I found John Moseley (Mozley) in the New South Wales muster of 1828. He was described as a dealer in Essex Lane in the Rock, unmarried and childless, but employing two women servants. Moseley was an emancipated convict who had arrived in New South Wales on the Scarborough in 1788. On his conditional pardon, Moseley was described as over 5 feet 7 inches tall, with black complexion, black eyes and woolly hair. His previous occupation, he said, was a tobacco planter in America. The description locates him within the African diaspora, while his previous occupation geographically locates him in the Chesapeake region of the American colonies, probably the tidewater of Virginia, where tobacco culture was most intense.1
It was possible for an African-American to have been a tobacco planter in Virginia in the late 18th century. Small scale cultivation of tobacco did exist and a tiny few of these farmers were free blacks. Overwhelmingly, however, tobacco cultivation was carried out on large plantations owned by white grandees and worked by African slave labour. Moseley's London trial record indicated that he must have left America by 1783 and that he was in his mid twenties, probably born around 1758. To be so young, as well as black, makes it next to impossible for him to have been a self-employed tobacco farmer. Almost certainly, he was a tobacco planter only in the sense of being part of the enslaved labour force of the tidewater plantations.2But how did a young plantation slave from Virginia get to be on trial in London?
Given the date of 1783 as his likely arrival, Moseley was certainly one of thousands of African-American runaways who came with the British evacuation of America at the end of the War of Independence. There is almost no documentation of the massive British evacuation of America, but one document, known as the Book of Negroes, lists 3000 African-Americans evacuated by the British from New York in 1783. Sure enough, it includes John Moseley, aged twenty-five. I believe this is the same John Moseley tried at the Old Bailey in 1784. In his account of himself in the Book of Negroes, Moseley said he 'lived with John Cunningham, Portsmouth, Virginia as freeman; left him in 1776.' His name points us to one of the biggest and grandest planters in the area: Edward Hack Moseley of Princess Anne County, next to Norfolk. The surname suggested that at one time he or his father, maybe even grandfather were enslaved on the Moseley plantation. His somewhat ambiguous claim not to have been a slave in Virginia must be read with caution, as he provided no evidence of his emancipation in Virginia. The only evidence of his free status, which allowed him to leave America, was a certificate from a British general at New York. Moseley is probably the Jack listed in the tithable property of John Cunningham, who was an captain in business with Robert Gilmore and James Parker. Like these men Cunningham was a Loyalist who defected to Lord Dunmore in 1776, probably taking his enslaved property with him to New York, where he would have become free.
He was employed by the Wagon Master-General's Department and lived in 'Negro barracks' across the East River at the wagon yard in Brooklyn, where labourers slept twelve to a room, supplied weekly with a lamp and a pint of oil for each room. That runaway slaves should occupy even these meagre lodgings infuriated some white loyalists. Presumably, another cause for loyalist complaint was the fact that runaways working for the British were also paid, albeit sometimes at a lower rate than whites. Close by the wagon yards were the shipyards, where the massive British fleet was maintained. Over seven years the opportunity for John Moseley to have become acquainted with British crew were boundless. A ship that was regularly in New York was HMS Loyalist and one of the several African-American seamen on board that vessel was Amos Anderson, who, at some stage, became a friend of Moseley.15
When the United States finally gained control of New York on 1 December 1783, they found that as many as five thousand Africans Americans had been systematically evacuated over the preceding thirteen months. Most of Edward Hack Moseley's surviving runaways went to Nova Scotia in July 1783. Whatever John Moseley's relationship to these people - son, grandson, brother, cousin-he seems to have chosen not to join them. Although he was listed on the Elijah bound for Nova Scotia in October 1783, just over a month later, John Moseley and Amos Anderson applied together to claim seaman's wages in London, having just been discharged from the HMS Loyalist. Soon after that, Anderson was shanghaied and taken to the West Indies to be sold. Moseley must have known what had happened to Anderson, and he returned to the Loyalist with a certificate for Anderson's wages for an earlier voyage, where it had been erroneously noted that Anderson