“Our surgeon examined them well in all kinds to see that they were sound, wind and limb, making them jump, stretch out their arms swiftly, looking in their mouths to judge of their age; for the cappashiers are so cunning that they shave them all close before we see them, so that, let them be never so old, we can see no grey hairs in their heads or beards, and then, having liquored them well and sleek with palm oil, 'tis no easy matter to know an old one from a middle-aged one but by the teeth's decay... therefore our surgeon is forced to examine... both men and women with the nicest scrutiny which is a great slavery but can't be omitted.”

“This place where the slaves were kept day and night,” he records, putting the matter very plainly, “was so foul that I often fainted with the horrid stink of the negroes.” And he was a hard-bitten sailor of the seventeenth century accustomed to the close evil-smelling ships of his period! But he has no particular word of pity for the closely-herded negroes whose condition produced such a state of affairs.

“We marked the slaves we had bought in the breast or shoulder with a hot iron having the letter of the ship's name upon it, the place being before anointed with a little palm oil which caused but little pain, the mark being usually well in four or five days, appearing very plain and white after.” And this is an allegory surely. The mark that slavery made has always appeared very plain after.

And when the surf allowed, the slaves were marched down to the shore and “our canoes carry them off to the long boat, and she conveyed them aboard ship where the men were all put in irons two and two, shackled together, to prevent their mutiny or swimming ashore.”

“The negroes are so wilful and loth to leave their own country,” he records mournfully as a man who may expect sympathy, “that they have often leaped out of the canoe, boat, and ship, into the sea, and kept under water till they were drowned, to avoid being taken up and saved by our boats which pursued them, they having a more dreadful apprehension of Barbadoes than we can have of hell, tho' in reality they live much better there than in their own country.” The shackling as an introduction to this improved home life was perhaps not calculated to inspire confidence. “But home is home,” moralises Phillips. “We have likewise seen divers of them eaten by sharks, of which a prodigious number kept about the ships in this place. We had about twelve negroes did wilfully drown themselves, and others starved themselves to death, for 'tis their belief that when they die they return home to their own country and friends again. I have been informed that some commanders have cut off the legs of the most wilful to terrify the rest, for they believe if they lose a member they cannot return home again. I was advised by some of my officers to do the same, but I could not be persuaded to entertain the least thoughts of it, much less to put in practice such barbarous cruelty to poor creatures who, excepting their want of Christianity, true religion (their misfortune, more than fault) are as much the works of God's Hands and no doubt as dear to Him as ourselves.” Surprising words from a slaver!

He himself has but a poor opinion of the men of his calling.

“They commonly undermine, betray, and outbid one another,” he writes, “and the Guiney commanders' words and promises are the least to be depended upon of any I know use the sea, for they would deceive their fathers in their trade if they could.”

And then when the slaves were on board, and the grey castles were down on the horizon, and the long, long voyage was begun, there were troubles not only for the wretched merchandise, but for those who carried them.

“When our slaves are aboard,” he says again, “we shackle them two and two while we lie in port, and in sight of their own country, for 'tis then they attempt to make their escape or mutiny, to prevent which we always keep sentinels upon the hatchways, and have a chest of small arms ready loaden and trim'd, constantly lying at hand upon the quarterdeck together with some granada shells, and two of our quarterdeck guns pointing on the deck thence, and two more out of the steerage, the door of which is always kept shut and well barred.

“They are fed twice a day, at 10 in the morning, and 4 in the evening, which is the time they are apt to mutiny, being all upon the deck; therefore, all that time what of our men who are not employed in distributing their victuals to them and settling them, stand to their arms with lighted matches at the great guns that yawn upon them, loaden with cartridge, till they have done and gone below to their kennels between decks.”