Abigail Swingen is Assistant Professor of History at Texas Tech University. This essay draws from her book, Competing Visions of Empire: Labor, Slavery, and the Origins of the British Atlantic Empire, forthcoming from Yale University Press in 2015.
In June 1694, during the Nine Years’ War (1689-1697), nearly 3,000 French troops invaded and ransacked the English colony of Jamaica. Sir William Beeston, the island’s governor, reported that over the course of a six-week siege the French “have done this country and people a spoil that cannot soon be estimated, they have wholly destroyed 50 sugar works besides many other plantations, and burnt all wherever they came and killed with barbarous inhumanity all the living creatures they could meet with.” Despite this devastating incursion, the French were unable to conquer the vulnerable island. The Jamaican militia was successful because Beeston and his officers relied not only on indentured servants and former servants to fill the musters, but also on a number of enslaved Africans, or as Beeston put it, “Negroes as could be trusted.” Just how many slaves were armed was unclear, but Beeston claimed that the colony suffered about one hundred casualties overall, including “Christians, Jews, and Negroes.” Relying on arming slaves in times of war was both worrisome and costly for colonial governors. But it seems Beeston was left with little choice. It has been estimated that by 1690 Jamaica had a population of about 10,000 whites and 30,000 blacks, most of whom were slaves.i
Although most English colonies had laws prohibiting slaves and free blacks from owning and using weapons, such laws were frequently overlooked at times of war or internal emergencies, sometimes even during slave uprisings. Scholars have rightfully stressed the contradictions inherent in giving weapons to enslaved people and ordering them to fight and defend a system of white mastery that kept them violently oppressed.ii But it is also worth considering metropolitan events and concerns that contributed to the phenomenon in an imperial context. Why were there so few servants to fill the West Indies militias during the Nine Years’ War? While the imperial aftermath of the Glorious Revolution of 1688/89 is usually remembered for widespread political upheaval in many North American colonies, the prolonged wars against France that followed the Revolution also had a significant impact on the West Indies.iii But Jamaica, Barbados, and the Leeward Islands were left almost entirely to their own devices to defend themselves. And protracted war threw a long-standing situation into stark relief: the diminishing number of white people in the English West Indies, especially when compared to the growing populations of African slaves. Throughout the 1690s, colonial officials complained to imperial authorities that they desperately needed more servants to fill their militias. Yet there were only half-hearted attempts to address these grievances. In striking contrast, the African slave trade continued to be expanded and promoted by merchants, planters, and the state. This essay explores why this was the case by placing the phenomenon of arming slaves and neglect of the colonial theatre of war more broadly in the context of the politics of the transatlantic slave trade during the 1690s.
The use of slave soldiers in Jamaica in 1694 was not the only time governors in the West Indies accused imperial authorities of military negligence during the Nine Years’ War. “Our militia is in a lamentable condition,” Governor James Kendall of Barbados wrote in the summer of 1690, “and unless we can have servants from England or Scotland it is impossible to make them more considerable.” Two years later the colony’s agents in London warned that Barbados was threatened by the “extreme hazard both from the enemy, & Negroes, for want of [white] men.” They lamented “the difficulties of getting white servants even in times of peace: but now since the war they are upon no terms to be had. For that sort of people that did use [sic] to go to the plantations go now into the Armies.”iv In other words, the colonies were losing out to the war in Europe. At the outbreak of the war, Barbados had a population of approximately 20,000 whites and 50,000 blacks.v In March 1693, the island’s agents in London made a formal request that a regiment be sent from England for the “defense and safety” of Barbados. “The sending of these men,” the agents emphasized some months later, “is of very great importance to the whole nation, for without it that island must be lost, and consequently all the sugar plantations, which would be a great blow to England.” The following year, a regiment of about two hundred soldiers was sent to Barbados and remained for two years. It was the only such regiment sent to the colony until the late eighteenth century.vi
As far as Governor Kendall was concerned, the immediate cause of the diminishing number of white men in Barbados was their forced recruitment into military service to protect other colonies, particularly the Leeward Islands. The Leeward Islands—St. Christopher, Antigua, Montserrat, and Nevis—were by far the most vulnerable to French attack of all of the English West Indies during the war, primarily because St. Christopher was jointly-occupied by the French and the English. The colony was also sparsely populated in 1690, with about 8,700 whites and 15,000 blacks scattered over the four small islands.vii The English in fact lost St. Christopher to the French when war broke out in the summer of 1689. A small fleet was sent from England with a regiment to attempt to retake the island, but Kendall, who sailed with this contingent, was shocked to discover that “Never was a regiment so carelessly sent out or so extremely neglected.” Little wonder colonial governors had to rely on each other’s resources. The governor of the Leeward Islands, Christopher Codrington, only regained control of St. Christopher the following year with the help of men from colonies like Barbados. After successfully re-capturing the island, Codrington continued to beg both Barbados and Jamaica to send men to maintain the security of the island. “Had I sufficient force in my own Government I should not ask for the aid of my neighbours,” he complained.viii
