Tula

by Jeroen Leinders

  ‘I don’t know what happened, Speranza. Yesterday I felt so determined that even the master didn’t stand in my way. And this morning I was still convinced we were right. I was certain the big Shon would agree to our demands. But what if I was wrong? What if he denies what has happened and decides to ignore the decision made by the French?’

  ‘It’s too late for that, Tula. Look outside, see how many we are. The whites haven’t even tried to stand in our way.’

  ‘But that’s exactly what’s worrying me. There’s no way back.’

  ‘There doesn’t have to be a way back, my sweet. You’ve rekindled the fire in the people’s hearts. You have right on your side. We’re doing nothing wrong, Tula. And when we get to the city you’ll have all the time in the world to say what you have to say.’

  Tula smiles. ‘You’re right, of course. Tomorrow we go to the city and meet with the big Shon. He’s bound to agree with us. What is there to worry about?’ Tula takes Speranza in his arms, but the look of concern in his eyes is unchanged as he looks over her shoulder at the cheerful multitude outside.

  XV

  Willem and his family arrive in Punda where he drops his wife and children and heads without delay to the government building. He’s informed that the governor has just left for his plantation in Blue Bay. Willem informs them that he has news about the slave revolt and insists on an immediate meeting with Romer, the deputy governor whom he tells that the slaves have seized plantation Santa Cruz and that its owners have fled.

  ‘Where did you get this information? Who told you?’ Romer stares at Willem disparagingly.

  ‘I saw it with my own eyes, sir. I drove past Santa Cruz on my way to the city.’

  Shaken by the sudden seriousness of the situation, Romer decides to call an emergency meeting of the council that same day. ‘We meet this evening, Mr Van Uytrecht. You can tell your story then. Make sure you’re at the government building by eight.’

  Both Willem and Caspar van Uytrecht are present at the council meeting. Willem thought it was wise to have his father at his side when the revolt that started on their plantation came up for discussion. There was a good chance he would need his support.

  ‘The situation is much worse than we thought, gentlemen,’ says Romer, opening the meeting. ‘Reports have reached us that slaves from Kenepa who are refusing to work have seized the plantation at Santa Cruz. This calls for serious measures.’

  ‘Seized the plantation? How do you know that?’ one of the council members asks.

  Romer points to Willem, who has tucked behind his father’s back, doing his best not to stand out. ‘Mr Willem van Uytrecht saw it with his own eyes. He passed the plantation on his way to the city and saw a mass of slaves in the garden of the manor house.’

  ‘So what’s Van Uytrecht doing in the city when there’s trouble at home? Wouldn’t he have been better to get his own situation under control before gallivanting off to the city?’

  ‘The honourable Mr Van Uytrecht is perhaps best placed to answer your questions himself.’ Romer nods at Willem, inviting him to come forward to the podium in front of the chamber. ‘Perhaps you could explain to the assembly why you have come to the city? I presume your bombas are in control of the situation on Kenepa?’

  Willem turns to his father with a plea for help in his eyes and makes his way red-faced to the front of the chamber.

  ‘Respected gentlemen,’ he begins, the diffidence in his voice unmistakable. ‘As you will have understood from my father, a group of fifty slaves refused to go to work yesterday. The situation was extremely volatile and my father decided to inform the council without delay.’

  ‘We know that already,’ someone sneers from the hall. ‘We want to know what you’re doing here.’

  ‘After my father left, a group of slaves who had refused to go to work liberated a number of prisoners being held on the plantation. The bombas did their best to stop them, but they were seriously outnumbered. I’m sure you will understand that my family’s safety was my first priority. That is why I decided to leave for the city immediately.’

  ‘So you just ran away, is that it?’ a cynical council member inquires. Willem hesitates for a moment and then continues, his diffidence unabated. ‘On our way to the city we passed Santa Cruz. A large number of slaves had gathered in the garden of the manor house. The master of the plantation had already fled the place. I’m afraid things will only get worse if we don’t do something.’

  Noise and commotion fill the council chamber. ‘Perhaps you should have done something yourself first, Mr Van Uytrecht, then it might not have come to this,’ someone shouts. ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures,’ another grunts. ‘Nothing ever changes. You should have used force, cracked down.’

