I have already stated that the French established their first settlement in the island of Grenada in 1650. They found the island inhabited by the Carib Indians, who, regarding the white men as beings superior in goodness as well as intellect, gave them a cordial welcome, and treated them with kindness and hospitality. The French, well pleased with their reception, gave the cacique a few hatchets, knives, and beads, and a barrel of brandy, and very coolly took possession of the island they had thus purchased. Their conduct in this respect reminds one of the language of the ill-treated Caliban to the proud Prospero:

“This island’s mine, Which thou tak’st from me. When thou camest first, Thou strok’dst and made much of me; wouldst give me Water with berries in’t; and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night; and then I loved thee, And showed thee all the qualities of the isle The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place and fertile; Cursed be I that did so.”

The remonstrances of the Caribs against the wrongs they were doomed to suffer were as little heeded by the colonists as the complaints of Caliban by Prospero. The French were resolute, powerful, and rapacious, and treated the red men with inhumanity. The Indians, unable to contend with their oppressors by open force, fled to their mountain fastnesses, and commenced an obstinate predatory warfare upon the whites, murdering without discrimination all whom they found defenceless. This led to a bloody and protracted struggle for the mastery; and a reenforcement of troops having been sent from France to aid the infant colony, it was decided, after mature deliberation, that the most expeditious and effectual mode of ending the war, and establishing peace on a permanent basis, was to exterminate the Caribs.

These original “lords of the soil” were accordingly driven from their fastnesses, hunted by parties of soldiers, shot down like wild beasts wherever found, until their number was reduced from thousands to about one hundred. Bing cut off from the mountains by a military force, this remnant of a powerful band fled to a promontory on the north part of the island which overlooked the ocean, and, hard pressed by their civilized foes, more than half their number leaped over the rocky precipice into the sea which dashed against its base. The others were massacred.

This promontory has ever since been known as “Morne des Sauteurs,” or the “Hill of the Leapers.” I have stood upon the extreme point of this promontory, where I could look down some eighty or a hundred feet into the raging abyss beneath, and listened to the mournful tradition as detailed by one of the oldest inhabitants of the island. This is only one of the vast catalogue of cruelties and wrongs that have been inflicted on the Indians by the whites in constant succession, from the first settlement of the New World to the present time.

The French, who were long in possession of the island of Grenada, established on the plantations French customs, the French language, and the Roman Catholic religion. When the island fell into the hands of the English, although no organized plan was adopted to interfere with the customs of the slaves, or change their language, the English failed in acquiring the attachment of the negroes, who lamented the absence of their French masters, and sighed for their return.

Early in the year 1795, during the French revolution, a plan was conceived by some white men and five mulattoes, in Guadaloupe, who were aware of the existence of this discontented feeling, to create an insurrection among the slaves in Grenada, and take possession of the island. Emissaries were sent among the plantations, who conferred with the principal negroes, and secretly made arrangements for the work they contemplated. In the month of August, two or three sloops, each containing thirty or forty men, with a supply of arms and ammunition, arrived in the harbor of La Baye, on the eastern side of the island. The expedition was commanded by an active and intelligent mulatto named Fedon, and landed in the night, captured the small fort which overlooked the harbor, took possession of the town, murdered a number of the white inhabitants, and plundered the houses and stores. Runners were employed to convey the news to the different plantations, and the insurrection of the slaves was complete.

Some of the white men of the plantations received secret intelligence of the rising among the blacks, and lost no time in fleeing to a place of safety; others remained unconscious of the approach of danger, and were murdered. Deeds of cruelty were perpetrated on this occasion by the negroes, a relation of which would chill the stoutest heart.

It unfortunately happened that when this insurrection broke out, the acting governor with several members of the council, and some merchants and planters of great respectability, were on a visit to the eastern part of the island. As soon as they heard of the attack on La Baye, and the progress of the insurrection, they left the quarters where they had been hospitably entertained, and, accompanied by their host and some other gentlemen, proceeded to the sea shore, and embarked in a sloop, with the intention of proceeding to St. George, which was the seat of government, and was strongly fortified and garrisoned.

As the sloop was passing the little village of Guayave, some negroes appeared on the shore, bearing a flag of truce, and indicated by expressive gestures a wish to hold a conference with the governor. This functionary, not aware of the dreadful atrocities that had been committed, and hoping that some means might be agreed upon to heal the disturbances, imprudently ordered the vessel to be anchored in the roadstead, and himself and a number of the most influential of his friends went ashore in a boat, and were landed on the beach. A party of armed blacks, who until that moment had been concealed, immediately surrounded them, pinioned them, and marched them away. The boat was seized by the negroes, and a party pushed off for the purpose of boarding the sloop, and securing the remainder of the white men; but they, having witnessed the capture of the governor and his companions, suspected the object of this maneuver, cut the cable, and with a fine breeze, distanced the boat which had started in pursuit, and proceeded to St. George with the mournful news.

