The Jews in America Trilogy

by Birmingham, Stephen;

  Slaves were driven on foot to these castles from their villages in the interior. For this most dreadful stage of their long journey, during which the greatest loss of life occurred, their herdsmen were almost always their own people. The most demoralized positions in the entire slave trade fell to these men. As for the native chieftain who sold off members of his tribe for barrels of rum, he was almost as remote from the death and torture of the business as the powdered and bewigged ladies and gentlemen back in Newport, chatting over teacups, the leaders of business and society who were enjoying the gratifying monetary fruits of the operation at the other end. White or black, slavery was the creation of the nabobs.

  On the African coast, price negotiations were in the hands of the slaver captain and the resident governor of the castle. It was all very businesslike, and there were fluctuations in the market just as there were in every other commodity. Sometimes it took months for a satisfactory deal to be completed, but once it was, the slaves were loaded aboard with great dispatch. A captain who “lost” his slaves for any reason was, understandably, not assured a precisely warm welcome back in Newport, and so some care was taken for the slaves’ well-being, but no more care than was economically feasible. Slave quarters were in spaces between the decks, three to three and a half feet high. Men were stretched out on their backs, in spaces eighteen inches wide per man, their ankles secured by chains. Women and children lay in a separate compartment, equally crowded but unchained. The journey across the Atlantic took anywhere from six to ten weeks, depending on the weather. Sometimes, if the captain was a lenient one, the prisoners were allowed above decks for short periods to get exercise and a breath of fresh air. Often, during these moments, prisoners tried to fling themselves overboard into the sea. Uncooperative prisoners were punished in such bizarre ways as being tied to ships’ anchor chains and dragged in the wake.

  There were equally bizarre dangers to be encountered by those employed at various points of the slaving triangle. One of Aaron Lopez’ Da Costa cousins, who helped her husband with his end of the business in Kingston, Jamaica, and who happened to be pregnant at the time, one night “went to draw rum to adulterate for the Sunday sale of slaves”* by candlelight. A spark from her candle dropped into the high-proof rum, and the rum, along with the unfortunate woman, went up in flames. Mrs. Da Costa very nearly did for Kingston what Mrs. O’Leary’s cow later did for Chicago, for nearby were “rum, brandy and gin shops by the score” which contained thousands of inflammable gallons. Luckily, the “eingine” arrived quickly and the fire was extinguished, though too late to save the lady.

  In this, Newport’s leading, highly respected, even fashionable industry, young Aaron Lopez—enterprising, handsome, with dark hair, high cheekbones, and large, dark, commanding eyes; small and wiry—was an early success. From the pennies saved while working with his cousin Jacob Rivera, he had been able, within two years, to become a partner in the purchase of the ship Ann, described in her bill of sale as “A double deck new brigantine about 113 tons burthen … completely finished for the African trade … to be sheathed with inch pine boards or ½ inch cedar … the awning, a second boat, caboose, colors, small arms, chains and hand cuffs [these items are underscored in the bill of sale] and every other small utensil to be excluded and provided by the Captain.” Not even the implements of imprisonment were dealt in by the owner.*

  At 113 tons, the Ann was probably about seventy feet in length, a small ship for such long voyages, but few slave ships were larger. Her cost to Aaron Lopez was quoted at “£690 Sterling,” not even half the profit that could be made from a single load of slaves. On November 27, 1772, nine months after she had been ordered, the Ann lay ready to sail in Newport harbor, her decks loaded with such items as Madeira wine, brown sugar, molasses, vinegar, thirty sheep, thirty-nine turkeys, twenty-eight geese, twenty-one ducks. But the largest item, which caused the Ann to ride low in the water, was “98 hogsheads and 14 tierces New England Rum,” approximately 11,000 gallons, weighing over forty tons. Lopez made a brief inspection of his new ship—probably the last he ever saw of her—and turned her over to his captain, a sturdy Yankee named William Einglish, with the following orders:

  Sir:

  Our brig the Ann, of which you are at present the master, being loaded and ready for the Seas, Our orders to you are, That you Embrace the first fair wind and make the best of your way to the Coast of Africa; and as we have no opinion of the windward Coast trade, we think it advisable, that as soon as you procure the necessary rice that you proceed without delay to Anamoboe Road; when please God you arrive there safe Convert your cargo into good Slaves; on the best terms you can; you are not insensible that lying any considerable time on the Coast is not only attended with a very heavy expense, but also great risk of Slaves you may have on board. We therefore would recommend to you dispatch, even if you are obliged to give a few gallons more or less on each slave.…

  Obviously, a great deal depended on the reliability of the captain, and there is no way of telling how many of these men were able successfully to cheat their owners. But Einglish seems to have been an honest man. His orders went on to explain that a certain David Mill, governor of one of the coast castles, still owed Lopez’ cousin Jacob Rivera “twenty-seven men and thirteen women slaves” from an earlier shipment which had arrived short that number. These, Lopez asserted, Mill would “immediately deliver” to Captain Einglish, and he was sure of this “from Mr. Mill’s universal character.” In order that these forty not be confused with the rest of the shipment, Lopez instructed the captain to “put some distinguishing mark” on those, “that we may distinguish them from those of the cargo.”

  The bookkeeping was then explained. Two-thirds of the regular cargo were to be bought on Lopez’ account, and the remaining third were to be charged to Jacob Rivera. The forty owed slaves were to be credited to each man equally. All slaves, the orders advised, were to be sold in the slave market of Savannah La Mar, Jamaica, and the Ann was to return to Newport “clean of them.”

  It would be romantic and wrong to picture Captain Einglish as a demon. Actually, his approach to the business was crisp and dispassionate. He had a job to do. He was meticulous in his record keeping, and anything that smacked of inefficiency or wasted motion annoyed him. In his first report to Lopez, dated January 14, 1773, Einglish wrote: “After a voyage of forty days I arrived at the Islands of Deloes on the windward Coast of Africa, where I furnished myself with what rice I think will be sufficient for my voyage [rice, and a little mutton, comprised the diet of the captured slaves], and shall sail this day for the Gold Coast, wind and weather permitting.” Rumors, he said, had reached him that business was “very Dull for our Trade,” and that ships were being forced to move further eastward along the coast in search of slaves. “The lowest price that they asked for slaves here,” he wrote, “is a hundred and fifty barrels, which is equal to two hundred gallons of Rum.” He went on to report that “Various Gales of Wind” had meant that “the greatest part of my Turkeys Perished, Also Lost the 30 Bundles of Hay the Fourth day after I sail’d. I have still on board twenty-eight sheep with the greatest part of the Geese and Ducks which I expect to deliver in good order.” This meant that only two sheep had been butchered and consumed during the crossing, a commendably thrifty record.

  Two months later, in March, Einglish wrote to Lopez from Anamabu, a village still standing on the Gold Coast, saying: “I arrived at Cape Corse Castle on the 12th of February, where on my arrival applied to Governor Mill and gave him the offer of my cargo on Various Terms, from one hundred and eighty gallons to two hundred for men and in proportion for women,” who were always sold for somewhat less. Mr. Mill, it turned out, despite his “universal character,” was somewhat overextended. He owed slaves to captains in all directions—including, of course, the forty to Lopez and Rivera—and the best he could promise Einglish, the captain reported to his employer, was that after every ship, in its proper turn, had received its share, he might be able to
supply Einglish with some “in about Eighteen Months.” As for the forty short from the previous order, Mill replied vaguely that he would have them for Einglish when Einglish was “ready to sail.”