  ‘Gentlemen, gentlemen, order please.’ Romer slams the table with the chairman’s hammer. ‘It’s no longer a question of what Mr Van Uytrecht should have done. We need to ask ourselves what has to be done now to nip this problem in the bud. I suggest we send fifty soldiers and a few people from the mulatto and free negro corps. That should put a swift end to this business.’

  ‘Fifty soldiers?’ someone asks. ‘Isn’t that a bit much for a bunch of blacks? And we still don’t know what they’re after. Van Uytrecht told them to meet with the governor. Maybe they thought the journey was too long. Maybe they changed their minds at Santa Cruz and decided to have some fun on the way. When the cat’s away, eh?’

  ‘And maybe they’re waiting for reinforcements and preparing their revolt,’ Romer interrupts. ‘We can’t take any risks. We have to send the army before the situation gets out of hand.’

  ‘But your director told us this morning about the unstable situation in the harbour and the danger of English and French pirates. We can’t weaken the harbour’s defences without good reason,’ someone else remarks. A murmur of approval ripples through the assembly.

  ‘As you wish,’ Romer. ‘Then we send a smaller number. Surely we can spare a dozen soldiers. Add another fifty from the mulatto and free negro corps and that should be enough. I’ll ask lieutenant Plegher to inquire about the slaves’ intentions and tell him to send them back to their plantations, with force if necessary.’

  Preparations are made the next morning for the departure of the troops. In the course of the day, the owner of plantation Santa Cruz arrives in the city and informs Romer that the slaves have moved on and are now encamped on plantation Porto Marie. But Romer sees no reason to change his decision. He informs lieutenant Plegher to take the boat the following morning to Boca Sami instead of Santa Cruz and then continue across country to Porto Marie. His orders are clear. The slaves must return to their plantations. Willingly or unwillingly.

  XVI

  Tula is waiting impatiently for Louis to arrive at Porto Marie. ‘I don’t understand what’s keeping him.’ Bastiaan peers out over the expansive mondi, his eyes peeled. ‘Maybe we should send someone to meet him. Tossijn’s pretty fast on a horse. He’ll be back before you know it.’

  Tossijn returns with his report just before noon. He tells them that Louis is holed up on plantation Fontein; that he decided to set up camp there should the whites attack.

  ‘Fontein?’ Bastiaan asks, surprised. ‘Why Fontein? This place is much better.’

  ‘Maybe he has information we don’t have.’ Tula looks doubtful. ‘Fontein isn’t bad. The only two roads heading west run either side of the mountain. It’s the perfect vantage point to keep a good eye on what’s coming.’

  Louis and his group arrive in Porto Marie in the afternoon. Tula runs to him. ‘Jorboe?’ Louis shakes his head.

  ‘He refused to come. His place is on Kenepa with your mother, he said.’

  Tula has trouble hiding his disappointment for a moment, but then he pulls himself together.

  ‘How many people?’

  ‘Almost everyone,’ says Louis. ‘We also managed to pick up a stack of weapons on the way.’ At that moment the two white soldiers are pushed forward, their arms still
tied.

  ‘And who do we have here?’

  ‘We found them in one of the forts,’ says Louis. ‘They’re army men. I couldn’t leave them. They’re soldiers, don’t forget. You can never tell what they’ll do. I brought them along to let them see that our intentions are good. With all the false reports circulating about us in the city, we’re going to need white people at some stage to confirm our story.’

  ‘You’re right. We can lock them up in the manor house. Bastiaan, make sure they get water and something to eat.’ Bastiaan gestures to the soldiers and they follow him into the manor house.

  ‘We’ll have to hold off for a day,’ Tula continues. ‘The new arrivals are too tired to keep going. Let’s stay here for a night and move on tomorrow. We need to get to the city before dark or the whites might think they’re under attack.’

  ‘There’s something you need to know.’ Louis looks at the ground, clearly uncomfortable. ‘There was a death on our way here.’

  ‘A death? What happened?’

  Louis tells him about the white man and the horrible way he died. ‘A dead white man,’ says Tula. ‘That’s all we need. It’s just the excuse they’re looking for. God help us. Who else knows about this?’