Governors Beeston, Kendall, and Codrington highlighted a significant problem in their colonies. Yet imperial authorities seemed incapable to address the situation adequately. Despite the significant growth of the army and navy during the 1690s, England did not have the martial capability let alone the manpower to supply military efforts in two far corners of the globe. Historians who have noted England’s neglect of its colonial theatre during the Nine Years’ War have tended to emphasize the European priorities of William III’s regime.ix As the Nine Years’ War was fought to contain Louis XIV’s aspirations of universal monarchy in Europe, the continent received the bulk of military resources. This was well noted, and criticized, by many contemporaries. Throughout the 1690s, critics attacked William III’s costly strategy of maintaining large land armies in Europe, not to mention the obvious lack of decisive victories for England and its allies. The interrelated questions of financing the war and changing strategy were central to the debate. One anonymous pamphleteer wrote in 1695 that “Now we see all corners of Europe crouded with listed, disciplined and standing Armies in Pay, which […] cannot be done without huge Funds of Money.” Because “Money is now more than ever the Nerve of War,” this writer continued, the question remained how best to secure the funds needed to win a large international conflict. He concluded that England should do its best to protect overseas trade and improve naval prowess, for “Trade [is] the great Minister of Wealth,” and “Trade and Power at Sea are productive one of another.”x
Many other writers came to the same conclusion: nations grew wealthy through trade and therefore trade needed to be well-managed to raise the money necessary to fight and win wars. Several focused on the need to protect and defend England’s overseas and colonial trades through the use of convoys. England’s merchant marine in both the Atlantic and Mediterranean was extremely vulnerable to French attack during the war, and English losses were high throughout the decade. A key corollary to these proposals was the importance of focusing on England’s navy rather than the army. In Parliament, this “blue water” strategy was especially embraced by Tories and others who were critical of the Court Whigs and had grown wary of the costs of maintaining large armies in Europe. In drawing attention to the need to better manage and protect colonial trade, these critics emphasized the importance of the American colonies, especially the West Indies, to England’s overall economic well-being. But despite these pleas, the government seemed unwilling or unable to provide the convoys, naval support, or manpower necessary to protect England’s overseas trade or to defend its colonies.xi
A major reason why this was the case lies in the intersection of imperial policies and the politics of the African slave trade. The Nine Years’ War coincided with a major transformation in how the English managed the transatlantic slave trade. Prior to 1689, the slave trade was ostensibly controlled by the Royal African Company, a joint-stock trading company that had been created in 1672 by royal charter from Charles II. It held a monopoly on all trade to and from Africa, and its most important commodity was African slaves. This monopoly was never complete in practice, but for nearly two decades the company exercised a tremendous about of influence over colonial governance and imperial administration.xii After the Glorious Revolution, however, the company’s status at the centre of England’s imperial designs was in doubt, in part because its governor and main advocate, James II, was no longer on the throne. All charters that had been granted by the prerogative of the Stuart kings were now under intense scrutiny of Parliament and in danger of being revoked. Throughout the 1690s, the company’s directors and their allies tried to have its monopoly re-affirmed by Parliament. The company’s campaign motivated illegal slave traders, called interlopers, along with colonial planters and their merchant allies, to combine forces and lobby for the African slave trade to remain open. This group argued that the company did not provide the colonies with enough slaves and kept prices unreasonably high.xiii
The publication of at least forty broadsides and pamphlets for and against the African Company’s monopoly throughout the 1690s indicated significant public interest in the politics and perceived economic benefits of the African slave trade.xiv Scholars who have analyzed the slave trade debates have tended to interpret them as simple disputes over commercial policy, representing classic mercantilist versus free trade disagreements, or as emerging from institutional and political changes unique to England after 1688.xv But it is crucial to consider that this public debate on the status of the slave trade coincided with the fierce disputes on the costs and conduct of the war, the importance of colonial trade, and the overall state of England’s imperial economy.