had deserted. Saying that Amos was sick in Wapping and could not come himself, Moseley induced the captain to sign the certificate to the effect that Anderson had not deserted. He was then able to claim Anderson's wages on 30 December 1783. One might have some sympathy for Moseley, who no doubt believed the money would never be claimed. Not able to find work in London swarming with unemployed men demobilised after the war, he did not have recourse to poor relief. It seems that he had taken a common law wife, so he would have had desperate need of Anderson's unclaimed wages. Unhappily, Anderson escaped from his re-enslavement, got a berth on the Enterprise from Rhode Island and was back in England in March, where he quickly established that his friend had defrauded him of his wages.19
At his trial at the Old Bailey on 21 April 1784, Moseley was sentenced to death. After nearly a year in the condemned cells in Newgate he was called to reappear before the Old Bailey on 3 March 1785 to be reprieved from hanging in favour of transportation to Africa. He had escaped the gallows, but on the other hand, to be sentenced to transportation to Africa meant a separation as profound as death. While languishing in vile Newgate, Moseley seems to have managed to father a child either with his wife or a fellow inmate. In November 1785, a 'mulatto' baby of three months named Jane Moseley was baptised in St Marylebone, probably having been taken into Thomas Coram's foundling home in that parish that regularly took in children from Newgate.20
In Newgate Mosely doubtless encountered John Martin another black sailor sentenced in 1782 who had been selected to go aboard the Den Keyser a slave ship chartered to take forty men and women to west coast of Africa. Earlier that year, another 350 convicts reprieved on condition they become soldiers were formed into two independent companies and landed at the slave trading fort of Cape Coast Castle. Supposedly, they were to defend Britain's slave-trade interests against attack by the Dutch, who had joined the alliance against England. Having been starved and brutalized by their corrupt and murderous commander, these soldier-felons created havoc at Cape Coast Castle. According to the governor of the castle, "from the very day these convicts landed, their thoughts were turned upon rapine and plunder." In a trice they picked the locks on the company storehouse and broke into the market stalls of the local Africans. Muskets and ammunition issued to them for an attack on the nearby Dutch settlement were sold to the Africans in exchange for brandy, while thirty convicts deserted to the Dutch and used their weapons to assist in the Dutch defense. Twenty-five men, who were embarked on a ship to go down the coast to relieve another fort, overpowered the crew and sailed away. Those who remained at Cape Coast were perpetually drunk. By the time the Den Keyser was ready to sail from England, only some thirty of the felon-soldiers were left alive at Cape Coast. The African Company, whose interests they were meant to protect, lodged vigorous protest against receiving any more convicts, so only fifteen of those on the Den Keyser were to be taken Cape Coast Castle; the rest were to be taken to Goree and dumped there.21
Martin was seriously ill when he embarked on board the Den Keyser on November 1. Too sick to make the voyage, Martin was returned to jail. Those who did make the journeyhad every reason to wish themselves back in the horrid confines of Newgate. They were landed without any provisions and no direction as to what was expected of them. The exasperated governor at Cape Coast Castle had no provisions to spare and ordered that they must look out for themselves or starve. He was not without sympathy, but at a loss for what to do for people "landed naked and diseased upon the sandy shore ... seen dying upon the rocks or upon the sandy beach, under the scorching heat of the sun." He was especially shocked by the state of the women, "landed here to be common prostitutes among the blacks" and arranged for them to be taken to the town. Sending convicts to Africa made economic sense. Slave ships from English ports usually went empty to the coast of Africa, so it would be advantageous if they could be stocked with a profitable cargo of convicts, just as previously ships bound for America had carried convicts and returned with tobacco. Since 1776, however, legislation had made it impossible for a contractor to trade in convicts: they could no long sell convict labor, nor could they transact with a convict to buy out servitude. Nevertheless, there was money still to be made. Anthony Calvert, of the slave-trading company Camden, Calvert and King, was keen to be involved. The stumbling block was the refusal of the African Company to take any more convicts into its slave forts after the debacle at Cape Coast in 1782.
