SLAVES LANDING FROM THE SHIP.
(From Stedman's "Surinam.")
Like the Spaniards, the English adventurers were soldiers and sailors, and therefore did not work in the field. Subject to the raids of the European claimants of the territory as well as the incursions of ferocious cannibals, they went about literally with pistols in their belts and swords at their thighs. Now they had to show a good face to some buccaneer company, and anon to fight the French or Dutch when war broke out. Later, when there was no fear of enemies from without, they had a continual dread of slave insurrections. It followed, therefore, that the planter was always on the alert, and, even if he felt inclined, could do little in the way of cultivation.
In England serfdom had virtually come to an end, and the agricultural labourer might go where he pleased. But the love of country, the unknown but magnified perils of a sea voyage, and stories of cruel Spaniards and man-eating Caribs, prevented many from going to the Indies, notwithstanding the great inducements offered. The English planters found it difficult to get negroes, as their enemy controlled the trade. As for the Indians, they had to deal with cannibals whose women cultivated small clearings, but resented anything like coercion, while no labour whatever could be got from the men. Something had to be done. If the English labourer would not come willingly, he might be kidnapped, and the carrying out of this work led to the organisation of bands of ruffians, who went sailing along the coasts, especially of Scotland and Ireland, to pick up likely fellows wherever they found opportunity. However, this caused such an outcry that extraordinary efforts were made on the part of the Government to put down "spiriting," as it was called.
In June, 1661, the Council for foreign plantations considered the best means of encouraging and furnishing people for the colonies, and they thought that felons condemned for small offences, and sturdy beggars, might be sent. They had several complaints of men, women, and children being spirited away from their masters and parents, and later the Mayor of Bristol and the Lord Mayor of London petitioned the king for authority to examine ships, with the view of finding out whether the passengers went of their own free will. It was stated that husbands forsook their wives, wives fled from their husbands, children and apprentices ran away, while unwary and credulous persons were often tempted on board by men-stealers. Many who had been pursued by hue and cry for robberies, burglaries, and breaking prison, also escaped to the plantations. Certain persons, called spirits, inveigled, and by lewd subtleties enticed, away young persons, whereby great tumults and uproars were raised in London, to the breach of the peace and the hazard of men's lives.
These abuses led to an Order in Council, published in September, 1664, for registering persons going voluntarily, and commissions were given to the Lord High Admiral and the officers of the ports to establish registration offices and give certificates. Yet the spiriting still went on, for in April, 1668, Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper was asked to move the House of Commons to make the offence capital. His petitioner, said he, had found one lost child, and after much expense and trouble, freed him, but there were several others in the same ship, and other ships in the river at the same work. Even if the parents found their children, they could not recover them without money, and he was sure that if such a law were passed the mercy to these innocents would ground a blessing on those concerned in introducing it. This Act was finally passed on the 1st of March, 1670, punishing the spirits with death without benefit of clergy.
There were, however, other means of procuring servants. In 1649, when Cromwell took Drogheda by storm, about thirty prisoners were saved from the massacre to be shipped to Barbados, and in 1651 seven or eight thousand Scots, taken at the battle of Worcester, were reserved for a similar fate. After the Restoration, however, there was an intermission in such supplies, and the planters began to look to Newgate and Bridewell for their labour supply.
The supply was by no means equal to the demand, for the agents in London of the planters of Virginia, Barbados, St. Christopher's, and other islands were equally clamorous for their share. As for King Charles the Second, he granted the prisoners as a privilege to his favourites, and even mistresses, who generally sold it to the highest bidder. The agent must have had influence to get into the presence of the holder, say of a hundred prisoners sentenced to transportation, and this was only obtainable by largess to door-keepers and servants. Then came the trouble of obtaining delivery from the prison authorities, and here again fees were demanded. In one case that is recorded the amount paid to the gaoler of Newgate was fifty-five shillings a head. But even now the trouble was only beginning. The prisoners were supposed to be delivered at the door of the gaol, and the planter was under a heavy bond not to allow one to escape. He must account for each by a certificate of death on the voyage or of landing in Barbados, on penalty of five hundred pounds for every one missing. It followed, therefore, that a sufficiently strong guard had to be provided, and provision made for attempts at rescue by the prisoners' friends. Even this was not all, for the concession simply granted a certain number, and it rested with the gaoler to palm off the old, weak, and infirm on those who were at all wanting in liberality. Then, at the best the prisoners were hatters, tailors, and haberdashers, rather than agricultural labourers, many of whom ultimately proved valueless. If a large number was available, and there were several applicants, the competition became quite spirited—every one wanted his pick before the others, and the gaoler made the best of the occasion, leaving those to whom he allotted the refuse to curse their evil fortune.
Up to the passing of the Navigation Act the Dutch had been free to trade with English colonies, and had brought a fair number of negroes; and afterwards the king established the Royal African Company to prevent the supply being cut off. The average price of the African was then about £16 or 2,400 pounds of sugar, but the Dutch sold their slaves for a little less, which led the planters to evade the Navigation Act when they had opportunities.
The white bond-servant was valued at about 2,200 pounds of sugar, very little less than the slave for life, although he had generally but five years to serve. The cost of transport was about £5 per head; it followed, therefore, that if the London agent got his prisoners cheap he made a good profit. There was also another way of making money in this business. Some of the gaol-birds had friends who were willing to pay good sums on consideration that the convict should be virtually freed on his arrival. Many a sum of fifty pounds was obtained in this way, sometimes without helping the bond-servant in the least. How were the relations to prove that the promise had not been fulfilled, and if they did so what redress could be obtained? They certainly could not go to law, as the whole transaction was illegal.
We have seen how Charles the Second tried to people Jamaica with free settlers, but this did not prevent the transportation of criminals. In 1665 four young men, who had been convicted of interrupting and abusing a preacher, were whipped through the streets of Edinburgh and afterwards sent to Barbados, and in 1684 some of the Rye House plotters were reprieved on condition that they served ten years in the West Indies. When these plotters arrived in Jamaica, the Governor, "by His Majesty's command," directed the Assembly to pass an Act "to prevent all clandestine releasements or buying out of their time," so that their punishment should not be evaded. But it was after the Monmouth rebellion, in 1685, that the greatest deportation took place. The miserable followers of the duke were executed by Judge Jeffreys until even his thirst for blood was somewhat slackened, when the remainder were sent to the plantations. The story of one of these unfortunates gives such a graphic picture of the life of a bond-servant that we cannot do better than give an outline of the "Relation of the great sufferings and strange adventures of Henry Pitman, surgeon to the late Duke of Monmouth."