Rhode Island History Journal: Spring 2021 - Volume 78 - Number 2

Rhode Island History T HE JOUR NA L O F T H E R H O D E I S LAN D HISTORICA L SOC IETY spring 2021 · volume 78 · number 2

Rhode Island History

spring 2021 · volume 78 · number 2

96 Editor’s Note Published by The Rhode Island Historical Society 110 Benevolent Street Providence, Rhode Island 02906–3152 Robert H. Sloan, Jr., chair Anthony Calendrelli, vice chair Peter J. Miniati, treasurer Winifred E. Brownell, secretary C. Morgan Grefe, executive director Publications Committee Marcus Nevius, chair Charlotte Carrington-­Farmer Robert W. Hayman J. Stanley Lemons Craig Marin Lisa Melton Seth Rockman Luther Spoehr Evelyn Sterne

97 Recent Publications on Rhode Island History 98 From Bristol to the West Indies and Back: James Dewolf and the Illegal Slave Trade Cynthia Johnson 119 Building the San Juan Plantation: A Bristol Family in Cuba, 1818–41 Nancy Kougeas 137 Finding Hope in “New Hope”: George Howe’s Diary of Life on DeWolf-­Owned Plantation in Cuba Catherine W. Zipf

Staff Richard J. Ring, editor J. D. Kay, digital imaging specialist Silvia Rees, publications assistant

opposite: Request for a deed for an enslaved man named Enrique who was sold for 4,000 pesos. Dated Mantazas, Cuba, 4 May 1820. DeWolf Papers, MSS 362, box 2, folder 36, RIHS Collections RHiX174370.

Rhode Island History is a peer-­reviewed journal published two times a year by the Rhode Island Historical Society at 110 Benevolent Street, Providence, Rhode Island 02906-­3152.

Postage is paid at Providence, Rhode Island. Society members receive each issue as a membership benefit. Institutional subscriptions to Rhode Island History are $25.00 annually.

Individual copies of current and back issues are available from the Society for $12.50 (price includes postage and handling).

Our articles are discoverable on ebscohost research databases.

Manuscripts and other correspondence should be sent to editor@rihs.org.

cover: “Cuban Plantation,” attributed to Charles DeWolf Brownell, ca. 1850. Courtesy of the Friends of Linden Place.

© The Rhode Island Historical Society Rhode Island History (issn 0035–4619)

Michael Russem, design & typography The Rhode Island Historical Society assumes no responsibility for the opinions of contributors.

Editor’s Note

I am very pleased to introduce the contributors to this issue, especially since all of the articles relate to Rhode Island’s connection to Cuba—­specifically Bristol, and the DeWolf family. This fits in with our ongoing efforts to place Rhode Island’s history in a global context.

First, however, we would like to thank Jane Lancaster, an independent scholar, for nearly twenty years of service upon her retirement last year from our Publications Committee. Fortunately, we are still able to benefit from her advice and expertise, but her research will no longer be interrupted by our meetings. The RIHS depends heavily on the volunteer service of independent scholars, academics, local historians and subject specialists, and we are continually grateful for this gift of time and expertise.

The first article is by Cynthia Mestad Johnson, an authority on James DeWolf, the nation’s most prolific slave trader. The author of James DeWolf and the Rhode Island Slave Trade, Johnson’s research on DeWolf began over a decade ago and has since expanded to encompass New England’s involvement in the slave trade during the colonial era. She was the first woman to receive a graduate degree in history from California State University San Marcos, and has taught history for twenty years.

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The second article is by Nancy Kougeas, a professional archivist who has consulted with historical organizations throughout Massachusetts and Rhode Island. Organizing the DeWolf Family Papers at the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society led to her current research—­the early ties between Bristol and Cuba. She would like to thank the Rhode Island Council for the Humanities for its support of her work on Sarah Wilson’s father, slave trader Captain John Sabens.

The final article is by award-­winning architectural historian Catherine W. Zipf, who “studies the underdogs (and the elites when they were underdogs)” of American architectural history, with a focus on race and gender. Her latest book, Frank Lloyd Wright’s Falling­water: American Architecture in the Depression Era, “examines America’s greatest architect when he was at his absolute lowest point to reveal the strategies he employed during the Great Depression and how they led to the construction of the American icon, Fallingwater.” Zipf serves as Executive Director of the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

Richard J. Ring Editor

Recent Publications on Rhode Island History

Patrick T. Conley & Paul Campbell, South Providence.

Charleston, SC: Arcadia Publishing, 2020.

Patrick T. Conley, Rhode Island’s Contributions to the Founding of the United States. Providence, RI: Rhode Island Publications Society, 2020.

Patricia Foxen, In Search of Providence: Transnational Mayan Identities. Nashville: Vanderbilt University Press, 2020.

Robert A. Geake, New England Plantations: Commerce and Slavery. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2021.

Robert W. Hayman, Catholicism in Rhode Island and the Diocese of Providence: Volume 3, 1921–1948. Pawtucket, RI: Stillwater River Publications, 2020.

Scott James, Trial by Fire: A Devastating Tragedy, 100 Lives Lost, and a 15-­year Search for Truth. New York: Thomas Dunn Books, 2020.

J. Stanley Lemons, Retracing Baptists in Rhode Island Identity, Formation, and History. Waco, TX: Baylor Univeristy Press, 2019.

Robert B. MacKay, The Golden Age of Newport Yachting: Between the Wars. Mount Pleasant, SC: Acadia Publishing, 2021.

Todd McLeish, Onne Van der Wal, & Salvatore Mancini, Saving Narragansett Bay: How People, Passion, and Perseverance Made All the Difference. Narragansett, RI: Save the Bay, 2020.

Martin Podskoch, Rhode Island Civilian Conservation Corps Camps. Podskoch Press, 2021.

Providence Journal Company, Rhode Island Memories.

Volume II: The 1940s and 1950s. Battle Ground, WA: Pediment Publishing, 2019.

Providence Journal Company, Rhode Island Memories.

Volume III: From Yurmoil to the Providence Renaissance: the 1960s through the 1990s. Battle Ground, WA: Pediment Publishing, 2020.

Patricia E. Rubertone. Native Providence: Memory, Community, and Survivance in the Northeast. Lincoln, NE.: University of Nebraska Press, 2020.

Janet Mansfield Soares, The Westminster Arcade.

Charleston, SC: The History Press, 2020.

John Tschirch, Newport: The Artful City. Lewes (UK) and Newport, RI: D. Giles Ltd. and the Newport Historical Society, 2020.

Keith Warwick, The Jewish Community in New England.

Washington, DC: Academica Press, 2020.

Terry Wolever (editor and compiler), An Anthology of the Early Baptists in Rhode Island: A Sourcebook of Early Publications. Springfield, MO: Particular Baptist Press, 2020.

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CYNTHIA MESTAD JOHNSON

From Bristol to the West Indies and Back James Dewolf and the Illegal Slave Trade

James DeWolf, of Bristol, Rhode Island, was a wealthy and infamous early figure in the American slave trade and had established himself as a major player in the unlawful trade by the turn of the nineteenth century. Unlike other slave traders, DeWolf organized a vertically integrated empire from which he controlled all aspects of the business, which ranged from, but were not limited to, insurance for vessels, rum distilleries, plantations in Cuba, and the transportation of kidnapped Africans. Not only did DeWolf own the enterprise and its ancillary divisions, but he also captained many of the voyages and was personally responsible for transporting a sizable percentage of enslaved people to American shores. Because of this tightly held control, DeWolf evaded local and federal authorities by wielding the considerable power that he had amassed as a key player in Bristol’s economy. Even today, the nature of DeWolf’s deeds have been greatly overlooked in history.

During the eighteenth century and into the nineteenth century, Rhode Island slave traders purchased and sold more enslaved than all other slave traders in the United States. In 1750, Rhode Island was recognized as a center of the slave trade, even though most enslaved were sold at other destinations in the West Indies and the American South. By 1774, Newport was known as the most active city in the slave trade of any town on the continent.1 But after 1807, Newport was eclipsed by Bristol’s DeWolf family and its leader, James. Between 1784 and 1807, DeWolf had launched four times more voyages than his closet rivals. Beginning in 1808, the year that slave trading became illegal, he began substantially increasing that number and, 98

in doing so, demonstrated a willingness to do almost anything to continue amassing economic and political power.2 The eighth of nine boys and twelfth in the line of fifteen children, James followed his father and uncle into the slaving business. With an entrepreneurial spirit, DeWolf became the sibling who was depended upon to maintain the family’s lifestyle of wealth and power.

Two of his older brothers and his younger brother assisted him in nearly every aspect of the empire.

Finding it increasingly difficult to control his destiny as a result of state and federal restrictions on the international slave trade, DeWolf became actively involved in politics. He served as a member of the House of Representatives in the State of Rhode Island for multiple terms and ultimately as a United States senator. Showing no rectitude during his campaign, DeWolf changed his political affiliation from Federalist to Republican in support of Jefferson’s quest for the White House. This move was calculated, as DeWolf had long-­range goals in mind for reciprocation.

DeWolf’s early career activities set the tone for what kind of slaver he would be. In 1790, DeWolf sailed from Africa to Havana, Cuba, on his ship, the Polly, with a new load of enslaved. As an experienced captain, DeWolf had knowledge of navigation, the possibilities of bad weather, the danger of encountering pirates, and the potential for illness among the crew and the human cargo.3 Early on in the voyage, one of the enslaved women became ill with smallpox. DeWolf quarantined her on the top deck away from the others to avoid infecting the ship’s population. To ensure that she did not expose her illness to his crew, DeWolf

James Dewolf and the Illegal Slave Trade

James DeWolf Portrait, Reverend Calbraith Perry, DeWolf Genealogy, 1902, with permission and rights owned by the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

The Polly taking on cargo of enslaved from the Guinea Coast, September 15, 1788, Jens-­Peter Kemmler, artist.

ordered that she be tied to a chair to keep her from wandering about. It was reported that DeWolf noticed that the woman, still tied to a chair, had become progressively worse. He then made the determination that she needed to be killed.4 Initially, DeWolf asked for a volunteer to carry out the task of murder, and, according to a deposition from the court, the entire crew refused, telling him that they would have nothing to do with it. DeWolf then commanded the crew to help him by ordering a crewmember to draw down a hoist with a grappling hook and assist him with the device. A gag was tied around the woman’s mouth to silence her and to ensure that if she screamed for help, the other enslaved people below deck would not hear her. He then blindfolded her as well. DeWolf next gave orders to help him with the hoist. The hook was placed into the rope at the back of where she was seated, and the woman was lifted into the air. DeWolf then ordered a crew member to help

him swing her over the side of the ship and drop her into the sea, alive. Crewmembers later reported that once the woman dropped into the sea, DeWolf stated how sorry he was to have lost such a good chair.5 Once the voyage ended and the Polly returned to Bristol, DeWolf wrote an account of the sales from his cargo of enslaved. Meticulously listing each person and the price he collected. At the bottom of his ledger, DeWolf noted that 109 enslaved people were sold for profit, that he had personally kept ten, that one was documented as infirm at the conclusion of the voyage, and that one woman was noted to have died during the voyage. DeWolf had no compulsion to hide the fact that a death on the voyage had occurred.6 In 1790, one year prior to DeWolf’s offense, the first federal Crimes Act had been passed, making it a federal offense to commit murder or other crimes upon the high seas. This act empowered the federal courts to 99

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The Polly slave ledger, photo taken by the author with permission by the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

deal directly with violators of federal laws and included no exceptions for slaveholders or slave traders. Unbeknownst to DeWolf, after the Polly’s return to Rhode Island, crew members from the fated voyage had anonymously reported the incident to the local authorities.

At the first session of the federal grand jury of Rhode Island, June 15, 1791, a deposition was taken from Thomas Gorton and Jonathan Cranston regarding what they saw.7 According to the deposition, the enslaved woman suffering from smallpox was brought above deck and tied to a chair by both DeWolf and Gorton.

The crewmen stated that she received some water to drink but that the crew paid marginal attention to her for fear of spreading the highly infectious disease.

After two days of being tied to a chair and exposed to the elements, it was noted that she became increasingly ill. The deposition concluded with the following summary of DeWolf’s crime:

death.10 Consequently, the federal grand jury in Rhode Island charged him with violation of a federal crime, and on June 16, just one day after the grand jury’s hearing, Attorney General John Jay, under the direction of President Washington, issued a warrant for DeWolf’s seizure. But, although it had been less than 10 days since the crew members gave their deposition, DeWolf could not be found. Nine days later, on June 25, 1791, a brief article on DeWolf’s murder charge appeared in the Providence Gazette:

. . . [DeWolf] not having the fear of God before his eyes, but being moved and seduced by the instigation of the Devil . . . did feloniously, willfully and of his malice aforethought, with his hands clinch and seize in and upon the body of said Negro woman . . . and did push, cast and throw her from out of said vessel into the Sea and waters of the Ocean, whereby and whereupon she then and there instantly sank, drowned and died.8 According to this deposition, DeWolf had committed a crime that was recognized by the federal government as an act of piracy and murder on the high seas.9 If found guilty by a jury, the crime was punishable by 100

The Grand Jury found a bill against James DeWolf of Bristol, in this State, for the willful murder of a Negro Woman on a late [African] Guinea Voyage.

There was not a trial on this bill as Capt. DeWolf had quitted [departed] the United States immediately after his arrival from the said voyage.11 For the next four years, 1791–95, Marshal William Peck, who was the first federally appointed Marshal in Rhode Island, reported twice a year to the Rhode Island federal court system that he was continuing to attempt to serve the arrest warrant but that he could not find DeWolf to do so.12 DeWolf remained at large.

Yet, while DeWolf continued to elude the authorities, being charged with the murder of an enslaved person was a serious impediment to his business.

This charge was an unusual accusation, as it was well-­known that captains of slaving vessels executed enslaved people with impunity. In this context, DeWolf’s case is particularly puzzling; perhaps because of his visibility, he seems to have been made an example of.13

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DeWolf’s family was privy to his whereabouts. Upon leaving Bristol, DeWolf could have gone to any number of locations. He was familiar with Spanish-­controlled Cuba, where he was known to conduct business, but he may have feared that Cuba would be a logical place for authorities to seek him out. Instead, he chose the Dutch island of St. Eustatius, known as “Statia,” not too far away from St. Thomas in the northeast corner of the Caribbean. The second smallest in a constellation of three northern islands, Statia was a Dutch-­owned leeward island in the Lesser Antilles archipelago. Made from volcanic activity with broken physical features, it had areas of lush tropical vegetation but relied on commerce from the outside world.14 The island was a logical choice for DeWolf because its residents were fluent in English and, more importantly, it was active as a slave depot—­and one he had visited before.15 Statia, nicknamed the “Golden Rock” because of its thriving port, presented certain lawful opportunities favorable to DeWolf.16 The island was different from others in the Caribbean as it maintained a constant position of political neutrality, making it open 102

and available to all nations.17 Also, the Dutch were known to follow a nonrestrictive trade policy, endowing the island with a “free port” mentality.18 This policy was economically lucrative for the entire island.

Additionally, the island boasted “slave warehouses,” which allowed Statia to function as a key market in the slave-­trade economy. After the grueling Middle Passage, slave captains could drop their sick enslaved people at the warehouse to recover and then pick them up later when they were healthy and therefore would yield higher profits when sold. Over time, a profit-­ based cycle developed where captains would exchange those previously left behind with captives from the most recent trip and sail on to slave-­market ports like Charleston.19 Although Caribbean law recognized the slave trade as legal and considered all enslaved people as personal property or chattel, it was considered a criminal offense to willfully kill a slave. However, if a man was above: Port of St. Eustatius, West Indies, circa 177? (final number illegible), Courtesy of the Library of Congress, digital call number 2012590109.