Despite the African Company's vehement opposition, the Home Office received unexpected support for an African solution from a previous governor at Cape Coast Castle, John Roberts, who put forward a radical plan to deport the country's accumulating felons. Recognizing that "the government must get rid of them some how or another", Roberts suggested that convicts should be sentenced to a life of hard labor on plantations established adjacent to Cape Coast Castle. "There is not an island in the West Indies produces better cotton than we every day see growing spontaneously in Africa," he enthused. Land could be purchased cheaply from the free Africans who lived around the castle, and gangs of convicts could be set to clearing the ground for the cotton, under the supervision of drivers with whips. Essential to his scheme was the construction of a penal fortress with twenty strong locked chambers each holding ten men under the surveillance of a driver, armed with a musket. As well, there must be some authority invested with judicial power to hang any who tried to desert or shirk their work. "No doubt many of them would soon die after they got there," he allowed, if not from fever then from hard labor in the African sun. Still, he reasoned, "this set of people are now got so numerous that it seems absolutely necessary for humanity to give way in some measure."22
Roberts's utterly outlandish plan appears to have been taken seriously by the Under Secretary of the Home Office, Evan Nepean. At the very time that Nepean was digesting Roberts's plan to turn convicts into plantation slaves at Cape Coast, he was arranging with Camden, Calvert and King to transport convicts to Cape Coast on the slave ship Recovery, then lying in the Thames. Arrangements were made with the Treasury to have convicts taken to Gravesend, where the Recovery was tendered with provisions for 150 convicts. However, when the Secretary of State for the Home Office, Lord Sydney, proposed the plan to the committee of the African Company, they would not have a bar of it, insisting that more convicts "would endanger their settlements." Nepean was left holding a contract with Camden, Calvert and King. Anthony Calvert was a member of the Committee of the African Company, so more pressure was applied until the committee gave a little ground. On January 13, 1785, some twenty-two convicts were loaded in the Recovery and shipped to Cape Coast Castle. It is not known what happened to all of them; mostly they died.23
Nepean then turned his attention to Lemaine Island, about 400 miles up the Gambia River, which he thought capable of sustaining a settlement of some 4000 convicts. The idea of convict settlement in the Gambia River was first mooted by John Roberts, years earlier, and revived by Nepean's friend, James Bradley, chief clerk to the newly formed India Board. Bradley had approached his two brothers about a business venture in Lemaine in late 1784, and subsequently informed Nepean that a convict settlement could be organized and managed as a family enterprise. On January 5, 1785, Nepean authorized Richard Bradley to go to Gambia to negotiate for the purchase of the island from its indigenous owners. At the same time the slave-traders Camden, Calvert and King indicated that they were keen to tender for the transport contract. In January, officials of the city of London were personally briefed by Lord Sydney that convicts would soon be sent to Africa. The judiciary swung into action to facilitate the process with sessions at the Old Bailey converting sentences to transportation to Africa.24
It was apparent from the draft proposal that Lord Sydney sent to the Treasury in February that convicts sent were not to be set to establishing cotton plantations on Lemaine. Instead, they would be left to their own devices, while provided with building materials, agricultural tools and seeds, to create some kind of a self-governing, self-sustaining society. An agent on an offshore vessel would prevent their interfering with any slave-trading interests. The person appointed in this role was Anthony Calvert, the slave-trader with the contract to transport the convicts, who had not the slightest interest in their welfare. On March 19, Duncan Campbell was able to inform Treasury that he had secured the hulk Ceres "for a temporary reception of convicts under sentence of transportation to Africa" and that he had set about getting it ready. It was the government's intention to delay the voyage until the end of August or early September, after the rainy season had passed, and to concentrate the designated convicts on the Ceres. Campbell, well aware how eagerly prison governors across the country would embrace the offer of accommodation, advised the captain of the Ceres that felons "will be forced upon us as quick as we can take them." He also warned that as soon as the convicts discovered they were bound for Africa, there would be mutiny.25
