want of supplies and the action of the English Government. Some were in
favour of still carrying out the project, and these drew up a petition
to the king, giving it for presentation to Lord Hamilton. William the
Third, however, refused not only to receive the petition, but even to
grant an audience to its bearer. Lord Hamilton would not be put off,
however, but watched for his opportunity, and found it one day as the
king was mounting his horse. He laid the petition on the saddle, which
made His Majesty cry out, "Now, by heaven, this young man is too bold,"
adding in a softer tone, "if a man can be too bold in the service of his
country." With that he threw the document from him and rode off,
afterwards, when memorial after memorial came from Scotland, issuing a
Proclamation against the worry of such petitions.
Notwithstanding this refusal, another expedition was sent out, the
management of which was as bad as that of the first. But this time the
Spaniards were on the alert, and hardly had the settlers begun to put
things in order before the enemy was upon them in force. Famine and
sickness again fell upon New Edinburgh, added to the horrors of a siege,
which ultimately led to a capitulation on fair terms. But so weak were
they as the Spaniards allowed them to embark, that their late enemies
out of pity helped to heave their anchors and set their sails.
It was long before the Scotch people forgot or forgave their sister
kingdom for her action in thus frustrating their darling project.
Besides impeding the Union, it is said to have strengthened the Jacobite
feelings in the rebellions of 1715 and 1745. Even as late as the year
1788, when it was proposed to erect a monument in Edinburgh to King
William the Third and the "glorious revolution," the affair was
remembered, and some one suggested that the pedestal should have on the
one side a view of Glencoe, and on the other the Darien colony. Queen
Anne, in 1702, tried to pacify her Scotch subjects by an autograph
letter, stating that she regretted the Company's losses and
disappointments, but this did not kill the ill-feeling. As for Paterson,
in 1715 the English House of Commons voted him the sum of L18,241 as
some indemnity for his losses, but as the bill was thrown out by the
House of Lords, he got nothing.
Thus ended one of the most disastrous of British attempts to colonise
the Indies. From beginning to end it was an example of the Dutch caution
of William of Orange, as contrasted with the recklessness of Queen
Elizabeth's time or the sturdy defiance of Cromwell. The king was not
prepared to risk war for an idea, yet at the same time he would not
prohibit the expeditions.
From 1702 to 1713 there was war between England and Holland on the one
side, and France and Spain on the other. By the treaty of Utrecht,
which again brought peace, the English received the concession for the
exclusive supply of negro slaves to the Spanish colonies for thirty
years. This _Assiento_ contract was given to the Great South Sea
Company, which resulted from one of those joint-stock manias, now
epidemic in France, England, and even Holland.
The Company was projected by the Earl of Oxford in 1711, and, like the
Mississippi scheme in France, was intended to assist the Government,
which was virtually bankrupt. As yet there was no funded national debt,
but large sums were owing to the army and navy, which had been
provisionally settled by debentures, that could be discounted only at a
serious loss to the owners. Down to the establishment of the Bank of
England in 1693 no public loan existed, but this was commenced by
borrowing the capital of that institution. At the peace of Ryswick, in
1697, the public debt amounted to twenty millions, but by the time the
South Sea Company was started the arrears of pay made it half as much
again. Part of the great scheme was to advance this amount on security
of English customs duties amounting to L600,000 per annum, and a
monopoly of the Spanish trade in the Indies as far as the _Assiento_
contract would permit.
Whether the whole affair was a fraud from the commencement is doubtful;
there were certainly misrepresentations in the prospectus, either wilful
or possibly in good faith. Spain was to allow free trade to England in
four ports on the Pacific, and three vessels besides slavers were to go
to the isthmus every year--concessions never promised nor intended by
Philip the Fifth. The slave trade was a fact, and according to the
statements it would give fabulous profits.
[Illustration: MAP OF TERRA FIRMA.
(_From Gottfried's "Reisen."_)]
Visions of boundless wealth now floated before the eyes of the English
people, and they at once began to rival the French in their madness, as
they had in their colonisation. The English Government was ready to make
every possible concession because it wanted to be rid of the incubus of
thirty millions, and therefore did nothing to check the Company. As the
stock was issued it was at once bought up, and then sold again at a
considerable advance. Everybody expected to make fortunes, therefore
they must get shares at any price. Rumours of peace with Spain, and
great concessions that would bring all the riches of Peru and Mexico
into their coffers, roused them still more. Gold would soon be as
plentiful as copper, and silver as iron. The shareholders would be the
richest people the world ever saw, and every share would give dividends
of hundreds per cent. per annum. The bill making the Government
concessions was passed in April, 1720, when the stock was quoted at L310
for a hundred pound share. Strange to say, it then began to fall, but
the projectors put forth a rumour that England was about to exchange
Gibraltar for a port in Peru, and confidence was restored at once. So
great was the increased demand that another million was issued at L300
per L100 share, and these were so much run after that the fortunate
owners were at once offered double what they had paid. Then another
million was offered at L400, and in a few hours applications were
received for a million and a half.