The rebel chief, Fedon, collected around him, as it were by a single tap of the drum, an army of some thousands of blacks, and distributed among them a considerable number of fire-arms. Others were armed with weapons hastily prepared; and the great body of the insurgents, being desperate men, stimulated by the hope of freedom and the desire of vengeance, with leaders of ability and some military skill, the insurrection assumed a formidable appearance.

Fedon took possession of Mount Quaqua, a high, steep, and somewhat bald mountain in the interior, and there encamped with his army. The base of the mountain was cultivated, and furnished excellent pasturage for the many cattle which were driven thither from the various plantations to furnish subsistence for his army. This place he fortified, determined to make it his stronghold in case of adversity; and he went vigorously to work in organizing and disciplining his army with a view to make an attack on St. George before the government could receive reenforcements, and thus get possession of the whole island.

The governor and his friends, and other prisoners, principally planters, having been strictly confined for several days, and treated with many indignities, were conveyed under a guard to the camp of the rebel chieftain. Fedon caused them to be brought before him, and after exulting over their capture, and heaping upon them insults and abuse, ordered them to be shot. This sentence was executed on the following day. Only one of the number escaped to tall the sad tale. This was Mr. Bruce, a merchant residing at St. George, who had acted as attorney for the Pearl plantations. When led out with others to be executed, a negro whispered in his ear, “Massa, my capen tells me, shoot you! But I no shoot you! Only make b’live. You stand up straight when I fire, you fall to ground, and scream, and twist, all same as if you be dead!”

The deception was successful. The negro, whose name was Quamina, and belonged to the Lower Pearl estate, was stationed opposite to Bruce. The word was given. Bruce fell with the rest, and imitated to admiration the agonies of a dying man; and Quamina, at the risk of his life, succeeded in saving that of the white man. That night, he contrived to get him outside the lines, conducted him on the road leading to St. George, and left him. Mr. Bruce, after much fatigue and several hair-breadth escapes, reached the town, being the only one among the prisoners carried to the camp who escaped from the clutches of the monster.

I may as well state here, that after the insurrection was quelled, Mr. Bruce manifested towards his preserver a grateful spirit. He wished to give him his freedom, but Quamina, who was a negro of consequence on the estate, refused to accept it. Quamina was elevated to the situation of head-boiler; and Mr. Bruce every year made him a visit, gave him a sum of money, clothing, and valuable presents for himself and wife.

The military forces in the island were not more than were needed to occupy the forts and defences of St. George, where the white population had fled, with the little property they could take with them on the breaking out of the rebellion. Parties of insurgents, commanded by chiefs appointed by Fedon, who exercised absolute power, had the range of the rest of the island. The rebels made a desperate attempt to capture St. George, but were repulsed with great loss.

Affairs remained in this condition for nearly a year, before any efficient measures were adopted by the British authorities to regain possession. At length General Abercrombie, with a large military power, landed, and, joined by the regular forces in St. George, and some companies of militia, succeeded in driving the insurgents from the sea coast to the mountains. He then invested Mount Quaqua, cut off all supplies from the army of Fedon, and compelled him to fight, surrender, or starve. The insurgent chief, with some of the leaders of the insurrection, and a portion of the rebels, attempted to cut their way through the English army, and some of them succeeded, among whom was Fedon. He proceeded to the sea coast, embarked in an open boat with a few companions, and was probably drowned, as he was never heard of afterwards.

The plantation negroes, generally, returned to the estates to which they had been attached, and, with a few exceptions, were forgiven, and work on the plantations was resumed. A number of the colored persons, slaves and freemen, who were chieftains under Fedon, or had signalized themselves by extraordinary acts of cruelty, were arrested and hanged.

One of the most efficient officers among the rebels was named Jack Shadow. He was a free mulatto, a shrewd, intelligent créole, and previous to the insurrection, had resided in the town of Guayave, and exercised the trade of carpenter. With the assistance of his wife, a mulatto, he also cultivated a garden, and contrived to gain a comfortable living. When the insurrection, instigated by the French revolutionists, broke out in the eastern part of the island, Jack hastened to join the insurgents, and was cordially received by Fedon, who intrusted him with an important mission, which he executed with such adroitness as to gain the confidence of the chief, who appointed him to a high command in the army. Jack was one of Fedon’s most efficient officers, and signalized himself by his bitter hatred to the whites, and the zeal with which he abetted his chief in the horrid scenes of cruelty that were enacted.

