- Shopping Bag ( 0 items )
From the author of the widely acclaimed King Leopold's Ghost comes the taut, gripping account of one of the most brilliantly organized social justice campaigns in history—the fight to free the slaves of the British Empire. In early 1787, twelve men—a printer, a lawyer, a clergyman, and others united by their hatred of slavery—came together in a London printing shop and began the world's first grass-roots movement, battling for the rights of people on another continent. Masterfully stoking public opinion, the ...
From the author of the widely acclaimed King Leopold's Ghost comes the taut, gripping account of one of the most brilliantly organized social justice campaigns in history—the fight to free the slaves of the British Empire. In early 1787, twelve men—a printer, a lawyer, a clergyman, and others united by their hatred of slavery—came together in a London printing shop and began the world's first grass-roots movement, battling for the rights of people on another continent. Masterfully stoking public opinion, the movement's leaders pioneered a variety of techniques that have been adopted by citizens' movements ever since, from consumer boycotts to wall posters and lapel buttons to celebrity endorsements. A deft chronicle of this groundbreaking antislavery crusade and its powerful enemies, Bury the Chains gives a little-celebrated human rights watershed its due at last.
“A brilliantly told tale, at once horrifying and pleasurable to read." Publishers Weekly, Starred
"Bury the Chains is a vital testament to difficult hope."—Joel Turnipseed Minneapolis Star-Tribune
"A superb account...a witty, wonderfully readable narrative. Grade: A."—Jennifer Reese Entertainment Weekly
"A moral text with the dramatic power of a great epic novel."—Harper Barnes St. Louis Post-Dispatch
"There are few books that that could serve as a required and much-loved text for a high school history class and also a compelling Sunday afternoon read for anyone. This is one of those books."—Debra Bruno The Chicago Sun-Times
"Bury the Chains is by far the most readable and rounded account we have of British anti-slavery."—Robin Blackburn Los Angeles Times
"One quickly runs out of superlatives when praising this book."—Gerard DeGroot Christian Science Monitor
"Terrifically readable...inspiring..."—Charles Matthews San Jose Mercury News
"Hochschild has a knack for vivid portraits, and an eye for arresting detail."—Richard Brookhiser Boston Globe
"Bury the Chains is a thrilling, substantive, and oftentimes raw work of narrative history."—Maureen Corrigan NPR - "Fresh Air"
INTRODUCTION: TWELVE MEN IN A PRINTING SHOP
Strangely, in a city where it seems that on almost every block a famous event or resident is commemorated by a blue and white glazed plaque, none marks this spot. All you can see today, after you leave the Bank station of the London Underground, walk several blocks, and then take a few steps into a courtyard, are a few low, nondescript office buildings, an ancient pub, and, on the site itself, 2 George Yard, a glass and steel high-rise. Nothing remains of the bookstore and printing shop that once stood here, or recalls the spring day more than two hundred years ago when a dozen people—a somber- looking crew, most of them not removing their high-crowned black hats—filed through its door and sat down for a meeting. Cities build monuments to kings, prime ministers, and generals, not to citizens with no official position who once gathered in a printing shop. Yet what these citizens began rippled across the world and we feel its aftereffects still. It is no wonder that they won the admiration of the first and greatest student of what we now call civil society. The result of the series of events begun that afternoon in London, wrote Alexis de Tocqueville, was “absolutely without precedent. . . . If you pore over the histories of all peoples, I doubt that you will find anything more extraordinary.” To understand how momentous was this beginning, we must picture a world in which the vast majority of people are prisoners. Most of them have known no other way of life. They are not free to live or go where they want. They plant, cultivate, and harvest most of the earth’s major crops. They earn no money from their labor. Their work often lasts twelve or fourteen hours a day. Many are subject to cruel whippings or other punishments if they do not work hard enough. They die young. They are not chained or bound most of the time, but they are in bondage, part of a global economy based on forced labor. Such a world would, of course, be unthinkable today.
But this was the world—our world—just two centuries ago, and to most people then, it was unthinkable that it could ever be otherwise. At the end of the eighteenth century, well over three quarters of all people alive were in bondage of one kind or another, not the captivity of striped prison uniforms, but of various systems of slavery or serfdom. The age was a high point in the trade in which close to eighty thousand chained and shackled Africans were loaded onto slave ships and transported to the New World each year. In parts of the Americas, slaves far outnumbered free persons. The same was true in parts of Africa, and it was from these millions of indigenous slaves that African chiefs and slave dealers drew most of the men and women they sold to Europeans and Arabs sailing their ships along the continent’s coasts. African slaves were spread throughout the Islamic world, and the Ottoman Empire enslaved other peoples as well. In India and other parts of Asia, tens of millions of farmworkers were in outright slavery, and others were peasants in debt bondage that tied them and their labor to a particular landlord as harshly as any slave was bound to a plantation owner in South Carolina or Georgia. Native Americans turned prisoners of war into slaves and sold them, both to neighboring tribes and to the Europeans now pushing their way across the continent. In Russia the majority of the population were serfs, often bought, sold, whipped, or sent to the army at the will of their owners.