People were so eager to invest their money that they swallowed almost
any bait thrown to them. Hundreds of bubble companies hovered on the
outskirts of the parent, among them one for settling the barren islands
of Blanco and Sal Tortugas, another to colonise Santa Cruz, and a third
to fit out vessels for the suppression of piracy. But perhaps the most
absurd was "a company for carrying on an undertaking of great advantage,
but nobody to know what it is."
Near their highest point the South Sea Shares were sold at L890, but so
many wanted to sell at that price that they soon fell to L640. This put
the directors again upon their mettle, and they set to work with fresh
rumours and pushed them up to L1,000, from which they suddenly went
down, with a few fluctuations, until utterly worthless. The treasurer of
the Company ran away to France when the blow fell, but the directors
were arrested and their estates ultimately confiscated. Thousands of
people were ruined, and the public credit received a blow from which it
took many years to recover.
Meanwhile the South Sea Company had not been altogether idle. Besides
the slave vessels they were entitled to send _one_ ship annually to the
Carthagena and Porto Bello fairs, this being called the _Navio de
permisso_. It was not to be larger than five hundred tons, yet the
Company picked out the biggest they could find and filled it with goods,
to the exclusion of food and water, which were carried in small store
vessels that waited outside the harbour. This caused a great deal of
dissatisfaction, as the English brought so much that they could
under-sell the Spanish merchants in their own market. In 1715 the
_Bedford_, nominally of six hundred tons, was seized at Carthagena on
the ground that her burden was excessive. By the Spanish measurements
the cargo was said to have amounted to 2,117-1/2 tons, and the excess
was confiscated and ordered to be sold. However, the English protested,
at the same time passing over some valuable presents to the authorities,
with the result that a remeasurement was ordered, which made the amount
only 460 tons.
In 1716 the Spaniards took Campeachy and sixty English logwood vessels,
which occasioned another war. The English claimed that they had an
undoubted right to cut logwood at that place, and that former kings had
always maintained them in this. For a long time they had quietly
possessed a part of Yucatan, uninhabited by Spaniards, and they claimed
not only the privilege of wood-cutting, but of settlement as well.
Probably the little notice taken of their attack on the Darien colony
made the Spanish authorities think England ready to bear any insult, but
they soon found out their mistake. War was declared in 1718, and all the
property of the South Sea Company, including debts, was confiscated, the
whole amounting to L850,000. This would have been a great blow to the
Company had it been genuine, but as we have seen, its mercantile
transactions were secondary considerations.
Peace was restored by the Treaty of Madrid in June 1721, when the
_Assiento_ contract was renewed in favour of the Royal Company instead
of that of the South Sea. So much dissatisfaction had been created by
the concession for a trading ship, however, that the English did not
insist upon its continuance, and therefore only slave vessels were to be
permitted to visit the Indies in future. Everything that had been seized
from the South Sea Company was to be restored, or its equivalent value
paid, but the amount actually received only came to L200,000, which did
not go far to help the unfortunate shareholders.
Thus, this small measure of free trade with the Spanish Indies came to
an end, and things went on much the same as before. English, Dutch, and
French vessels still carried on the contraband traffic, doing all they
could to evade the law, often with the assistance of the local
authorities. The Spanish settlers got their supplies so much cheaper in
this way than through the usual channels, that they were not likely to
give up buying as long as the smugglers ran the risk. At last, however,
the authorities received very strict orders to enforce the law, with the
result that vessels were often captured, their cargoes confiscated, and
crews imprisoned. Then the Spanish _guarda-costas_ claimed the right to
search vessels of other nationalities, and to confiscate them if they
found produce from their colonies on board, or other evidence that they
were carrying on illicit trade.
This led to another dispute with England, which claimed compensation for
such seizures and the abolition of the right of search. English vessels
had always resented this overhauling, and latterly several had fought
the _guarda-costas_ rather than submit, with the result that, when
captured, their crews were treated with a severity often amounting to
cruelty. In 1739 several petitions were presented to the British
Parliament, complaining of such outrages, and asking the Government to
obtain redress. Among them was one from Captain Jenkins, the master of a
Scottish vessel, who was examined by the House. His story was that he
had been boarded by a _guarda-costa_, the Spaniards from which searched
his vessel without finding anything contraband. Apparently enraged at
their discomfiture, and possibly annoyed by the jeers of the English,
they cut off one of Jenkins' ears and told him to carry it to his king
with the message that they would do the same to him if he came near the
Main. Finally, according to Jenkins' statement, he was further tortured
and threatened with death. "What did you think when you found yourself
in the hands of those barbarians?" asked a Member of the House; to which
the captain replied, "I recommended my soul to God and my cause to my
country." The severed ear he exhibited in Parliament as he had done
elsewhere whenever he told the story.