Moseley was among a hundred convicts from Newgate transferred to the Ceres hulk to await transportation to Africa. He was said to be twenty-seven years old. Convicts were selected for the Ceres, the House of Commons was told, because they were judged to be 'of the most desperate and dangerous disposition, deserving for the sake of the public example of the greatest severity'. Duncan Campbell's mode of incarceration was more efficient and more humane than that of the keeper of Newgate. It was also much better regimented, so that the opportunity for intimate interaction available in Newgate was much more limited. Nevertheless, families and friends did come aboard the hulk to bring money and clothing, as well as food to supplement the provisions of bread, potatoes, pease soup, oatmeal and small quantities bullock head or beef, a ration based on the naval allowance. Even though the food allowance was more substantial than Newgate, the hulk diet was conducive to scurvy and other illnesses that were compounded by damp, crowded and confined living arrangements. Between July and December 1785, 60 men died on the Ceres. John Moseley was reported among the deceased, but this was a case of mis-identification, as he was still being recorded on the Ceres a year later.26
All the convicted black men in London, with the exception of the youngest had been put aboard the Ceres, regardless of the severity of their sentence. Those eight black convicts waiting transportation to almost certain death in Africa represented 6% of the men on the Ceres, in contrast to the prison population, where black felons constituted less than 1%. As Africans they may have been considered the most likely to survive abandonment in Africa, even though few observers had any doubts that the place would make short work of everyone assembled on the Ceres. As Edmund Burke sardonically observed at the same time Moseley received his pardon, a death sentence that had been a commuted to transportation to Africa was nothing less than a 'singularly horrid' death sentence, 'after a mock display of mercy'. Africa was 'the capital seat of plague, pestilence and famine', Burke told the House of Commons, where 'the gates of Hell were open day and night to receive the victims of the law'.27
Burke was one of the members of the House of Commons who had raised the alarm about the proposal for a penal settlement in the Gambia River and persuaded the parliament to establish a committee to investigate the proposal in April 1785. One after another, experts confirmed that Africa was a place of disease and death. An army surgeon, who had spent some years in Senegal, said that two thirds of the army had died within a year of being sent there. Another who had lived on the west coast told the tale of 300 Frenchmen sent up the Gambia River to work the gold mines. Only three had returned. Convicts sent to the Gambia River would 'either die from disease or at the hands of the natives', he stated flatly. Finally, and most damningly, the committee heard evidence from Henry Smeathman, who reckoned that even if the convicts were landed 'in the most healthy part of the country', half would be dead within a month and 'only two at the most would be alive after six months'.28
Evidence of that kind killed the Gambia proposal, giving Moseley an escape from certain death in pestilential West Africa. Under Secretary Nepean was more than a little disgruntled that 'from the mistaken humanity of some and the affected tenderness of others' the plan had been shelved. In their first report on 9 May, the committee ruled out a Gambian location and suggested a naval sloop HMS Nautilis be sent to examine Das Voltas Bay, near present day Namibia. Moseley languished on the Ceres while the sloop Nautilus was sent off to investigate the next supposed site. In June 1786, so confident was Nepean of his African solution that he had begun arrangements with a slave trading firm Camden, Calvert and King to ship a thousand convicts, of whom 150 were to be women, to Das Voltas Bay. However, the sloop Nautilus returned in August 1786 with the news that the Das Voltas region was 'sandy and barren and from other causes unfit for settlement', so Lord Sydney informed the Treasury. This was unwelcome news. There were about 1300 convicted felons on five separate hulks and the government was more than anxious to be rid of them. As Sydney acknowledged, it was imperative to solve the problem of the 'crowded jails and infectious distempers that may break out amongst them'. With that matter in the forefront of his mind, Sydney continued, 'His Majesty thought to fix on Botany Bay' as the destination for his unwanted felons. Having hitherto shown complete disinterest in Botany Bay, Sydney now lauded the place for the 'fertility and salubrity of the climate'. The greatest appeal of Botany Bay, he stressed, was 'the remoteness of its situation (from whence it is hardly possible for people to return without permission)'.29
The first of the fleet to Botany Bay arrived on 18 January1788. Those officers who went ashore found that New South Wales was a place to deceive the eye. At first sight the country resembled a gentleman's park, with stately trees and grassy meadows, but in reality it could not have been more alien from the tranquillity of pastoral England. Tormented by flies by day and ready prey for swarms of mosquitos after dusk, these eager young men looked in vain for the fine meadows of which Banks and Cook had boasted. They found instead the grass was long and coarse and the soil was sandy. Massive tree trunks rose straight up for fifty feet or more, their narrow leaves providing little shade from the remorseless sun. The more closely the officers looked, the more bewildered they became. Botany Bay in no way resembled the salubrious descriptions offered by Captain Cook.