Left: Slave register from St. Eustatius, photo courtesy of Ron Wetteroth, private collection. above: Sample I.O.U. between family members on a small slip of paper, photo taken by the author with permission by the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

accused of killing an enslaved person, few showed “any willingness to recognize that it was an act of homicide or murder.”20 As a result, the crime carried no penalty, heavy or otherwise, and any attempt to protect enslaved people in the Caribbean went largely ignored.

Residents in Statia were so ambivalent regarding the laws, even those few written to protect slaves, that most did not recognize that the deliberate killing of an enslaved person was murder.21 In the Caribbean, this overarching attitude toward the enslaved supported DeWolf’s contention that he had done nothing wrong when he made the decision to throw the captive woman overboard to her death.

While the slave trade remained legal in the Caribbean, Dutch laws required a license for slaving on their islands. Through a licensing system, captains or owners of vessels could be held responsible for all fines and debts that might occur while in port.22 By law, Statia required all captains or owners of vessels who trans-

ported goods to apply for a permit once they landed.23 Upon his arrival, DeWolf applied for and was granted a permit, giving him the status of burgher (citizen), which allowed him to trade legally from the port of Statia.24 The ambitious nature of DeWolf’s entrepreneurial spirit could not be squelched as a result of his sequestration. During DeWolf’s four-­year hiatus from Bristol, his vessels embarked on nineteen known slaving voyages.25 Additionally, he regularly corresponded with his brother, John, primarily regarding personal financial matters, but he also instructed him on how his household in Bristol should be run and how to care for James’s wife and family during James’s extended absence. John’s signature, found on ledgers from general stores in Bristol, read: “John DeWolf for James DeWolf.”26 Interestingly, everything was paid for in cash, despite the availability of credit to the DeWolfs, and everything was meticulously documented no matter how small the transaction. The DeWolfs’ personal accounts were always reconciled in tedious detail and IOUs were written on even the smallest slips of paper.27 Of the many DeWolf brothers, John and the two youngest sons, James and Levi, were particularly close. If not for the constant devotion and commitment by younger brother Levi and older brother John to James, the family’s income stream that their brother had so diligently 103

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established would have been severely damaged during his absence.

Bristol’s commerce depended heavily on the economic success of DeWolf and his family. The seaport of Bristol, situated in a prime location at the upper end of Narragansett Bay, fostered the town’s seafaring trades.

With several natural inlets and harbors throughout the state, vessels came and went with great ease. Furthermore, there were two narrow passages that a captain could choose to sail through toward the Atlantic Ocean. One passage was open and visible to Newport Harbor, where the tax collector’s office was located.

The other passage sailed around Newport and lent itself to discretion, particularly when a ship wanted to avoid the prying eyes of the collector with an illegally outfitted vessel designed for the slave trade. On land, a host of supporting activities, such as distilling and barrel making, also thrived off the seafaring trade and employed many Bristolians as crew members, longshoremen, and warehouse employees. DeWolf himself owned a distillery that employed local residents and each day turned an average of 300 gallons of molasses into 250 gallons of rum.28 DeWolf’s business enterprises thus fueled the town’s economy, making Bristol more and more dependent on the shipping industry in general and the DeWolf slave trading empire in particular.29 This fact helps explain why local residents turned a blind eye to the DeWolfs’ illegal activities.

James DeWolf’s self-­imposed exile in the Caribbean put him in a position of having to rely on his brothers’ aid. Each brother had his own area to maintain for James with regard to the family empire. John oversaw all household responsibilities for James’s wife and 104

Narragansett Bay, the islands therein, and Bristol Harbor (to the right of the compass rose) Newport is located at the bottom center, Pen-­and-­ink watercolor by Charles Blaskowitz, 1777, courtesy of the Library of Congress, digital call number Gm71000684.

Opposite: Customs house clearance from Newport, RI, for the sloop Judge John Jay, photo taken by the author with permission by the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

children, William looked after the various businesses, and Levi filled James’s shoes as captain during his four years of exile.30 Levi also kept multiple ledgers that outlined the activities of each voyage and sent long letters with full reports to DeWolf in Statia. Much of the correspondence discussed which voyage Levi would go on next and in which vessel, the investors and their personal requests for enslaved people, and what cargo Levi would pick up in Africa and deliver to either Charleston, South Carolina; or Havana or Matanzas, Cuba.31 For example, in a letter dated December 16, 1791, Levi reports bartering for some enslaved people from a Portuguese boat. The ship records from this

voyage showed that Levi sold 109 enslaved people for $28,200. Other letters from James to Levi contained instructions and tactics for avoiding trouble with the law in both domestic and international waters while on his slaving voyages.32 On August 8, 1792, James wrote a letter to his brother Levi, primarily giving him more instructions but in passing making reference to a letter apologizing for the incident on the Polly that he had written to Judge John Jay in Washington D.C., and that had been personally delivered by his father-­in-­law, Senator William Bradford of Rhode Island. Apparently hoping for federal intervention regarding the Caribbean warrant,

James expressed disappointment to Levi at not receiving a response from Judge Jay. Not coincidentally, at the same time he wrote to Jay, James instructed that a newly named DeWolf vessel set sail July 4 from Bristol on a voyage to purchase slaves. The sloop was named Judge Jay.33 The correspondence between the brothers documented the extent to which James continued to run the DeWolf operations from afar. On August 9, 1793, while in Statia, Levi wrote a letter to his wife informing her that he would sail to St. Croix the next day to meet James, who had written previously to say he would help him sell his cargo.34 Later that month, on 105

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August 31, 1793, James wrote to Levi and told him how to present the enslaved people as a port requirement to the collector in Cuba to purchase sugar. This letter is succinct, quite businesslike, and included useful advice for Levi as he represented his brother James in this transfer of cargo. James outlined all the specifics, including the names of the collector and the agent with whom Levi was to do business. Levi was to first apply for a permit, then to go to the collector and get permission to transfer the sugar to the customs house. James concluded his instructions by telling Levi to request items that James had previously stored at the customs house. At the end of the letter in a postscript, James informed Levi that he would arrive the following morning to meet him. This postscript is extremely important, as it documented the fact that even though James was in hiding, he still had considerable ability to continue his work.35 Subsequent letters also showed that James continued to play a leading role in the family business that he so diligently established.

The following day, September 1, 1793, Levi wrote again to his wife and expressed his frustration at his continued struggle to sell his cargo and told her that he had yet to leave for Cuba. He wrote that James was able to sell about half of the cargo, but that Levi now needed to sail to Havana to sell the rest. Three days later, on September 4, Levi wrote to Lydia once again to say that he was off to Havana and would be meeting not only James but also his brother’s family, who was sailing with James to Cuba.36 While James continued to direct his family business from Statia, Isaac Manchester, a Rhode Island slave-­ trade captain for hire, learned of the pending warrant 106

against DeWolf in Bristol. Manchester discovered where DeWolf was hiding, traveled to the Caribbean for confirmation, and reported the crime of murder against DeWolf regarding the incident on the Polly to Johannes Runnels, the governor of Statia.37 James was informed by the governor, and, knowing that a trial in the Caribbean for his crime was imminent, James asked Levi to send three or four crew members to Statia immediately to act as character witnesses on his behalf. In his letter, James suggested Isaac Stockman as one possibility and requested that Levi find additional willing participants. DeWolf ships were already traveling to Statia and would provide convenient transportation: “. . . I find a trial may be here if 3 or 4 of them was [sic] here and if they go in one of our Briggs it will be time enough when they git [sic] here.”38 There were people in Bristol who would make themselves available to do this for James and for job security.

Isaac Stockman and another sailor, Henry Claning, both natives of Newport, set sail in response to this request. Although James specifically requested Stockman’s presence, no evidence confirms that either man had sailed on the Polly. Once on the island, Stockman and Claning were registered and classified as transients, since neither was a documented resident of Statia.39 The two men remained in James’s employ and on call for the impending trial, which created ample opportunity to “rehearse” their testimony. Slave-­ship owners commonly bribed crew members, often for their continued loyalty and discretion regarding illegal slaving matters.40 As such, even though Stockman and Claning were not on the Polly at the time, they were

James Dewolf and the Illegal Slave Trade

vital to James’s effort to argue against the charge of murder.

Once Stockman and Claning were made aware of a pending retrial, DeWolf made arrangements for the two men to give a second deposition in regard to the incident on the Polly. One of the responsibilities of Governor Runnels of Statia was to handle legal matters on behalf of Judge Advocate Christian Petri of St. Thomas, including depositions. Petri oversaw the magistrate for all the Dutch islands, including Statia, St. Thomas, St. Martin, and Saba.41 St. Thomas was three times larger than Statia and had a much larger port and more available land. It also was the judicial home for the surrounding islands. The island governed itself similarly to Statia in that it had an economy built by merchants and planters who participated in the slave trade. Many Statia merchants, who included expatriates, had relocated to the island of St. Thomas and made for an audience friendly to DeWolf’s side of the case.

With a second deposition in hand and not feeling threatened by this looming trial, DeWolf continued to conduct business from Statia. August 8, 1794, James wrote to his brother John: . . . as you are going to England [to sell sugar] . . . meet me . . . you will not I hope fail to write to me by all opportunity from England on where you may be, that I may the better govern myself how to proceed and when and where I shall meet you in the West Indies, . . . give me the earliest notice possible.42 With a trial pending, James may have depended on his

brothers’ emotional support as much as their business acumen.

On April 17, 1795, Stockman and Claning were interviewed by Petri in regard to the second deposition.

Stockman and Claning falsely testified to Petri that they worked as crew members on the Polly for DeWolf in 1791.43 They also gave accounts of what happened to the enslaved woman on board the Polly for this new deposition. While the core of the story remained the same, this time, the deposition carried an obvious compassionate undertone regarding DeWolf. He was described as a very sensitive human being, concerned not only for his crew but also for the suffering woman as well. Stockman and Claning also stated that the situation was very unfortunate and that due to the nature of the disease, the crew was concerned for their own safety. Stockman and Claning further testified that DeWolf had no alternative but to save the crew and cargo, which consisted of 142 captives and fifteen crew members, ten of whom reportedly had never contracted smallpox and therefore had no natural immunity to the disease. Both men claimed that the enslaved female, seated on the top deck, had remained there for three to four days, not two, and that she had received constant medical care and attention. They reported that no one believed that the woman would recover and that she was, without malice, thrown overboard. In fact, they argued, she already may have been dead by the time she was thrown overboard. Finally, Stockman and Claning stated that DeWolf and the crew were equally sickened by the circumstances that had compelled them to adopt this disagreeable solution.44 These statements were a major revision from 107

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the earlier deposition and ultimately presented an entirely different scenario. It also made no mention of the woman being gagged or tied to a chair, neither of which would have been necessary if she really was dead, nor did it repeat DeWolf’s comment that he was sorry he had lost such a good chair.45 Due entirely to Stockman’s and Claning’s testimonies, this second deposition wove a far more perfect and compassionate tale for DeWolf’s defense.46 DeWolf was notified that Petri was about to hand down his decision on April 29, 1795.47 After speaking with Manchester, DeWolf’s handpicked witnesses and supposed crew members, and finally to DeWolf, the judge absolved him of any wrongdoing and dismissed the charges.48 Although he stated that he had initially felt DeWolf was cruel and had committed a morally evil act of wanton barbarity, the judge ultimately determined that DeWolf’s actions were intended to save the lives of his crew. The judge even implied that he felt that DeWolf did the honorable thing in saving his men and believed that DeWolf had done everything in his power to save the poor enslaved woman.49 As a result of the undoubtedly well-­rehearsed testimonies of Stockman and Claning, the charges of murder against DeWolf were dropped in the Caribbean.

Back in Rhode Island, DeWolf’s family worked tirelessly to ensure the dismissal of the charges against DeWolf in Rhode Island. With the murder case regarding the Polly dropped in St. Thomas, DeWolf now needed to wait for the federal grand jury in Rhode Island to repeal the warrant for his arrest on the grounds that another court had already exonerated him. DeWolf’s family and extended family undoubt108

edly asserted tremendous influence; father-­in-­law Senator Bradford must have done his part to get the warrant repealed, even though no documentation of his activities has survived. Additionally, Rhode Island Marshal William Peck declared that he could never find DeWolf in order to arrest him. Despite having reportedly searched for DeWolf for multiple years, once the St. Thomas verdict was in, Peck declared that he would stop looking for DeWolf at once.50 In late 1795, Judge Henry Marchant reviewed DeWolf’s case at the request of his family, who were now in possession of the second deposition. Marchant was Rhode Island’s first federally appointed judge and had been placed into this esteemed position by President Washington. He was the one person who stood between DeWolf and his freedom.51 Ultimately, Marchant decided to let the warrant expire. A combination of factors may account for this decision. Senator Bradford was a very powerful and influential member in politics who had personally attempted to assist DeWolf three years earlier by delivering the letter from DeWolf to Judge Jay. He may have exerted some of this influence on Marchant in some way. The second factor was that Marchant, too, owned an enslaved person and may not have felt DeWolf should be convicted for the murder of a slave.52 Once Marchant’s decision was made, the DeWolf family was able to send word to James that although the charges for murder had not officially been dropped, the arrest warrant had been, making it safe for him to come home.53 DeWolf returned to Bristol immediately and once again took the helm of the family’s empire he had so diligently maintained from afar.

James Dewolf and the Illegal Slave Trade

Bay of Matanzas, Cuba, created by Jacques Bellin, 1764, courtesy of the Library of Congress, digital call number 73697700.

Once DeWolf arrived home in 1795, he did not waste any time reestablishing himself as a visibly prominent capitalist in his community. Two days after his return, DeWolf received a letter from his uncle Simeon Potter containing explicit instructions on how to circumvent the most recent slave laws that had been passed in his absence. Potter advised DeWolf to go straight to Georgia to sell his enslaved people to avoid violating the Slave Trade Act of 1794. Congress had passed the act to prohibit the transport of enslaved people from the United States to any foreign country and to make it illegal for American citizens to outfit a ship for the purposes of importing slaves. Potter’s letter continued with a recommendation that DeWolf hire an agent and stated that this approach would guarantee the highest prices for his slaves.54 With this advice in hand, DeWolf was able to expedite his return to slaving while he avoided further trouble.

That same year, DeWolf, who understood that the laws in Spain still allowed the foreign slave trade to exist, began to pursue a new business strategy. Stay-

ing one step ahead of the law, DeWolf began registering his vessels with Spanish papers, employing a Spanish crew, and flying a Spanish flag. These actions allowed him to pursue his business legally, if under a foreign flag. Also, at this time, DeWolf turned his attention to Cuba, which was a Spanish territory. Spain had resisted abolition in Cuba because of the tremendous need for slaves on its sugar and coffee plantations.