The era was one when, as the historian Seymour Drescher puts it, “freedom, not slavery, was the peculiar institution.” This world of bondage seemed all the more normal then, because anyone looking back in time would have seen little but other slave systems. The ancient Greeks had slaves; the Romans had an estimated two to three million of them in Italy alone; the Incas and Aztecs had slaves; the sacred texts of most major religions took slavery for granted. Slavery had existed before money or written law.
One measure of how much slavery pervaded the world of the eighteenth century is the traffic on the Atlantic Ocean. We usually think of the Atlantic of this period as being filled with shiploads of hopeful white immigrants. But they were only a minority of those carried to the New World. So rapidly were slaves worked to death, above all on the brutal sugar plantations of the Caribbean, that between 1660 and 1807, ships brought well over three times as many Africans across the ocean to British colonies as they did Europeans. And, of course, it was not just to British territories that slaves were sent. From Senegal to Virginia, Sierra Leone to Charleston, the Niger delta to Cuba, Angola to Braziil, and on dozens upon dozens of crisscrossing paths taken by thousands of vessels, the Atlantic was a conveyor belt to early deathhhhh in the fields of an immense swath of plantations that stretched from Baltimore to Rio de Janeiro and beyond.
Looking back today, what is even more astonishing than the pervasiveness of slavery in the late 1700s is how swiftly it died. By the end of the following century, slavery was, at least on paper, outlawed almost everywhere. The antislavery movement had achieved its goal in little more than one lifetime.
This is the story of the first, pioneering wave of that campaign. Every American schoolchild learns how slaves fled Southern plantations, following the North Star on the Underground Railroad. But England is where the story really begins, and for decades it was where American abolitionists looked for inspiration and finally for proof that the colossally difficult task of uprooting slavery could be accomplished. If we were to fix one point when the crusade began, it would be the late afternoon of May 22, 1787, when twelve determined men sat down in the printing shop at 2 George Yard, amid flatbed presses, wooden trays of type, and large sheets of freshly printed book pages, to begin one of the most ambitious and brilliantly organized citizens’ movements of all time.
A long chain of events, large and small, led to that meeting. Perhaps the most crucial moment came when Thomas Clarkson, a twenty- five-year-old Englishman on his way to London, paused, dismounted from his horse, and sat down at the roadside, lost in thought. Many months later, he would be the principal organizer of the gathering at George Yard. Red-haired, dressed in black, he was the youngest of those who entered the shop that day, perhaps ducking his head slightly as he came through the doorway, for he was a full six inches taller than the average Englishman of his time. In the years to come, his sixteen-hour-a-day campaigning against slavery would take him by horseback on a thirty-five-thousand-mile odyssey, from waterfront pubs to an audience with an emperor, from the decks of navy ships to parliamentary hearing rooms. More than once people would threaten to kill him, and on a Liverpool pier in the midst of a storm, a group of slave ship officers would nearly succeed. Almost forgotten today, he remains one of the towering figures in the history of human rights. Although we will not meet him until Part II of this book, he is its central character.
There are many others as well, most of whom were not at the meeting that day. John Newton was a slave ship captain who would later write the hymn “Amazing Grace.” Olaudah Equiano was a resourceful slave who earned his freedom, spoke out for others in bondage, and reached tens of thousands of readers with his life story. Granville Sharp, a musician, pamphleteer, and all-round eccentric, rescued a succession of blacks in England from being returned to slavery in the Americas. A London dandy named James Stephen fled to the West Indies to escape an intricately tangled love life, and then was transformed when some slaves he saw in a Barbados courtroom were sentenced to a punishment he found almost unimaginable. A colleague of his became the only abolitionist leader who ever crossed the Atlantic on a slave ship, taking notes in Greek letters to disguise them from the eyes of prying crewmen. Later in time, another key figure was a Quaker widow whose passionate stand against all compromise helped reignite a movement in the doldrums. And one was the leader of history’s largest slave revolt, which defeated the armies of Europe’s two most powerful empires.