The public debate over how best to manage the slave trade revealed how the slave trade and African slavery were imagined as key elements of England’s imperial economy. Publications on both sides emphasized the importance of the transatlantic colonies, and the slave trade on which they depended, to England’s economic well being by presenting slavery as a significant reason why colonies benefited the entire realm. “That it being of so great Importance to this Nation to Encourage and Support the Plantations,” maintained one anti-company broadsheet, “it will be of absolute Necessity to have them plentifully supplied with Negroes, by whose Labour and Strength all the Commodities of those Countries are produced, which Production is all clear Gains to this Nation, and better than the Mines of Gold and Silver are to the Spaniard.” “The Trade to Africa is allowed to be of Consequence sufficient to deserve Extraordinary Care,” declared one pro-company pamphlet. “The present Question,” it continued, “is not whether it should be Preserved or not, but how it may be most Advantageous to England, and the Colonies.” Both pro- and anti-monopolist tracts made the argument that not only did the colonies need slaves, but that those colonies with slaves were especially valuable to the empire.xvi
There were of course clear differences between the two sets of pamphlets. Those opposed to reinstating the company’s monopoly tended to emphasize the company’s association with the Stuarts, particularly James II, who had just been run out of the kingdom. These ideological associations contributed to the economic decline of the company throughout the decade and helped diminish its market share in the slave trade. While the slave trade debates took place, the company’s monopoly was essentially null and void. According to data collected by David Eltis, during the 1690s approximately 70,643 African slaves arrived in the West Indies colonies in English ships. Although during the previous decade nearly 81,000 African slaves had arrived in the same colonies, these numbers are quite remarkable considering the dangers of trading during war.xvii They demonstrate that despite the war and the apparent need for white indentured servants, planters in the English West Indies colonies were more than willing to continue purchasing large numbers of slaves for their plantations. In addition, it indicates that plenty of independent merchants, many of whom had been trading illegally for decades, rushed to fill the void left by the erasure of the company’s monopoly.
The English government fully supported these developments during the Nine Years’ War. Despite the Royal African Company’s efforts, its monopoly was never reinstated by Parliament or the Crown. There were a variety of political reasons for this, not least of which was the ideological taint of the company’s association with the old Stuart regime. In addition, the company’s financial situation was desperate for most of the decade, which diminished the likelihood of any serious government support. Unlike the Bank of England or the old or new East India companies, for example, the African Company never had enough capital to present loans to the government. Offering loans during the war became a primary means for joint-stock companies to win political favour and influence.xviii But the African Company was never in an economic position to give the government much in return for re-confirming its charter. This left the company financially, commercially, as well as politically isolated in the wake of the Glorious Revolution. One can imagine that if the company had the capital to offer the government in the form of loans, those in power might have come to its aid. During the Nine Years’ War, however, few were willing to assist the African Company.