Legal slavery in Cuba brought heavy slave-­trading traffic to the ports of Havana and Matanzas. It also inspired DeWolf to invest in three separate plantations of his own, the Mariana, Nueva Esperanza, and New Hope.55 For the next two decades, and despite the act of 1794, DeWolf continued selling slaves in Havana and in various ports in the southern United States, including Charleston. Ultimately, the 1794 law had little impact, and very few convictions were recorded under its authority.56 Laws aside, and with his new business strategy in place, DeWolf became more powerful than ever. On December 4, 1795, his ship the Juno sold seventy-­ five enslaved people valued at $19,390 at an undisclosed location in the West Indies. Then, on January 9, 1796, the Juno landed in Havana and sold the remaining enslaved people from the same voyage, valued at $25,105. The next entry on the ship’s log documented that DeWolf had subcontracted with thirty-­five different individuals to fulfill their requests for enslaved workers. In addition to the price of the enslaved people, DeWolf typically charged an average forty-­dollar consignment fee for each enslaved person ordered along with a 5 percent commission paid on the value of the enslaved person at the time of delivery.57 For 109

Rhode Island History

Sketch of the vessel Juno, commissioned by DeWolf, photo taken by the author with permission by the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

example, if an enslaved person were purchased for $500, DeWolf’s fee would be forty dollars plus 5 percent, for a total of $560. Under this system, DeWolf brought in huge sums of money on each slaving voyage.

Occasionally, he did have his disasters. On one terribly costly voyage in 1796, DeWolf described his losses: . . . 3 slaves were dead on arrival, 1 was near death, 2 were very ill, 2 were sick, 1 was very weak, 2 had become very thin, 1 was too old, 2 were very young, 1 very small, 1 had to be carried off the ship . . .58 DeWolf was later heard stating that the death of several of those enslaved people had ruined the voyage for him.59 But mostly, such losses were rare, and there is no further mention of such a personally catastrophic voyage in DeWolf’s lifetime.

As time passed, DeWolf and his brothers began to develop new strategies to protect his empire. In 1797, James and William founded the Bank of Bristol to safeguard the family’s money. Housed in an elegant 110

Juno list of enslaved, December 1795, photo taken by the author with permission by the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society. opposite: Bank of Bristol, circa 1900, photo courtesy of Mary Millard, private collection.

three-­story Georgian-­style brick structure that is still extant today, the bank also served as the counting house, or accounting department, for James’s and William’s other enterprises, all of which involved the slave trade in some capacity. James and William purposely located the bank on the DeWolf wharf, which was owned by William.60 William, in turn, leased the land to the Bank of Bristol for $150 per year. The bank’s stockholders included two generations of DeWolfs.61 In 1800, with $50,000 in capital, the Bank of Bristol was officially chartered as Bristol’s first public bank, in compliance with federal banking regulations.62 The DeWolfs appointed as their first president James’s father-­in-­law, Senator William Bradford. Bradford was followed later by James’s older brother, John.

Initially, small local banks were designed to accept

James Dewolf and the Illegal Slave Trade

deposits and to offer interest-­bearing loans. Over time, they began providing other services, such as issuing banknotes (checks), exchanging heavy coins for paper money, and exchanging currencies from other countries. James’s counting room was originally located on the ground floor of the bank. Interestingly, James shortly thereafter started a second bank, located just two buildings north, and named it Mount Hope Bank.

James was listed as the first president of this financial establishment.63 By 1801, as the Bank of Bristol became more successful, it became necessary for James to move the counting house from the bank building to another building directly next door on Thames Street.64 This action separated the banking and the accounting portions of DeWolf’s enterprises. Later, DeWolf added a

warehouse to the water side of the counting house that included vessel access alongside the new structure.

Together, both buildings formed a long and narrow building with two stories above ground, a basement, and a gabled roof. Parts of the warehouse were built from red and gray granite collected in Africa and the Caribbean. The granite was brought back to Bristol in DeWolf’s vessels as ballast, helping to weigh down and stabilize his ships while traveling through the trade route, particularly the Middle Passage.65 A boat slip ran alongside the wharf and adjacent to the building, allowing DeWolf’s vessels to dock, load, and unload their cargo directly into the warehouse.

DeWolf’s distillery was located just south on Thames Street, not far from the warehouse.66 The distillery alone was successful enough for DeWolf to accumulate 111

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an abundance of wealth to sustain him for the rest of his life.67 In addition to the distillery, warehouse, and wharf, the DeWolfs owned many retail stores throughout Bristol.68 As his empire developed, DeWolf continued to add to his business enterprises by opening a local insurance company. Joined by his brothers and naming his new business venture after his estate, DeWolf established the Mount Hope Insurance Company and served as president.69 The company had a dual purpose: it made the government-­mandated insurance coverage available to local mariners, and it insured all DeWolf ships.70 The political environment, maritime slaving laws, war, or threat of war were factored in and contributed toward the total cost and value of insur-

ance policies.71 Insurance policies covered all vessels, including those participating in the slave trade, against damage or total destruction from shipwreck, loss of the ship or cargo to piracy, confiscation at a foreign port, or disease that killed a certain predetermined percentage of slaves.72 Once the threat level was determined and the losses reached the minimum percentages of 5 to 25 percent, an estimated repayment would be established. The amount of the overall coverage would then be determined, a contract written and signed, and the premium paid in full.73 At the family’s height of financial power, the DeWolfs made considerable profits from the sale of policies to other ship owners that covered the vessels if a catastrophic event occurred.74

Bristol Insurance Company receipt (run and owned by the DeWolfs identical to Mount Hope Insurance Company), photo taken by the author with permission by the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

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One dollar banknote from the Bank of Mount Hope, photo taken by the author with permission by the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

Diman Counting House, circa 1900, photo courtesy of Mary Millard, private collection.

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Rhode Island History

Documentation of co-­partnership of D’Wolf, Packard, and D’Wolf, New York, January 1, 1818, photo taken by the author with permission by the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

By today’s legal standards, insuring one’s own vessels could be construed as insurance fraud, as sound business practice negated the logic of insuring one’s own vessels. The DeWolfs risked bankruptcy or extensive payouts that could create a tremendous amount of personal debt both to the insurer and the insured.

For example, one insurance policy for a DeWolf vessel, issued in 1801, determined that the “cargo” was to be insured at a 15 percent loss, with the premium settled at $600 if the cargo was lost. Fortunately for James DeWolf, he personally never lost a vessel or a substantial amount of cargo. Additionally, it is likely that the purchase of insurance by the DeWolfs for their vessels existed on paper only.

The multitude of enterprising businesses DeWolf established occurred because he was able to take advantage of the positive economic climate in Bristol. DeWolf also had the tenacious ability and savvy business sense to take his family to a level of financial prosperity that far exceeded that of many successful families in Rhode Island and beyond. Initially, the entire DeWolf legacy was built solely on his connection with the slave trade, but it evolved into an indisputable empire that ultimately included textile mills, sugar and coffee plantations in Cuba, and multiple properties held in various states. DeWolf owned all of his vessels outright. Over time, DeWolf also held 75 percent interest in many other vessels, primarily those owned by his brothers and extended relatives.75 All of these business ventures provided consistent income for DeWolf and his family, along with employment for many in the community.

In 1803, the anti-­slaving law of 1794 was repealed in

South Carolina, giving a green light to the insatiable demand for enslaved workers throughout the area.76 In reality, Charleston had been a port of delivery for enslaved people for many years, despite the state and federal laws that prohibited the trade. But once the law officially allowed slave sales to resume, Charleston quickly filled with competing opportunistic vessels. Rhode Island slavers, who already transported between 80 to 90 percent of the enslaved sold throughout the nation, immediately took advantage of this opportunity.77 Beginning in late 1806 and continuing into 1807, a period of only seven months, the DeWolfs sent at least 18 vessels to Charleston carrying a total of nearly 2,300 enslaved, if not more.78 Curiously, one of the vessels was named the Monticello, after President Thomas Jefferson’s famed estate.79 The pro-­slavery climate in South Carolina inspired DeWolf to form a business partnership with a man in Charleston named Charles Christian. DeWolf arranged for the sale of large numbers of enslaved people from the family’s ships to Christian. This shrewd business move took DeWolf’s empire to an entirely new level. DeWolf, in partnership with this well-­ established Charleston merchant, opened a commission house for all of his cargoes, naming the firm “Christian and D’Wolf.”80 DeWolf’s nephew, Henry, oversaw the Charleston business and its slave sales.

DeWolf also established an office in New York to deal with the financial end of the Charleston business and placed his oldest son, James, Jr., or “Gentleman Jim,” in charge of honoring all financial drafts sent to him by his cousin Henry.81 This scenario further demonstrated DeWolf’s savvy business mind and his ability

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to expand his already well-­developed vertically integrated empire by utilizing trusted family members.

With the passing of the 1807 federal Slave Trade Act, which went into effect on January 1, 1808, many Rhode Islanders continued their tenacious fight to ensure that the state’s commerce continued to take

advantage of slave-­trading activities, legal or not.

DeWolf already had put into place a plan to circumvent the newly revised regulation with his land ownership in Cuba.82 While his investment in three plantations of sugar and coffee ensured consistent income and employment for the family and Bristol 115

Rhode Island History

residents, it also created a need for ceaseless replenishment of enslaved labor.

In 1829, DeWolf was reelected to his position in the House of Representatives in Rhode Island, where he intended to exert political influence to the benefit of his business ventures. Most certainly he could not have imagined that his life would end a mere eight years later. Bishop Alexander V. Griswold delivered DeWolf’s memorial sermon, stating that the congregation should forgive DeWolf for his chosen occupation.

At the same time, Griswold acknowledged that his industry, and the town of Bristol, benefited greatly as a whole from his success in the slave trade. This push and pull between dishonorable work and high profit has obscured the nature of James DeWolf’s role in American history.83

Through the transition of multiple laws and numerous presidential administrations, James DeWolf remained a powerful and influential figure, in both national politics and as a leader of the people of Bristol. He also presented a persona that provoked an ambivalent relationship with those around him as he did not create a dependency on slavery in Rhode Island but rather a dependency for Rhode Islanders on his continued success in human trafficking. Ultimately, DeWolf had the innate ability to circumvent any law that was put into place and to successfully continue his involvement in the transatlantic slave trade from 1784 until his death in 1837. He and his family are responsible for the delivery of thousands of Africans into the life of slavery.

Notes 1. Daniel P. Mannix, Black Cargoes: A History of the Atlantic Slave Trade (New York: Viking Press, 1962), 165; Jay Coughtry, The Notorious Triangle, Rhode Island and the African Slave Trade, 1700– 1807 (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1981), 25.

2. Anne Farrow, Joel Lang, and Jenifer Frank, Complicity: How the North Promoted, Prolonged, and Profited from Slavery (New York: Random House Publishing, 2005), 111.

6. Polly ship log, DeWolf Collection, Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

7. Deposition, June 15, 1791, NHS. 8. Deposition, June 15, 1791, NHS. 9. Patrick T. Conley, Rhode Island’s Founders: From Settlement to Statehood (Charleston: The History Press, 2010), 38.

3. Marcus Rediker, The Slave Ship: A Human History (New York: Viking, 2007), 101.

10. Walter MacArthur, Seaman’s Contract (Washington DC: Congress of the United States, n.d.), 190.

4. James DeWolf Deposition, June 15, 1791, Newport, RI, box 43, folder 24, Newport Historical Society.

11. Providence Gazette and Country Journal, James DeWolf Commentary, (June 25, 1791).

5. Deposition, June 15, 1791, NHS.

12. Patrick T. Conley, Liberty and Justice: A History of Law and

116

James Dewolf and the Illegal Slave Trade

Lawyers in Rhode Island, 1636–1998 Rhode Island Publications Society, 1998), 213; George Howe, Mount Hope: A New England Chronicle (New York: Viking Press, 1959), 106.

13. Eric O. Ayisi, St. Eustatius, The Treasure Island of the Caribbean (Trenton: Africa World Press, Inc., 1992), 40; John Franklin Jameson, “St. Eustatius in the American Revolution,” American Historical Review 8, no. 4 (July 1903): 683.

14. Ayisi, St. Eustatius, 7.

15. Ayisi, St. Eustatius, 113.

16. Cornelis Goslinga, A Short History of the Netherlands Antilles and Surinam (Netherlands: The Hague, 1979), 82.

17. Ayisi, St. Eustatius, 8–9; 690.

18. Jameson, “St. Eustatius . . . ,” 684.

19. Ayisi, St. Eustatius, 113.

20. Goslinga, A Short History, 82.

21. Verene A. Shepherd and Hilary Beckles, Caribbean Slavery in the Atlantic World (Oxford, UK: James Curry Publishers, 2000), 584–585.

22. Author Unknown, West Indisch Plakaatboek, 387.

23. J.A. Schiltkamp and Th. DeSmidt, Publikaties en Andere Wetten Betrekking Hebbende op St. Maarten, St. Eustatius, Saba, 1648/1681–1816 (Amsterdam: S. Emmering, 1979), 387.

24. Ron Wetteroth, St. Eustatius Historical Foundation, email message to author, July 16, 2009.

30. James DeWolf business records, BHPS. 31. Mary Millard, private collection, Bristol, Rhode Island.

32. James DeWolf correspondence, December 16, 1791, DeWolf Papers, Mss 382, Reel 9, RIHS. 33. Judge Jay through Snow Dove, ships folder, BHPS; James DeWolf correspondence, August 8, 1792, DeWolf Papers, Mss 382, Reel 9, RIHS. 34. Mary Millard, private collection.

35. James DeWolf correspondence, August 31, 1793, DeWolf Papers, Mss 382, Reel 9, RIHS. 36. Mary Millard, private collection.

37. Isidor Paiewonsky, Eyewitness Accounts of Slaving in the Danish West Indies (New York: Fordham University Press, 1989), 61.

38. James DeWolf correspondence, August 8, 1792, DeWolf Papers, Mss 382, Reel 9, RIHS. 39. Ron Wetteroth, email message to author, July 16, 2009.

40. Rediker, Slave Ship, 413.

41. James DeWolf Deposition, October 2, 1794, St. Eustatius, West Indies, DeWolf Papers, Mss 382, Reel 9, RIHS; While Danish St. Thomas and Dutch St. Eustatius were under separate legal systems, during DeWolf’s second trial and time spent in the Caribbean, both islands legally supported the slave trade. St. Thomas outlawed the trade in 1804, and St. Eustatius abolished the trade in 1814.

25. David Eltis, “Transatlantic Slave Trade Database,” Emory Center for Digital Scholarship, July 24, 2012 https://www.slave voyages.org/voyage/database.

42. James DeWolf correspondence, August 8, 1794, BHPS.

26. James DeWolf to John DeWolf, receipt dated July 1, 1795, receipts file, BHPS.

45. DeWolf Deposition, June 15, 1791, NHS.

27. John DeWolf, receipts file between John and James DeWolf, varying dates, BHPS. 28. Farrow, Complicity, 111.

29. James A. Rawley, The Transatlantic Slave Trade (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1981), 269.

43. DeWolf Deposition, October 2, 1794, NYHS. 44. DeWolf Deposition, October 2, 1794, RIHS.

46. DeWolf Deposition, June 15, 1791, NHS; DeWolf Deposition, October 2, 1794, RIHS. 47. Paiewonsky, Eyewitness Accounts, 69.

48. Paiewonsky, Eyewitness Accounts, 75.

49. Paiewonsky, Eyewitness Accounts, 69 and 71.

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50. Rediker, Slave Ship, 346.

51. Conley, Rhode Island’s Founders, 141.

52. United States Federal Census Records, 1790, www.ancestry.com.

53. Rediker, Slave Ship, 346.

66. Jennifer Banister and Suzanne Cherau, “Archaeological Disturbance Assessment; Thames Street–Belvedere Court . . .” PAL Report No. 215, Bristol, RI, May 2009, 112.