The British abolitionists were shocked by what they came to learn about slavery and the slave trade. They were deeply convinced that they lived in a remarkable time that would see both evils swept from the face of the earth. Like anyone who wages such a fight, they discovered that injustice does not vanish so easily. But their passion and optimism are still contagious and still relevant to our times, when, in so many parts of the world, equal rights for all men and women seem far distant.
The movement they forged is a landmark for an additional reason. There is always something mysterious about human empathy, and when we feel it and when we don’t. Its sudden upwelling at this particular moment caught everyone by surprise. Slaves and other subjugated people have rebelled throughout history, but the campaign in England was something never seen before: it was the first time a large number of people became outraged, and stayed outraged for many years, over someone else’s rights. And most startling of all, the rights of people of another color, on another continent. No one was more taken aback by this than Stephen Fuller, the London agent for Jamaica’s planters, an absentee plantation owner himself and a central figure in the proslavery lobby. As tens of thousands of protesters signed petitions to Parliament, Fuller was amazed that these were “stating no grievance or injury of any kind or sort, affecting the Petitioners themselves.” His bafflement is understandable. He was seeing something new in history.
At times, Britons even seemed to be organizing against their own self-interest. From Sheffield, famous for making scissors, scythes, knives, and razors, 769 metalworkers petitioned Parliament in 1789 against the slave trade. “Cutlery wares . . . being sent in considerable quantities to the Coast of Africa . . . as the price of Slaves—your petitioners may be supposed to be prejudiced in their interests if the said trade in Slaves should be abolished. But your petitioners having always understood that the natives of Africa have the greatest aversion to foreign Slavery . . . consider the case of the nations of Africa as their own.” For fifty years, activists in England worked to end slavery in the British Empire. None of them gained a penny by doing so, and their eventual success meant a huge loss to the imperial economy. Scholars estimate that abolishing the slave trade and then slavery cost the British people 1.8 percent of their annual national income over more than half a century, many times the percentage most wealthy countries today give in foreign aid.
The abolitionists succeeded because they mastered one challenge that still faces anyone who cares about social and economic justice: drawing connections between the near and the distant. We have long lived in a world where everyday objects embody labor in another corner of the earth. Often we do not know where the things we use come from, or the working conditions of those who made them. Were the shoes or shirt you’re wearing made by children in an Indonesian sweatshop? Or by prison labor in China? What pesticides were breathed in by the Latin American laborers who picked the fruit on your table? And do you even know in what country the innards of your computer were assembled? The eighteenth century had its own booming version of globalization, and at its core was the Atlantic trade in slaves and in the goods they produced. But in England itself there were no caravans of chained captives, no whip-wielding overseers on horseback stalking the rows of sugar cane. The abolitionists’ first job was to make Britons understand what lay behind the sugar they ate, the tobacco they smoked, the coffee they drank.
One thing more makes these men and women from the age of wigs, swords, and stagecoaches seem surprisingly contemporary. This small group of people not only helped to end one of the worst of human injustices in the most powerful empire of its time; they also forged virtually every important tool used by citizens’ movements in democratic countries today.
Think of what you’re likely to find in your mailbox—or electronic mailbox—over a month or two. An invitation to join the local chapter of a national environmental group. If you say yes, a logo to put on your car bumper. A flier asking you to boycott California grapes or Guatemalan coffee. A poster to put in your window promoting this campaign. A notice that a prominent social activist will be reading from her new book at your local bookstore. A plea that you write your representative in Congress or Parliament, to vote for that Guatemalan coffee boycott bill. A “report card” on how your legislators have voted on these and similar issues. A newsletter from the group organizing support for the grape pickers or the coffee workers.
Each of these tools, from the poster to the political book tour, from the consumer boycott to investigative reporting designed to stir people to action, is part of what we take for granted in a democracy. Two and a half centuries ago, few people assumed this. When we wield any of these tools today, we are using techniques devised or perfected by the campaign that held its first meeting at 2 George Yard in 1787. From their successful crusade we still have much to learn.
If, early that year, you had stood on a London street corner and insisted that slavery was morally wrong and should be stopped, nine out of ten listeners would have laughed you off as a crackpot. The tenth might have agreed with you in principle, but assured you that ending slavery was wildly impractical: the British Empire’s economy would collapse. The parliamentarian Edmund Burke, for example, opposed slavery but thought that the prospect of ending even just the Atlantic slave trade was “chimerical.” Within a few short years, however, the issue of slavery had moved to center stage in British political life.
