The surging seas have since returned to conceal, yet again, the old pine coffins and the broken skeletal remains laid bare in the sunshine along the rank, soggy foreshore that was formerly a colonial cemetery on the Number 71, Berbice estate.
In the constant struggle that has characterised the hard-won development of our low-lying coastline, from Anna Regina and the Corentyne to Zeeburg and Zeelandia, ever-rising ochre-clouded waters have claimed miles of valuable land, with little more than a few coconut tree stumps, tufts of greenery and broken bridge supports poking out to show these areas were once cultivated.
About 90 percent of our population still live on this precarious flat sliver of drained swampland that is some six feet below sea level at high tide, and just one percent of the vulnerable national territory. But with three quarters of the economic activities and deteriorating, aged defences, it is increasingly vulnerable in the escalating climate crisis.
Yet this area represents one of the largest unheralded engineering feats of the 18th and early 19th centuries. Mainly enslaved African people and their descendants were forced into an enormous backbreaking task, to move an estimated 100 million tons of heavy saturated clay, with mere shovel in hand, while enduring brutal conditions, including of “perpetual mud and water,” the famous Dr Walter Rodney would repeat in his book, “A history of the Guyanese working people, 1881-1905,” completed shortly before his assassination in June 1980.
First divided by the Dutch into fertile plantations crisscrossed by a vast network of earthen dams, trenches and kokers, these prized lots for crops like sugarcane, coffee, cocoa and tobacco grown by the enslaved over warring centuries of European rule, are today’s enduring hamlets. Massiah at Number 70 Village is next to Little Massiah at Number 71, East Berbice-Corentyne, named for the 19th century British family that purchased these and adjoining estates.
The shocking videos and photographs of the flooded narrow coffins, scattered human bones, and antique bottles glinting in the light at what is now part of the foreshore behind Number 71 Village, were revealed on social media, a few weeks ago, going viral with nearly half of a million views. However residents told the media that they have long known about the old burial ground.
Across the Corentyne, on the Suriname side, heritage professional Stephen Fokké, looked at the videos and commented, “This is most likely a slave cemetery from colonial times. In 1984 a similar burial ground was found along the Atlantic coast of the district of Commewijne in Suriname, 57 graves were discovered due to coastal erosion. It appeared to be a slave cemetery of the (Suriname) plantation Waterloo (1793-1861).” Only a few slave cemeteries have been found to date.
The director of the Suriname Built Heritage Foundation and Manager of the historic inner city of Paramaribo UNESCO World Heritage Site, Mr Fokké pointed out that the former plantation on which the Number 71 cemetery was located, are among a number of plots listed on an 1802 Dutch map of the lower “Corantyn River” and Atlantic coast of Berbice.
“In my opinion the coffins are most likely of slaves, not of (East Indian) indentured immigrants,” he told me, noting that the first such indentured East Indian labourers only arrived in Berbice in 1838. “In general, plantations had their own burial ground for slaves” and sometimes estate owners or family members were also buried on their plantations.
“But, normally the graves of Europeans were made of brick and/or topped with a grave slab. In this particular case, looking at the images of the burial ground, the graves are not lined with bricks nor have a grave slab. This means the graves originally must have had a wooden grave marker that long ago has disappeared. I see some resemblance with the discovery in 1984 of the slave cemetery on the former plantation Waterloo at the Warappa Canal/Atlantic Coast of Suriname. In both cases (Guyana and Suriname) the burial grounds are on former cotton plantations and became exposed as a consequence of coastal erosion.” Some historic structures and planting beds of the cotton plantation Esthersrust at the mouth of the Warappa Canal surfaced while on the other bank the slave cemetery emerged in 1984.
He added that most cotton plantations were located directly along the countries’ coastline, since the crop thrived in the salty environment. According to the Atlas of Mutual Heritage, “By the late eighteenth century, a gradual economic shift occurred to the areas in the lower reaches of the Berbice river and on the adjacent coast. In the interim years of British rule after 1796, the plantation acreage downriver and on the coast had extended spectacularly, as can be clearly seen on the [1802] map” dominated by yellow tracts representing cotton.
An 1804 map mentions the designations and owners of the 200 plantations shown. However, “No. 71,” 500 “akkers”/acres large did not appear to have a name and was not assigned to an owner by that time, like Numbers 69, 70 and 72. The Number 68 section was owned by C.Van Batenburg while No. 73 originally belonged to someone with just the initials “D.B.”
Mr Fokké acknowledged that “until an anthropological and paleo pathological study of the remains is conducted to determine sex, age, and whether the deceased were actually slaves, indentured labourers or otherwise, it will be speculation what kind of burial ground it is.” He advised the site could be properly mapped and photographed.
Explaining that the wooden coffins were well preserved because they were completely covered with mud, he said little oxygen could penetrate the materials, but once these become exposed to the open air, and are no longer protected by water, and left untreated, the process of decomposition will accelerate.
In a recent article for the new website, ‘SharedCemeteries.net’ that examines the material funerary heritage of the Netherlands and its former colonies, Mr Fokké co-wrote with another expert, that in areas where there were military posts to protect plantations, the officers and soldiers who died there were buried on the spot. The site launched by the Dutch Dodenakkers Foundation features a database of historic cemeteries. As a former Dutch colony, Guyana is expected to be added.
“Remnants of grave monuments are sometimes found, but many plantations have been swallowed up by nature and what remains of the small cemeteries has thus become virtually untraceable. Enslaved people who died of exhaustion, exploitation, or otherwise, were likely buried at the back of the plantation, but without any memorial marks. It also happened that dead enslaved people were thrown into the river, mainly from the ships.” In 1669, the authorities allowed for the bodies of dead enslaved people to be dumped with attached weights, but those holders held responsible for floating corpses were punished with a fine of 500 pounds of sugar. In 1801, the law changed for enslaved persons to be buried in a suitable place.
I think we could seek assistance from the Surinamese or similar experts. It is testimony to the state of this country that the Police, and not the anthropologists, archaeologists or forensic scientists were called out, but by then the Atlantic Ocean had swept back in. What does it say about us as a people when there is no public move by the University of Guyana which offers an associate degree in anthropology, the Walter Roth Museum of Anthropology, the Ministry of Culture or heritage and similar groups to retrieve, study and reinter the remains with respect?
ID studies the small advertisement in the Berbice Gazette of Saturday, February 20, 1813, seeking to sell part of Lot No. 71, the estate of the late Sohn Sawyer, on the Courantine coast, by Court approval, with the 18 slaves, buildings and cultivation part of the inventory to be seen at the “Vendue office.”