67. Paiewonsky, Eyewitness Accounts, 73.

54. Simeon Potter, correspondence, May 2, 1794, DeWolf Papers, Mss 382, Reel 9, Appendix 1, RIHS.

68. James B. Hedges, The Browns of Providence Plantations, The Nineteenth Century (Providence: Brown University Press, 1992), 103.

55. David Eltis, Economic Growth and the Ending of the Transatlantic Slave Trade (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987), 107; DeWolf Cuban Plantations, BHPS.

69. James DeWolf, The Bristol Insurance Company, DeWolf Papers, Mss 382, Reel 9, RIHS.

56. Peter J. Coleman, “The Entrepreneurial Spirit in Rhode Island History,” Business History Review 37, no. 4, (Winter 1963): 336.

57. James DeWolf Ships Log, BHPS. 58. Juno, undated, 1796, DeWolf Papers, Reel 10, oversized folder, subseries 1, RIHS. 59. Coughtry, Notorious Triangle, 146.

60. Tracey Nelson. “Wharf Research,” (Roger Williams University, 1999); Bank of Bristol, DeWolf Collection, Mss 382, Reel 9, RIHS. 61. DeWolf Business Files, Bank of Bristol, BHPS. 62. Historic and Architectural Resources of Bristol, Rhode Island (The Rhode Island Historic Preservation Commission, 1990), 15.

63. Tommy Todd Hamm, The American Slave Trade, 1620–1807, PhD diss., Indian University, (1975), 103; Scott Derks and Tony Smith, The Value of a Dollar; Colonial Era to the Civil War, 1600–1865 (Amenia: Grey House Publishing, 2005), 253; Nelson, “Wharf Research.”

64. “Buildings Erected in Bristol, Rhode Island, 1783–1831, Taken from the Records of the Rev. Henry Wight, in the Possession of Miss Agnes Herreshoff,” copied and arranged for the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society by Miss Herershoff and Miss Alice B. Almay, June, 1948, reformatted by Claire Benson, June, 2004, contained in the Library of the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

65. Hesselberg, Erik, “Shipwreck takes town back to the War of 1812,” Los Angeles Times, (October 6, 2013): A22–23.

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70. Paul Davis, “Living off the Trade,” The Providence Journal, (March 17, 2006): 3.

71. Coughtry, Notorious Triangle, 95.

72. Hugh Thomas, The Slave Trade (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1997), 312.

73. James DeWolf Insurance File, BHPS. 74. James DeWolf Insurance File, October 21, 1801, BHPS. 75. Hamm, American Slave, 106.

76. Elizabeth Donnan, “The New England Slave Trade after the Revolution,” The New England Quarterly, Vol. 105, No. 2, (April 1930): 254.

77. Paul Davis, “Rhode Island and the Slave Trade: Teaching the Truth,” The Providence Journal, (March 19, 2006).

78. James A. McMillin, The Final Victims: Foreign Slave Trade to North America, 1783–1810 (Columbia: University of South Carolina, 2004), 130.

79. David Eltis, “Transatlantic Slave Trade Database.”

80. McMillin, Final Victims, 130.

81. Thomas, Slave Ship, 545.

82. Mannix, Black Cargoes, 190.

83. Bishop Alexander V. Griswold, Discourse Delivered in Bristol, Rhode Island, February 11, 1838, Occasioned by the Deceased of the Hon. James D’Wolf and Mrs. Ann B. D’Wolf, His Wife, (RI: W.H.S. Bayley, 1838): 39.

NANCY KOUGEAS

Building the San Juan Plantation A Bristol Family in Cuba, 1818–41

It is impossible for any man, however theoretically opposed to the practice of slavery, to become either planter or merchant in the island of Cuba without giving his countenance directly or indirectly to a system which has happily been for ever abolished throughout the widespread dominions of the British Crown.

British abolitionist David Turnbull1

On February 21, 1818, Captain Joseph Oliver Wilson was in Havana, Cuba. While sugar was being loaded onto the Orizombo, he wrote to his employer and friend, John DeWolf, in Bristol, Rhode Island: “I am determined to settle here and Tomorrow I shall go into the country in search of land.”2 Wilson quickly found a plantation to his liking, returned to Bristol, and by May 22, 1818, his wife, 11-­month old son, and other family members were on their way back to Cuba—­to the San Juan Estates, a coffee and sugar plantation in Matanzas province.

The history of Bristol’s involvement in the slave trade has centered primarily on the DeWolf family, the town’s undisputed leaders. But the DeWolfs did not act alone—­they needed captains, seamen, agents, merchants, carpenters, shoemakers, and tradesmen of all sorts for their businesses to thrive. Wilson was one such necessary person. He initially arrived in Bristol to take command of DeWolf’s privateer Yankee during the War of 1812. By war’s end, he had married a Bristol native and continued to work with the DeWolfs, participating in the slave trade and then following their lead by purchasing a plantation in Cuba.

The Cuban plantations owned by the Bristol residents have been little studied; the scarcity of documents has been an impediment. In addition to the toll that time has taken, families have destroyed or removed documents that mention slavery. Those that have survived are scattered in many repositories. The letters written by Oliver and Sarah “Sally” Wilson, written over an approximately 20-­year span, are an exception. They offer a detailed view of life on one plantation that, while told from Wilson’s vantage point, also yields insight into the lives of the enslaved.

The years during which the Wilsons lived on the San Juan Plantation were ones of great change in Cuba.

While other countries were abolishing slavery, Cuba was moving in the opposite direction, encouraging settlers and allowing the slave trade to continue. The Wilsons were one family among the many who moved to Cuba during this time. Their letters tell their story.

Wilson had become a local hero during the War of 1812. His two cruises on the Yankee made a fortune for many back home in Bristol.3 He was then given command of a new DeWolf ship, the MacDonough. But the war ended (“too soon,” as they said in Bristol), and he was forced to give back the prizes—­the ships he had seized from the British and the cargoes they carried.

By the war’s end, he had married Sarah Sabens, to whom he had been introduced at a ball given by John DeWolf. She was 15, and he was 26.4 The end of the war meant financial struggles for many in Bristol. The enormous profits made in the slave trade and in privateering made it hard for men like Wilson to think of a future moving legitimate cargo from one port to another. So, in December 1815, 119

Sarah Smith Sabens Wilson, shortly after her marriage, painted

by Cephas Thompson, 1816. Courtesy of Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

Oliver J. Wilson, shortly after his marriage, painted by Cephas Thomspon, 1816. Courtesy of Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

in defiance of the laws of the United States, Wilson changed the name of the MacDonough to the Enrique, and under the Spanish flag and with a Spanish cap-­ tain, sailed to Africa. He was reported to William Ellery, the 88-­year old collector of customs for Newport, who used the power of his office to begin to prosecute Wilson. Wilson would be tried—­if he could be found.5 Salvation came in the form of the Spanish government’s announcement that it was opening Cuba to foreign investment and settlers. In March 1818, the Spanish government published Rules for the Residence of the New Colonists and the Aids to Be Provided, which outlined this new policy in detail.6 Wilson, through his connections with the DeWolfs, must have had advance notice, for he bought the San Juan Plantation in February before the official announcement. Two men named in the government document, David Nagle and Juan Jose Chaviteau, were business associates of the

DeWolfs and had worked with them for years.7 Nagle also was a well-­known slave trader. The Wilsons were willing to do what the Spanish government required of settlers, namely “profess the Catholic faith” and buy a plantation in Matanzas province.

It is important to note that Wilson owned only one-­ quarter of the San Juan. Another Bristol captain, John Smith, owned another quarter, and Robert Davis, who had married into the DeWolf family, owned the remaining half.8 Smith and Davis paid Wilson $1,000 a year and allowed him to use the manor house as a home for his family. They were counting on Wilson’s capacity for hard work. The San Juan Plantation was sometimes called the San Juan Estates because it produced both coffee and sugar, included two dwellings, a manor home and another, smaller residence, plus buildings to make sugar, process coffee, and house the enslaved. But all of these had been neglected and the place was run down.

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The MacDonough, alias Enrique, commanded by Oliver J. Wilson.

It was converted to a slave ship after the War of 1812. Courtesy of Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

Certainly Sally had concerns about leaving Bristol. While talk of abolitionism was in the air and some in Bristol freed—­or sold—­their slaves, Sally’s childhood had been steeped in slavery. Unlike many who made one or two slaving voyages, her father, Captain Sabens, had made it his career and had gone on at least seven transatlantic slaving voyages.9 Furthermore, nothing seemed to discourage Captain Sabens.

On his first voyage, the British seized his ship. Another time, he was shipwrecked, and on yet another voyage, the crew mutinied. Sabens also was daring, smuggling 28 enslaved people back to New England and landing enslaved people on Cumberland Island, Georgia, all in defiance of various state laws. He even took orders for enslaved workers: In 1806, John DeWolf wrote him: “. . . my son hopes you will bring him a boy Servant.

If you do, I wish you to bring one that is not bad tempered, and one not more than about 4 feet high say about 12 years old.”10 And Sabens brought him one. At

around this time, Sabens likely bought one for himself, a young man he named Fidelio.11 Sally, however, had been insulated from her father’s activities. She spent much of her childhood at Miss Balch’s Boarding and Day School in Providence, Rhode Island, where John DeWolf, who had been named her guardian, had deposited her to keep her away from her “unstedy” (sic) mother.12 Even so, on trips home to stay with her father, she surely met Fidelio, as well as the DeWolf’s “servants.” In 1807, when Sally was eight years old, her father died of the “bloody flux” as he raced George DeWolf’s ship Charlotte into the Port of Charleston before the federal deadline of January 1, 1808, ending the importation of slaves to the United States took effect.13 He left his entire fortune to his daughter, with only one dollar going to his estranged wife. Sabens was buried at sea, along with Fidelio, who died a few days after him. “Great was his bounty and his soul sweet” was 121

Above: Letter from John DeWolf to Captain John Sabens requesting he bring back “a boy servant”, July 14, 1806. Courtesy of Bristol Historical & Preservation Society. left: John D’Wolf, guardian of Sarah Sabens after her father died on a slaving voyage. Opposite page 49 in Charles D’Wolf of Guadaloupe, his Ancestors and Descendants, by Calbraith B. Perry (New York: Press of T.A. Wright, 1902).

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Building the San Juan Plantation

Map showing plantations owned by Bristol residents. Courtesy of Claire Benson.

inscribed on his memorial stone at Juniper Hill Cemetery in Bristol.14 Sally grew up in the charge of John DeWolf and married Oliver Wilson in 1814.

Early Years on the San Juan Plantation On May 22, 1818, the Wilson family set out for Cuba.

The voyage lasted three weeks. On board were Wilson, his wife, Sally, his eleven-­month-­old son, John, his ten-­year-­old sister, Martha, and possibly his younger brother, Charles. A servant girl, Emma Tucker, also accompanied them, as well as a “Negro girl.”15 Another Bristol family, that of Stephen and Phoebe Fales and their six children, who ranged from three to thirteen years old, also were on board. The Faleses had much in

common with the Wilsons. Like Sally, Stephen’s father had died while he was young, and he had had a DeWolf as guardian.16 Fales previously had worked on the Mount Hope Plantation, which was owned

by James DeWolf, and had now decided to move his family to Cuba. The two families spent three days in Matanzas before parting ways. The Fales family went to the Mount Hope Plantation and soon purchased their own coffee plantation in Sumidero. The Wilsons went to the San Juan Plantation. Sally was relieved to be moving on, as she felt Matanzas was a “detestable town.”17 The Wilson family left Matanzas Harbor after dark one evening on June 17 on a barge laden with their goods. The landing for the San Juan Plantation was 123

Historic view of Matanzas harbor, with hogsheads and boxes of sugar ca. 1850. Courtesy of Prints and Photographs Division, Library of Congress.

located at the mouth of the Camarioca River. They arrived at sunrise, “where the Mosquitos, Sandflies and Landcrabs were ready to receive us.”18 Once onshore, they had to wait for horses to be sent from the San Juan to take them the five miles to their new home; they arrived at noon. Sally wrote to John DeWolf that the house had “long been neglected and need[s] a woman’s touch.”19 She noted that she “expected a pleasant country, and to me a great many new and interesting objects. I think I shall like to stay five years but I am sure I will stay no longer if God preserve my life to return to America.”20 The Wilsons made many changes. Years later, the Reverend Abiel Abbot visited the San Juan Plantation 124

and described the house as “one of the most ancient on the island,” mentioning that it had a palm thatch roof. He noted that the setting was lovely, overlooking the Camarioca River, and that flowers and fruit trees were abundant.21 Abbot, whose congregation was in Beverly, Massachusetts, was in Cuba for his health and visited many plantations, writing accurate but positive descriptions of them. He wrote that the enslaved workers, for example, lived in “stone huts, calculated for comfort and security.”22 Sally quickly was plunged into the realities of plantation life. Her son had undergone “a severe seasoning—­his sickness was a dysentery; that has been a great trouble for me, being unacquainted with my few

The San Juan Plantation, drawing by Charles DeWolf Brownell, 1857. Courtesy of the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

neighbors, distant from friends, inexperienced in sickness, and fatigued by watching almost made me curse my fortune; but I hope it shall not again have so severe a trial of my fortitude and patience (which by the bye) you know I have never possessed a very large stock.”23 At school, Sally had learned how to be a gentlewoman. She could dance, sew beautifully, and write a fine hand. But, her practical skills lagged, and she frequently wrote to John DeWolf and his wife for advice, such as requesting recipes to make butter and cheese.24 She raised a large flock of guinea fowl after American chickens failed to thrive. And, she often sewed most of the family’s clothes herself. While she had enslaved domestic workers, she never said how

many or what each of them did. Over time, due to the absence of a nearby doctor, Sally learned to minister to both her family and friends, as well as the enslaved.

And, she gave birth just about every two years. Susan was born in 1819, a son was born in 1821 but died of lockjaw, and two more sons were born in 1823 and 1825.25 While Sally was learning how to run a household, her husband—­who soon was calling himself “Don Jose”—­threw himself into improving the plantation.26 He planned on harvesting and processing a sugar crop that first year. In August, he wrote John DeWolf: “nothing can exceed the appearance of the Sugar Cane.”27 Intending the grinding to begin in December, 125

Rhode Island History

Sarah Sabens Wilson to John DeWolf, July 14, 1818, her first letter written from the San Juan Plantations shortly after arriving in Cuba. Courtesy of Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

he drove himself and everyone else hard. Before leaving Bristol, he had ordered prefabricate sugarhouses, and

by August 9, 1818, he wrote that they had arrived and “in the course of two months shall have them on the spot. Have nine yoke of oxen drawing them up from the Shore.” Happily, they “Ma[d]e a trip in eight hours with ease and I expect in much less time when the road has been repaired.”28 With the help of carpenters from Bristol, who were imported to do the skilled work, much of the plantation was constructed within a few years. Two sets of sugar boilers were completed in 1818, enough to make 800 hogsheads of sugar a year.29 (Wilson used hogsheads that held 1,200 pounds, so this meant he could produce 960,000 pounds of sugar per year.) In 1820, a hospital for the enslaved was finished, in which Wilson’s sister Martha, now 12 years old, worked alongside Sally. Other buildings completed that year included a summer shop measuring 60 by 24 feet for the coopers and masons and a stable for mules that measured 50 by 20 feet. Wilson wrote that when they were done, “I shall commence my feed house. . . . it is to be 90 ft by 30. These buildings with what are already built will complete the Sugar Establishment which now resembles a little town. . . .”30 The following year, in 1821, Wilson had built a stone distillery on the banks of the Camarioca River, and the next year, “completing the estates,” a coffee store, and mill house.31 Wilson also kept buying land. He needed it for sugar, coffee, and the forage crops that were essential, including plantains to feed the slaves. In 1820, 500 acres were under cultivation, 300 of which were planted in sugar.

