th and 18th centuries. This did not mean that an owner could do everything he wanted with a slave, but the authorities were unable to deal adequately with a sadistic master, or with one who lost sight of his own economic interests. [There is, however, little fundamental difference between their reluctance to intervene on behalf of the slaves and the reluctance of officials (and bystanders) nowadays to interfere in someone’s ‘private affairs’ (especially those going on behind closed doors) to protect women and children from abuse by husbands and parents. Even when such miscreants are indicted, they usually get off with a ridiculously light sentence. The principle of domestic jurisdiction is still very much alive.]

Surinam blacks were punished more severely for comparable offenses and corporal punishment was more often resorted to (partly because they had no money to pay a fine). Putting them on water and bread was not considered to be much of a penalty by the whites (although the slaves thought otherwise). Blacks were believed to be of a courser nature, so in the opinion of the whites they were not only able to withstand corporal punishment better, but they were also less humiliated by it –a misconception that would cost some colonists dearly.