As I stand in the dock, look at the judge and all the jurors sitting on the bench, I already know how this trial going end, but I hope at least them who sit in judgement going hear me story. Maybe come to understand why I did the things I did. But looking at the fat, well-fed faces, most of them planters, one a doctor, another one a lawyer, some with Esquire after them name, I know they going learn nothing, hear nothing, and they think that as sure as the sun going rise, they always on the side of right.

First witness that gets called is Busha Annand. When him enter, him look me up and down as if to say, now who is sitting in the dirt. Him swear on the good book that him telling the truth, but is a sideways truth. Make it sound like him was a brave and fierce warrior, don’t tell the court how him cower, shiver in him nightshirt.

‘On Wednesday night,’ Annand start up, but the prosecutor stop him.

‘May it please the court, for clarity’s sake, the Wednesday night Mister Annand is referring to was the twenty-seventh day of December, 1831. Is this correct, Mister Annand?’

Annand nod and continue.

‘I saw several Negro men, from eight to ten in number, coming up the carriageway towards the Great House. I asked them what they wanted and then Buchanan stepped forward.’

‘Is that the prisoner in the dock? Is that the mulatto slave William Buchanan?’

‘Yes,’ Annand say, looking at me. ‘That is he.

‘Then William begged for slaves to have the day off. I said yes, as long as all the Negroes first turned out for muster, so I might see they were all present. Buchanan then seized me by my arm and said, “Busha, you are now my prisoner.” The other Negroes immediately surrounded me and I saw that most of them had cutlasses hidden beneath their shirts.’ Annand pause, wipe him brow where the sweat start to form. ‘Naturally I stood my ground and asked Buchanan what he wanted. He mumbled some nonsense about how they had worked long enough and were now free and how I knew very well the king had made them free and they were now determined to fight for it. I attempted to reason with him, telling him that the king would do no such thing.’

The judge ask, ‘What happened then, Mister Annand?’ And I notice how everybody in the court sit forward, waiting to hear what happen next.

‘He demanded I hand over any arms and ammunition I had in my possession. I of course refused. Buchanan then told one of the Negroes to guard me and he went into the Great House in search of gunpowder.’

‘Did the prisoner harm you in any way?’

‘No, but I believe he meant to murder me if he found no arms.’