It has been asserted, that the Slave Trade is a desirable employ, and a
nursery for our seamen.
Were this the case, sailors would be found as willing to offer
themselves to this, as to any other traffic. But the direct contrary is
the fact. Nothing is more difficult than to procure a sufficient number
of hands for a Guinea voyage.
To collect a crew for this purpose, there are public houses, under the
influence, and in the pay of the merchants; every allurement and
artifice is held out to entice them into these infamous dens. Festivity
and music lay hold of the deluded senses; prostitution throws in a
fascinating spell with too much success; and intoxication generally
gives the business its fatal period.
In these houses, every temptation to run into debt is most studiously
offered; this, with an unthinking sailor, is easily brought about: and
when once that wheel is set in motion, it is soon accelerated to the
wretched point which was aimed at. When the debt is sufficient for the
purpose, a Guinea ship is offered, sometimes through the medium of the
inexorable hostess, and frequently by one of those numerous agents on
that business, who, under the mask of pity or sudden friendship, win the
attention and confidence of the unsuspecting victim. If this be refused,
he is thrown into prison, which fixes him their own; for, from that
place, other vessels will scarcely engage him; ships in every other
employ find seamen willing enough to _offer_ their services: and the
Captains of these have a natural objection to what they call
_jail-birds_.
These houses are kept in continual operation. But, at the immediate time
of an outfit, every exertion and contrivance is used. Merchants, Clerks,
Captains, and others, prowl about without intermission. They lay hold of
every sailor they meet, and without ceremony, hurry him into some scene
of intoxication. I have been dragged into houses three times, in the
course of one street, myself: nay, I have known many seamen, who fancied
themselves cunning enough to evade these practices, go with the crimps
to some of their houses, boasting that they would cheat the Merchant out
of a night's merriment, and firmly resolved to oppose every artifice
that could be offered; yet have they, in their state of drunkenness,
signed articles with the very men, whose purposes they were aware of,
and have been plunged into a situation, of which they had known the
horrors.
In Liverpool—and I understand that the same practice prevails at
Bristol—when they have signed articles, they get a note for their
advance-money, not payable till they are out at sea, and till a list of
the crew is brought back by the pilot. Now, to negotiate this bill,
which is to pay their debts, and to furnish themselves with a few
clothes, and a little modicum of liquor, they are obliged to make a
will, and power of attorney, in favour of their rapacious landlady. The
third mate of the vessel I sailed in—poor _Russel_!—and myself, were
obliged to give into this practice. Without any idea of debt, and far
from any of those hired dens I have mentioned, but rather reputably
lodged in what they called a coffee-house, we found it absolutely
necessary, in order to live with any degree of ease and comfort, to make
wills in favour of our landlady: it was expected as a thing of course,
and was impossible to be avoided moderately. Her brewer, a man of
credit, was the witness and leader of the business and seemed to
consider it as an essential consequence of the voyage. It is true, we
cancelled them soon by new ones: but this may serve to shew the
prevalency of the practice, and may help to exhibit to the public, the
disinterested characters of that numerous body of men, women, and
children, who have with such cogent arguments signed the Liverpool
petition against the abolition of the Slave Trade:—those whip-cord
spinners, those chain-forgers, those heirs and legatees, deriving
inheritance from the cruelty, murder, and injustice of a Guinea voyage.