The Legacy of 2007: Looking Forward, Historic House, Spring 2008, pp.37-38.
Hartsheath, North Wales
Last year I inherited a historic house in North Wales and was chosen by English Heritage to research the links between their properties and slavery. In the course of the latter, I discovered that in the former I had inherited not just a beautiful house but a controversial legacy. North Wales is, after all, far too close to Liverpool for at least some of its families not to have been linked to the Slave Trade. Thus I have watched the events and debates of this year with a personal as well as an academic interest.
It is often asserted that all stately homes were built on the proceeds of the Slave Trade. This is patently too broad a generalisation to be true in every case. Of the 33 properties in the custody of English Heritage built or occupied between 1600 and 1840, I found eight that had no demonstrable link to Slavery. I looked for a wide range of possible connections, from the obvious family ownership of plantations or involvement in slave trading, to more indirect links, such as marriages to ‘West Indian’ heiresses, investment in the South Sea Bubble, or involvement (on either side of the debate) in the Parliamentary process which led to abolition. This was an initial survey of the secondary literature and various databases, including one detailing the individuals who were paid reparations for the loss of their enslaved ‘property’ in 1834. Further examination of house archives, furnishings and architecture would provide further or new evidence of these connections. This is a story that needs to be told in full, for all the houses in this country, whether they are cared for by English Heritage, the National Trust or private owners. Then, in 2033, we will be better able to commemorate the Abolition of Slavery, as opposed to the Slave Trade. We will also be better equipped to make informed judgements on the issues that arise.
This inevitably conjures up strong feelings. Perhaps that is why I find it so fascinating. It does seem appallingly unjust now that in 1833 it was the slave owners and not the enslaved people who were offered a total of £20 million in reparations. Today, many believe that reparations should be made for the Maafa (the Kiswahili term meaning ‘Disaster’ or ‘Terrible Occurrence’, which is used to refer to the centuries-long exploitation of Africa by Europeans). It is often argued that modern Britons cannot be held accountable for the sins of those that went before. However, I feel that it is the inequality and racism still sadly prevalent in our lifetimes that lie behind the urgency of calls for reparations, as much as the wrongs of the past. While it is right to celebrate the achievement of the men and women, black and white, that forced the Abolition Bill thorough Parliament 200 years ago, it is sobering to remember that that bill was only the first step in a long and not-yet-won battle for equality of opportunity. Individuals who sought to assert their freedom in the Caribbean continued to be executed as rebels well into the 1830s. The institution of Slavery itself was not abolished until 1st January 1834, and was then replaced by a servile system of indentured labour in the Caribbean, and an escalation of Imperialist activity in Africa.
But reparations will always be about much more than the money. Handing over a cheque will not salve the deep emotional and psychological wounds that remain. We must open our minds and hearts, rather than our wallets. This is why initiatives to reach out across cultural divides, such as those documented in the Summer 2007 issue of HHA Magazine, are so important. I was particularly fascinated by the pictures of heritage properties in Jamaica. It occurs to me that the HHA as an organisation is rich in knowledge and experience of how to care for historic property. Would it not be a step in the right direction to reach out to our counterparts in the Caribbean (Jamaica was of course not the only island colonised by the British), through groups such as the Friends of the Georgian Society in Jamaica, and share? We would also have much to learn from them, especially about the histories of British plantation families, from a different perspective. At the present time, most Brits travel to the Caribbean for the sun and the rum. Were heritage tourism to be introduced to this already heady cocktail, the benefits for the Caribbean economies would be manifold.
The descendants of enslaved Africans are not living only in the Caribbean. The pictures of Dido Elizabeth Belle and Charles of Boughton, and many other like them, are a strong visual reminder that there has been a black presence in Britain for centuries; in fact, at least since Libyans came here with the Roman Army. My own doctoral research, on Africans in Britain 1500-1640, shows that there were at least 360 Africans present in these isles in that century and a half. Numbers had increased to an estimated 15,000 by the 18th century. Discovering this hidden part of our shared history is a journey we should take hand in hand with black communities. In many cases, and unlike the Jamaican taxi driver encountered by Baroness Parks, these individuals are far better informed than we are. At the recent exhibition at Kenwood, I met a woman who told me she had known about Dido for years, but met only with blank stares from custodians when she asked about her. It is this kind of encounter that we need to eradicate through more thorough research and dissemination of knowledge. It is the feeling that these stories have been ignored, or worse, purposefully hidden, that alienates and angers people. I went to a conference in Jamaica in December, where I gave a paper in Accompong, a Maroon settlement which dates back to the 1650s, on strategies for freedom employed by enslaved Africans in the 16th century Spanish Caribbean, and saw a few examples of the fascinating heritage buildings that remain there. I have recently discovered that my distant relation,* John Chambres-Jones of Bryn Eisteddfod (1750- 1833), was a part-owner of four slaving ships of Liverpool. These four ships, the Chambres, Clementine, Doe and Rose Hill are recorded as participating in 12 voyages between 1783 and 1791 on the website www.slavevoyages.com, which comprises a searchable database of all the transatlantic slave voyages ever made. I hope to investigate him further. The idea of speaking openly about what I may find is rather daunting, but I feel it is the least I can do.
