Wednesday, June 06, 2018

Phosphate Mining in Anguilla



The story begins millions of years ago when bats and sea birds came to nest in the naturally formed caves.  Over centuries, the level of guano, or bat or bird droppings, in the bottoms of these caves built up to a great height, nearly filling the cavities.  Then, as the Caribbean tectonic plate was dragged down under sea-level with the sinking Atlantic plate upon which it rested, the guano would be drowned in sea water.  Over a period of millions of years, this happened repeatedly.  Anguilla and Sombrero were sometimes above sea level for millions of years, and then it is estimated up to 10,000 feet under water for millions more years.  This process converted the fresh guano into a crystalline form which chemists call phosphate.
In 1814 and again in 1825, British geologists surveyed Sombrero and found that it abounded in guano.  In the 1840s, guano came to be prized in the industrial world as a source of saltpetre for gunpowder as well as an agricultural fertilizer.  The US began importing it in 1843.  By the 1850s the UK was importing over 200,000 tons a year while US imports totalled about 750,000 tons.
The international competition for guano resulted in the ‘guano mania’ of the 1850s, and increasing prices for the product.  In 1856 the US Congress enacted the ‘Guano Islands Act’. This Act enabled US citizens to take possession of unclaimed islands containing guano in the name of the United States, and empowered the president to send in armed military to intervene in the case of any dispute.  This encouraged US entrepreneurs to search for and exploit newly found deposits on tiny islands and reefs in the Caribbean and elsewhere.
This industry reached Anguilla and Sombrero in the 1850s and became important throughout the 1860s and 1870s.[1]  At an unknown date, probably in the early 1850s, a US mining enterprise, Messrs Copeland and Gowen, occupied Sombrero and in a short time quarried as they claimed over 100,000 thousand tons of guano.
The ships unloaded their Anguillian cargo in Baton Rouge at the mouth of the Mississippi River, from where it was placed in sacks and barged up-river.  The sacks of Anguilla and Sombrero guano were then loaded onto wagons and distributed to corn farmers through the mid-western United States.  We can justifiably say that the American prairies were, in the years before the American Civil War of 1861-1865, opened up to corn or maize agriculture fertilized with the guano of Anguilla.[2]
In the year 1856, after the passage of the Guano Islands Act permitted them to do so, Messrs Copeland and Gowen filed a claim to Sombrero Island on behalf of the United States with the State Department.  They alleged that they had employed a Captain Meltiah Jordan Jr to go on a voyage of discovery and that he had on one of those trips discovered guano deposits on Sombrero and had brought back a sample.  They had dispatched a second vessel commanded by Captain John Jordan, with instructions to take and retain possession of the island, which was done.  However, due to technicalities with the filed affidavits, the claim was not considered sufficient to warrant recognition of Gowen and Copeland’s claim.
The following year 1857, the mining firm of Wood and Grant acquired the interests of Copeland and Gowen.  In spite of their claim not being recognised, they occupied the island and removed guano.  As the US Civil War broke out, one of the previous owners, a Mr AC Elliott of Maryland, threatened to take possession of Sombrero by force, and make use of it for the Confederacy, or possibly for the slave trade.  By this time Wood and Grant had 45 labourers on the island, and they asked for protection against expeditions by the Confederates.  As a result, the Secretary of State wrote to the Secretary of the Navy remarking on the vital importance during the Civil War of the guano island of Sombrero belonging to the United States and the necessity of its protection by the Navy.  Mr Elliott does not seem to have proceeded with his claim, and Wood and Grant remained in possession of Sombrero.
In 1859, Mr Sawkins, the government geologist in Jamaica, was sent to Anguilla and Sombrero where he identified large deposits of phosphate.[3]  This would not have been difficult to do, since the Americans had been mining the mineral there for some years.  The supply of fresh guano having been exhausted, the American miners were now blasting the phosphate with dynamite from quarries.  The resulting chunks of the mineral were ground up by a steam-powered mill, and the resulting rubble slid down a chute to the holds of waiting ships tied up below the cliff.  So, the presence of phosphates would have been obvious to Mr Sawkins.