  ‘Just me,’ says Louis, ‘and the men responsible.’

  ‘We have to make sure no one else hears about it. Where’s Pedro now?’

  Louis looks around, uncertain. ‘The last time I saw him he was somewhere near the back of the group. He’s sober, of course, meek and mild and deeply ashamed.’

  ‘Bring him and his friends to the manor house. Bastiaan, we need to talk about this.’ Tula walks off, shaking his head.

  Tula meets with Bastiaan in the living room of the manor house and explains what happened. ‘How can he have been so stupid? The man’s a menace. If the whites find out about this they’ll punish us all,’ Bastiaan snorts.

  ‘We need to stay calm,’ says Tula, ‘that’s the most important thing. Take time to come up with a solution. We can’t cover up the man’s death. They’re sure to miss him. We have to tell them ourselves before they find out. It’s the only way.’

  At that moment Louis enters the room with Pedro and five other men in his wake, their heads hung, not daring to look at Tula.

  ‘What got into you?’ Tula roars. ‘Our first steps as free men and you use them to indulge your violent instincts against the very people we depend on for our freedom. Have you any idea what all this means? Do you think this is going to help us when we meet with the Shon? Do you think they’ll just turn a blind eye? Our first steps as free men, and you give them a perfect reason to take our freedom back from us.’

  ‘We’re sorry,’ says Pedro. ‘We lost control. This should never have happened.’

  ‘You’re sorry?’ Tula throws his hands in the air in desperation and approaches the group. ‘You’re sorry. Well let me tell you this: we’re sorry too. You leave us no choice. We have to hand you over to the authorities when we reach the city. Each of you is going to have to face the consequences of what you did. We can’t put the freedom of our people at risk because of your stupidity. Sadly, your freedom was short-lived.’

  ‘And who are you to tell us what to do?’ Pedro barks. He storms up to Tula as the other five men get to their feet. A sudden menace fills the air.

  ‘You and your big talk about freedom. Do you really think they’re just going to let us go? They should be happy we didn’t kill every white we met on our way here. They’ve used and abused us for years. Do you think that’s going to change overnight? Don’t tell us what we can and can’t do.’

  A loud bang echoes through the room. The men turn warily towards its source and see Bastiaan standing by the door with a musket still smoking in his hand. Louis is at his side with his rifle pointing at Pedro’s head.

  ‘Get used to it, Pedro.’ Tula nods to the two men who came running to the door, alarmed by the gunshot. ‘Tie them up and take them away. Make sure they can’t do any more damage.’ Pedro and his men are taken away and locked up in the manor house scullery.

  Everyone wakes early the following morning. Bastiaan is in the best of spirits. He lets Tula and Speranza know that he’s heading to the sea with a couple of men to fish for breakfast. Tula nods and they continue their walk in the garden of the manor house where they stop for a chat with the people they meet and joke and play with the children. Louis joins them.

  ‘This is our big day,’ says Tula with a smile. If it’s God’s will, tonight we will celebrate the feast of freedom.’

  ‘Then it’s time you took a bath,’ Louis laughs. ‘You won’t get anywhere near the big Shon looking like that.’

  Tula pulls a face. ‘What…?’

  ‘You’re a mess… and you stink.’ Louis slaps Tula on the shoulder and races down the path to the beach. Tula laughs and races after him.

  ‘Men,’ says Speranza as she lovingly watches Tula catch up with Louis. ‘They never grow up…’

  Floating weightless in the warm ocean relaxes their tired muscles. Tula and Louis aren’t the only ones to have found their way to the water. Many have followed their example and are enjoying themselves on the beach or in the surf. The women are resting above the high-water line, experiencing the tranquillity, chatting and playing with the children. The tensions of the previous few days seem to have vanished completely and the tiredness left by their long walk seems to flow from their bodies with the ebbing tide.

  Then suddenly someone screams. ‘Tula! Tulaaah.’ A long protracted cry echoes back and forth between the rocks. A tiny boat with Bastiaan at the bow steams at speed towards the beach, the men in the stern rowing with all the strength they can muster.

  Tula waves his hands above his head to signal that he’s spotted them. The boat heads straight for the beach and Bastiaan jumps out as soon as it hits the sand. He runs to Tula….