* John Chambres- Jones was the father-in-law of my 3rd great grand aunt.
Read more about my research into connections between English Heritage properties and Slavery and my book review of Slavery and the British Country House. Kenwood House has recently incorporated the story of Dido Belle more fully into its interpretation, as you can see from these photos.
It is often asserted that all stately homes were built on the proceeds of the Slave Trade. This is patently too broad a generalisation to be true in every case. Of the 33 properties in the custody of English Heritage built or occupied between 1600 and 1840, I found eight that had no demonstrable link to Slavery. I looked for a wide range of possible connections, from the obvious family ownership of plantations or involvement in slave trading, to more indirect links, such as marriages to ‘West Indian’ heiresses, investment in the South Sea Bubble, or involvement (on either side of the debate) in the Parliamentary process which led to abolition. This was an initial survey of the secondary literature and various databases, including one detailing the individuals who were paid reparations for the loss of their enslaved ‘property’ in 1834. Further examination of house archives, furnishings and architecture would provide further or new evidence of these connections. This is a story that needs to be told in full, for all the houses in this country, whether they are cared for by English Heritage, the National Trust or private owners. Then, in 2033, we will be better able to commemorate the Abolition of Slavery, as opposed to the Slave Trade. We will also be better equipped to make informed judgements on the issues that arise.
This inevitably conjures up strong feelings. Perhaps that is why I find it so fascinating. It does seem appallingly unjust now that in 1833 it was the slave owners and not the enslaved people who were offered a total of £20 million in reparations. Today, many believe that reparations should be made for the Maafa (the Kiswahili term meaning ‘Disaster’ or ‘Terrible Occurrence’, which is used to refer to the centuries-long exploitation of Africa by Europeans). It is often argued that modern Britons cannot be held accountable for the sins of those that went before. However, I feel that it is the inequality and racism still sadly prevalent in our lifetimes that lie behind the urgency of calls for reparations, as much as the wrongs of the past. While it is right to celebrate the achievement of the men and women, black and white, that forced the Abolition Bill thorough Parliament 200 years ago, it is sobering to remember that that bill was only the first step in a long and not-yet-won battle for equality of opportunity. Individuals who sought to assert their freedom in the Caribbean continued to be executed as rebels well into the 1830s. The institution of Slavery itself was not abolished until 1st January 1834, and was then replaced by a servile system of indentured labour in the Caribbean, and an escalation of Imperialist activity in Africa.
But reparations will always be about much more than the money. Handing over a cheque will not salve the deep emotional and psychological wounds that remain. We must open our minds and hearts, rather than our wallets. This is why initiatives to reach out across cultural divides, such as those documented in the Summer 2007 issue of HHA Magazine, are so important. I was particularly fascinated by the pictures of heritage properties in Jamaica. It occurs to me that the HHA as an organisation is rich in knowledge and experience of how to care for historic property. Would it not be a step in the right direction to reach out to our counterparts in the Caribbean (Jamaica was of course not the only island colonised by the British), through groups such as the Friends of the Georgian Society in Jamaica, and share? We would also have much to learn from them, especially about the histories of British plantation families, from a different perspective. At the present time, most Brits travel to the Caribbean for the sun and the rum. Were heritage tourism to be introduced to this already heady cocktail, the benefits for the Caribbean economies would be manifold.
The descendants of enslaved Africans are not living only in the Caribbean. The pictures of Dido Elizabeth Belle and Charles of Boughton, and many other like them, are a strong visual reminder that there has been a black presence in Britain for centuries; in fact, at least since Libyans came here with the Roman Army. My own doctoral research, on Africans in Britain 1500-1640, shows that there were at least 360 Africans present in these isles in that century and a half. Numbers had increased to an estimated 15,000 by the 18th century. Discovering this hidden part of our shared history is a journey we should take hand in hand with black communities. In many cases, and unlike the Jamaican taxi driver encountered by Baroness Parks, these individuals are far better informed than we are. At the recent exhibition at Kenwood, I met a woman who told me she had known about Dido for years, but met only with blank stares from custodians when she asked about her. It is this kind of encounter that we need to eradicate through more thorough research and dissemination of knowledge. It is the feeling that these stories have been ignored, or worse, purposefully hidden, that alienates and angers people. I went to a conference in Jamaica in December, where I gave a paper in Accompong, a Maroon settlement which dates back to the 1650s, on strategies for freedom employed by enslaved Africans in the 16th century Spanish Caribbean, and saw a few examples of the fascinating heritage buildings that remain there. I have recently discovered that my distant relation,* John Chambres-Jones of Bryn Eisteddfod (1750- 1833), was a part-owner of four slaving ships of Liverpool. These four ships, the Chambres, Clementine, Doe and Rose Hill are recorded as participating in 12 voyages between 1783 and 1791 on the website www.slavevoyages.com, which comprises a searchable database of all the transatlantic slave voyages ever made. I hope to investigate him further. The idea of speaking openly about what I may find is rather daunting, but I feel it is the least I can do.
* John Chambres- Jones was the father-in-law of my 3rd great grand aunt.
Read more about my research into connections between English Heritage properties and Slavery and my book review of Slavery and the British Country House. Kenwood House has recently incorporated the story of Dido Belle more fully into its interpretation, as you can see from these photos.