The following year, in August 1860, the West Indian workers on Sombrero revolted against the “slavery proclivities” of Mr Snow, a white US Superintendent, who did not know how to behave in the presence of free wage-earning men.  Four of the two hundred workers fatally injured Superintendent Snow and took over the island and the company’s money and stores.
By this time, the US occupation and exploitation of Sombrero’s mineral resources was attracting the attention of the British colonial authorities.  In 1863, Sombrero was the subject of diplomatic correspondence.  Wood, who was still occupying Sombrero, wrote the US Secretary of State complaining that the British Frigate PHAETON, Commanded by Captain Latham, had visited Sombrero on March 18, 1863 and forced the Americans on the island to haul down the American flag.  Captain Latham subsequently permitted the American occupants to put the flag up again, at the same time claiming they had no right to do so.  Wood & Sons claimed to have been in continuous, peaceful possession since December 1, 1856.  They admitted that they had not secured a proclamation of American sovereignty over the island under the Guano Islands Act, but several hundred tons of 75-80% pure phosphate still remained to be exploited.  They explained that since the blockade of the Southern Confederate Ports in 1861, they had shipped Sombrero’s phosphates almost entirely to England.  They were not interested in making any claim to the island, only to being allowed to remove and sell the phosphate.  Charles Francis Adams, the US Ambassador to the UK, negotiated with Lord Russell of the British Foreign office, as a result of which the Americans were offered a five year lease for the removal of phosphate, with a proviso that any United States claim to sovereignty over Sombrero was not prejudiced.  The US Secretary of State agreed to this arrangement, but the US never subsequently claimed any right to sovereignty over Sombrero.
At the height of mining activities on the island, a steam-powered engine pulled the waggons from the quarries or pits to the derrick which lowered their contents of phosphate to the boats waiting below.  The engine may also have been used to grind up the lumps of phosphate that were stored alongside the engine house awaiting the arrival of ships to take it away.  The rusting remains of the boiler can still be seen near the ruins of the engine house at the landing place on Sombrero.


1. Sombrero, circa 1864, crowded with phosphate ships
British interest in Sombrero was stirred by the need for a lighthouse to mark the Anegada Passage, the safest point of entry to the Caribbean Sea from the north.  The island lay directly in the route of shipping from England to South and Central America in an area with many shipping hazards.  From as early as 1848 the Admiralty was asked by shipping interests to install a light on it.  With the wreck in 1859 on Horseshoe Reef on Anegada of the Royal Mail Steam Packet Company’s ship PARAMATTA on her maiden voyage, requests to the Admiralty mounted.  The lighthouse was then built and it first showed its light on the evening of 1 January 1868.
From the early 1870s until 1885, a Cornish mining engineer, Thomas Corfield, was Superintendent of Sombrero.  His duties included organising the conveying of the phosphate to a spot which was convenient for loading the lighters to take the mineral to the ships lying off the island.  He supervised the construction of derricks and engine houses, and arranged the laying of the tram lines for the railway wagons which were loaded at the quarries.  The phosphate was piled in dumps near the engine houses and derricks.
2. Superintendent Corfield’s cottage on Sombrero, ca 1880
Workers were recruited mainly from St Maarten and Anguilla.  They lived in wooden huts during their term of service.  The Superintendent’s house was a wooden bungalow near the middle of the island, and the quarters of the technicians, store keepers and lighthouse keepers and other wooden buildings were grouped around it.  Stores and various supplies were obtained as needed from a Mr Nesbit, a Philipsburg merchant.  The company’s schooner LOGOS brought supplies from St Maarten and also took the labourers to and from their homes.