It was then stated that the losses from Spanish depredations by
plundering and the taking of fifty-two vessels, since 1728, amounted to
L340,000. In every case the masters and crews were brutally treated, and
in some cases murdered. The English demand for compensation was met by
the reply that the king had ordered inquiries to be made, and that if
any of his subjects were found guilty they would be punished according
to their deserts; also that orders would be given to conform exactly to
the treaties. It was, however, claimed that the treaty of 1667 did not
contain any clause bearing on the navigation and commerce of the Indies,
and that the English had been wrong in supposing they had a right to
sail and trade there; they were only permitted to sail to their own
islands and plantations, and were therefore subject to confiscation if
they changed their course to make for the Spanish possessions without
necessity. There were then in Havana fifteen British vessels which had
been detained on one pretext or another, and about the same time the
_Success_ from London to Virginia was captured off Montserrat, and her
captain and crew set adrift in an open boat to find their way ashore as
best they could.
In January, 1739, a convention between Great Britain and Spain was
arranged, under which the latter agreed to pay L95,000 on account of
these demands, less the value of certain vessels which they agreed to
restore. This did not satisfy the West India merchants, and they
petitioned against it. The indemnity was to be paid on the 10th of July,
but that date having passed without a settlement, Great Britain issued
letters of marque and ordered all Spanish vessels in her waters to be
seized. Spain commenced reprisals the following month, and war was
actually declared by Great Britain on the 19th of October. The
declaration stated that for several years past unjust seizures and
depredations had been carried on, and great cruelties exercised. The
British colours had been ignominiously insulted, against the laws of
nations and solemn treaties, and Spain had lately ordered British
subjects from her dominions within a shorter period than had been
covenanted by express stipulation in those treaties.
In July previous a fleet under Admiral Vernon had sailed from Spithead,
and after a short cruise off the Spanish coast, went over to the West
Indies, arriving at Antigua the 27th of September. Going on to Jamaica,
Vernon prepared for a grand raid on the Spanish settlements, leaving for
Porto Bello on the 5th of November with six vessels and 2,500 men. They
arrived on the 21st, and bombarded the forts, which made a stout
resistance; but while this was going on, the British landed and took the
town, thus compelling the forts to capitulate. Two warships and several
other vessels were captured, as well as specie to the amount of ten
thousand dollars, but the town was not pillaged, although the guns were
either taken away or rendered useless, and the forts as far as possible
demolished. This was virtually the end of that stronghold, as it was
afterwards allowed to fall into decay, to be ultimately replaced by
Chagres, Grey Town, and Colon. Later, also, the treasure from Peru had
much diminished, and the isthmus sunk in importance, especially after
the way round Cape Horn and through the Straits of Magellan was adopted
more and more.
As the dispute with Spain had arisen from her action in the Indies, so
retaliation on the part of Great Britain was greatest on the Main. In
February, 1740, Vernon again sailed from Jamaica, and on the 6th of
March bombarded Santa Martha, but did not capture it. After repairing
damages at Porto Bello he went on to Chagres, took a Spanish man-of-war
from under the guns of the fort, captured the place, and demolished it.
In January, 1741, Sir Chaloner Ogle came out from England with a fleet,
and joined him, making a force of 12,000 men in twenty-nine
sail-of-the-line besides smaller vessels.
This great fleet sailed for Hispaniola in hopes of encountering that of
Spain and France, but not finding it went on to Carthagena. This, the
other great stronghold on the Main, was guarded by two powerful
batteries, a boom across the entrance to the port, and four Spanish
men-of-war just inside. After a long cannonading the batteries were
silenced, a landing accomplished at night, and a passage made by which
the fleet entered the harbour. Here, however, further progress was
checked by sickness and disagreements among the commanders, with the
result that the siege was raised and partial success ended in miserable
failure. This was followed by another check at Santiago de Cuba, which
virtually terminated all hopes of further great exploits, although
attempts were made on La Guayra and Puerto Cabello.
Yet with all this the Spaniards undoubtedly received a great lesson.
Their men-of-war were captured from under their fortresses, and small
English or colonial vessels performed such deeds of daring as had hardly
been equalled since the Elizabethan age. The old spirit still existed
although it might lie dormant for a time--the men were there when the
hour came. In 1740 Captain Hall in a New England privateer came to an
anchor under the fort of Puerto de la Plata, pretending to be a Caracas
trader. He wanted to land in the night and surprise the town, but found
that the inhabitants kept such a good watch that he had to give up that
idea. However, the Governor was sick and sent to ask the loan of Hall's
surgeon, and here was the opportunity he wanted. The surgeon,
quartermaster, and an interpreter visited the Governor, and at the same
time seven of Hall's crew landed and surprised the fort, dismounted the
guns, marched into the town and plundered it, finally escaping with the
loss of only one man.