Still, a start had to be made to create this latest outpost of empire, so a small work party of convicts from the transport ship Scarborough was landed each day to cut grass for the livestock and to attempt clear a site. Happily, the Aboriginal inhabitants proved to be inquisitive rather than hostile and were especially curious to find a black man among the interlopers. None of the fleet's many diarists recorded exactly which black convict landed with the initial work party-there were three black convicts aboard the Scarborough- but it could well have been Moseley. A watching naval officer thought that the Aborigines were 'much pleased' to see a 'man of their own complexion' attacking the landscape with strange weapons. He thought the Aborigines were puzzled when the black convict failed to understand their language but this was his fanciful rendering of the unintelligible behaviour of the indigenous people. For the Aborigines of eastern Australia, someone from Africa dressed in a convict uniform would appear no less alien to them than those with pale faces in the same funny clothes.30
On 24 January, Phillip resolved to move the entire fleet further north to a more pleasing site at Port Jackson. John Moseley was among the very first to step ashore at what became Sydney Cove, with a work party from the Scarborough ordered to clear the trees for settlement. Even though he must have been relieved to find himself on land, it would have been cruelly painful after 258 days at sea, lurching about on sea legs with scurvy-softened bones. If it were not difficult enough to hew enormous trees when the earth appeared to be heaving beneath, the timber was so hard that it blunted the axes and twisted the inadequate cross cut saws. After two days of work in searing heat Moseley and his fellow convicts had cleared enough ground for the rest of the fleet to disembark and start pitching tents among the tree stumps.
Within a few months, enterprising convicts had managed to construct huts from the soft cabbage palms that grew in abundance around the cove, rendered with mud and thatched with grass. Moseley shared just such a hut with John Randall, a runaway slave from Connecticut, who was sentenced to transportation in Manchester, and Randall's white wife, Esther. Mary Hill, like Esther was from the Lady Penryn who was convicted of at the Old Bailey around the same time the and confined together for more than year in Newgate seems to taken have up with Moseley. It is impossible to know much about the experience of convicts during the first years at Sydney Cove, black or white, as only fleeting glimpses of convict life have survived and archeological evidence relates to a later period. We do know that all the heavy work of clearing and building had to be done by convicts still suffering the effects of scurvy, most of them from the urban slums of England and unaccustomed to labouring. There were no beasts of burden; the task of carting the huge trees and stones fell on their puny shoulders. The black convicts may have had an advantage, as they were taller and stronger than most convicts, a head taller that almost every convict at Sydney Cove. Unfortunately, ration allocation took no account of size or the amount of labour undertaken. With remarkable fairness, Phillip had decreed that, regardless of status, every man would have the same weekly ration, which was nowhere near sufficient to sustain a child, let alone large adult at ten hours of backbreaking labour a day.
How Moseley managed his hunger, we do not know. Unlike the flamboyant Black Caesar, who assuaged his hunger by becoming Australia's first bushranger, Moseley never came to the attention of the indefatigable chronicler of the early settlement, Judge Advocate David Collins. His association with John Randall may have helped. He was appointed one of three game shooters for the settlement with an enviable degree of freedom of movement, working largely un-supervised, ranging widely through the bush tracking and shooting kangaroo, often out for days at a time, with plenty of opportunity to procure fresh meat for himself and their close associates. Throughout his time in New South Wales, Moseley escaped scrutiny, despite his conspicuous colour and background. Marriage and baptismal records show only that he did not marry, nor father children, in the colony. Perhaps he still considered himself married to the mother of his child in England. The record is silent until 3 April 1800 when he received his conditional pardon.