In 1871 the lease of the island was sold for £55,000 to a French banker in London, Baron Erlanger, and then sold again by him to the New Sombrero Phosphate Company for £110,000.  This transaction gave rise to ground breaking litigation in the famous case of Baron Erlanger v New Sombrero Phosphate Co (1878) App Cas 1218.  Erlanger, a French banker, purchased the balance of the lease of Sombrero Island which had been mined for many years previously for its phosphates by Mr Wood & Co.  He then floated the New Sombrero Company in the City of London, and issued a prospectus inviting purchasers to invest in it.  A large number of shares were sold.  Erlanger did not disclose in the prospectus that he was about to make a huge profit by selling the lease he had purchased to the company.  After three years of hearing nothing, the investors sent a detective to Anguilla and Sombrero to investigate.  He reported back that Sombrero was abandoned except for the lighthouse and that all the phosphate ore had been mined by the Americans.  The investors tracked down Erlanger and sued him.
It was held by the House of Lords, Britain’s final court of appeal at that time, that the promoters of a company are in a fiduciary relationship with investors.  They are obliged to put in the company prospectus the full details of any contract they have with the company they are promoting.  Erlanger, who had concealed the 100% profit he was going to make from the sale of the lease to the company, was found to have defrauded the investors.  The court ordered rescission of the contracts to purchase the shares, meaning that the contracts were set aside and the purchase price ordered to be repaid to the investors.  This case is the foundation of the company law doctrine that when promoters start up a company, if any one of them has any contract with the company, full disclosure must be made in the prospectus, or the investors will be able to have the prospectus declared by a court to be a fraud, and they can get their money back with damages.  This is a leading case in Caribbean, British, Canadian, and even United States company law.  By 1890 the phosphate works on Sombrero were completely abandoned, and no further effort was ever made to mine the island again.
Everyone in Anguilla has heard of the Gavannah Cave, sometimes pronounced Cavannah.  It lies on Rev John A Gumbs’ land in the Katouche Valley.  It is not a cave at all.  It is a mine.  A cave is a natural cavity in the land.  A mine is a man-made cavity, dug to remove minerals from below the ground.  The Gavannah Cave was dug by American miners during the 1870s when Anguilla’s mining industry was at its height.  It is not a very deep mine.  The main shaft is no more than 100 feet long, and lies just below the surface.
3. Gavannah Cave, after DA McFarlane and RDE MacPhee
There is a chimney or opening halfway down the tunnel.  Outside of the chimney there are mounds of large boulders and rubble, which indicates that there must have been a large winch above the opening which permitted the miners to remove the results of their dynamiting that way.
There is a short branch tunnel to the left after you enter the main tunnel, with a short shaft about 10 feet deep at the end of the branch tunnel.  There is 20 ft deep shaft at the end of the main tunnel.  When you climb down this shaft you find yourself in a sort of hub of two or three short tunnels, no more than 10 feet long, going off in different directions like the spokes of a bicycle wheel.  They appear to be exploratory tunnels that the miners dug in an effort to find more phosphate, as the mine came to the end of its productive life.  In those early days, miners did not know that phosphate was fossilised bat or seabird guano.  They may have thought that, like mining for gold or tin, if they struck out underground from a successful vein of mineral they might find more veins waiting to be discovered.  It was only many years later, when geologists discovered the great age of the earth and the many changes that it had gone through in the millennia of the past, that chemists were able to explain how phosphate came to be made.
We do not know at present who owned the land in the 1870s on which the Gavannah Mine was dug.  There are no leases or legal documents in the Anguilla Archives to give us this information.[4]  We can only hope that, whoever the Anguillian owners were, they made their fortune after decades of grinding poverty trying to make the poor soil of the Katouche Valley produce beef and goat-meat.