  ‘Soldiers!’ he gasps. ‘Heading this way in boats. They’re armed.’

  ‘Soldiers?’ Tula is knocked for six. ‘Where? How many? What did you see?’

  ‘The army, Tula. They’re just of out sight, near Boca Sami. Ten boats at least, and a hundred soldiers or more. They’ve sent the army against us.’

  Tula thinks for a moment and then runs to the edge of the water. ‘Everyone out!’ he roars. ‘Back to the manor house on the double.’ The beach empties in moments as the revellers clamber up the dunes towards the manor house. Tula, Bastiaan and Louis are the last to follow. When they reach the manor house they realise that the bad news has already beaten them to the post. Total panic has taken hold of the group: some are rushing back and forth, others sitting apathetically on the ground. Mothers gather their children and stand in small groups, waiting, petrified, not knowing what to do.

  Tossijn pushes his way through the crowd in the opposite direction, heading towards Tula. ‘Is it true? Is the army on its way?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ says Tula. ‘Bastiaan saw soldiers, that’s all we know. We have to calm everyone down until we know exactly what’s happening. Take a horse to Boca Sami and see if you can get some more information. Bastiaan, Louis, join me inside.’

  ‘This is the moment. We have to attack them before they get here,’ says Louis, ready for a fight. ‘They’ve got guns. We can’t just let them march in firing and trample all over us.’

  ‘But who says that’s what they’re planning, Louis?’ Tula counters. ‘Maybe they’re not looking for us. Why didn’t they just sail on to Porto Marie? We have to wait until Tossijn gets back with more information.’

  Bastiaan is also in fighting spirits. ‘Maybe they want to surprise us and are waiting for nightfall. We have to do something. We have to attack, now!’

  But Tula shakes his head. ‘We can’t just attack the army. If we do that we’re dead men. We wait!’

  He walks outside and stands at the balustrade. The crowd gathered in the garden is still uneasy. He whistles to attract attention. Silence.

  ‘Stay calm, people, there’s nothing to be worried
about. Soldiers have been spotted, but they’re still a good distance away.’ Tula pauses for a moment, but his silence is quickly filled by anxious voices talking ten to the dozen. ‘There’s no reason to panic,’ he shouts, trying to be heard over the din. ‘The soldiers are probably here for another reason. At this moment we’re trying to find out what that is. There’s no danger. We wait here until we know exactly what’s going on.’ Tula’s words have a calming effect on the crowd. Some continue to chatter in groups but the outbreak of panic seems to have subsided.

  It’s already late in the afternoon when Tossijn finally returns from his scouting expedition. He looks a sight from the cuts and scratches left by the jagged bushes he had to ride through on the way. ‘Twelve soldiers and a bunch of mulattos,’ he says as he jumps from his horse. ‘They’re armed and they’re heading this way.’

  XVII

  The soldiers have landed at Boca Sami. Lieutenant Plegher gathers his men and hands out orders. He calls Marcus Anthony, the lieutenant of the mulatto corps, to his side and orders him on a scouting expedition with two soldiers and ten negroes. He and the rest of his men are to ready themselves to go to Porto Marie to tell the slaves they must go back to their plantations. The soldiers split up and head off. Halfway, near Bullenbaai, lieutenant Paradis is sent ahead with a couple of soldiers and under the protection of a white flag to talk to the rebellious slaves.

  Back at the manor house, Tula is making the necessary preparations for an imminent confrontation with the army. He figures that the soldiers need at least a couple of hours to reach them on foot. He plans to surround them unseen and launch a surprise attack. Bastiaan is to take a group of fifty through the middle of the mondi in the direction of the soldiers. Tula’s orders are clear: ‘Stay off the road and make sure you’re not seen. And don’t shoot unless you’re shot at.’ Louis is also to put a group of men together and follow the coast, shutting the soldiers in on the open salt flats. Tula plans to stay at the manor house to protect the rest of the group should it be necessary. He makes his way to the garden, selects twenty men, and asks them to follow him. He lines them up in the mondi on the landward side of the plantation and they conceal themselves. The waiting begins as the sun slowly climbs in the sky.