Peace was at last concluded on the 7th of October, 1748, but nothing was
said in the treaty of the right of search. The _Assiento_ contract was
confirmed, and one English trading ship allowed as formerly; free trade
with the Indies, however, was still one of those things which could
never be conceded.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
X.
SLAVE INSURRECTIONS AND BUSH NEGROES.
With war almost continuously raging at their very doors the West Indian
planters not only risked their fortunes but their lives. During the
seventeenth century England spent something like thirty-five years in
fighting her enemies, and in the eighteenth, forty-six. As long as the
quarrel was with Spain alone the colonists cared but little, but when
France turned against them the struggle was much fiercer. The French
were always most audacious in their assaults, and the consequences were
all the more disastrous because they were such near neighbours. We have
already spoken of St. Kitt's and the difficulties produced on that
island by its division between the two nationalities. These were only
terminated by its entire cession to England, which did not take place
until the peace of Utrecht in 1713. Meanwhile, besides the two defeats
of the English already mentioned, they were driven out in 1689, to
return the following year and expel the enemy, retaining entire control
until the peace of Ryswick gave France again her share. Then in 1702
England once more held full possession until the island was assured to
her entirely.
Barbados, alone among the British West Indian islands, stands in the
proud position of a colony that has never fallen into the hands of
another nation. It has never even been seriously attacked beyond the
attempt of De Ruyter. And yet the island was poorly fortified, as
compared with the great strongholds of the West Indies such as
Carthagena and Curacao. Possibly "the game was not worth the candle,"
for on the one hand there was little plunder to be had, and on the other
a strong force of hardy Englishmen to be encountered. We have seen
already how the Parliamentary fleet was kept at bay, and what an amount
of trouble the islanders gave before they capitulated. Even then they
were not actually conquered, although there could be no question as to
the ultimate result.
But not only had the colonists to stand up against the enemy from
outside, but there was another danger which lay within their plantations
and dwellings from which even Barbados was not free. The slaves had to
be kept under subjection, and the planters must always be on the alert
to anticipate riots and insurrections. For although the negro in most
cases was submissive, at times he recovered that savage nature which had
only been suppressed by force and discipline.
When we read of flogging to death and other horrible cruelties of the
planters and authorities, we are inclined to sympathise with the African
and look upon his masters as worse than brutes. But to appreciate the
full significance of these punishments we must judge them by the codes
in existence at the time, remembering that nothing was ever done to the
blacks that had not also been endured by whites for similar crimes.
True, these punishments were retained for slaves after they had become
obsolete for Europeans, but then the negro was undoubtedly stubborn and
less amenable to persuasion than any other race. Like a mule he had to
be broken in and trained, and like that stubborn animal he often gave
great trouble in the process. There were differences of opinion as to
various ways of teaching the negro, and it was only a long experience
that ultimately led to gentle conciliation instead of flogging.
[Illustration: A REBEL NEGRO
(_From Stedman's "Surinam."_)]
The slaves often ran away, and had to be hunted for and brought back. In
the larger islands and on the Main they hid in the forest and swamp,
where they formed communities, to which other runaways flocked until
they became strong enough to hold their own. From these recesses they
often came forth to pillage the plantations, murder the whites, and get
the slaves to go off with them in a body. If the buccaneer was ferocious
he had at least some method in his madness; the poor ignorant African,
on the contrary, let his passions dominate him entirely. In revenge for
fancied tyrannies he would commit the most atrocious crimes, torturing
his prisoners by cutting them to pieces or even flaying while they still
lived.
Is it any wonder that when caught the bush negro or maroon was severely
punished, and that the utmost rigour of the law was exercised? As for
flogging, every one knows how common that was at the beginning of the
present century. Some of us can even look back to a time when the use of
the rod and whip on delicate children was a matter of course. Even fine
ladies took their little ones to see executions that now horrify us to
think of; in a similar way the planter's wife stood at her window to see
the punishment of her house-servant.
We could tell of negroes burnt to death, where a downpour of rain put
out the fires and left them to linger in torment for hours, of taking
pieces of flesh from the unhappy criminals with red-hot pincers, and,
most horrible of all, breaking on the wheel. These punishments often
took place in the middle of a town, but only on one occasion have we
seen any mention of the horror of the scene, and this referred to the
smell of burning flesh. Yet the criminals--for it must be remembered
that they had been legally convicted and sentenced--showed a stoical
indifference to pain almost incredible. As savages they gloried in
showing their ability to endure torture, only craving sometimes for a
pipe of tobacco to hold between their teeth until it fell.
[Illustration: THE EXECUTION OF BREAKING ON THE RACK.
(_From Stedman's "Surinam."_)]