The Anguillian owners would not have been able to authorise the mining of phosphate on their land.  In the Leeward Islands the mineral rights in private land has long been vested in or owned by the Crown or government.  Only the Crown could grant a licence to dig for minerals in privately owned land.  The landowner could at most lease the bare land for the purpose of working it as a mine.  Was the Cavannah a legal mine, where the government of St Kitts received royalties from the mining while the Anguillian landowner received rents for the lease?  We do not know.  Very likely, it was an illegal mine, privately arranged between the Anguillian landowner and the American miners.[5]
We know that in his 1768 Will Governor Gumbs left the Katouche Bay Estate to his two daughters, Anne Warner and Katherine Payne.  It was then spelled Cadeaux Bay Estate.  To one he left the south bank of the valley and to the other he left the north.  Cadeaux is the French word for “gifts”, as in the plural of gift.  They shared the small sugar factory on the south slope half way between the Estate Well and the beach.  The ruins of the Boiling house can still be seen if you know where to look.  All sign of the Curing House and the Animal Round where the canes were crushed have disappeared in the intervening years.  The name Katouche has evolved from the original name Cadeaux.  The Anguillian English speakers did not know the correct way to pronounce the French word.  The pronounced it phonetically as “cadeuse”.  It began to be spelled in the deeds “Cuttous” or “Catouche” with a “C”.  Eventually the “C” was replaced with a “K” and we get the present spelling.
The Gavannah Cave was not the only phosphate mine in Anguilla.  Also bearing evidence of extensive phosphate mining is the Little Bay Phosphate Cave which can be seen on the eastern flank of Little Bay.  But, we know nothing of the working of the Little Bay Phosphate Cave.  Like the Gavannah Cave, it must have been informally leased and mined.
Palaeontology work began in the north-eastern area of the Caribbean in the mid-nineteenth century, when phosphate mining boomed in the region and fossils were coincidentally found in associated strata.  In the year 1868, Henry Waters & Brothers, manufacturers of phosphate fertilisers in the City of Philadelphia, received a shipment of cave earth from Anguilla.  The shipment was sent for the purpose of having the Philadelphia Academy of Sciences estimate the potential industrial value of the phosphate specimens included in the earth.  Henry Waters noticed the presence of fossil bones in his shipment, and promptly brought them to the attention of Edward Drinker Cope, an eminent palaeontologist.  Cope was at the time the Secretary of the Academy.  Cope recognised the fossil bones as coming from a rodent of phenomenal size.  He named the extinct animal that produced the fossils, Amblyrhiza inundata.[6]  The generic or first part of the name roughly translates as “strange root” reflecting Cope’s inability to conceive where such a strange beast could have come from.  The second or specific part of the name reflects Cope’s belief that the animal must have lived on an area of land that was now under the sea.  In that he is right, since Anguilla was in pre-historic times, when the sea level was hundreds of feet lower than it now is, part of a giant island named by geologists “Anguillea” and incorporating Anguilla, St Martin and St Barths.  Sea levels having risen 35 meters the higher parts of Anguillea are now separate islands surrounded by the sea.
They were dug from an unknown phosphate mine on Anguilla, probably the Gavannah Cave.  Fossil remains of Amblyrhiza have also been identified in St Maarten, and it is now defined as an extinct species of giant marsupial that is estimated to have weighed between 50 and 200 kg.  The extinct animal now also goes by the name the Blunt Toothed Giant Hutia.
4. Amblyrhiza inundata (reconstruction)
The fossils that were shipped to Professor Cope were accompanied by an Amerindian carved conch chisel.  The sciences of geology and biology were not as advanced in Professor Cope's time as they are now.  He thought it possible that the Amblyrhiza remains were associated with that of early man.  It is now known that the Giant Hutia pre-date the entry of man into Anguilla by many thousands of years.  The Amblyrhiza remains have been carbon dated to 125,000 years, while the earliest humans are not thought likely to have entered the Americas more than 30,000 years ago, showing that Amblyrhiza lived long before humans entered the American Continent from Asia.
We can hope that, one day in the future, some enterprising Anguillian student in a doctoral programme, perhaps preparing a thesis on the phosphate industry of Anguilla, will locate Anguilla’s archives in St Kitts, hopefully containing copies of the leases, if any, made to the American prospectors who worked the phosphates of Anguilla.  The mining company records may still be preserved in Philadelphia, and study of them may reveal details of the social life of the Anguillians of the 1850s to 1890s, as well, perhaps, as the engineering plans and designs for the works on Sombrero.  In London, among the Colonial Office records at Kew Gardens and elsewhere, will be found the correspondence and agreements relating to the licences granted to the original Sombrero Phosphate Company and the New Sombrero Phosphate Company.  These records will all prove useful in telling us something about the life and social conditions of the Anguillians of the mid- to late-nineteenth century.



