Chapter 616: The Black Hurricane
The armed merchant ship Deep Cargo Hold sailed with its main and secondary sails fully unfurled. With the Gulf Stream aiding its journey, it reached the coastline of Georgia, USA, within just a week.
A small smuggling vessel from the Special Trade Association, contacted days earlier by the Intelligence Bureau, was already waiting offshore to guide them.
Although the U.S. coastal patrols had little in the way of decent ships, the Deep Cargo Hold waited until dusk to anchor near a desolate beach in southeastern Georgia for safety.
Bookman and his men quickly unloaded weapons, ammunition, and provisions from the merchant ship. Gazing out at the vast plains cloaked in night, his heart was a whirlwind of relief and exhilaration. He immediately placed a carved wooden totem on the ground, knelt, and gave thanks to his ancestors for their protection.
After his prayer, the "British merchant" approached with a cheerful demeanor and handed him a map, cautioning:
"Great hero, this is Georgia. To the north and west, you'll find vast cotton plantations where countless blacks endure suffering.
"To the south lies the Savannah River, across which are Indian lands. They also despise the whites. If the situation becomes dire, you can retreat across the river and seek their aid—or at least use the river to defend against white militias.
"The dense forests to the west will also provide excellent cover."
At this time, U.S. territory extended only as far west as the Mississippi River and as far south as northern Florida, which was still a Spanish colony.
Between Florida and U.S. territory, there were several large Native American tribes. Georgia, bordering Florida and the Indian-controlled zones, while also offering a potential retreat to the Atlantic, was the perfect staging ground for rebellion.
Bookman carefully stowed the map, preparing to bid farewell to his "British friend." As he glanced up, he noticed the merchant ship's neatly aligned gun ports illuminated by lantern light.
With a sly grin, Bookman ordered his men to dismantle the ship's 9-pound and 4-pound cannons. The merchant ship also carried heavier 18-pound cannons, but without horses to transport them, they had to be left behind.
"Thank you, Mr. Robin," Bookman said, making a Voodoo prayer gesture. "I will repay you tenfold or more in the future."
The "British merchant" smiled and waved dismissively.
"I've done little. If you wish to express gratitude, thank the Duke of Leeds—Francis Godolphin Osborne."
Two Days Later
Several scouting parties composed of mixed-race soldiers returned to the forest where Bookman's rebellion forces were hiding. They reported on the surrounding areas.
Bookman marked plantation locations on the map and discussed with his officers before deciding on the Arle Plantation to the north.
Scouts reported that the plantation held nearly 200 black slaves and fewer than 30 whites.
The Next Morning
Plantation owner Evans Arle and his family were still sound asleep when the distant sound of gunfire echoed faintly.
Mrs. Arle shook her husband awake.
"Evans, what's going on?"
Evans Arle groaned, turning over.
"Probably just some blacks breaking their chains again. Lane must be chasing them down. Let's hope he doesn't kill them all this time…"
But the gunfire grew increasingly intense.
Realizing something was amiss, Arle leapt out of bed, grabbing his hunting rifle. He and his two sons stepped outside the mansion just in time to see overseer Lane galloping toward them, his face bloodied.
"Run! Get out now! Too many blacks—they've got guns!" Lane shouted hoarsely.
"Blacks?" Arle asked, gripping his rifle. "How many?"
"At least 200…"
Ten minutes later, the Arle family fled westward on horseback, aiming for Merritt Town, 10 miles away.
But as they galloped across endless cotton fields, they found themselves facing 20 black soldiers in white uniforms, rifles trained on them.
"Don't shoot! Take whatever you want…" Arle began, but the soldiers opened fire without hesitation.
Four hours later, 31 heads were laid at Bookman's feet. Nearby, Arle's daughter and two white overseers hung from a wooden frame used to punish slaves.
Surrounding them were over 300 of Bookman's soldiers and nearly 200 slaves from the plantation. Meanwhile, other soldiers continued to search the plantation for any remaining whites.
Listening to the sound of whips cracking and the screams of whites, Bookman raised his hand toward the trembling slaves.
"You are free!" he proclaimed. "The great god Legba watches over you.
"Now, let us pray to the spirits and ancestors together. Then take up arms and join us to kill every cursed white!"
The slaves exchanged nervous glances—they didn't understand French.
After Bookman's men translated, most of the slaves burst into tears, claiming they were doomed.
However, a dozen or so brave souls stepped forward, knelt by Bookman's totem, and prayed alongside him.
Over the Next Week
Bookman's forces attacked three more plantations, swelling their ranks to nearly 1,000.
Historically, slave revolts in the U.S. often lacked organization or capable leadership, leading to swift suppression.
This time, however, the Americans faced Bookman's movement—hardened through the blood and fire of Saint-Domingue—and were thrown into chaos.
In Saint-Domingue, Bookman's forces had battled French regulars to a standstill. It had taken over 2,000 soldiers to defeat them.
In the sparsely populated U.S., with Bookman leaving no survivors, it took ten days for Savannah's militia to learn of the rebellion. They hastily dispatched a 400-man force to suppress it.
In their experience, such a force was more than enough to quash any black uprising.
When they reached Merritt Town, now controlled by the rebels, cannon fire suddenly erupted behind them. A 12-pound cannonball struck the ranks, reducing over a dozen militiamen to pulp.
Chaos ensued as over 1,000 black rebels armed with Brown Bess muskets charged from both flanks.
Two Days Later
Michael Haydon, the mayor of Savannah, stared at the emergency report in his trembling hands, his face pale as a sheet.
The city militia's main force had been routed by the black rebels, with over 180 dead. The rebels were now advancing toward Savannah.
While Bookman surged forward triumphantly, Brissot was back in Saint-Domingue, holding a critical meeting with Ogé, Governor Mably, and several key legislators. The outcome of this meeting would reshape the entire Caribbean.
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