There was an abolition committee in every major city or town in touch with a central committee in London. More than 300,000 Britons were refusing to eat slave-grown sugar. Parliament was flooded with far more signatures on abolition petitions than it had ever received on any other subject. And in 1792, the House of Commons passed the first law banning the slave trade. For reasons we will see, a ban did not take effect for some years to come, and British slaves were not finally freed until long after that. But there was no mistaking something crucial: in an astonishingly short period of time, public opinion in Europe’s most powerful nation had undergone a sea change. From this unexpected transformation there would be no going back.
“Never doubt,” said Margaret Mead, “that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.” This book is about one such group. Their story is not a simple one, but a ragged and untidy epic that did not unfold in the orderly way they hoped for. It would sprawl across decades and continents, encompassing not just the long Atlantic traffic in slaves and the British slave colonies of the Caribbean, but also threads that stretched to unexpected places as far off as New York, Nova Scotia, and an improbable Utopian colony on the coast of Africa. It would be filled with dashed hopes and wrong turnings. It would become interwoven with great historical currents which, on that afternoon in the George Yard printing shop in 1787, no one foresaw: above all the dreams of equality unleashed by the French Revolution, and a series of ever-larger slave revolts that shook the British Empire and made clear that if the slaves were not emancipated they might well free themselves. The stage on which British slavery lived and at last died was a vast one. We must begin by visiting—through the eyes of future players in the drama of abolition—several corners of that world of bondage which, to a citizen of the eighteenth century, looked as if it would endure for all time.
Copyright © 2005 by Adam Hochschild. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company.
CONTENTS Introduction: Twelve Men in a Printing Shop 1 PART I: WORLD OF BONDAGE 1. Many Golden Dreams 11 2. Atlantic Wanderer 30 3. Intoxicated with Liberty 41 4. King Sugar 54 5. A Tale of Two Ships 69 PART II: FROM TINDER TO FLAME 6. A Moral Steam Engine 85 7. The First Emancipation 98 8. “I Questioned Whether I Should Even Get Out of It Alive” 106 9. Am I Not a Man and a Brother? 122 10. A Place Beyond the Seas 143 11. “Ramsay Is Dead—I Have Killed Him” 152 PART III: “A WHOLE NATION CRYING WITH ONE VOICE” 12. An Eighteenth-Century Book Tour 167 13. The Blood-Sweetened Beverage 181 14. Promised Land 199 15. The Sweets of Liberty 213 16. High Noon in Parliament 226 PART IV: WAR AND REVOLUTION 17. Bleak Decade 241 18. At the Foot of Vesuvius 256 19. Redcoats’ Graveyard 280 20. “These Gilded Africans” 288 PART V: BURY THE CHAINS 21. A Side Wind 299 22. Am I Not a Woman and a Sister? 309 23. “Come, Shout o’er the Grave” 333 Epilogue: “To Feel a Just Indignation” 355 Appendix: Where was Equiano Born? 369 Source Notes 373 Bibliography 409 Acknowledgments 428 Index 432
Posted May 8, 2005
Two things brought me to read this excellent book by Adam Hochschild. First, his previous book is a favorite. King Leopold¿s Ghost about the Belgium King Leopold II¿s plunder of the Belgium Congo, which helped set the stage for the tragedy of present central Africa. Second, I enjoyed meeting Mr. Hochschild at the recent Los Angeles Times Book Festival held at UCLA. He discussed his new book, Bury the Chains in a fascinating and interesting way. What I was afraid might be a cold over reaching history lesson, instead offers riveting portraits into the several main characters who over some 51 years fought to bring down the institution of slavery in Britain. All accomplished without civil war. The narrative drives with unique details and a main character, Thomas Clarkson who as a young man enters a Latin essay contest and wins first price for his essay on ending the slave trade. He then joins up with a group of Quakers and as an evangelical Anglican Clarkson begins to build a ¿band of brother¿ that develops and first implements many of modern day political techniques, such as posters, boycotts, and a modern sense of how to use the media of the day. But this narrative is more than Clarkson¿s story as Hochschild weaves stores of many interesting participants, both for and against the end of slavery. This book can easily lead to more research and readings as it is meant to be only an overview, told with a journalistic eye. For example, the chapters of the slave rebellions are interesting, but as you are reading your well aware that there must be whole books written on just one revolt. I would recommend this book be used in any high school and college classes on World or British History, it might become the best textbook any student might read. (Also, I read that some reviewers found Hochshild to have a bigotry against Christianity, which they say undermined the book. I am at a complete loss to understand where one would derive such a conclusion. Perhaps it¿s in the fact that Hochschild clearly states that it was each person¿s human empathy, which in the end won the victory over slavery, not some blind hope in sacred texts. I don¿t see that as bigotry, but clearly true as nothing in the history in the progress of human rights has happened unless there is recognition via human empathy that change is needed.) Read and decide for yourself.