  Anamabu that spring was understocked with slaves and overstocked with rum. Wrote Einglish: “Here is very poor times for every fort and private house is stocked with Rum … there is no selling of Rum nor anything else. I have not been five nights on board since my arrival but continually cruising from one fort to another striving to sell my Cargo.” The more he cruised, apparently, the higher the price of slaves became and the longer the wait for delivery. From a deal which he reports “I struck with Mr. Henrick Woortman,” he exchanged four thousand gallons at the rate of “two hundred gallon for men and one hundred and eighty for women, payable in three months.” From “Various private traders,” he was able to get a few more at a slightly lower price—“190 Gallon and 195 for men and in proportion for women”—but soon the price jumped again to 210 gallons for men slaves, and a three-month delay. He wrote to Lopez and Rivera: “Gentlemen, I have but five Slaves on board and God knows when I shall have five more for the Country Trade is so dull and Slaves scarce.” He added that his supply of sheep was now down to twenty-seven, along with sixteen geese, twelve ducks, and five turkeys.

  Two weeks later, Einglish wrote to Lopez that he had bought ten more slaves, bringing the total on board to fifteen, and that he was about to deliver Mr. Woortman’s rum at his castle. “If Mr. Woortman pays me according to agreement,” he noted somewhat nervously, “I shall sail the Beginning of June.” The rum market continued depressed and, “There is no Governor, neither English Nor Dutch that will take Rum for present pay.” The same went for “Lisbon wine,” though the captain noted a better market for “wine that will pass for Madeira.” The price of rum was driven further downward by the arrival of two more vessels, one from Boston and one “of Mr. Brown of Newport,” both loaded to the gunwales with hogsheads of the stuff and, of course, when rum prices dropped, slave prices rose.

  By the middle of May—Einglish had been at anchor over two months—thirty slaves were on board the Ann. Governor Mill had still not delivered the forty slaves he owed Aaron Lopez and Jacob Rivera, and Captain Einglish was still anxiously awaiting delivery from Mr. Woortman, which was promised for May 28. There was more bad news. Captain Einglish’s chief mate, whom Einglish describes as “a worthless Drunking fellow,” had, in a moment of bibulous carelessness, been responsible for the loss of the Ann’s longboat and a load of valuable provisions. “I dispatched him,” Einglish writes, “to Cape Cord in the Long Boat for water and to settle some business there that I could not leave the vessel to tend, his boat being well fitted with everything that I thought necessary, and had in Twenty Three water casks, two barrels flour, one box soap, and fifty pounds of coffee, which goods he was to deliver and receive the Gold.” However, “In one of his drunking frollicks, carrying more sail than Good Judgment would allow him, he took in a large quantity of water and stood so nigh the shore that he was almost in the breakers, whereupon the natives perceiving came off with a number of canoes and several of them boarding the boat on one side, and she already waterlogged, readily overset and Every shilling’s worth lost to the Great Determent of the Voyage. For now I am obliged to hire a canoe and employ a number of Blacks that I should have had no occasion for.” To add to his indignation, he noted that the price of slaves had climbed to 230 gallons a head.

  By June 6, Einglish had forty-one slaves on board, and Woortman was eight days past his deadline, promising delivery now “in a few days.” Mr. Mill, too, was dragging his feet, and the captain wrote to his employer in Newport: “I waited on Governor Mill two days ago for the slaves due, but did not receive them, although his promise to me was that I should have them whenever demanded.” If Mill’s response seemed suspiciously evasive, Einglish’s counter-move against Mill was properly aggressive. He applied to Mill for payment of the sunken longboat, claiming that it was the natives, who were in Mill’s charge, climbing aboard on one side that had caused the boat to sink, not the chief mate’s drunkenness and poor judgment. Mill agreed that the “Natives should be made to pay,” and Einglish seems to have concluded that this was quite just since “they were concerned in a most Vilanous Action in plundering and oversetting her.” Einglish concludes with a prayer that no more rum might arrive from New England to further drive down the price.

  On July 12, Governor Mill wrote to Lopez and Rivera explaining that he was once again sending the firm a short shipment. “I have only been able, trade being so bad,” he said, “to pay Captain Einglish 30 of the 40 slaves owed … and hope the detention of those ten will be no loss to you. If it is I will thankfully pay you. I have paid for the stock and I hope to your satisfaction.” He does not mention paying for the longboat. The same day, Captain Einglish added to the list what his hold contained: “19 men slaves, marked ‘0’ on the right thigh, also 11 women marked ditto. Being marked and numbered as in the margin, and are to be delivered in the like good order and well conditioned at the port of Kingston in Jamaica (mortality, insurrection, and the danger of the seas only excepted).”

