"KING WILLIAM'S PEOPLE," 



THE STORY OF THE WINKEL VILLAGE, BERBICE. 

 By J. Graham Cruickshank. 



Aback of the residential quarter of " Queenstown," in New Amster- 

 dam, Berbice, bounded (approximately) on the North by the Prison Farm, 

 on the South by Vryheid street, on the East by P)n. Smythfield, and on 

 the West by that aptly named road (which is the way to the Prison) called 

 " Penitential Walk" — is a little village known as " the Winkel." An old 

 man will say of his friend that " he do -s live in the Winkel" or of him- 

 self that he "just, just from the Winkel." 



Although the Winkel Village is within the boundaries of New 

 Amsterdam, as defined by law, and might be made subject to all the rules 

 and regulations of that borough it yet lives a separate life of its own, yet 

 breathes apart something of the old time when in his way the Winkel 

 Negro was a somebody in Berbice. 



Just now the village — like many another place illustrious in its day — 

 does not bear many marks of fame. A mud d im divides its two rows, or 

 wavy lines, of houses. Halfway through the village — from Vryheid 

 Street to Ferry Street — the dam, although destitute of stone or burnt 

 earth, is wide and ample and is kept free of long grass. Sweet potatoes 

 and arrowroot and pigeon peas have been planted on the parapet. Then 

 the abandoned lots begin to come — lots which are still rich in old fruit 

 trees, star-apple and sapodilla and dark-leaved mango, but from which 

 the human element (more fragile and more peripatetic than a vegetable) 

 disappeared in some cases many long years ago. The road echoes this dis- 

 appearance, and dwindles away to a mere foot-track between sourgrass 

 and busy-busy. At night the Winkel Village is in darkness, save for such 

 light as shines from a " door-mouth " or twinkles in the sky. The most 

 remote inhabitant of the Kongo cannot more gratefully hail the lipht of 

 the moon. There is no stand-pipe on the dam ; the Winkel girl dips 

 water from the Smythfield old punt-trench — deep in moka-moka and wild 

 gooseberry, now — just as her great-grandmother did. 



Immediately behind the fine flower of the aristocracy of New Amster- 

 dam — within cry of an old house that once sheltered the Governor of 

 Berbice — is this little primitive settlement, — sans light, sans water, sans 

 a road that is walkable in wet weather. 



What is the story of the Winkel Village ? What is the meaning of 

 " winkel," — " anyway " ? " 



" Winkel "—as any Dutch Dictionary will tell us — is a shop. A 

 winkel- jongen is a shop-boy ; a winhel-meisje is a shop-girl. And this 

 simple bit of word-lore puts us on a track, which, together with a little 

 research among the records — published and unpublished — leads us to the 

 heart of the business. The Winkel Village is where the old artizans — 



