The slaves, moaning and groaning at their fate, were pulled from the dugout and pushed along the deck to the head of the ladder that led below.“Send ‘em down, I say,” Bully Clant shouted. “Don’t give them bastards a chance to think. You hear me, damn your eyes!”Instantly the human cargo was forced down the ladder to the hold where Clant and his mates began the process of storing them for the long Atlantic voyage. It was also the slave’s first taste of the cat-o’-nine-tails for Bully Clant was well named. Without delay, the slaves, some writhing in pain, hurried to their appointed places and lay down.The row around the perimeter of the compartment was filled first, then the remaining space was used until the whole deck of the compartment was completely covered with human flesh. There was not even room to walk among them without using some as stepping stones. Each slave was allotted a specific space to lie in - about the width of a man’s shoulders and six feet long. Pairs were shackled together, right wrist to left wrist; right ankle to left ankle which severely limited movement or even turning over when asleep. Hygiene was performed into four barrels that were emptied by the sailors twice daily. These latrine barrels were oddly shaped; about two feet in diameter at the bottom tapering to one foot diameter at the top. Generally the barrels were about twenty-eight inches deep. Unfortunately, getting to a barrel was an arduous task for men shackled together and, especially when ill or short of food and weak, many slaves relieved themselves where they lay. This provided a natural breeding place for all manner of diseases, fungi and parasites and large numbers of slaves died if the crew did not clean the hold on a daily basis. In inclement weather, this was frequently impossible and then considerable shrinkage resulted.As Clant was storing the first group, another huge dugout left the beach with another load. Timed in this way, an almost continuous line of slaves was shunted into the hold and made part of the cargo of the Adventurer until a total of two hundred and thirty nine slaves were aboard.... two hundred and three males, twenty six females and ten young boys.As Clant arrived back up on deck he shouted at his men, “Batten down those hatch covers you useless bastards.”Immediately the crew sealed the entrances to the hold with large wooden gratings that admitted air - and through which the mournful dirges of the slaves soon were heard.At eight bells of the afternoon watch the first officer announced, “We’re ready for sea, Captain.”“Then let’s head her to the Indies, Mr. Wetherly.”“Aye sir.” He called out the sailing orders to the first mate, William Beade.Quickly, the anchors were raised, the sails set and the Adventurer, with its human cargo, began beating west southwest away from the Guinea Coast and out onto the Atlantic Ocean. The slaves, many believing they were fated to be killed and eaten by a race of red faced, giant cannibals they called Koomi, kept up the fearful keening until the coast became only a faint line on the starboard quarter.The Only Slavery Manual You'll Ever Need
Three Excerpts from The Slavers
The Story Behind the writing of The Slavers
and the dedication to: The Unknown Child
Years ago I was a young married man living in Modesto, California. One summer day I was driving to my in-law’s home on the other side of town. Moving slowly along a residential street I noticed a group of young girls, ages eleven to maybe thirteen, standing on the sidewalk. Suddenly there was a commotion and a young black girl broke away from the white kids and began a stumbling run down the street opposite my direction of travel. She was sobbing as only a child whose heart has been broken, can. The white kids were still yelling names at her, horrible, hurtful, names. I stopped my car and shouted at them to stop and they ran away. I looked back at the little black girl but she was just turning the corner, still in that staggering run. I wanted to go after her, to try to help her somehow, but I felt powerless. I sat there for some minutes feeling her pain and the terrible wrong of it then wiped the tears from my eyes and continued on my way. I never saw her again but I’ve thought about her many times and always whispered a little prayer for her.
Many years later I casually picked up the Entertainment section of a newspaper and, purely by chance, saw a small single paragraph by one column article about a play in a local theatre. It was written, directed and acted by black people. What really caught my attention was the quote of the first line. “Before the coming of the white man all the tribes in Africa lived in peace and harmony.” I was enough of an amateur historian to know that statement was totally false but it got me to wondering about the history of slavery. So I started researching. This is what I found.
Slavery was recorded 6000 years ago by the Sumerians and these slaves weren’t black people; they were the Sumerian’s neighbors. Nearly thirty percent of ancient Greece were slaves, then of course, the Romans conquered the Greeks and made them slaves. This scenario has been repeated countless times in the history of human kind. Every major civilization has been both slaver and enslaved at some time in their history.
The Doomsday Book, a census ordered by William the Conqueror in 1086, copies of which are available today, shows approximately fifteen slaves of various sorts for every person in the castle or manor house. All these slaves were white and their descendants, who carried the stigma and wanted a chance at a new and better life, were the source of the early white population in this country. Black slavery in the Caribbean only started after the indigenous Indians (Arawak and Carib) died in slavery and after indentured whites died from the tropical diseases. It is ironic that the black African’s resistance to tropical diseases became the underlying reason for their transportation to the Americas.
The major slaving nations around the so-called Slave Coast in Africa were the Ashanti, Dahomey, Hausa, Fanti and Waydah. Matter of fact, their main commerce was enslaving and selling their neighbors. The Arabs (Muslims) have been taking Blacks from Africa for over 2000 years and, according to the United Nations, are today, still enslaving black women and children for transport to the Middle and Far East. The point is that slavery has been a part of the human condition throughout history; not a good part but there nevertheless.
Suppose this --- that most all of us came from slavery, some just farther back --- was known by those children many years ago. Would their world have been a better place? I think so.