By then the town of Sydney had a population of 2200 adults of whom only 40 per cent were still convicts. They largely lived cheek-by-jowl in an urban environment that was entirely dependent on importation of household necessities such as tea, sugar, tobacco, soap as well as manufactured goods and spirits. Many of the emancipated convicts without land, as well as convicts with families lived in the Rocks, a jumble of ramshackle dwellings linked by a web of steep footpaths that had sprung up along the rocky ridge behind the hospital and commissary store where houses were built higgledy-piggledy without any kind of survey, lease, formal title, planning or forethought. This elevated, streetless neighbourhood, with its commanding view over the harbour, was fast becoming the commerical centre of Sydney. Housed within the jumble of one and two roomed huts was a growing population of tradesmen and labourers, as well as enterprising men and women who ran bakeries, laundries, forges, pubs and shops from their homes. Below them, at the edge of the cove, more imposing commercial enterprises of wharves and warehouses were taking shape.
Moseley was nearly forty when he was emancipated and without a female partner, a commonplace situation in a town where the ratio of men to women was four to one. He went to live in the Rocks and took various jobs on the wharves and warehouses below. The 1822 muster listed him working as a labourer for William Chippendale at Liverpool and in 1825, he was employed by Messrs. Berry & Wollstonecraft, merchants based in Sydney. That same year he was reissued a conditional pardon that gave his birth as 1764, suggesting that Moseley was progressively lowering his age. It was on that conditional pardon he gave his previous occupation as tobacco planter. By the census of 1828, which was the last record of his existence in the colony, he had further refashioned himself, claiming to be aged sixty, thereby shaving a decade or more of his life and free by servitude, implying he had only a seven year sentence. His occupation, he said, was to be self-employed as a dealer in Essex Lane on the edge of the Rocks where he employed two young women as servants. He died four years later.31
By way of a series of escapes John Moseley finally found freedom and modest prosperity in Sydney, where, with consummate irony, he could describe himself as a tobacco planter from America, his ultimate escape from a dehumanising economy that categorised him as property.
1 See M. Gillen, Founders Of Australia: A Biographical Dictionary Of The First Fleet, Sydney 1989, p. 255.
2 For Tidewater tobacco cultivation see A. Kulikoff, Tobacco and Slaves: The Development of Southern Cultures in the Chesapeake, 1680-1800, Chapel Hill, 1986; Moseley trial, Old Bailey Session Papers (OBSP) 1783-84, pp. 555-6.
3 Book of Negroes PRO 30/55/100; for John Cunningham, see R.L. Scribner (ed), Revolutionary Virginia: The Road to Independence, Vol. V, Charlottesville, 1983, p. 360.
4 Runaway slave notices, Dixon & Hunter Virginia Gazette, 26 August, 1775.
5 Purdie 's Virginia Gazette, 24 November 1774; for the Fourth Virginia Convention see Revolutionary Virginia, Vol. V, p. 139; Pendleton to Lee, 27 November 1775, John D. Mays, (ed.), The Letters and Papers of Edmund Pendleton, Vol.1, Charlottesville, 1967, p.133.
6 For Creole slave life see A. Kulikoff Tobacco and Slaves: The Development of Southern Cultures in the Chesapeake, 1680-1800, chapter 9; L. Stanton Slavery at Monticello, Monticello, 1996, and P. J. Swartz, Slavery at the Home of George Washington, Mount Vernon, 2001.
7 For capture and punishment of runaways see Revolutionary Virginia, Vol. VI, p.305, p. 485 and Vol. VII, part one, p. 284.
8 For Moseley and Willoughby see Revolutionary Virginia Vol V, p.141, 142, 207; for Cunningham see Revolutionary Virginia Vol V, p. 361, 408; and Purdie's Virginia Gazette, 19 January 1776; for John Moseley see Book of Negroes PRO33/55/100.
9 For forced removal see Revolutionary Virginia, Vol. V pp. 369-71; Willoughby petition, Journal of the House of Delegates of the Commonwealth of Virginia, Richmond 1827, p. 55; for sale to the West Indies see Revolutionary Virginia, Vol VI, p. 425.
10 Moses Wilkinson's details are in the Book of Negroes. Black Methodist preachers were not unknown in Tidewater Virginia at the time. Harry Hosier, a black man, travelled and preached with itinerant preachers in Virginia during and after the revolution.