At the same time, there were only half-hearted on the part of the government to respond to requests from the colonies for more servants to fill the militias. For example, in 1696-97, Sir Gilbert Heathcote, a powerful Whig grandee, interloping slave trader, and colonial merchant, attempted to send 1,500 English men to Jamaica, but was obstructed by the Admiralty and the Board of Trade, who argued that the costs and difficulties of such an undertaking hardly made it worthwhile. This reflected a pervasive belief that England needed to maintain its own population for economic growth and military security.xix Although the slave trade debates indicated that plenty of people felt England’s American colonies, especially the West Indies, were profitable and worth maintaining, there was also a popular suspicion that colonies drained England of its own needed workforce. This idea had been expressed as early as the 1670s, but took on a new urgency during the 1690s. For example, the economic writer Roger Coke argued in 1695 that “The Peopling our American Plantations…[has] so much dispeopled England,” that the country was now at a disadvantage.xx In fact many of the pamphlets in the slave trade debates presented the economic benefits of slavery in relation to population concerns in England. African slaves, maintained the anti-monopolist merchant John Cary, “are the hands whereby our plantations are improved, and ‘tis by their labours such great Quantities of Sugar, Tobacco, Cotton, Ginger, and Indigo, are raised, which being bulky Commodities employ great Numbers of our Ships for their transporting hither, and the greater number of ships employs the greater number of Handicraft trades at home.” The Irish Whig Sir Francis Brewster wrote in 1695 that “The Foreign Plantations add to the Strength and Treasure of the Nation, even in that of People, which is generally thought our Plantations abroad consume; but if it were considered, That by taking off one useless person [from England], for such generally go abroad, we add Twenty Blacks in the Labour and Manufacturies of this Nation, that Mistake would be removed.” In 1696 sugar bakers in Bristol argued that “the true ends of settling plantations abroad, & sparing our people to inhabit them, which was to give imployment to those who were left behind & that by raising new products there & promoting manufactures here, both might be enriched.” In other words, colonies that relied on slave labour “spared” English would-be settlers to remain at home.xxi The raw materials produced by enslaved Africans in the colonies in turn created manufacturing jobs in England, and left population available to fill armies in Europe rather than regiments to be sent to the colonies. Emigration from England was to be discouraged while the transatlantic slave trade expanded. Thus it appeared from the perspective of London that the use of slave soldiers in the colonies was a practical solution in times of emergency.
As a result of the confluence of these various concerns, and despite colonial fears of slave uprisings and foreign invasions, there were few concerted efforts on the part of imperial authorities to fill colonial militias by increasing white populations in the colonies during the Nine Years’ War. In general, such endeavours were left up to individual merchants who ultimately had little incentive to provide servants to planters who demanded African slaves. Even after the end of hostilities in 1697 when white servants again began to trickle into the West Indies colonies, planters by and large did not purchase their terms of service. “It appears that though servants are imported (as there are many at this time),” Governor Beeston reported in early 1698, “the people generally neglect the buying of them.”xxii The use of slave soldiers during the Nine Years’ War not only reflected demographic realities in the colonies. It indicated both the state’s inability and unwillingness to address the military needs of the colonies at times of war, even those colonies that were known to be profitable to the empire. The neglect of the colonial theatre of war was not only due to the high costs of such a policy and the European focus of the Revolutionary regime. It was also intimately connected to domestic population concerns as well as to the politics of the African slave trade during the 1690s.
References
i Sir William Beeston to Sir John Trenchard, 23 June 1694, The National Archives, Kew (TNA), Colonial Office (CO) 138/7, pp. 192-196; “A Narrative by Sir William Beeston of the Descent on Jamaica by the French,” 23 June 1694, British Library (BL) Add MS 12430, fols. 4-13; Beeston to the Lords of Trade, 7 August 1694, CO 137/1, fols. 190-191; John Oldmixon, The British empire in America, containing the history of the discovery, settlement, progress and state of the British colonies on the continent and islands of America (London, 1741), 2:331; G. H. Guttridge, The Colonial Policy of William III in America and the West Indies (Hamden, CT: Archon Books, 1966), 69; Peter M. Voelz, Slave and Soldier: The Military Impact of Blacks in the Colonial Americas (New York: Garland Publishing, 1993), 30; Richard S. Dunn, Sugar and Slaves: The Rise of the Planter Class in the English West Indies, 1624-1713 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1972), 163, 312, table 26.
