on the subject of slavery in Africa is perhaps not surprising considering the prevalence of what can only loosely be characterized as generic anti-slavery rhetoric in the early modern Atlantic world. Whenever and wherever the English found themselves in competition with other Europeans, they often strove to describe themselves in the most flattering terms possible. By claiming that others were the real practitioners of both slavery and the transatlantic slave trade, propagandists buttressed the dignity of the English nation by highlighting their own supposed commitment to liberty. Yet, it is also important to remember that English criticisms of slavery were rooted in the understanding by the English of the practice as epiphenomenal. Under what circumstances Africans were enslaved, or perhaps how they were treated by other Europeans, was of greater import than slavery itself. Although it dates from a slightly later period, the most famous example of a theoretically English anti-slavery critique was authored by the early Stuart merchant Richard Jobson, who, when offered “certaine young blacke women” while in West Africa, claimed that the English “were a people, who did not deale in any such commodities, neither did wee buy or sell one another, or any that had our owne shapes.”83 Jobson was not alone in his protestations. His near contemporary, Sir Thomas Roe, similarly objected to the purchase of slaves during his tenure in India. On at least two separate occasions, Roe reported, he was given the opportunity to purchase slaves. In both cases, even though he acknowledged that he could not only better their condition but quite likely save the lives of the enslaved, he asserted that he was willing to pay ransoms, “but I would not buy them as slaves.” From the perspective of the sellers, Roe could do whatever he wanted with his slaves, including setting them at liberty. But Roe was so determined to avoid the perception that the English bought and sold slaves that he insisted the king be informed “that I had offered to redeeme the Prisoners for charities sake, if after his Majesty would consent to their liberty, I was ready to send him money; but to buy them as slaves, though for an houre, I would not, they should never come nor be manumised by mee, but that I desired his Majesty to pardon them upon my redemption.”84 Although something of a formality, Roe’s stance reflected the desire of some Englishmen to remain above the fray.
Of course, Englishmen did buy and sell human beings because, in truth, slavery was considered perfectly defensible under appropriate circumstances, such as when people were captured in a just war. But slavery seems to have offended English sensibilities when it appeared to be rationalized by purely commercial principles. Slavery, as the jurist Sir Edward Coke allowed in the early seventeenth century, had been “ordained by constitution of Nations, That none should kill another, but that he that was taken in battell should remaine bond to his taker for ever, and to doe with him, and all that should come of him, his will and pleasure.” There were, however, important conditions. Early in the sixteenth century, Thomas More had characterized slavery as a practical and beneficial institution in his Utopia, but he had also been careful to emphasize that the Utopians “neither make bondemen of prisoners taken in battayle, oneles it be in battaylle that they fought themselves.” In his 1601 Treatise of Commerce, John Wheeler, secretary of the Company of Merchant Adventurers, lamented that “there are some found so subtill and cunning merchants, that they perswade and induce men to suffer themselves to bee bought and sold, and we have seene in our time enow, and too many which have made merchandise of mens soules.”85 Jobson’s and Roe’s protestations, in this light, reveal less an English disdain for human bondage under all circumstances than a certain queasiness with the idea of buying and selling human beings.
Other early English criticisms of slavery were equally elliptical and tended to focus on the behavior of other Europeans rather than condemn human bondage outright. English writers were more likely to castigate the Spanish and Portuguese for their treatment of African peoples than they were to express any criticism of slavery itself. The Portuguese, in particular, were frequently derided. As Robert Baker recorded in a mini-epic poem laced with classical references, Africa could be a dangerous place for the English not just because of the climate or the indigenous inhabitants but also because of the rapacity of other European traders. Baker and his shipmates sailed to Africa in 1562 to trade for gold and pepper but were routed by the natives on the Malagueta Coast, a people Baker dismissed as “slaves” and “fiends more fierce then those in hell.”86 Forgetting his misadventures, Baker returned with a second expedition only to find himself part of a group of nine men who became separated from their ships and abandoned as lost along the Gold Coast. Sustained by locals who supplied them with food and fresh water in exchange for their wares, the group eventually found itself in the neighborhood of São Jorge da Mina, a Portuguese trading fort established in the late fifteenth century. For fear of retaliation, English mariners in the past had carefully avoided the Portuguese in Africa and now Baker was forced to contemplate a dilemma. On the one hand, “Our miserie may make / them pitie us the more.” But, on the other,
Their Gallies may perhaps
lacke such yong men as we,
And thus it may fall in our laps,
all Galeyslaves to be,
During our life, and this
we shall be sure to have,
Although we row, such meate as is
the allowance of a slave.
But here we rowe and sterve,
our misery is so sore:
The slave with meat inough they serve,
that he may teare his ore.87
As Baker saw the issue, the English had another option: They could throw themselves on the mercy of the native Africans and see “what friendship they will shew.” Not surprisingly, however, the wayward English were not too keen on taking refuge with the locals:
But what favour would ye
of these men looke to have:
Who beastly savage people be,
farre worse then any slave?
If Cannibals they be
in kind, we doe not know,
But if they be, then welcome we,
to pot straight way we goe.
They naked goe likewise,
for shame we cannot so:
We cannot live after their guise,
thus naked for to go.
By rootes and leaves they live,
as beasts doe in the wood:
Among these heathen who can thrive,
with this so wilde a food?
The piercing heate againe,
that scorcheth with such strength,
Piercing our naked flesh with paine,
will us consume at length.88
Determining that their prospects were better with untrustworthy fellow Christians than with naked Africans who lived like animals in an inhospitable climate—and who might choose to make a meal of them—the nine Englishmen rowed toward the fortress. As they neared, however, they were fired upon and forced back out to sea. Fortunately, Baker’s negative assessment of the Africans proved to be as false as his hope that the Portuguese would offer sustenance. Once they were safely away from the Portuguese, the English mariners were met at sea by the son of the local ruler. After Baker recounted the plight of the lost English