11 For an analysis of fugitive slaves in Virginia prior to 1775 see L. Windley, A Profile of Runaway Slaves in Virginia and South Carolina from 1730 through 1787, New York, 1995, pp. 162-4. For details of the Moseley individuals see the Book of Negroes PRO 30/55/100. For reproduced list for Willoughby's runaways, see W. Holton Forced Founders: Indians, Debtors, Slaves, and the Making of the American Revolution in Virginia, Chapel Hill, 1999, p. 157.m
12 For background on the smallpox epidemic see E. Fenn, Pox Americana: The Great Smallpox Epidemic of 1775-82, New York, 2001 and Phillip Ranlet, 'The British, Slaves, and Smallpox in Revolutionary Virginia', Journal of Negro History, Vol. 84, 1999, pp.218; Dunmore to Germain, 30 March, 1776, CO5/1373.
13 Purdie's Virginia Gazette, 31 May 1776; Dunmore quoted in W.B. Clarke (ed), Naval Documents of the American Revolution, Vol 5, United States Printing Office, Washington 1970, p. 669; Dunmore to Germain, 26 June 1776, CO5/1373; Narrative of Andrew Snape Hammond in Clarke op. cit., Naval Documents of the American Revolution, Vol 5, p. 1079.
14 Fenn, pp 60-1; CO5/1353; Narrative of Andrew Snape Hammond, Naval Documents of the American Revolution, Vol. 5, p. 1079; Dunmore to Germain, 4 September 1776, CO5/1353.
15 For housing and employment in New York see E. G. Wilson, The Loyal Blacks, New York, 1976, p 64 and PRO30/55/84; and Wray Papers, Vol 7, University of Michigan. For HMS Loyalist, see ADM36/8202.
16 Baurmeister, June 17, 1783, Confidential letters and Journals, 569. "Memoirs of the Life of Boston King", 157.
17 Carelton to North April 14, and enclosures CO 5/8; CO 5/109. Carleton's orders, April 15, 1783, PRO 30/55/103.
18 Substance of a Conference between General Washington and Sir Guy Carleton, 6 May 1783, Washington to Harrison, 6 May 1783, in J. C. Fitzpatrick (ed), The Writings of George Washington, Vol. 26, Washington, 1937, pp. 402-14.
19 OBSP 1784-5, p. 532.
20 Parish records for St Marylebone, London Metropolitan Records Office.
21 For accounts of the debacle, Miles to Germain, July 8, 1782, CO 267/20; Miles to the African Committee, February 1, 1783, T70/33, NA.
22 Roberts to Ross, December 1784, HO 42/5/465-9, NA.
23 Sydney to Africa Company, December 21, HO 43/1/355; Calvert to Treasury, January 15, 1785. See also HO 42/6/36; HO 42/6/ 4370; T70/69; T70/145. The documentation indicates that twenty convicts were on the Recovery, but two more (possibly women) added at the last moment.
24 For Richard Bradley's mission, Journal of the House o Commons, vol. 43, 411, (herafafter C J) re £457/10/6 to Bradley per Thomas Cotton. For Camden, Calvert and King, T1/614. Draft order, T1/624.
25 Campbell Letterbooks, April 2, 1785, A3229, Mitchell Library of NSW (hereafter ML).
26 'Minutes of the House of Commons respecting a plan for transporting felons to the island of Lemaine in the River Gambia', HO7/1; Duncan Campbell Letterbooks, Mitchell Library; Ceres lists, T1/637.
27 Burke from Cobbett's Parliamentary History of England from the earliest period to the year 1803, London, 1806-1820, Vol. 25, p. 430.
28 'Minutes of the House of Commons', HO7/1.
29 Sydney to Lords of Treasury 18 August 1786, T1/369.
30 W. Bradley, A Voyage to New South Wales: the Journal of Lieutenant, William Bradley RN of HMS Sirius, 1786-1792, Sydney, 1969, p. 62.
31 NSW Muster, 1822, A15241; NSW Muster, 1825, 33618; NSW Muster, 1828, M3314.