[1]       As an aside, when speaking or writing about Sombrero, it is worth remembering that until as recently as 1951 Sombrero was attached to the British Virgin Islands, and was not a part of Anguilla as it is now.  In 1951 it was detached from Tortola and added to the colony of St Kitts and Nevis.  This was principally because the lighthouse on Sombrero had for many years been provisioned by the Schooner Warspite of Anguilla, which sourced the needed fuel for the lighthouse and provisions for the lighthouse men in the commercial outlets of Basseterre.  The lighthouse men came mainly from Anguilla, then a possession of St Kitts.  It must have seemed more convenient to the colonial authorities to have the island of Sombrero placed under the control of the government and legislature of St Kitts, which had more of an administrative connection with Sombrero than the government in Tortola.  In the 1982 Anguilla Constitution, as a result of negotiations between the British, St Kitts-Nevis, and Anguilla governments, Sombrero was for the first time detached from St Kitts and formally added to the territory of Anguilla.  As a result, we are entitled to treat the history of Sombrero as a part of the history of Anguilla.
[2]       The soil of the prairies needs fertilizer to be able to grow any crops since it consists of millions of acres of ancient sand dunes that formed from the bottom of the ancient sea that once occupied all of the central plains of the US.  Sand is notoriously lacking in nutrients and is only fertile when fertilizer is added to it.
[3]       CO 239/104 - No 122. Dispatch of Governor Hamilton of 8 October 1860 to Secretary of State Newcastle concerning his detention in St Kitts of Mr Sawkins to do a survey of St Kitts, he having completed his survey of the probable value of phosphate of lime in Anguilla.  I have searched for a copy of the survey in the colonial records at Kew Gardens, but have not been able to locate one.
[4]       There may be some in the St Kitts Archives of Anguilla, which will in due course shed light on the commercial dealings that surrounded this excavation.
[5]       We will only know the truth when we get to see the Anguilla Archives for the 1860s and 1870, presently being held for us in the St Kitts Archives in Basseterre.  The St Kitts authorities have generously agreed to hold our Archives for us until such time as we construct a suitable building to hold the fragile and crumbling documents.  To bring them to Anguilla, and store them in an un-air-conditioned and insect-riddled room would be stupid of us.

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

Privateering


War between the European powers was not always detrimental to Anguillian enterprise.  War provided economic opportunities for those Anguillians who dared to take the risks.  The surviving documents in the Anguilla Archives show Anguillians participating in the physically dangerous and financially risky enterprise of privateering.  The industry seems to have peaked in the later wars of the eighteenth century, just outside our period.
A privateer is a privately owned and manned ship, commissioned by a government to fight or harass enemy ships.  The commission, also known as a ‘letter of marque’, empowered the person to carry on all forms of hostility permissible at sea by the usages of war.  This authorised him, if he could put up sufficient security to guarantee his correct conduct, to sail as a private man-of-war, at his own risk, against the King's enemies.  He was able to attack foreign vessels during wartime and seize them as ‘prizes’.  A captured ship was subject to condemnation and sale under ‘prize law’ in a Court of Admiralty.  The proceeds of the sale in Anguilla were divided between the ship-owner, the captain and crew, and the court.  Normally, a share would go to the Crown as issuer of the commission.  In Anguilla, the Crown had no representative other than the deputy governor who was also the judge of the ‘Court of Admiralty’.  If the deputy governor also owned the privateering ship, and if his son or son in law was the captain of it, most of the proceeds of the sale could be kept in the family.  Needless to say, that is just what happened in Anguilla.