  The Woortman delivery must have been made soon after because, on July 15, Captain Einglish set sail from Anamabu, where he had spent just over five months, with a load of ninety-five slaves comprising, in addition to the thirty from Mill, “33 men slaves, 2 boys, 27 women, and 3 girl slaves.” All, he noted, “is very good and healthy at present and have not lost one slave yet. Thank God for it.”

  It took Einglish eighty-five days, in heavy weather most of the way, to make the westward journey across the Atlantic to Jamaica. Once there he was forced to report that he had had “the misfortune of burying six slaves on my passage,” five of them from the regular cargo and one of the group marked “0”—probably by branding—on the right thigh. Of the remainder, he commented that they were “for the great part in good health and well liked by the gentleman who intends to purchase.… By what I can learn from several gentlemen that has seen the slaves they will sell to good advantage—the 13th Inst. is the Day for Sale.” A few weeks later, however, the captain’s report from Jamaica indicated that he had been somewhat optimistic in his earlier letter, as to both the state of the slaves’ health and that of the market. A disorder which Einglish characterizes only as “swelling,” and which was probably a form of scurvy or food poisoning, had afflicted many of his cargo during the crossing, and now Einglish wrote: “Gentlemen, I buried one man slave since my last, and the Swelling began to range so violent among the slaves that nine of them was sold for a mere trifle … when I arrived, there was but two slaves that had the least sign of swelling. This disorder first begun in their feet and worked upward … when got as far as their stomach they died in a few hours.” He added gloomily that “There has been three ships’ cargoes of slaves sold since my arrival, and none of their averages exceeded [ours] not five shillings in a slave. Therefor I do not think that this market is as good as the Merchants here says it ought to be.”

  Still, Captain Einglish was, according to the accounting he submitted, able to sell his remaining slaves for £3,620. Expenses amounted to £1,399, which meant a tidy profit of £1,259, or about 90 percent. He sailed from Jamaica in December and, after a brief stop at Môle Saint Nicolas, on the northwestern tip of Haiti, where he loaded the Ann with sugar, he headed home to Newport.

  * Slavery was brought to the colonies by the English. England did get around to abolishing slavery somewhat before the United States did, in 1807. Denmark was the first nation to abolish slavery, in 1792. The northern American states, meanwhile, starting with Vermont in 1777 and ending with New Jersey in 1804, all had adopted state abolition laws before Great Britain did.

  * Undoubtedly to thin it with water.

  * There was an ancient Talmudic principle involved here. For centuries the rabbinate decreed that when a Jew was involved in the human slave trade, he could not go below certain standards of humanity and de
cency. The Jew could deal in slaves as a business—as everyone else did—but he could not be involved in their punishment or torture. In the tenth century, for instance, there was a great vogue for blond eunuch slaves. They were used in harems and for homosexual purposes. The Jews of the Orient and Middle East were disturbed by this trade, and went to their rabbis for guidance. They were advised that it was permissible for them to buy and sell eunuchs, but that they were under no circumstances to be involved with the performance of castrations. The rabbis told them, “Let the guy do that.”

  9

  ALLARUMS AND RAVAGES

  Aaron Lopez’ ships made yearly visits to Africa in this fashion and, from his modest beginning with the Ann, his fleet grew to the point where, at the height of his career, just before the first guns of the American Revolution, he owned, or partly owned, more than thirty vessels in what was called the “African Trade,” or, more euphemistically, the “West Indian Trade.”

  As his fortune grew, so did the size of his family. He seems to have been cut out to be a patriarch on the grandest scale, and doubtless envisioned each new son as a future asset to his business. His first wife, Anna, bore him eight children before she died—in childbirth—in 1762. She, of course, had been Aaron’s cousin, and Aaron next married another cousin, Sally Rivera, some sixteen years his junior, the daughter of his business associate, Jacob Rodriguez Rivera. Thus his partner became his father-in-law.