By this time, at least 100,000 coffee trees were under

cultivation, a number that would grow to 160,000 trees by 1823 and eventually to 180,000 at the plantation’s height.32 Clearing the land, planting the seedlings, harvesting, and all the steps that went into processing the cane into the finished product were difficult, dangerous, and back-­breaking—­and all were done by enslaved workers. During the harvest time, many enslaved people worked with only three or four hours of sleep a night. The world’s demand for sugar was insatiable.

Enslaved workers were key to Wilson’s operation.

When he bought the San Juan, about 100 enslaved workers were conveyed with it. Over the next few years, Wilson added about 200 more. He also kept careful track of the children born and, in consultation with his partners, counted on the fact that children of about five years old could be sent to pick coffee. His letters frequently note the number of children born, and while he expressed dismay when they died, this dismay—­and Sally’s—­was rooted in economics rather than compassion. In July 17, 1820, he wrote, “We have no sickness among our Negros except the new ones put on last winter which have to pass their seasoning. Several have died. They were a refuse gang a few old but the principal number were children which are growing every day and by the time our New Coffee is in bearing will be able to manage it.”33 Other than that, Wilson included few details about the enslaved in his letters, except to note that his little boy, who must have played often with the children of the enslaved, spoke, in addition to Spanish and English, “two negro tongues—­Fantee and Congo and will hold a conversation in the Negro tongue that neither his Mother nor myself can understand.”34

126

Life as a Cuban slave owner suited Wilson—­at least initially. In an early letter, he wrote that plantation life was “not displeasing to me being accustomed to an active life,” and he likened managing it to life aboard ship in that “discipline being the life of an

establishment of this kind but that discipline attends closely with justice.”35 He saw the faults that others had: some plantation owners were too easy, while others, like many Spanish owners, delegated authority and lived in Havana or Matanzas. However, his hands-­on 127

Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, July 17, 1820, describing his son’s language abilities. Courtesy of Bristol Historical & Preservation Society

management style soon took a toll on himself and others. In May 1822, he wrote to DeWolf, saying: “. . . my Dear Sir if you knew how I am occupied you would forgive me. I have hardly time to Eat or Sleep from morning until Night, and at all the hours in the Night, I am called upon to come here, or go there, look at this, look at that, sometimes as judge, at others executioner, sometimes as Doctor, at others as mechanick (sic), planter & merchant.”36 Other family problems arose to worsen his workload. Wilson had been counting on his brother, Charles, to take over running the plantation so that he and his family could return to the States. But Charles, who was back in Bristol, began to have mental difficulties, and, managing from afar, Wilson wrote to DeWolf to see if there was a lunatic asylum in the United States they could afford.37 128

Wilson accepted his right to own enslaved workers and put a good deal of faith in the government’s ability to manage and control them. In Matanzas at this time, other settlers were arriving in droves, and the population of enslaved people on the island increased rapidly.

By 1820, they numbered 325,000.38 The Spanish government, wary that the white planters were so outnumbered, took steps to maintain control. In 1822, Wilson was made a lieutenant in the Cavalry Corps.39

Resistance Despite Wilson’s faith in good management and the Yankee work ethic and his contention that his enslaved workers were “contented,” there are numerous references in his letters to slave resistance. Initially, Wilson

Building the San Juan Plantation

noted that many were sick, but building the hospital reduced these numbers. As time passed, Wilson began to reference runaways in his letters. On September 8, 1819, he wrote he had been “verry (sic) sick with a fever having caught a severe Cold in my launch which I was obliged to Come up with from Matanzas having a number of runaway Negros in her.”40 He also wrote about having problems getting the enslaved to work.

In 1822, Wilson wrote about one who had hung himself, another who died when a tree fell on him, and another who died a natural death. Later, an enslaved man, who had been punished by being chained to the mill, killed two slaves, set fires that destroyed four houses, and then committed suicide upon his release.41 Complicating everything, Wilson soon was deeply in debt. He could only keep up with the outlays for land, enslaved workers, and other plantation necessities by borrowing from his partners. He tried to sell his house in Bristol, but the real estate market was in a slump.42 His partner, Robert Davis, told him to ask John DeWolf for a loan, but DeWolf declined, saying he was too old to take on debt at his age. Instead, James DeWolf and his son James, Jr., lent Wilson the $25,000 he needed.43 Sally blamed Wilson for expanding the plantation too quickly, putting his family in jeopardy.44 Wilson maintained his optimism that a few good harvests would pay off the debt and boasted that he owned “1⁄4 of one of the best plantations in the country.”45 Unfortunately, Robert Davis died while visiting the San Juan and his 50 percent share was bought

by Captain John Smith, who became majority owner.

Smith also was in a partnership with George DeWolf, who owned two Cuban plantations, Noah’s Ark and

Buena Esperanza. George DeWolf was the nephew of James and John and the same man who had owned the Charlotte on which Sally Sabens’s father had died.

The Slave Revolt of 1825 The year 1825 began routinely, with Wilson mainly focused on the sale of sugar and his son’s education.

John Wilson had been sent home to Bristol and had been taken under the wing of John DeWolf, who had arranged for his education.46 Sally delivered their last baby on April 27, 1825. Sugar making had commenced the previous December, and the quality was better than the year before; in fact, it was “uncommonly fine.”

Coffee gathering was finished. There were 700 quintals of it, and it was partially cleaned. And, Wilson’s rum was increasingly in demand. His 80 puncheons from the previous year were now selling for $40 a puncheon.47 All appeared normal.

Then, on June 15, 1825, the enslaved people on plantations in a nearby district rose up in rebellion.

According to Manuel Barcia, this revolt, the Guamacaro Slave Revolt, was the first large African-­led slave revolt in 19th-­century Cuba. It began on Joshua Armitage’s plantation, which was next door to that owned

by Stephen Fales.48 One of the Faleses’ daughters was visiting with the Wilsons at the time. Needless to say, Fales was happy she was not at home. In Stephen’s account of the day’s events, written to his sister Lydia, he said his wife was pregnant, expecting “momentarily,” but ended up fleeing into the woods and walking two miles. She stayed concealed in the woods without any food or water until it was safe for her to come out.49 129

Rhode Island History

Sarah Sabens Wilson to John D’Wolf, June 26, 1825, shortly after the Slave Revolt. Courtesy of Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

The Spanish government quickly and brutally suppressed the enslaved, sending a company of 400 dragoons from Matanzas to extinguish the revolt.

Wilson received an official order to prepare his arms, as did all neighbors in the area, and guards would patrol the countryside for weeks afterward. In her account of the event, written to John DeWolf ten days after the revolt, Sally used the word “extirpated” to refer to the slaves who had revolted.50 By this time, the rebellion was considered to be “entirely suppressed.”

In the aftermath of the rebellion, there were trials and executions. Although the revolt left plantation owners shaken to the core, Wilson put on a brave face when he wrote to DeWolf that the rebels were shot and “their heads hands & feet cut off and fixed to posts on the highways as an example, six more are to be executed and the remainder to work in chains the rest of their lives.”51 He also bought blunderbusses to protect his family.

Smith would repay his debts, and Smith soon ended up in debtors’ prison in Hartford, Connecticut.54 Wilson was besieged with agents who were trying to secure Smith’s portion of the crops, while he also was trying to make payments on his loans to the DeWolfs.

Although the San Juan remained profitable and continued to produced hundreds of quintals of coffee and thousands of pounds of sugar, as well as rum and molasses, Wilson could never get out from under his debts and was pursued constantly by lawyers. He was “annoyed with summonses to appear at court which takes me off from my plantation business and am troubled to get funds to carry on the estate.”55 Yet he was optimistic that the “Law will not allow me to suffer on account of the disputes of others.” The problems dragged on four years, dashing the Wilsons’ hope of a return to Bristol. Pressed for cash, Wilson recalled their son from his school in Bristol. And, with Cuba becoming a place that offered a cure to tuberculosis sufferers, they began to take in boarders to help their cash flow. Things definitely had taken a turn, and the hope of making a fortune and returning to Bristol was receding.

Failure of the Bank of Bristol In December, John DeWolf wrote with more disturbing news. The Bank of Bristol had failed.52 Its downfall was initially triggered by the failure of George DeWolf’s sugar harvest on his Cuban plantation, which caused the Bank of Bristol to call in its notes. Wilson’s partner, John Smith, and DeWolf were heavily leveraged, and the damage to their finances was severe. George DeWolf took his wife and six children to Boston, where he filed for bankruptcy, and then they all sailed for Cuba.53 John DeWolf, who was president of the Bank of Bristol, used every legal means possible to ensure John 130

Coda In 1832, Bostonian Mary Gardner Lowell visited the San Juan and described a bleak picture of what was happening.56 Wilson, like many other planters, had turned into a drunkard. The enslaved workers were treated horribly, were given inadequate food, and had rags for clothing. Lowell wrote they were “the most ferocious looking set of beings I ever saw & it would

not surprise me at any moment if they were roused to vengeance, they are worked unmercifully and most cruelly treated.”57 It was the sound of constant whippings that made her decide to leave the San Juan.

Soon after she left, Sally sailed to Bristol with two of her children. While in Bristol, she visited friends and tried to get James DeWolf and James Jr. to agree to a reasonable proposition regarding the money owed to them. She failed.58 She returned home to find her husband in agony from a gout attack. Then, cholera hit.

To save her husband, she put him on a ship and sent him to Bristol. She sent the children to other locations in Cuba, while she remained on the San Juan, nursing the enslaved.59 Now 34 years old, Sally accepted her husband was a broken man. She began renting out enslaved workers she had bought independently of the estate. And, she began negotiations to buy another

estate, called the Esperanza, in Lagunillas, about 15 miles from the San Juan.60 When Wilson returned to Cuba six months later, it was a new world. Sally had begun a new estate and made it a success. She sold the entire first year’s crop to a rich Charleston merchant. And, she wanted a divorce. Sally took the bold and unusual step of going to the bishop in Havana to seek one.61 Ultimately, a divorce wasn’t possible, but Sally never lived with Wilson again. When he was drunk, he was violent and once chased her into the cane fields with a knife.62 Later, Sally had an affair, which resulted in a baby named Pedro.63 Pedro’s fate is unknown—­he appeared briefly in her letters and then disappeared—­but Wilson died on February 28, 1838, apparently of an aneurysm.

Twelve hours later, his former partner and now enemy, John Smith, also died.64 131

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What exactly happened to the San Juan Plantation is unknown. In 1841, in Sally’s last letter to John DeWolf, she wrote that she had just offered the Bristol merchant Jacob Babbitt her house in exchange for his claim on the mortgage of the San Juan Estate.

Her intent was to dissolve Wilson’s partnership in the San Juan.65 This act was very likely done as there is no further mention of the San Juan Planation. Sally’s last letter, signed “Serafina,” was written in 1847 from Seville, Spain, to her son Charles. In it, she talks of how she would like to live when she returned home to Cuba and what jobs each of her children should take on the Esperanza. Why, exactly, she went to Spain is unknown. Sally died on January 8, 1847.66 In the years to come, all of her sons worked on plantations, some of them owned by large corporations such as Baring Brothers. Her daughter’s husband took over management of the Esperanza. None of her children ever returned to Bristol.

though financial failure prevented them from returning, Sally and Oliver always considered themselves Americans. It was a different matter for their children, only the oldest of whom was born in Bristol. (He celebrated his first birthday en route to Cuba.) While all of Sally and Oliver’s children went to the United States for education, their lives on the San Juan Plantation shaped their identity. Spanish, not English, was their first language. Author Louis Pérez Jr. has called the relations between Cuba and the United States “close and complicated,” and so it was for the Wilson children. As the years went by and the Wilson’s children had children, the family that emerged was not American or Spanish, but Cuban.

What the Wilsons did was repeated many times by other settlers. The Cuba scholar Alberto Perret Ballester has identified 618 sugar plantations in Matanzas, Cuba, that existed between 1800 and 1958. Slavery was abolished in Cuba in 1886.

An Enduring Legacy The Wilsons always intended to return to Bristol, the town they loved. Cuba was supposed to be a temporary home, a place to make a fortune but not to stay. Even

The author gratefully acknowledges the support of the Rhode Island Council for the Humanities (RICH), which funded initial research on Captain John Sabens, and the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society (BHPS).

Notes 1. David Turnbull, Travels in the West: Cuba, With Notices of Porto Rico, and the Slave Trade (London: Longman, Orme Brown, Green, and Longmans, 1840), 43.

2. Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, February 21, 1818, DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folder 5, Bristol Historical & Preservation Society, Bristol, RI

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3. George Howe, Mount Hope: A New England Chronicle (New York: Viking, 1959), 175–184.

4. Sarah Sabens and Oliver Joseph Wilson were married on June 1, 1814, at St. Michael’s Episcopal Church in Bristol, RI, Vital Records, Bristol Town Hall.

Building the San Juan Plantation

5. William Ellery, Letterbook #4, December 15, 19, 1815, Newport Historical Society.

6. Manuel Barcia, The Great African Slave Revolt of 1825 (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2012), 71 and 78.

7. Barcia, The Great African Slave Revolt of 1825, 107.

8. Letters in which Wilson discusses his ownership interest in the San Juan Plantation and his salary include: Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, June 20, 1819, and November 5, 1820. DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folders 6 and 7, BHPS. 9. Nancy Kougeas, John Sabens, The Voyages of a Rhode Island Slave Captain, unpublished paper, 2011.

10. John DeWolf to John Sabens, July 14, 1806, DeWolf Family Papers, box 12, folder 8, BHPS. 11. Not long after returning from this voyage, receipts show Sabens paid for services and goods for Fidelio including “for 3 weaks Bord (sic) of your servant Fidel” signed by James Center February 6, 1807, DeWolf Family Papers, box 12, folder 9, BHPS, and on April 21, 1807 he was charged “To Making Short Coat Boy” Sabens Papers, DeWolf Family Papers, box 12, folder 14. Fidelio died on the Charlotte a few days after his master. The log for that voyage notes that on November 18, 1807, “Fidelio, the Captain’s servant very sick, greatly I danger” and then “Fidelio is dead. We have just buried him in the deep. Sorrow for his master’s death excited a violent fever, he bore it with patience & seemed to die with reassurance for he expects to embrace his master in happier realms.” Log of the Charlotte, DeWolf Family papers, box 2, folder 38, BHPS. 12. John DeWolf to John Sabens, February 15, 1805, DeWolf Family Papers, box 12, folder 8, BHPS. 13. Log of the Charlotte, records the death of Captain Sabens, in the entry, November 14, 1806. DeWolf Family Papers, box 2, folder 38, BHPS. 14. John Sabens, Memorial Stone at Juniper Hill Cemetery, Bristol, RI. 15. That two serving girls accompanied the Wilsons is only revealed in letters after Emma Tucker’s death when her survivors

were not pleased with the settlement the Wilsons made of Emma’s belongings. In a letter dated October 10, 1824, Sarah Wilson to John DeWolf, BHPS, box 16, folder 8, Sally wrote that she did not wish to take Emma with her and had only planned on taking a “Negro girl” who was never mentioned again.

