LETTER II.
It has been asserted, that the Slave Trade is a desirable employ, and a nursery for our seamen.
Were this the case, sailors would be found as willing to offer themselves to this, as to any other traffic. But the direct contrary is the fact. Nothing is more difficult than to procure a sufficient number of hands for a Guinea voyage.
To collect a crew for this purpose, there are public houses, under the influence, and in the pay of the merchants; every allurement and artifice is held out to entice them into these infamous dens. Festivity and music lay hold of the deluded senses; prostitution throws in a fascinating spell with too much success; and intoxication generally gives the business its fatal period.
In these houses, every temptation to run into debt is most studiously offered; this, with an unthinking sailor, is easily brought about: and when once that wheel is set in motion, it is soon accelerated to the wretched point which was aimed at. When the debt is sufficient for the purpose, a Guinea ship is offered, sometimes through the medium of the inexorable hostess, and frequently by one of those numerous agents on that business, who, under the mask of pity or sudden friendship, win the attention and confidence of the unsuspecting victim. If this be refused, he is thrown into prison, which fixes him their own; for, from that place, other vessels will scarcely engage him; ships in every other employ find seamen willing enough to offer their services: and the Captains of these have a natural objection to what they call jail-birds.
These houses are kept in continual operation. But, at the immediate time of an outfit, every exertion and contrivance is used. Merchants, Clerks, Captains, and others, prowl about without intermission. They lay hold of every sailor they meet, and without ceremony, hurry him into some scene of intoxication. I have been dragged into houses three times, in the course of one street, myself: nay, I have known many seamen, who fancied themselves cunning enough to evade these practices, go with the crimps to some of their houses, boasting that they would cheat the Merchant out of a night's merriment, and firmly resolved to oppose every artifice that could be offered; yet have they, in their state of drunkenness, signed articles with the very men, whose purposes they were aware of, and have been plunged into a situation, of which they had known the horrors.
In Liverpool—and I understand that the same practice prevails at Bristol—when they have signed articles, they get a note for their advance-money, not payable till they are out at sea, and till a list of the crew is brought back by the pilot. Now, to negotiate this bill, which is to pay their debts, and to furnish themselves with a few clothes, and a little modicum of liquor, they are obliged to make a will, and power of attorney, in favour of their rapacious landlady. The third mate of the vessel I sailed in—poor Russel!—and myself, were obliged to give into this practice. Without any idea of debt, and far from any of those hired dens I have mentioned, but rather reputably lodged in what they called a coffee-house, we found it absolutely necessary, in order to live with any degree of ease and comfort, to make wills in favour of our landlady: it was expected as a thing of course, and was impossible to be avoided moderately. Her brewer, a man of credit, was the witness and leader of the business and seemed to consider it as an essential consequence of the voyage. It is true, we cancelled them soon by new ones: but this may serve to shew the prevalency of the practice, and may help to exhibit to the public, the disinterested characters of that numerous body of men, women, and children, who have with such cogent arguments signed the Liverpool petition against the abolition of the Slave Trade:—those whip-cord spinners, those chain-forgers, those heirs and legatees, deriving inheritance from the cruelty, murder, and injustice of a Guinea voyage.