Vorona

[imperialpearl]

Cancassay Riots revisted 

In a well-received departure from the traditional pre-Carnival formula, the city of Straughn is treated to a retelling of the pivotal Cancassay rebellion like never before

1st May 5659| By Christian Lee & Veronica Constantine

A performer spitting fire from their mouth during the Cancassay Riot re-enactment performance

"They came barefoot and bare-chested, in torn linen and worn cotton. Dressed in frayed trousers cinched with rope and dresses torn at the hem and stained with earth. In the blazing sun, they marched, chains clinking at their ankles as if the weight of their oppression was dragged with them. Some carried cutlasses, others raised burning sugarcane stalks, and like a wave of anger and vengeance, they surged toward the plantation house."

Although the production and the broader event had been trapped in a near-vicious cycle of financial constraints, the perpetual challenge of balancing historical accuracy with compelling theatre and the question of whether it would be well-received by the general public, Stephan Baptiste, the event’s coordinator/architect, believed that it was nonetheless important that they “push through”. With significant backing from the Voronan Heritage Foundation, Baptiste, alongside a diverse cadre of actors, historians, poets, and interested patrons, was enlisted to actualise the long-envisioned undertaking of recreating the Cancassay Riots as a major centre-piece of Vorona’s carnival tradition. The Cancassay Riots hold significance within Vorona, particularly among the nation’s Kariga-Voronan population, as both the first major slave revolt in the nation’s colonial history and the titular history and the beginning of carnival celebrations. It has been traditionally marked by a series of readings from the final letters of the revolt leaders in the early hours of the morning, at the very hours they were executed for rebelling against the crown. In an interview prior to the re-enactment, Baptiste explained that he had been approached to helm the re-enactment as a means of bringing history to a wider, younger generation of Voronans, who seem to be disconnected from the traditional means through which the riots had been told. “I guess the feeling was that the early morning celebrations had to be ‘modernised’. Although we don’t want to transform our history into a spectacle, we can nonetheless ensure that we honour it in ways that resonate with today. So we lean into visual storytelling; We show what it would have been like to be in the midst of the riot alongside (Porter) Curnow and (Jean) Simon,” Baptiste explained.

The riot, as it came to be known, initially grew out of years of simmering resentment among the enslaved on the Curnow Plantation, fueled by the harsh treatment inflicted by the plantation’s owner, Oscar Curnow, and his son and overseer, Robert Curnow. In the early hours of the morning, a group of enslaved persons, led by Porter Curnow, a predial (house) slave assigned to the plantation’s Great House, revolted. They stormed the main residence, attacking and subsequently beheading Oscar and Robert, but deliberately sparing their Yingdalan deputy overseer, Sam Yeung, whom they regarded with a measure of respect. After seizing weapons and ammunition, the rebel fanned out across the estate to unshackle and rally the plantation’s more than 100 enslaved persons. Led by Porter, they set fire to the cane fields, the Great House and other dependencies, before marching to the neighbouring Simon plantation. “Curnow Dead, Freedom now!” the rebel re-enactors chanted as they moved past modern storefronts, as onlookers lined the street. The re-enactment followed the historic path taken by the rebels; what was once an unpaved trunk road is now a vibrant high street lined with retail stores and mixed-use spaces. “Ah does in de early mornin’ ting yuh know, but dis real different. Big up to whoever organise it,” said Arnold James, an onlooker. As the re-enactors marched along the route, behind them a crowd had begun to form. “Is like something just call meh to walk,” said 18-year-old Stephan Garcia, who found himself in the midst of the swelling procession. To maintain order and ensure the performers could continue uninterrupted, event staff and police officers established a buffer zone, placing themselves between the re-enactors and the growing number of ‘spontaneous’ participants.