When the insurrection was quelled, Jack Shadow, although wounded, made his escape, with some others of the most obnoxious rebels, to the woods and mountains in the interior of the island. They endeavored to conceal themselves from the pursuit of the whites, but in the course of one or two years were all, with the exception of Jack, ferreted out and shot when apprehended, or taken to jail, tried, and hanged.

Jack, however, remained in the mountains. A large reward was offered for him, dead or alive; and parties of armed men often scoured the woods, hoping to find his lair and shoot or capture the rebel chief. But though it was known he was hid in a certain part of the island, he eluded all endeavors to arrest him for ten or twelve years, and might perhaps have died of old age, had he not been betrayed by his wife.

It was subsequently ascertained that Jack had erected a hut by the side of a ledge of rocks, which was almost inaccessible to a stranger; and this hut, being surrounded with bushes and undergrowth, and covered with vines, could not be recognized as a habitation by any one unacquainted with the fact. His wife, Marie, remained in her humble cottage in Guayave, and, it appeared still cherished affection for her husband. He was visited in the wilderness by Marie at certain times, and supplied with necessaries and whatever she thought might conduce to his comfort in that wretched abode. At his urgent request, she also furnished him, occasionally, with a jug of rum, with which to cheer his spirits and solace his solitude. He gradually acquired an insatiable fondness for spirituous drinks, and insisted on being supplied, even to the exclusion of articles vastly more suitable to his condition.

The consequence of the indulgence of this habit was soon exhibited. He became gloomy, sullen, and ferocious. He no longer treated his wife, to whom he was so much indebted, and the only being with whom he associated, with his wonted kindness and affection, but, when maddened with liquor, often abused her. Marie bore this for a long time with patience. She still sought his hiding-place at times, and bore him the poisonous beverage, probably unconscious that she was thus indirectly the cause of the changed conduct in her husband. He continued his ill treatment, especially when under the influence of liquor, and after a time the affection of Marie for her husband was extinguished. She began to regard him as the fierce outlaw and murderer, who cherished no gentle affections, but took pleasure in abusing the woman who held his life in her hands, and had labored hard and risked much to screen him from capture and cheer him in his concealment. Her visits became more seldom, and the ill temper of her husband increased.

One night, Marie pursued her devious way to the mountains to furnish Jack with the accustomed supplies. He snatched form her hand the liquor, and took a deep draught. The poison did its work. He became excited, and quarreled with his wife; and, roused to fury by her reproaches, struck her with his hand, seized her by the shoulder and thrust her from the hut, tumbling her over the ledge. Marie rose, groaning with pain, being severely bruised. The cup of her indignation, which had long been full, was now overflowing. She slowly returned to her home in Guayave, brooding over schemes of revenge, and formed the determination to betray her husband into the hands of justice. She called upon Dr. Duncan, a rich planter and a magistrate, and offered to guide him to the spot where Jack Shadow, the daring rebel, was concealed.

Within a couple of hours after the magistrate received the welcome information, he was on his way to the mountains, accompanied by Marie and a guard of soldiers. They entered the thicket on the side of the mountain, where Jack Shadow had taken up his abode. They came to a precipitous ledge of rocks. “Move gently, now,” said Marie, in a low voice; “we are close upon his hut.”

The soldiers could see nothing resembling a hut. With their muskets loaded, and bayonets fixed, they with difficulty made their way through steep, rugged, and crooked passes, and, after a toilsome march, stood by the side of Jack’s habitation.

The sergeant was now quietly arranging his men in such a manner as to insure the captivity or death of the outlaw, when one of the soldiers stumbled, and his musket struck the ground with a ringing noise. Jack, who had just awakened from his drunken nap, heard the ominous sound. He had no weapons, but relied on the security of his retreat and his activity and strength. He cautiously opened the door, in front of which stood a soldier with his musket pointed towards him. The sergeant cried, “Surrender, or you are a dead man!”

Jack made one last desperate struggle for life. He sprang down the ledge, turned aside with one hand the bayonet which was thrust at his bosom, and felled the soldier with the other; but ere he could clear the guard, his shoulder was transfixed by another bayonet, which disabled him, and in a few minutes he was stretched at the feet of the soldiers, a wounded, pinioned captive. Before the sun had set that afternoon he was securely lodged in the prison at Guayave, heavily ironed, and the prison was guarded by a detachment of soldiers.

The trial of Jack Shadow soon came on before a bench of magistrates. His identity was proved; also the conspicuous part he had taken in the insurrection, and the bloody acts which he had committed. The outlaw was condemned to death. His deportment was sullen and dogged to the last. He refused to see his wife, who, when too late, regretted the steps which, prompted by anger and a short-lived desire for revenge, she had taken for his arrest. He was hanged on a gallows, about a quarter of a mile outside the village of Guayave.