16. Stephen Fales had been a mariner. After the death of his father, Levi DeWolf had been appointed the family’s guardian. In addition to his wife, Phoebe, their children accompanied them to Cuba: William, 13; Eliza, 11; Mary, 10; Harriet, 7; Edmond, 5, and Thomas, 3. The families remained close in Cuba and eventually intermarried. For information about the Fales family, see: Fales Genealogy, BHPS subject file, and The Fales Family of Bristol, RI, DeCoursey Fales, privately printed, 1919.

17. Sarah S. Wilson to John DeWolf, July 14, 1818, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folder 2, BHPS. 18. Ibid.

19. Ibid.

20. Ibid.

21. Abiel Abbot, Letters written in the Interior of Cuba, Between the Mountains of Arcana, to the East, and of Cusco, to the West, in the Months of February, March, April, and May, 1828 (Boston: Bowles and Dearborn, 1829), 42 and 43.

22. Abbot, 43.

23. Sarah S. Wilson to John DeWolf, July 14, 1818, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folder 2, BHPS. 24. Sarah Wilson attended Miss Balch’s Boarding and Day School in Providence, RI, from the time she was five years old until her marriage. Miss Balch’s is now noted for its needlework. See: Betty Ring, “The Balch School in Providence, Rhode Island,” The Magazine Antiques, April 1975, and Betty Ring, Let Virtue be a guide to thee: Needlework in the education of Rhode Island women, 1730–1830, (Providence: Rhode Island Historical Society, 1983).

25. All the Wilsons’ children, except their eldest son, John, were born in Cuba. Susan Reynolds, their only daughter, was born on August 27, 1819. She was named in honor of John DeWolf’s wife, Susan Reynolds. A boy was born on September 17, 1821, but died

133

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of lockjaw seven days after his birth. Two years later, a son was born on September 21, 1823. The Wilsons intended to name him Jospeh Oliver, but his godparents requested he be named Charles Andrews. When their next child, a son, was born on April 27, 1825, he was given the name Joseph Oliver. Another son was born on April 27, 1825, and was named Edward Spalding, after their agent.

The letters announcing the children’s births are: Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, September 8, 1819 (Susan); September 17, 1821 (son who died of lockjaw); October 11, 1823 (Charles Andrews); April 28, 1825 (Joseph Oliver); April 11, 1826 (Edward Spalding), all in the DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folders 6, 8, 10, 12, 13, BHPS. 26. The first letter Wilson signs “Jose” is dated October 27, 1818.

Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, October 27, 1818, box 14, folder 5, DeWolf Family Papers, BHPS. 27. Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, August 9, 1818, DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folder 5, BHPS.

writes DeWolf that Charles is “much better” and has found new employment “thinking that a change of situation may be of use to him he has been sick,” and by January 16, 1825: “My family at present enjoy good health except Brother Charles he seems to have lost his faculties and is nothing but a moving body.” On April 28, 1825, he wrote: “I wish you to inform me if I could get him into the Lunatick (sic) Hospital in N York and what would be the expense of maintaining him there . . . I am anxious to see if he can be cured.” The letters are in the DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folders 9, 11, and 12, BHPS. 38. Mary Gardner Lowell, New Year in Cuba, (Boston: Massachusetts Historical Society and Northeastern University Press, 2003), 15.

39. Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, September 8, 1819, DeWolf Family Papers, box 14 folder 6, BHPS.

28. Ibid.

40. Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, December 8, 1822, and May 22, 1827. DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folders 9 and 14, BHPS.

29. Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, October 27, 1818, DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folder 5, BHPS.

41. Beginning in 1818, Joseph Oliver Wilson frequently wrote to John DeWolf about selling his house on High Street to raise cash.

30. Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, November 5, 1820, DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folder 7, BHPS. 31. Ibid.

42. Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, July 17, 1820, and March 31, 1821, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folders 7 and 8, BHPS.

32. Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, June 30, 1821, DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folder 29, BHPS.

43. Sarah S. Wilson to Susan Reynolds DeWolf, July 11, 1821, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folder 5, BHPS.

33. Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, July 17, 1820. DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folder 7, BHPS.

44. Joseph Oliver Wilson to James DeWolf, March 21, 1822, DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folder 9, BHPS.

34. Ibid.

45. Sarah S. Wilson to John DeWolf, July 6, 1823, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folder 7, BHPS.

35. Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, August 9, 1818, DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folder 5, BHPS. 36. Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, May 12, 1822, DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folder 9, BHPS. 37. In his March 31, 1822, letter to John DeWolf, Wilson mentioned that Charles had become a good planter and could take over for him if he decided to return to the United States. By his November 14, 1824, letter, his brother is apparently ill, for he

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46. Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, January 16 and April 28, 1825, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folder 12, BHPS. 47. Barcia, 103–105.

48. Stephen Fales wrote his account of the slave revolt in a letter to his sister, Lydia, shortly after the revolt. Richard B. Jordan, “Letters to Lydia,” S.P.A. Journal, Society of Philatelic Americas, Vol. 44, No. 3, November 1821, pp. 159–60.

Building the San Juan Plantation

49. Sarah S. Wilson to John DeWolf, June 26, 1825, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folder 9, BHPS. 50. Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, July 17, 1825, DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folder 12, BHPS.

Pedro Asevedo (a Capt in the Spanish Army) was God Father for my little boy and named him ‘Pedro Lucianus Sexto . . .’” Sarah S. Wilson to John DeWolf, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folder 21, BHPS.

51. John DeWolf to Joseph Oliver Wilson, December 29, 1825, DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folder 33, BHPS.

63. Sarah S. Wilson to John DeWolf, March 4, 1837, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folder 22, BHPS.

52. Howe, Mount Hope, 229–233.

64. Sarah S. Wilson to John DeWolf, May 17, 1841, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folder 25, BHPS.

53. John DeWolf worked tirelessly on behalf of the Bank of Bristol to get Smith to repay what he owed, and Smith ended up in debtors’ prison in Hartford, Connecticut, at least partially because of these efforts. On February 20, 1826, DeWolf wrote to Wilson and asked him to go to court in Matanzas to put a lien on Smith’s portion of the San Juan Plantation, which Wilson did, although this made his life much more difficult. DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folder 34, BHPS.

65. Sarah S. “Serafina” Wilson to Charles A. Wilson, December 29, 1846, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folder 25, BHPS. 66. Alberto Perret Ballester, El azúcar en Matanzas y sus dueños en La Habana: Apuntes e iconografia (Havana: Editorial de Ciencias Sociales, 2008), 343.

54. Joseph Oliver Wilson to John DeWolf, Letters 1826–1829, DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folders 13–16, BHPS. All of Wilsons’ letters for these years contain details of his financial distress, although the plantation remained profitable.

55. Mary Gardner Lowell, New Year in Cuba, 88–89.

56. Ibid.

57. Sarah S. Wilson to John DeWolf, March 19, 1833, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folder 17, BHPS. 58. Sarah S. Wilson to John DeWolf, May 10, 21, 28, July 10, 1833, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folder 16, BHPS. 59. Sarah S Wilson to John DeWolf, January 10, 1834, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folder 17, BHPS. 60. Sarah S. Wilson to John DeWolf, April 25, 1835, DeWolf Family Papers, box 16, folder 20, BHPS. 61. Alexander Griswold to John DeWolf, May, 1835, DeWolf Family Papers, box 14, folder 41, BHPS. 62. It is likely Pedro was born in 1835; he is mentioned only a few times in her letters. On May 25, 1835, Sarah Wilson wrote to John DeWolf that the baby is “nearly 10 months” and on December 20, 1836, she wrote, “My dear baby continues well . . .” and in “Don

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CATHERINE W. ZIPF

Finding Hope in “New Hope” George Howe’s Diary of Life on DeWolf-­Owned Plantation in Cuba

During the 1820s, the economy of Bristol, Rhode Island, relied heavily on income generated by the Cuban sugar plantations its prominent families owned. This reliance was so strong that the 1825 failure of George DeWolf’s sugar crop in Cuba plunged the town’s economy into a major, multiyear depression. In 1832, seven years later, in an effort to recover the family fortune, James and his son, Mark Anthony DeWolf, uncle and cousin respectively to George DeWolf, purchased 200 more acres of land in Cuba, which they optimistically named “New Hope.” The plantation was, indeed, a new hope for the family, but it also reflected the depth of the DeWolf family’s Rhode Island roots. Not only is the state motto “Hope,” but Mount Hope is a major landmark in Bristol.

James and Mark Anthony hired James’s nephew (and Mark Anthony’s cousin) George Howe, also a Bristol native, to supervise the construction of the new plantation. Howe kept a diary of this period, documenting the plantation’s foundations, form, and mechanisms, as well as its daily life. Howe’s diary fortuitously survives in the collections of the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society, where a recent transcription has made it available to scholars of this period. Of special note, Howe’s diary documents the social and economic connections between Bristol and Cuba. Howe relied on his Bristol friends and family for news from the United States, supplies for the plantaOpposite: The Diary of George Howe. Courtesy of the Bristol Historical & Preservation Society.

tion, and general support on what was a difficult and desolate task. In return, he reported regularly on the state of the plantation’s development and organized shipments of plantation-­created goods to Bristol and other ports, including Charleston, South Carolina.

Howe’s diary helps document how Cuba functioned as an extension of Bristol’s economy and society and how wealthy Bristolians continued to profit from the lives and labor of enslaved individuals well after the 1807 embargo against slave trading.

Family Connections George Howe was a DeWolf descendant on his mother’s side, but his paternal ancestry also contributed heavily to who he was as a person. Howe’s grandfather was the Reverend Perley Howe, a physically imposing man, standing six feet, seven inches tall, who often was drunk and abusive; one parishioner described Howe as “a Judas in the office of the Ministry.”1 Born in 1743, George Howe’s father, also named Perley, married Abigail DeWolf (b. 1755) in 1775 and then went into service as a cornet in Captain Samuel McClellan’s Connecticut “Troop of the Horse,” which fought at Lexington, and as a lieutenant in Captain Amasa Keyes’s Fourth Regiment of Light Horse. George Howe was the youngest of five children: Mark Anthony DeWolf (1777–1802), William (1778–1802), James (1781–1802), John (1783– 1864) and himself (1791–1837). After Perley’s death in 1797, Abby moved the boys from Killingly, Connecticut, to Bristol to join her family, the DeWolfs.2 137

Rhode Island History

When the Howes arrived in Bristol, the DeWolfs were just beginning to build their slave-­trade empire and had begun to look to Cuba as a future investment.

The Howe brothers joined in the high-­risk, high-­return nature of their operations. Inspired by similar ventures undertaken by Providence’s Brown brothers, in 1801 the DeWolfs outfitted the Lavinia to sail around South America to Alaska to trade Yankee products for Northwestern furs and then northwestern furs for China goods; three of George Howe’s brothers, Mark Anthony, William, and James, sailed as part of the crew. Unfortunately, after traveling around the world, the Lavinia was in sight of Cape Cod when the ship unexpectedly broke up. All three of Howe’s brothers perished.3 George Howe survived all this, grew up, married Abby Turner in 1823, and had five daughters, Abby Turner (1824), Eliza Turner (1826–1891), Henrietta (1828), Lavinia Cady (1831), and Julia DeWolf Howe (1834). At about the time their second-­ to-­youngest daughter, Lavinia, was born, George Howe was hired by his uncles to oversee the New Hope Plantation.

Economic Ties As slave traders, the DeWolfs had plenty of experience with Caribbean life and with Cuba specifically. James DeWolf had been trading in Cuba since at least 1784.

Between 1784 and 1807, when slave trading became illegal, James was involved in approximately 80 “triangle trade” voyages. Evidence suggests that he may have purchased two plantations between 1790 and 1808, but his first documented effort in Cuba was the 138

Mount Hope Plantation, which he bought in about 1813. James DeWolf was the master of skirting the law, arriving in Cuba just as its government began allowing foreigners who wanted to do business on the island to purchase special citizenship status. He became a “naturalized landowner,” which required that he convert to Catholicism (he was a member of the Congregational Church in Bristol) and bring a certain amount of money to the island. James did these things, and while probably he did so without true belief or integrity, the Spanish government seems not to have cared.4 James DeWolf was influential in the development of the city of Matanzas, Cuba, into a center of sugar production. While Matanzas saw the construction of its first sugar cane plantation in 1728, Havana, with its commodious port, dominated sugar production for the next few decades; in 1778, Havana was home to 133 sugar plantations, while Matanzas had only two.5 Beginning in 1793, Matanzas began expanding its port and opening land for development, a circumstance of which James DeWolf took full advantage. As fields formerly housing cattle, timber, and tobacco were transformed into sugar “ingenios,” the number of plantations grew steadily, and the population of enslaved people exploded. In 1817, with the development of James DeWolf’s Mount Hope Plantation well underway, enslaved people represented half of the population of Matanzas, a percentage that would grow substantially over the next few decades. James established at least four sugar plantations in the area, with nephew George DeWolf establishing one more, Arc De Noe.6 It was the fortunes of Arc De Noe and the business activities of George DeWolf that brought radical

George Howe’s Diary

change to the DeWolf family, and especially to Bristol. Leveraging his assets in what was now a global sugar trade, George DeWolf frequently took out loans using his future sugar crop as collateral. Late in 1824, some danger signs became visible: some of the Cuban sugar crop began to fail, causing a drop in the sugar supply within the global market. Then, a storm hit St. Petersburg, Russia, with the wharves, on which massive quantities of sugar were stored, taking the brunt of the damage. As the price of sugar spiked in the Baltic region, sugar agents around the Atlantic world took advantage of rising prices by selling “future” sugar from the now smaller and still-­in-­production Cuban crop—­essentially, they were selling sugar they did not yet have at higher-­than-­usual prices. Then, in January and February 1825, the Cuban plantation cycle was upset again by torrential rains that washed out roads and disrupted the grinding cycle. Because sugar cane must be ground very quickly after harvest, the rains had a catastrophic effect on production, further tightening the supply. With planters unable to deliver, agents were caught in the middle, and everyone began calling in loans from everyone else. George DeWolf was particularly leveraged and in early 1825 owed $18,496.31 to at least nineteen different merchants. His collapsing finances brought down banks in Bristol. In the middle of the night, George DeWolf and his family fled Bristol for Arc de Noe, where he remained until 1844.7 James was the only DeWolf to emerge from the debacle unscathed, and with his son, Mark Anthony, he set about rebuilding Bristol’s economy. To do this, he looked again to Cuba. In the early 1830s, Cuba was just beginning a substantial economic boom, fueled

in part by the construction of its first railroad in 1834, which facilitated the movement of sugar cane and products to mills and markets. Iron and copper mining, which was enabled by the railroads, also attracted American investors; the New York Howland family and the New England-­based Bradford family, who were business partners with the DeWolfs, were among these investors.8 American investors both benefited from and fueled this rise, as goods produced in the United States found their way to Cuba. These developments also caused a significant rise in the slave trade, as more and more enslaved people were brought to Cuba under often very violent circumstances.9 Furthermore, the arrival of steam power on the plantations revolutionized the sugar production, giving rise to enormous profits and making terrible demands on its enslaved labor force.10 Between 1827 and 1841, the Matanzas population of enslaved people doubled from about 26,000 to about 53,000, growing at three times the rate of everywhere else in Cuba.11 As was typical for them, the DeWolfs were at the forefront of this wave of investment. In 1832, two years before the railroad was finished, James and Mark Anthony purchased 200 acres of land to the east of Matanzas for a new plantation, the “New Hope.” To get things going, they needed a manager willing to live on the planation in Cuba. Nephew George Howe, despite having young daughters, seemed right for the job. George Howe’s financial situation is not known, so it is impossible to say whether he needed the position or wanted the adventure. Either way, he left Bristol on December 30, 1831, and by the end of January 1832, he was at New Hope. His diary begins on May 16, 1832.