Privateers were a large part of the total military force at sea during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.  In the First Anglo-Dutch War of 1652,[1] English privateers in European seas attacked the trade on which the United Provinces of the Netherlands depended, capturing over 1,000 Dutch merchant ships.  During the subsequent Anglo-Spanish War of 1654,[2] Spanish privateers captured 1,500 English merchant ships, helping to restore Dutch international trade.  English trade was also attacked by Dutch privateers in both the Second Anglo-Dutch War of 1665[3] and the Third Anglo Dutch War of 1672.[4]  During the Nine Years War,[5] the French encouraged privateers to attack English and Dutch shipping.  England lost roughly 4,000 merchant ships during that war.  In the following War of Spanish Succession,[6] privateers took 3,250 English merchant ships.
When the Emperor Charles V died in 1700, his closest heirs were members of the Austrian Habsburg and Bourbon families.  The acquisition of the Spanish Empire by either of them would threaten the European balance of power.  Charles left his throne to the French Philip of Anjou, and he was proclaimed King of Spain the same year.  His right to the Spanish throne was recognised by England and the Dutch.  A Grand Alliance of other European powers promoted Archduke Charles, the younger son of the Habsburg Emperor Leopold, as their candidate for the Spanish throne, and war broke out in Europe in 1701.  In 1711, England, or Britain as she now was after the 1707 Union with Scotland, was tired of the war.  When Archduke Charles on the death of his older brother succeeded to the Habsburg throne, Britain withdrew from the war, and the Treaty of Utrecht followed in 1714.

The capture of St Eustatius by the British fleet in 1781.[7]
The Fourth Anglo-Dutch War of 1780-1784 is just outside our period.[8]  Locally, the most important impact was the capture in 1781 by Admiral Rodney of the neighbouring Dutch international free-trade entrepot of St Eustatius (Statia). 
Anguillian privateers in the earlier part of eighteenth the century were not able to get their captures lawfully declared prize of war by a Court of Vice Admiralty in Anguilla.  That was very inconvenient for deputy governor Gumbs,[9] one of the chief privateering financiers through the period.  So, we see him defending a case brought in 1756 by Captain John Watts before the Anguilla Council. From the record in the Anguilla Archives, it appears that George Brooks was the captain of either a schooner or a sloop owned by deputy governor Gumbs.  The deputy governor was in the happy position of being able to issue a commission to Mr Brooks to operate as a privateer.  Brooks captured the Brigantine Lucretia, captained by John Watts and owned by William Moore,[10] and brought it into port in Anguilla.  It is not clear from the record where Lucretia was registered, but from the names of her owner and captain she does not sound French.  Before Gumbs, sitting as his own informal Court of Admiralty, could confiscate the vessel and order it sold, Watts and Moore brought an action before the Anguilla Council for the release of the vessel.  Their claim was that their vessel was not engaged in enemy trade, and that it was unlawfully being detained and kept in Anguilla when it should be immediately brought before a Court of Vice Admiralty so that they could establish Lucretia’s true status.  The Anguilla Council, after hearing the parties, decided that governor Gumbs had done all in his power to persuade the Governor in Chief in Antigua to establish a Court of Vice Admiralty in Anguilla, but this had not yet been done.  So, it was not governor Gumbs’ fault that the Lucretia could not be either confiscated or freed.  Watts’ and Moore’s case was thrown out and they were moreover penalised by an order to pay the costs of the law suit.  This finding of no liability is no surprise when we consider that these are deputy governor Gumbs' own Council members sitting as a Court of Common Pleas.  It is not clear what happened to the Brig Lucretia in the end.  It was only some years after this incident that the Governor-in-Chief appointed the deputy governor and his Council to act as a Court of Vice Admiralty for Anguilla, but the exact date of the establishment of the court is not known.  The consequence of this appointment was that the court in Anguilla could now legally order foreign (which in Anguilla’s case always means ‘non-Anguillian’) ships confiscated and sold.  Once established, the Anguillian Court of Vice Admiralty was kept busy hearing appeals by outraged traders whose vessels were seized by Anguillian privateers.