This is the mission behind, The Slavers and the thought behind the dedication. But make no mistake. While presenting the history of slavery as background to the main story (with source footnotes), this novel is an accurate telling of one of the most horrible blights on human nature, a hideous propensity which infected so many civilizations and cultures. The Slavers is true to the ethos of a time when human life was cheap, rights were available only to the strong or well-connected, sex and violence were alive and well and humans, white and black, young and old were commodities to be bought and sold.
Richard Brinton
Citrus Heights, CA
January, 2009
He was acutely conscious of her hand. "It happened a long time ago, Maria. I've been at sea for over sixteen years now."She slowly removed her hand from his arm. It felt almost like a caress. “You like it, I’m sure, but I think there must be dangerous times.”“Yes. Life at sea can be.... difficult.” And so is being close to you. She stopped and smiled at him. “Do you have a special woman in your life?”Martin felt a tightness in his stomach. “No.” He chuckled lightly. “No woman would have me.”Maria arched an eyebrow. “I think you’d be surprised.”Before he could erase the look of amazement off his face, she had turned and continued to stroll along the verandah.I feel so comfortable with him. She was surprised at the thought and examined it. I hardly know this man yet I’m attracted to him as if we’d shared intimacies. She tried to dismiss the sudden, moist warmth between her thighs. It’s just my need for a man. No! God knows I know what that feels like, she thought sourly.A small voice spoke inside her head. Maria, you little fool, remember your purpose. He must not tell Antonio that you were listening. Besides, he’s just a simple sailor, that’s all.... and you’re older and married. And lonely.But he’s not simple. He’s obviously educated and strong. And there’s a confidence in him.... He seems to be everything I’ve wanted all my life. Oh foolish woman, to think such thoughts. You’ve just met. You can’t know him at all. To even think he’s what you want or need is so foolish. Wake up, woman! He’s just another man and you’re just overflowing with desire.Then why do I feel this pain in my heart that’s never been there before? It was as if all her carefully built walls, constructed so painstakingly all these years, had suddenly broken asunder.You don’t even know him, the voice repeated.Is it not possible to have an instant bond with someone you’ve just met? And if I did, what then? The voice didn’t answer and she felt a deep ache of loneliness that seemed to be centered in her heart.They walked slowly, each intimately aware of the other, until they reached the north side of Government House. They stood together staring out over a flowering laurel forest that began just below them and stretched away and down the hillside before rising to climb the steep mountain range. Neither spoke, each afraid to break the fragile enchantment.On the surface Maria was the perfect lady but Martin sensed something.... as if she was just managing to contain.... what? He didn’t know. But he knew he wanted to touch her. What would happen if I take her arm? Dangerous thought, you fool. But she’s so attractive, so compelling. Casually, he leaned closer and breathed in her delicate perfume. His stomach muscles tightened involuntarily and heat flooded his loins. She’s bewitching me and she doesn’t even know it.Maria sensed his movement and read it accurately. He wants me! The thought burst joyfully into her mind. Then what? the same small voice asked. I don’t care! You must, the voice insisted. This isn’t like the others. Why? came the echo. Because it can’t be. I won’t let it be. The voice fell silent.Her resolve firm, Maria took his hand and led him to a nearby door. She produced a key from the folds of her gown, opened the door and entered the darkened room. Though his mind screamed a warning, Trane followed her. Excerpt two
Excerpt three
Down on deck Vance suddenly grinned. “Clant, get me that skinny slave with the big scar across his forehead.”In minutes Clant brought the man up from the slave hold. “This him, captain?”“Aye. He stares hard eyed at ole Samuel. I think maybe he’s got a load of hate for the Negra up the mast. Let’s just give him a chance and see what happens.” Vance glanced up the mast. “Loosen his shackles and give him a small knife.”Moments later the slave stood staring at the blade in his hand. Vance pointed up the mast at the tiny figure of Samuel.“You want him, he’s yours.” The man’s face slowly lit with comprehension. Tentatively, he moved toward the shrouds that led to Samuel’s perch while he judged the reaction of the captain man. No one interfered. He grabbed one of the tarred cross ropes and tested it with his weight. He glanced again at Vance then began to climb.Samuel watched as he might a viper crawling toward him. As the man made his way ever closer, the crew on the deck called course advice to both of them. In panic, Samuel sought a way out of the trap he’d put himself in but the only way down the mast was past the other slave and his knife.As the man ranged closer, he stretched upward and sliced the bottom of Samuel’s foot. The cut was deep and long and blood sparkled in the air as it fell in large droplets toward the deck below. Samuel screamed in pain and kicked ineffectively at the slave who was grinning widely at his trapped and helpless prey. He sliced again and Samuel’s other foot was opened to the bone.“You have sold our people and now you will die.” The man’s face was merciless.“It was the factor! I was only the factor’s slave!”“You will die.... slowly.... a piece at a time.” He grinned evilly. “I will climb a little higher and cut your balls.”Suddenly Samuel’s mind snapped completely. The fear that had been his constant companion for these many weeks turned to deranged fury. A great gust of sound erupted from his lungs as he threw himself at his tormentor. The shock knocked the man loose from his hold on the lines and Samuel, roaring still, careened off the shrouds and cart wheeled into the sea. His would-be assassin’s scream was abruptly silenced as he crashed heavily to the deck.Vance was furious. To waste a useless piece of shit like Samuel was worth the entertainment but to lose the price of a solid field hand was more than he expected to pay.He pointed at the mangled body seeping blood onto the deck. “Is that stupid son of a bitch dead?”Clant leaned close to the slave’s body. “Dead he be, captain. Couldn’t be no deader.”“Well then, toss the bastard over the side.”They never turned back to see if Samuel survived the fall.