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Diary Observations Keeping a diary suited Howe’s bookish and scholarly character. Scholars have suggested that he intended to publish his diary, and to that end, his easy-­to-­read writing was geared toward a general audience.12 To begin, he recorded a number of observations on the surrounding landscape. The plantation was located about 150 miles east of Havana and about seven and a half from the northern seashore. Howe made special note of the plantation’s position relative to the sea because he enjoyed a weekly bath in the ocean. To the north and west, between the plantation and the seashore, lay a small set of hills. To the east and south lay plains, some of which were used to graze cattle.

The plantation was located on a relatively flat clearing of about 200 acres that was surrounded by forest “amidst whose dark solitudes, for many a weary furlong, the eye in vain may seek a vista to the clear blue sky.”13 While the forest had been logged of its cedar and mahogany trees, some other valuable species remained, including ebony.

As Howe described it, this wilderness contained many birds, whose feathers he collected, small animals like the hutia (like a woodchuck), tarantulas, and wild dogs. The wilderness also was occupied by runaways escaping from Cuba’s slavery system. Growing up in Bristol between 1800 and 1820, Howe was well familiar with the business of slavery and the slave-­trade voyages in which his uncles participated. He probably also knew many of the enslaved people living in town. As such, the slavery system of Cuba would not have been unfamiliar to him.14 In light of this, it is difficult to understand the naivete with which he wrote about the 140

enslaved people living in the wilderness—­“I have never encountered [a “run-­away negro”] and have therefore good reason to believe them to be very scarce.”—­as anything other than disingenuous.15 Of course, the maroons in Cuba were exceptionally skilled at hiding within the wild landscape and would never have given themselves away to a white plantation manager like Howe. But they were hardly scarce, and Howe would have been well aware of that fact.16 Howe’s arrival at New Hope represented his first experience with the Cuban landscape. His descriptions of the landscape reveal him to be a keen observer of his natural surroundings and document his adjustment to his new environment. Describing the various species of palm trees, he writes: [The leaves of the Palma Real] are of a yellowish green, shaped like those of the Pine, something larger, and capable of holding a quart or two of water—­its blossom both in form and color resembles the red pea, though ten times larger. When ripe its flying seeds migrate on the wind into the forest and attach themselves to every tree they chance to hit and there vegetate upon the living soil. Thus by the kind Providence of God, the birds of the wilderness and the Utria [hutia] are supplied with water from these little cisterns when the ground below is parched, and the channels of the brooks are dry.17 Or, about frogs: I am about to inflict a description of the Frogs of the Island[;] of all the venomous or loathsome rep-

George Howe’s Diary

at New Hope. His diary often includes copies of letters he sent to others, as well as poetry and drawings that he created to occupy his time. In October 1832, Howe wrote to William DeWolf, James’ brother, thanking him for his letter:

Fig 2: Depiction of a local species of bird, the Diary of George Howe, opposite page 128. Courtesy of the BHPS.

tiles which club their hateful qualities to annoy me here, none are so preeminently entitled to notice as the frogs . . . they infest all space: from the top of every tree that reaches into the clouds—­from every plant that greens the lap of earth—­from stumps and stones—­from every crevice in the saw-­mill between its deep foundations and the weather cock—­from the housetop to the cellar—­peeking forth from a thousand nooks, we hear them chanting the language of the Poet . . .There is no barrier to their invasion no arcanium [arcanum] beyond their scrutiny—­no sanctuary from their encroachment!18 Obviously, the frogs got on Howe’s nerves.

Despite the constant company of the frogs, Howe felt lonely, especially in the earlier months of his time

You are the only soul that has written to me one line since here I have been, except for my own dear [wife] Abby. I know not how to express my thanks.

The cold neglect of all professing friends but one were not worth all the rest. Verily, your letter tho. [sic] a short one, was of great consolation to me . . .

Write me again I beseech you, at least once more before I return.19 One of Howe’s major responsibilities was to ensure that the DeWolfs back in Bristol had information about what was going on in New Hope, but while Howe proved to be a dutiful writer, the Bristol end was not so diligent. Wanting more news from Bristol, Howe despaired that the connection between him and his hometown, upon which he depended, was so fragile.

Plantation Building Getting the plantation to be profitable started with building a steam-­powered sawmill that would process the lumber harvested from the surrounding forests. Timbering would have simultaneously provided an immediate source of funds while clearing the land in preparation for planting the sugar cane. Howe mentions the existence of the steam-­powered sawmill in early May, so it is possible that it was either already 141

Depiction of the sawmill on the New Hope Plantation, the Diary of George Howe, opposite page 9. Courtesy of the BHPS.

on the plantation when he arrived or finished between his arrival in January and his notation of its existence in May. Either way, he was there for a dedication ceremony and recorded his speech in his diary. The speech has its epic quality, but it also gives a glimpse into the plantation’s very early years, especially into the racism and nationalism of the effort. Howe writes: The circumjacent wilderness, which had hitherto known no noise but the wild scream of the Black-­ bird and the Parrot . . . [has] been taught to respond to the ringing of the broad-­axe and to reverberate the stroke of the hammer and the saw. You have this day reared in the land of imbecility and ignorance, a proud monument to American skills, industry and enterprise . . . I am inclined to the opinion that this one Mill will drive many vessels from the [lumber] market and thus . . . perhaps materially enhance the price of lumber. It is not visionary to imagine because it is not improbable, that the lumber of the New Hope will be transported to the United 142

States! . . .Who can say the operations of this Mill may not developp [sic] resources as yet undreampt [sic] of? This is indeed a New Hope!20 That August, Howe had a very different report to make. In a letter to Mark Anthony DeWolf, Howe complained about the new millman (“He lacks the skill of N. [the previous millman] . . . and he may spoil the saw,”) and about the continual need for more labor: If the calculation is to grind cane next spring you must send out a smart gang of carpenters with a competent foreman; and one or two Masons to complete the chimney and to lay the train . . .We have frequent, and almost constant occasion for a Blacksmith, too, and the want of one has been some hindrance to the progress of the Mill. In fact, we want Opposite: Speech given at the inauguration of the plantation sawmill, the Diary of George Howe, page 39. Courtesy of the BHPS.

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more force of every description—­more negros [sic] particularly—­the cane must be attended to, and the corn v.c. [sic]. We must have a gang to cut and bring wood for the furnace; we must employ four in the mill. We must have another gang by and by to cut and carry wood for the Lime Kiln; we must have stones dug for the same, and stones also for the Masons; two must be digging coco at the same time.

It will take at least six to wait upon the Masons; we must have at least two drawing timber, and two more with the cart drawing stones and coco. I mention this now, in order that you may make some arrangement to strengthen our force before you get up here. You will perceive by counting up our numbers how totally inadequate they are to carrying on this enterprise . . .21

By December 1832, things were not much better, and now food was becoming a problem. Howe wrote desperately to James: We labor under no little embarrassment here, in consequence of having neither advices nor supplies from home; and also from the effects of the rains which have been beyond parallel here . . . Expecting supplies from the North, we have bought one [barrel] of Prime Beef at a time . . .which with Fuche [Cuban maize porridge] or what we should call Hominy at home, constitutes our living and pretty miserable living it is. . . .

The plantation relied on Bristol not just for supplies but also for the DeWolf family’s leadership in ensur144

Letter from George Howe to James DeWolf, December 10, 1832, the Diary of George Howe, page 54. Courtesy of the BHPS.

ing that New Hope was provisioned. Howe concluded this report with a telling phrase: “Hope that this place will soon be under the personal inspection of your son [Mark Anthony DeWolf, emphasis original].”22 Christmas 1832, brought a new update and a direct request for James. At age 60 and only four years from his death, Howe urged him to turn things over to his son, Mark Anthony. As far as the plantation’s productivity, Howe wrote: We have not done much at the sawing since my last, nor have we more than a dozen timber logs at present hauled up ready for the saw. Occasional stops to repair and adjust displaced machinery and the want of a good Belt—­leather, are among the causes which have retarded the operations of the Mill. The worst of all is, we are buying every kernel of corn we eat . . .

The cane, of which we have a good deal planted, looks very finely—­the negros [sic] generally are healthy but destitute of blankets and outer clothing. We also want medicine, which I suffer, perhaps, more than anybody here. Hoping I will see your son [Mark Anthony], here and obtain leave of absence.23 From Christmas onward, Howe began keeping near daily notes on the plantation’s activities. The notes range in content and include revealing tidbits about the status of the plantation’s development. For example, on December 28, 1832, Howe documented the construction of a bridge and the beginning of a road into the wilderness for logging. In that entry, Howe also made his first report of what would be a continuing problem: hogs in the cornfield. Other reports on the

problem followed, such as on Sunday, December 30 [1832]: “This morning the negros [sic] give information that the hogs have again eaten all the corn which was replanted on Friday—­having the second time nosed up, and destroyed all our hopes in six acres or more.”24 That week, Howe also reported on other plantation activities: January 3rd [1833]: Delightful weather, the saw mill and shingle mill both going all day—­one gang planting cane, and one cutting and hauling timber.25 January 4th [1833]: Stopt [sic] sawing to clean out the boilers. Pleasant weather one little shower of rain in the morning and one also in the evening. Cutting and hauling timber and cutting cane.26

January 5th [1833]: Some showers today—­planted corn . . . Continue hauling timber. One of the Negros [sic] quite sick of consumption . . .27 Around the beginning of the New Year, illnesses began to pervade the plantation, and Howe began to report on his duties as a doctor. “Tuesday, the 7th: I am getting to be a very popular Physician here, four new calls this morning.” Work continued in the fields, with Howe reporting eighteen people in the cornfields, two cutting wood, four in the mill, and eight in the infirmary. Many things needed to get done on the plantation, and Howe reported on January 8, 1833, that he had branded a cow, rode to the shore to get a letter on a schooner bound for Matanzas, and taken a bath in the ocean.28 Food shortages 145

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continued to be a problem, and attempts to bring chickens and turkeys onto the plantation achieved little change. Pigs in the corn crop also continued to be a problem.

By the spring of 1833, life had settled into a routine.

Hogs continued to get into the cornfield, and Howe struggled with how to solve the problem: “I am sorry for the circumstances, but I know not what course to adopt—­it seems that we must either give up our cornfields or kill our neighbor’s hogs.”29 At one point, Howe reported that they killed a hutia and ate him for Good Friday dinner.30 The enslaved workforce continued to harvest timber, and the sawmill continued to work at cutting the logs for market. Food continued to be scant, and Howe began reflecting on the management of the plantation. On March 7, 1833: Upon reflection, I am not a little surprised that the Proprietor of this place, should hire his Mechanics by the year, instead of hiring them for the season.

I believe that 6 men would accomplish more here in six months than I would in twelve. In doing Mason work I am certain they would, for they not only lay by during the rains, but those rains make more work for them.31 This entry is particularly telling—­of course, Howe got this job because of his familial relationship with the DeWolfs and not because of his experience or abilities—­but regrettably, with no available account books to document the full extent of the labor force at New Hope, it is difficult to put Howe’s observations to the test.

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Undoubtedly, there were good things and bad things about living at New Hope. The landscape excited Howe, and he wrote avidly about its richness, often comparing it to a biblical paradise. On March 15, 1833: Now the oranges are in full bloom! Now the wanton breeze loves to linger along the groves—­and so do I . . . I am now just seated, from a stroll in the woods—­the gales of Paradise, with their ambrosial freight, are not more sweet than the breeze here, that come to me, as, hat in hand, I stroll through the forest and fanning my moist forehead.32 Throughout his diary, Howe references a wide range of exotic fruits and plants, including pomegranates, cinnamon, and camphor. At the same time, this rich landscape had its dangers, and Howe wrote often about epidemics hitting both the plantation and the local area. On April 6, 1833, he was particularly fearful: The cholera, by report, is approaching us, and in Lagoonillas [sic] forty had died of it four days ago.

It is very charming to be situated as I am now—­ hearing of the approaching pestilence and no means of getting away, and without any knowledge of the course to pursue in case of an attack, without any Physician within forty miles, and without any medicines—­and worse than all, living upon stuff, that of itself would create a cholera—­viz. Tasago [tasajo; dried horse meat] and Munuatoes, with hard green corn our only substitute for bread. If I shall live long enough to get clear of this place I shall be glad.33

George Howe’s Diary

While the food situation remained a problem, the fear of diseases like cholera were very real, and little could be done about them.34 As plantation manager, Howe’s duties mainly involved identifying what needed to be accomplished and deploying enslaved people, usually in “gangs,” to accomplish the task. An entry for April 3, 1833, is representative of Howe’s typical duties: Wednesday 3d.

Took off all the gang from digging stones and one from the Tyle [tile] house—­2 to make fence for a Campo Santo, and the other 5 to pile away the slabs and get the timber out for the carpenter to commence framing—­weather exceptionally hot—­a Patron here bound down to Matanzas—­ and in a devil of a fever to be off—­would hardly afford me time to write—­I did however scratch a line to Don M.A. [Mark Anthony DeWolf]. . . .35 Howe also had to deal with the non-­plantation locals, not all of whom were ethical people. On March 22, Howe reported having been visited by a trio of worthies on a speckulating [sic] scheme—­ which was to claim a moiety of our produce or an equivalent in cash for the tythes [sic] of those holy rogues, who with prodigious fervor shave their pates, and show a most religious scorn for shirts! . . . one was a hungry claimant, one an arch adviser, and the other a King’s officer—­a strapping, blustering mongrel of a “tienente” [lieutenent].

The men were from a nearby church and looked to extract a tithe from Howe in the form of produce or cash. Unfortunately, Howe had to agree to their demands, but he complained vociferously about how they “went off grinning most horribly—­a ghastly smile, and may the devil help them open’d it—­and then leave them.”36 One can read the anger and disappointment in Howe’s words. There really was nothing he could do about such demands, or about much else on the plantation, except its enslaved labor force. If Howe did not have power over the natural landscape, native diseases, or corrupt politicians, he certainly had power over them.

The Enslaved Labor Force The enslaved workers, or “Negros,” as Howe consistently spelled it, were a primary concern. He writes often of their status in words that revealed the commonplace nature of slavery and racism on a Cuban plantation. For example, on January 25, 1833: “Received a fresh gang of Negros [sic] from the Mt. Hope Estate . . .”37 On March 4, 1833: “Lent a Negro to Madruga”38 (Madruga is town located near Matanzas).

And, on April 2, 1833, he reported : Afternoon discovered that the large American horse was missing from the portrero [porter’s lodge], and Anselmo also missing. Upon investigation of the matter it appears that in consequence of something said to him by Thompson about the work to be done here, the Negro concluded that he was to be kept here three years, and he has thus taken french leave. He went 147

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in the morning with his gang into the woods to cut rafters for a roof over the boilers, according to my orders; and when the breakfast bell called the others in—­he cut dirt, and I suppose with the old horse.39 Howe dutifully wrote to Mark Anthony DeWolf to report Anselmo’s departure, but after that, there is no further information on what happened. Anselmo may have become one of the “runaway Negros” that Howe observed living in the forest surrounding the plantation, or he may have managed to engineer a different, yet unknown, fate.

