at once became antagonistic to any system of real colonization, and from that day to this has done more than any other evil to retard the progress of the people. It was extinguished, much to the disgust of the old Dutch inhabitants, under Mr. Buxton's Emancipation Act in 1834;—but its effects are still felt.
In 1666 two men were flogged and sentenced to work in irons for three years for stealing cabbages. Terrible severity seems to have been the only idea of government. Those who were able to produce more than they consumed were allowed to sell to no purchaser except the Company. Even the free men, the so-called burghers, were little better than slaves, and were bound to perform their military duties with almost more than Dutch accuracy. Time was kept by the turning of an official hour glass, for which purpose two soldiers called Rondegangers were kept on duty, one to relieve the other through the day and night. And everything was done vigorously by clockwork,—or hour-glass work rather; the Senate sitting punctually at nine for their executive and political duties. A soldier, if he was found sleeping at his post, was tied to a triangle and beaten by relays of flagellators. Everything was done in accordance with the ideas of a military despotism, in which, however, the Commander-in-chief was assisted by a Council or Senate.
And there was need for despotism. Food often ran short, so that penguins had to be supplied in lieu of pork,—to the infinite disgust we should imagine of others besides poor Van Vogelaar. It often became a serious question whether the garrison,—for then it was little more than a garrison,—*