3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted April 12, 2007
The British Empire, so praised by Britain's current rulers, was at root a slave empire, held together by slave-trading between slave colonies. Between 1660 and 1807, British-owned ships carried 3.5 million Africans, 40,000 a year, across the Atlantic, more than any other country carried. British property owners were the world¿s chief slavers. The British ruling class, not the nation, owned the slave ships, the slaves and the plantations. British workers did not control their own labour power, never mind own other people. William Cobbett noted that in 1832, ¿white men are sold, by the week and the month all over England. Do you call such men free, on account of the colour of their skin?¿ Black chattel slavery and white wage slavery were parts of the same system. The abolitionists ignored the eighteen-hour-days worked by children in Bradford¿s mills. They backed the laws that attacked trade unions and suspended Habeas Corpus. They funded their foreign philanthropy by increasing the exploitation of their white slaves at home. The trade unionist Oates said, ¿The great emancipators of negro slaves were the great drivers of white slaves. The reason was obvious. The labour of the black slaves was the property of others. The labour of the white slaves they considered their own.¿ As the Derbyshire Courier noted, ¿We make laws to provide protection to the Negro: let us not be less just to the children of England.¿ Bronterre O¿Brien wrote, ¿What are called the working classes are the slave populations of the civilized countries.¿ From birth, they were mortgaged to the owners of capital and land, only nominally owning their own labour power, forced into wage slavery. Britain¿s property owners extracted far more profit from their 16 million wage slaves than from their million chattel slaves. O¿Brien again, ¿We pronounce there to be more slavery in England than in the West Indies ¿ because there is more unrequited labour in England.¿ The empire was based on exploiting wage slaves and used the free movement of goods, capital and labour to extend its exploitation. The wars of the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries were fought to keep, or add to, Britain¿s imperial and slave-trading conquests. For example, in the 1790s, British slave owners united with French slave owners to try to eat Haiti¿s revolution. The government sent more soldiers to the West Indies, and lost more, than it had when trying to crush America¿s independence. Of the 89,000 sent, 45,000 died, as did 19,000 sailors. France lost 50,000 dead. Haiti¿s freed slaves defeated the armies of the two greatest slaver powers, but the British forces laid waste to the island, destroying almost all its sugar plantations. Slavery lost its former importance to the metropolitan economy. The slave colonies took an ever smaller share of Britain¿s exports. From 1820 the slump in the West Indies grew worse and worse. In 1832, an official wrote that the West Indies system ¿is becoming so unprofitable when compared with the expense that for this reason only it must at no distant time be nearly abandoned.¿ The years 1830-32 also saw the Swing Rising in Britain, revolution in France, a major slave revolt in Jamaica and the parliamentary Reform Act. All led to the 1833 Slave Emancipation Act, which freed the 540,000 slaves in the British West Indies. Parliament gave the planters £20 million (a billion pounds in today¿s money) as compensation for the loss of their slaves. The working class paid the money in tax, though they pointed out that the Church should have paid, as it owned so many slaves itself and as its priests justified the slavery of both black and white, at home and abroad. The Empire then imposed another form of servitude on the `freed¿ slaves of the West Indies ¿ compulsory six-year `apprenticeships¿. Later in the century, it used indentured labour, workers forcibly imported from India. Slavery had been profitable in the 18th century abolition was even more profitable
1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted August 10, 2006
The best book I've read in years! Hochschild writes about the slave trade from all angles, and the characters are fascinating and richly developed: Olauduh Equiano, a freed slave who joins the abolition movement John Newton, a slave trader who writes the hymn 'Amazing Grace', Thomas Clarkson, whose lifelong devotion to abolition is truly heroic and inspiring. I learned a lot from this book, yet it was written so well I could hardly put it down, more gripping than a Stephen King novel. You'll see people at their worst and at their absolute best. Everyone living should read this book.
1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted July 14, 2011
A page-turner. An amazing account of what a handful of people were able to accomplish. It's a horrible account of what people do to other people and a warning for future generations who should never forget the real history of the Western empires.
Above all, this book is a real and genuine inspiration for thinking people, especially activists working for change. It shows that It Can Be Done even though the odds are staggeringly not in your favor. A haunting account that has stayed with me. I shake my head in awe when I think of what the people in this book were able to accomplish.
Posted December 4, 2014
No text was provided for this review.