While Howe was interested in the enslaved laborers themselves, Anselmo was one of only two enslaved people he actually named; he generally refers to the plantation’s enslaved population as “Negros” and nothing more. The other was Peter, who was a cook on the plantation. To describe him, Howe adapted part of Hamlet’s description of his father and drew a picture to document his appearance: Here he is, Gentle Reader, here he is!

See what a grace is seated on this row, ‘Hyperion’s curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars to threaten and command A combination and a form form, indeed When every god is seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of “Old Peter” “This is old Peter!”

Grace is in all his steps, heaven in his eye, In every gesture, dignity and love! [emphasis original]40 148

Depiction of Peter, the Diary of George Howe, opposite page 96.

Courtesy of the BHPS.

Howe’s description of Peter is unique in the diary, and it personified Peter in a way Howe achieves for no other person in the diary, including his family. At the same time, it contains a racist edge that betrays Howe’s true viewpoint on the enslaved labor force.

Even though the reference to Hamlet’s love for his father connotes a similar love for Peter, in fact Howe was poking fun at someone he believed to be inferior.

Peter’s skeleton, which was bent from rickets, probably could not move gracefully and most certainly caused him considerable pain, while the comparison to the Greek gods was facetious. In this moment, Howe provides a rare behind-­the-­scenes and personalized view of what the enslaved labor force had to endure.

On the whole, Howe did not write much on how the enslaved labor force was treated. As scholar Rafael Ocasio has noted, writing about Cuba’s enslaved population was prohibited, so it is possible that Howe complied with this law, especially if he had designs on publishing his journal later on.41 Or, Howe could have simply self-­sanitized, going along with the broader culture that did not talk about such matters. Either way, scholars have amply documented that the 1830s in Cuba marked a period of intense growth in sugar production and consequently the slave trade. In

English and Spanish entries, the Diary of George Howe, page 77.

Courtesy of the BHPS.

this decade in particular, the productivity of Cuba’s enslaved labor forces outpaced those on other nearby islands, with increases derived directly from increasingly brutal treatment of the enslaved workers, who were overworked in the “agro-­industrial graveyard” of the sugar fields.42 Labor was critical to sugar production and could make or break a season’s profit.

As Richard H. Dana, Jr. noted in To Cuba and Back: A Vacation Voyage, originally published in 1859: “The land is there, and the Negroes are there, but the result is loss or gain, according to the amount of labor that can be obtained, and the skill with which the manual labor and mechanical powers are applied.”43 In other words, the harder the enslaved population was worked, the more profit would be gained.

Regrettably, Howe wrote little on this issue. But, a reading between the lines shows that the pressure of ensuring profit through the abuse of the enslaved workforce was on Howe’s mind, and it reveals itself in curious places. In January 1833, as both practice and entertainment, he began writing partly in English and partly in Spanish, a language that was difficult for him to learn. On Sunday, January 13, 1833, he wrote that “Don Nicolas comes with a complaint that the negros [sic] have killed one large hog of his in the woods. Called up the negros and investigated the matter, which it turned out that they had killed two—­had three of the culprits punished . . .” Rewriting the entry in Spanish affected his ability to be opaque about the event and as such, this last sentence 149

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translated to, “Seeing that there were three, they were whipped.”44 Lacking skill, writing in Spanish forced Howe to express how, exactly, the enslaved people were punished.

Aside from the enslaved labor force, Howe was fascinated by the mechanisms of running a sugar plantation. Prior to harvesting the sugar crop, the fields were burned to get rid of the leaves on the plants and any insects or other pests living in the fields. Howe described the event on March 8, 1833: Set fire to the cane—­such a burning there was! “Ave Maria!” lo mismo el mundo inferno! [the same as Hell] I guess the hens thought it was “the devil all over.” ’Twas a dismal sight to see the beads of sweat chase one another down their peaked countenances, as they surveyed the terrible conflagration. It was like a battle of infantry engaged in close and desperate action; where the fire of the musketry peals in such constant and quick succession as to sound like the long roll of the drum. It was indeed a dreadful battle! The combattants [sic] were entirely envelloped [sic] in smoak [sic] that rolled along the burning plain in tremendous volumes, and sometimes rose in majestic columns to the heavens. But the terrible work was sufficiently defined by the noise noise.

Sometimes we could just discern the dark plumes of the warriour [sic] for a moment for an instant, and then again they would be lost in smoak [sic]. O Barbarous! S,M,O,K,E. [sic]45 Burning sugar fields unleashed a huge fire, but one that usually was over quickly. It also released many tox150

ins in the air and certainly contributed to the many illnesses on the plantation; cholera was a persistent problem, and so was yellow fever. A month later, Howe remained concerned about the fires, writing on April 4, 1833: The wind sprung up at A.M. and blew freshly—­and very much endangered the cane field from the fires which the negros had made in clearing—­turned all the people to white and place and cut the cane in front of the fire and arrested thus its progress. It however still looks threatening and I have posted two Guardaros there and keep myself a constant lookout. The first communicated somehow or other with the cane and all the people were again called out to stop it which they succeeded in doing in about an hour.”46 Like any good manager, Howe was aware of the power of an uncontrolled fire and watched carefully that the cane fields were property managed.

Amid these circumstances, the theme of “hope” was not lost on Howe. He did not say whether the situation regarding the enslaved workers on the plantation was deteriorating, but his own situation continued to get worse and worse. On January 31, 1833, he made the first play on the idea: “This day completes a twelve-­ month since I came upon the soil of New Hope—­and I may truly say that during one third of that period I have been in NO hope.”47 His health was taking a beating, and he was suffering from fever after fever, with many debilitating aches and pains. As the months went by, Howe began to understand that New Hope

George Howe’s Diary

needed more attention than its absentee owners were providing. On March 11, 1833, he wrote: Have the notion that this place needs the presence of Don . There is a very pertinent Spanish proverb—­apropos to this notion—­“The Master’s eye keeps the horse fat.” I am thinking this horse will show his ribs by and by—­If the proprieter [sic] does not visit this place pretty soon, New Hope . . .will be converted to No Hope.48 Although Howe does not mention him by name, the “Don” in this case is Mark Anthony DeWolf. In short, if they wanted New Hope to yield profits, the DeWolfs needed to start paying attention; the strings tying Cuba to Bristol worked in both directions.

Interconnected Communities Communication with Bristol remained sporadic, and when letters came, if they came at all, they tended to come in large bundles. Howe sought information from all possible sources about events in Bristol. On December 17, 1832, he wrote to F. Esquire, in Matanzas: Have you any letters or bundles in your area for anybody here? If not, will you be so kind as to send us the latest Newspaper from the [sic] N.Y.? And if possible, from R. I. [sic]? . . . Please tell us if any, what Bristolmen are in Matanzas. We are anxious to know whether the Cholera Morbus still rages in RI [sic]. Any information regarding our friends to the North, that you may communicate will be very gratefully received.49

The moments when communication was received were joyous: En la tardi [in the afternoon on Christmas] as they should say, we received letters from Matanzas, and from R.I., which end all doubts as to the loss of the Schooner Vives [which served the plantation] the loss of that little vessel, though embarrassing to us, we may not feel with the intensity of anguish . . .we understand there were four passengers on board—­mechanics bound to this place. By the same letter we have the cheering intelligence that the cholera had ceased in Rhode Island.50 The loss of the Vives accounted, at least for the time being, for the absence of correspondence from Rhode Island, and specifically from the DeWolfs.

In particular, Howe missed his family, and his letters home were heartfelt and poignant. In a letter to his mother dated December 29, 1832, Howe wrote: I feel extremely anxious to know of the wellfare [sic] of those near to my heart. Can you not essay one line in token of affectionate remembrance? My mother has not abandoned me! I know I have a place in her heart! . . . I beseech you have one scrap of paper dedicated to me, with my Mother’s blessing inscribed on it!51 A few months later, Howe’s wife, Abby, asked him to send a “recitation” or a poem to their girls. Howe wrote three different versions before settling on one 151

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that expressed sadness that their father was gone and joy at the prospect of his returning home: Piece for Recitation Third Attempt The birds are singing in their breezy bowers, And the meadows are deckt with fragrant flowers, Yet wearisome are the joyless hours And sad the live-­long day!

Vain are the fairest flowers of Spring!

The sweetest warblers vainly sing!

They have no charm alas to bring My Pa’a, that’s far away.

When comes Summer’s long long sunshiney day, And the warbbler’s [sic] have ceased to cheer the spray With their song, and the field flowers so gay, Are fall’n and faded all.

My Pa’a upon that wellcome [sic] day, Shall come from off his billowy way, And take me in his arms and say, I’m “Pa’a’s little Hal!”52 “Little Hal” was Howe’s five-­year-­old daughter, Henrietta. Not long after penning the recitation, on March 5, 1833, Howe wrote delightedly, “Another month and I shall leave this place—­and, probably, never to see it again—­I go to the land of the free and the brave.”53 On March 11, he reported having written to two local men, one in Havana and one in Matanzas, 152

about the possibility of taking charge of a ship that might be in need of a master.54 Feeling anxious and ready to go, on March 14 he wrote: It is a long time since I wrote to my dear A. [Abby, his wife] and she will have good cause to believe that I have forgotten or abandoned her if I do not write soon. Yet I would fain communicate by prospects in my next letter—­if I am to stay here another season, or to go home, I wish to inform her—­but this slow-­moulded [sic] drone of a Don [Mark Anthony DeWolf] comes not—­and I have therefore nothing definite to write. Curse his picture! I wish he would either come at immediately or let us know that he is not coming at all and then I should know my course.55 Finally, on March 31, 1833, Howe reported that Mark Anthony and James DeWolf were on their way. They had arrived in Cuba and were making their way not to New Hope but to Mount Hope Plantation. On April 9, 1833, Howe “got up at the ringing of the daylight bell; took cup of coffee, saw my duds packed into the car, mounted my horse and proceeded to the Playa.” He was going home.

After several months with his family, Howe returned to Cuba (Abby was pregnant with their last child when he left) to operate the schooner Caña in the coasting trade around Cuba between October 1833, and February 1834. Then, taking charge of the brig Neptune, Howe loaded his cargo of primarily molasses and sailed for Bristol. He arrived home at the end of April 1834, just about a month after Julia DeWolf Howe,

George Howe’s Diary

his final daughter, was born. Newspaper advertisements suggest he next considered opening a school, although there is no record that the venture succeeded.

On October 24, 1837, after preparing to return to the West Indies, Howe left his house, which still stands in Bristol, and with his family went down to the dock at Church Street. He boarded the ship and was waving to his family when the boom of the barque swung over the deck and hit him. He died at 3:00 p.m. that day.56 Like his forebears, George Howe lived a high-­risk, high-­return, if short and fascinating, life. His diary yields a glimpse into what it was like to run a Cuban

plantation. More importantly, Howe’s words reveal the extent to which Bristol and Cuba were connected, socially and economically, and what it meant to each to have the other. Howe needed his Bristol compatriots to pay attention to his needs, supply the plantation, and ease his loneliness. His Bristol family and partners similarly relied on him to manage the plantation effectively in order to yield significant profit. This symbiotic nature characterized the relationship between Bristol and Cuba throughout the 1830s, revealing that while the business of slavery in Bristol may have been exported offshore, it was far from over.

Notes 1. Cady-­Copp Homestead, State Archaeological Preserve, Site No. 116–22, Putnam, CT, Genealogical files at the BHPS.

Business of Slavery in Rhode Island, (New York: New York University Press, 2019), 83.

2. William Richard Cutter, ed., New England Families, Genealogical and Memorial, Volume II, (New York: Lewis Historical Publishing Company, 1913), 537–8 and Representative Men and Old Families of Rhode Island, Volume I, (Chicago: J.H. Beers & Co., 1908), 277–78.

5. Ocasio, A Bristol, Rhode Island, and Matanzas, Cuba, Slavery Connection, 3.

3. George Howe, Mount Hope: A New England Chronicle, (New York: The Viking Press, 1959), 135. This George Howe is a descendent of the George Howe discussed above.

7. Chambers, No God but Gain, 135–37.

4. Rafael Ocasio, A Bristol, Rhode Island, and Matanzas, Cuba, Slavery Connection, (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2020), 4–5.

Stephen M. Chambers No God but Gain: The Untold Story of Cuban Slavery, the Monroe Doctrine, and the Making of the United States, (London: Verso, 2017), 99. Christy Clark-­Pujera, Dark Work: The

9. Ada Ferrer, Freedom’s Mirror: Cuba and Haiti in the Age of Revolution. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014), 337.

6. Chambers, No God but Gain, 146. Chambers claims the DeWolfs owned six plantations; our research has uncovered only five, including the New Hope Plantation run by George Howe.

8. Chambers, No God but Gain, 167–9.

10. Franklin W. Knight, Slave Society in Cuba during the Nineteenth Century. (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1970), 31–9, 75.

11. Ferrer, Freedom’s Mirror, 337.

153

Rhode Island History

Invoice of sundries shipped by James DeWolf aboard the Brig Neptune for Matntazas, Cuba, to be forwarded to the Mount Hope Estate. Dated Bristol [R.I.], 20 Dec 1826. Note the large amount of “Negro Cloth.” DeWolf Papers, MSS 362, box 4, folder 32, RIHS Collections RHiX174369.

12. Ocasio, A Bristol, Rhode Island, and Matanzas, Cuba, Slavery Connection, xvi.

36. Ibid., 70.

13. “George Howe Diary,” transcribed by June Truitt, October 2010, page 4, contained in the collections of the BHPS All references refer to this version.

38. Ibid., 58.

14. Ocasio, A Bristol, Rhode Island, and Matanzas, Cuba, Slavery Connection, 14.

40. Ibid., 58. Howe borrows the lines from Hamlet Act 3, Scene 4, in which Hamlet describes his father. My thanks to Nathaniel Walker and Isabelle Courtney for their assistance with the significance of this reference.

15. “George Howe Diary,” 4.

16. Knight, Slave Society in Cuba, 79.

17. Howe, “George Howe Diary,” 16.

18. Ibid., 19–20.

19. Ibid., 21.

37. Ibid., 50.

39. Ibid., 72.

41. Ocasio, A Bristol, Rhode Island, and Matanzas, Cuba, Slavery Connection, 21–24.

42. Chambers, No God but Gain, 166; see also Knight, Slave Society in Cuba, 59–84.

21. Ibid., 29.

43. Richard H. Dana, Jr., To Cuba and Back: A Vacation Voyage (Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1966), 53. For more on this issue, see Knight, Slave Society in Cuba, 69.

22. Ibid., 31.

44. Ibid., 48.

23. Ibid., 40.

45. Ibid., 68.

24. Ibid., 40–41.

46. Ibid., 72.

25. Ibid., 42.

47. Ibid., 56.

26. Ibid., 42.

48. Ibid., 68.

27. Ibid., 43.

49. Ibid., 33.

28. Ibid., 43.

50. Ibid., 39.

29. Ibid., 48.

51. Ibid., 40.

30. Ibid., 73.

52. Ibid., 51.

31. Ibid., 67.

53. Ibid., 61.

32. Ibid., 69.

54. Ibid., 68.

33. Ibid., 73.

55. Ibid., 69.

34. For more on diseases on Cuban sugar plantations, see Knight, Slave Society in Cuba, 83.

56. Letter from George L. Howe to Alice Almy, December 13, 1971, genealogy files of the BHPS.

20. Ibid., 23–25.

35. Ibid., 72.

154

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