Divers accounts have already appeared in print, declarative of the shocking wickedness with which this Trade is carried on; these may not have fallen into the hands of some of my readers, I shall, therefore, for their information, select a few of the most remarkable instances that I have met with, shewing the method by which the Trade is commonly managed all along the African coast.
Francis Moor, Factor to the African Company, on the river Gambia, relates, ‘That when the King of Barsalli wants goods, &c. he sends a messenger to the English Governor at James’s Fort, to desire he would send up a sloop with a cargo of goods; which (says the author) the Governor never fails to do: Against the time the vessel arrives, the King plunders some of his enemies towns, selling the people for such goods as he wants.—If he is not at war with any neighbouring King, he falls upon one of his own towns, and makes bold to sell his own miserable subjects.’
N. Brue, in his account of the Trade, &c. writes, ‘That having received a quantity of goods, he wrote to the King of the country, That if he had a sufficient number of slaves, he was ready to trade with him. This Prince (says that author) as well as other Negroe Monarchs, has always a sure way of supplying his deficiencies by selling his own subjects.—The King had recourse to this method, by seizing three hundred of his own people, and sent word to Brue, that he had the slaves ready to deliver for the goods.’
The Misery and Bloodshed, consequent to the Slave-trade, is amply set forth by the following extracts of two voyages to the coast of Guinea for slaves. The first in a vessel from Liverpool, taken verbatim from the original manuscript of the Surgeon’s journal, viz.
‘Sestro, December the 29th, 1724. No trade to-day, though many Traders come on board; they inform us, that the people are gone to war within land, and will bring prisoners enough in two or three days: in hopes of which we stay.
‘The 30th. No trade yet, but our Traders came on board to-day, and informed us, the people had burnt four towns of their enemies, so that to-morrow we expect slaves off. Another large ship is come in: Yesterday came in a large Londoner.
‘The 31st. Fair weather, but no trade yet: We see each night towns burning; but we hear the Sestro men are many of them killed by the inland Negroes, so that we fear this war will be unsuccessful.
‘The 2d January. Last night we saw a prodigious fire break out about eleven o’clock, and this morning see the town of Sestro burnt down to the ground, (it contained some hundreds of houses) so that we find their enemies are too hard for them at present, and consequently our trade spoiled here; so that about seven o’clock we weighed anchor, as did likewise the three other vessels, to proceed lower down.’
The second relation, also taken from the original manuscript journal of a person of credit, who went Surgeon on the same account in a vessel from New-York to the coast of Guinea, about nineteen years past, is as follows, viz.
‘Being on the coast at a place called Basalia, the Commander of the vessel, according to custom, sent a person on shore with a present to the King, acquainting him with his arrival, and letting him know, they wanted a cargo of slaves. The King promised to furnish them with slaves; and in order to do it, set out to go to war against his enemies, designing also to surprize some town, and take all the people prisoners: Some time after, the King sent them word, he had not yet met with the desired success, having been twice repulsed, in attempting to break up two towns; but that he still hoped to procure a number of slaves for them; and in this design he persisted till he met his enemies in the field, where a battle was fought, which lasted three days; during which time the engagement was so bloody, that four thousand five hundred men were slain on the spot.’ The person, that wrote the account, beheld the bodies as they lay on the field of battle. ‘Think (says he in his journal) what a pitiable sight it was, to see the widows weeping over their lost husbands, orphans deploring the loss of their fathers, &c. &c.’