Anguilla's most famous privateer of our period was Captain Edward Richards.  He moved to Anguilla from Antigua in about the year 1757 during the Seven Years War, and settled here.  He married well, choosing Tabitha, deputy governor Benjamin Gumbs' daughter.  Now well-connected, he lived in Anguilla for a several years during the 1760s.  He purchased land at Crocus Bay, Anguilla’s main port of entry, and just down the hill from the deputy governor’s house which doubled as the Council room and the Courthouse.  He engaged in trade when not privateering, and from time to time he acted as a court-appointed arbitrator in trading disputes over shipping accounts.
There are a number of documents of the period preserved in the Anguilla Archives that deal with Edward Richards’ career as a privateer.  In deputy governor Gumbs, he had a merchant and planter willing to invest in equipping his boat with guns, ammunition, supplies and men, in the expectation of sharing in the profits of his capture.  He would have received his letter of marque from the same deputy governor Gumbs.
Once he captured a prize he would bring it to Anguilla for trial before the Court of Vice Admiralty.  If the vessel was condemned, the Court would itself receive a part of the value of the prize for the King's revenue.  This would include the judges' own fees and expenses.  It is likely, given this arrangement, that many unlawfully seized ships were ordered to be sold.
At no time during this period was any account kept of the King’s revenue in Anguilla.  Needless to say, any revenue earned by the Court went into the judge’s pocket.  That is how Anguillian judges of the day were expected to be paid.  It might have occurred to Richards, therefore, that it would be somewhat advantageous to him to have as President of the Court of Vice Admiralty his own father-in-law and co-investor in his venture.  However, we do not know from the sparse records  whether this arrangement ever resulted in any great profit to Richards.
When Richards died in 1765, his young widow was left to pay his debts.  His simple will of that year left her all his estate, both real and personal.[11]  She was obliged to mortgage the family property in 1767.  The mortgage was only paid off fifteen years later in 1782 after she recouped her fortune by marrying the wealthy St Martin merchant, Morgan Beaumour Marchant.  Mr Marchant also conveniently resided at least part of the time in Anguilla and served on deputy governor Gumbs' Council.[12]
In return for the letter of marque, a privateer was expected to put up a bond with two sureties to guarantee that he would only seize legitimate enemy ships.  In the Anguilla Archives for 1762 we find Edward Richards giving a typical privateering bond.  Why are we not surprised to see that the two sureties signing the bond with Richards are none other than deputy governor Gumbs’ captain George Brooks and the local merchant Joseph Burnett?  They bind themselves in the sum of fifteen hundred pounds sterling.  The condition of the bond is for the lawful performance by Richards of his commission, or letter of marque.  This commission authorises him to arm and equip the sloop the Fry to seize and take ships of the French.
We see another bond in the Archives for the sloop the Lyon, of thirty tons.[13]  This was again captained by Richards.  In other documents in the Archives, we see him captain of the sloops War Trial and the Hawke.  At various times during his career, he captured several ships including the Dirkinsen Sara, the sloop Three Friends, the snows[14] Justice and Gereghteyheidt, and the privateer Amazon.
There is also in the Archives a 1758 bond of the Hon Benjamin Gumbs, Peter Harrigan and Richard Rogers for Jacob Gumbs, to be captain of the 30 ton privateer Rebecca.  Jacob Gumbs along with John Smith also owned the sloop Diamond.  Jacob Gumbs was probably deputy governor Benjamin Gumbs’ uncle who is recorded as killed before 1760, probably in a naval action which went wrong.  There is no record in the files as to whether he made his fortune at privateering before he died.  We can be sure that he would have received a sympathetic hearing concerning any prize vessels he brought into Anguilla prior to his death to be tried before his nephew’s prize court.