Sheila McKenzie, the actress portraying Jean Simon

At the Simon plantation, the rebels were met with Jean Simon, a respected slave driver among the plantation’s enslaved persons and their quasi-representative to the plantation’s owner, Pierre-Marie Simon. Historian Dr Janice McIntosh notes that both Jean Simon and Porter Curnow had had prior interactions and thus surmises that the two may have conspired to plan the revolt over several years. “It was known that Pierre-Marie would sometimes rent out Jean to the Curnow estate,” Dr McIntosh explains. “It is entirely possible that during these visits, the foundations for the revolt would have been quietly laid.” Pierre-Marie had been spared Oscar and Robert’s fate as he had been absent from the plantation for the better part of four months, having left the island to settle business and other affairs in Lourenne. His wife and overseers, however, were not so fortunate. They were virtually hacked to death by the plantation’s enslaved persons and strung up on the large poui tree which stood at the estate’s entrance. For two days, the rebels, which had swelled to around 500, moved across much of Farleigh, dismantling infrastructure, burning fields and freeing enslaved persons. However, by the fourth day, word of the revolt had reached the colonial administration in Port Bradley. “Let it be known that on account of the heinous and barbarous negro uprising, which has resulted in mindless murder, destroyed property and stands as an affront to the Crown’s peace, that martial law is hereby declared in the County of Farleigh,” recited actor Terry Mahadeo, as he read out Governor Stephen Ashdown’s proclamation against the revolt. Standing against the background of a building fashioned to resemble the Governor’s Manor in Port Bradley, Mahadeo, dressed in the Governor’s colonial attire, pointed to the crowd and shouted, “All rebels shall be brought to justice. Be it the will of God.” A sharp crack of musket fire and scattered screams, recreated as part of the production, echoed beyond the gathered spectators.

Re-enactors march along the streets, with sticks and make-shift firearms in hand

A moment of silence followed, only broken by the sound of chains dragging as a line of re-enactors marched along the road, symbolising those who had been captured in the revolt’s aftermath. With word having reached Governor Ashdown, a colonial militia was mobilised, comprised of garrisoned troops, constables of the then Royal Voronan Constabulary, and hastily deputised planters. The force was quickly dispatched to Farleigh, where they confronted Porter [Curnow] and Jean [Simon] at the head of the rebel contingent. The rebels, armed with the rudimentary weapons, including guns and sticks, they had gathered from the various plantations they had raided throughout the previous days, were ultimately cornered in the mangrove wetlands, just north of the Hanrose estate. The brief, yet fierce engagement which followed resulted in the deaths of over 150 rebels and the capture of Porter, Jean and ten other leading co-conspirators. “Ah feel everybody should be out here watchin’ dis,” said Marcia Sylvester, one of the performance’s many onlookers. “Ah didn’t even know is all dis’ happen here. Kill me dead, I thought dem’ big rebellions was for dem’ places like Lodamun, or Statrica.” Ann-Marie Roopchand, another onlooker, said. As the performance reached its end on the steps of the Parliament Building, the crowd, now several hundred strong, stood in silence as the performers re-enacted the revolt’s leaders' final moments. Figures cloaked in black hoods to signify colonial executioners raised mock gallows, while actors portraying Porter and Jean delivered lines drawn from the surviving fragments of their letters. “I pray that should I die, that my people reclaim themselves and throw off the weight which has been hung around our necks,” Marc Roach, the actor portraying Porter Curnow, recited.

Baptiste notes that the performance had been conceptualised with the expressed intent of resurfacing those events which ‘shaped’ modern Vorona. “One thing I’ve always lamented was how easy it is for us [Voronans] to forget where we come from. A lot of people didn’t know about the Cancassay riots. People didn’t know that when they captured Porter Curnow and Jean Simon, they stripped them naked and paraded them through the streets of Port Bradley. They didn’t know that the National Museum in Farleigh literally sits above the remnants of the Curnow Great House. They didn’t know that Porter, Jean and their allies, prior to their capture, secretly wrote letters with the hope that their distribution throughout the other plantations, not just in Eastern Vorona but throughout the entire island, might spark revolution. Many didn’t know the reason we remember the Cancassay Riots before Carnival was because the actions of Porter and Jean did indeed spark similar revolts in other plantations, and we celebrate this spirit of resistance in Carnival. Before the bedazzled costumes, the ‘dutty wining’, the feathers and the soca music, there was a cry for freedom coming from deep within Vorona.”