There are few other specific references to other Anguillian privateers during our period, 1650-1776.  Given the dearth of Anguillian records, we can be sure that those who are memorialised in the Anguilla Archives are not the only ones who tried their hand at this venture.  There is for example, a later privateering commission of October 1782 issued by the Court of Vice-Admiralty at Antigua to Richard Browning of Anguilla, commander of the brig Revenge.  This authorises him to seize the shipping of the revolting American colonists and against British ships trading with them.  There is also the later 1782 privateering commission issued by the Court of Vice-Admiralty at Antigua to Richard Browning of Anguilla, commander of the brig Revenge, against the shipping of the revolted American colonists and against British ships trading with them.[15]
We can be reasonably certain that, with her long tradition of ship building and sea faring, Anguilla produced her share of privateers in all the wars of our period.  From Richard Browning’s commission it appears that by 1782 the authorities decided to end Anguilla’s authority to issue commissions.  Anguillian privateers were now obliged to obtain their letters of marque from the Governor in Chief in Antigua, and to bring their prizes in to St John’s where they could be tried in an independent court.  Deputy governor Gumbs and his successors were deprived of a lucrative source of additional income.  This was not to be the last time that the greed and excesses of Anguilla’s leaders in flouting international norms and laws in pursuit of lining their own pockets was to lead to the slapping down of some of the more borderline Anguillian enterprises.  But, that is another story.


[1]       1652-1654. To protect its position in the Americas, in October 1651 the English Parliament passed the first of the Navigation Acts, which mandated that all goods imported into England must be carried by English ships or the vessels from the exporting countries, thus excluding the mostly Dutch middlemen. This led to a number of skirmishes between the vessels of both nations, culminating in the declaration of war by the Commonwealth on 10 July 1652.
[2]       1654-1660. This was a conflict between the English Protectorate under Oliver Cromwell and Spain. It was caused by commercial rivalry.  Each side attacked the other’s commercial and colonial interests in various ways such as privateering an dnaval expeditions.  In the West Indies, the most significant development was the capture in 1655 of Jamaica by Penn and Venables.
[3]       1665-1667. The year after the 1666 fire had gutted London’s commercial centre, the Dutch fleet under Admiral de Ruyter sailed up the Thames Estuary and set fire to the ships of the English fleet. The Dutch victory had a major psychological impact throughout England. This, together with the cost of the war and the extravagant spending of Charles’ Court, produced a rebellious atmosphere in London.  King Charles ordered his envoys at Breda to sign a peach quickly as he feared an open revolt against him.
[4]       1672-1674. Without much public enthusiasm, Charles II joined the French Louis XIV in his attack on the Republic. Admiral de Ruyter gained several strategic victories against the Anglo-French fleet and prevented them from invading the Netherlands.  After these failures, parliament forced Charles to make peace.
[5]       1688-1697. This war was initially caused by King Louis XIV invading the German Palatinate, resulting in William of Orange, the Dutch-born King of England to form a Grand Alliance against France. The war raged across Europe, but France did not have the resources to defeat both the English and the Dutch, and peace was at last concluded by the Treaty of Ryswick.
[6]       1701-1713. This mainly European conflict was triggered by the death of the childless King Charles of Spain in 1700. His closest heirs were members of the Austrian Habsburg and the French Bourbon families. Acquisition of an undivided
[7]       The reason for the inscription at the top reading from right to left is that this painting is a ‘trompe d’oeil’. It is meant to be viewed in reflection in a mirror, when it would be easily readable.
[8]       1780-1784. It was caused by the Dutch Republic supporting the Americans who had rebelled against the British Crown.  The Dutch sided with the Thirteen Colonies in the American War of Independence, 1775-1783, when the mainland colonies in America declared independence as the United States of America.  Some of the southern island colonies in America, particularly Jamaica, seriously considered joining the war on the side of the mainland colonies.  But, in the end, they all remained loyal to the Crown.  Their trade was badly affected by the British blockade of the rebelling colonies, and the economies of all of the islands were badly hit.
[9]       Deputy governor of Anguilla from 1750 to his death in 1768.
[10]     Both good St Kitts names of the period.
[11]     Anguilla Archives: Edward Richard’s 1765 Will.
[12]     Chapter 17: The Council.
[13]     Anguilla Archives: A selection of 1762 privateering bonds.
[14]     A snow is a square-rigged sailing ship with two masts.
[15]     October, 7th, 1782. Bancroft Library, University of California.