For old maps of Africa, I studied the Historical Atlas of Africa by J. F. Ade Ajayi and Michael Crowder; Blaeu's The Grand Atlas of the 17th Century World by John Goss; and Norwich's Maps of Africa: An Illustrated and Annotated Carto-bibliography, revised and edited by Jeffrey C. Stone.
For information about slave vessels and life on board eighteenth-century ships, I looked carefully at Scurvy: How a Surgeon, a Mariner, and a Gentleman Solved the Greatest Medical Mystery of the Age of Sail by Stephen R. Bown; Slave Ships and Slaving compiled by George Francis Dow; The Wooden World: An Anatomy of the Georgian Navy by N. A. M. Rodger; and in The Journal for Maritime Research, Jane Webster's article "Looking for the Material Culture of the Middle Passage."
A number of books introduced me to the history of South Carolina— particularly the history of black people in Sea Islands and in Charleston (or Charles Town, as it was spelled before the American Revolution). Some were: Slave Badges and the Slave-Hire System in Charleston, South Carolina, 1783–1865 by Harlan Greene, Harry S. Hutchins, Jr., and Brian E. Hutchins; Charleston in the Age of the Pinckneys by George C. Rogers, Jr.; and A Short History of Charleston by Robert N. Rosen.
The literature on the history of South Carolina is vast, but some books of great help to me were Slave Counterpoint: Black Culture in the Eighteenth-Century Chesapeake and Low Country by Philip Morgan and Africanisms in the Gullah Dialect by Lorenzo Dow Turner. I also read Pox Americana: The Great Smallpox Epidemic of 1775–82 by Elizabeth A. Fenn; Masters, Slaves, and Subjects: The Culture of Power in the South Carolina Low Country, 1740–1790 by Robert Olwell; and Black Majority: Negroes in Colonial South Carolina from 1670 Through the Stono Rebellion by Peter Woods. Other helpful books were Reminiscences of Sea Island Heritage: Legacy of Freedmen on St. Helena Island by Ronald Daise; Gullah Fuh Ooonuh (Gullah For You): A Guide to the Gullah Language by Virginia Mixson Geraty; and The Gullah People and Their African Heritage by William S. Pollitzer.
I also came across articles and books about slave hair and clothing. Shane White and Graham White wrote Stylin': African American Expressive Culture from Its Beginnings to the Zoot Suit, as well as the article "Slave Hair and African American Culture in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries," which appeared in the Journal of Southern History. In the Journal of American History, Jonathan Prude wrote "To Look upon the 'Lower Sort': Runaway Ads and the Appearance of Unfree Laborers in America, 1750–1800."
I drew additional information about South Carolina history and details about indigo from South Carolina: A History by Walter Edgar; The History of Beaufort County, South Carolina, Volume 1, 1514–1861 by Lawrence S. Rowland, Alexander Moore and George C. Rogers, Jr.; and the booklet "Indigo in America" produced by BASF Wyandotte Corporation.
Two books offered herbal remedies and details about the care of pregnant women in the South: Hoodoo Medicine: Gullah Herbal Remedies by Faith Mitchell and Southern Folk Medicine 1750–1820 by Kay K. Moss.
Various books describe Jews in South Carolina in the eighteenth century. Among others, I relied on This Happy Land: The Jews of Colonial and Antebellum Charleston by James William Hagy; The Jews of South Carolina Prior to 1800 by Cyrus Adler Hühner; and A Portion of the People: Three Hundred Years of Southern Jewish Life edited by Theodore Rosengarten and Dale Rosengarten.
For details about New York City in the eighteenth century, I consulted New York Burning: Liberty, Slavery, and Conspiracy in Eighteenth-Century Manhattan by Jill Lepore; The Epic of New York City by Edward Robb Ellis; The Battle for New York: The City at the Heart of the American Revolution by Barnet Schecter; Gotham: A History of New York City to 1898 by Edwin Burrows and Mike Wallace; The Loyal Blacks by Ellen Gibson Wilson; and Somewhat More Independent: The End of Slavery in New York City, 1770–1810 by Shane White. To learn about the African Burial Ground in Manhattan, I read "Historic Background of the African Burial Ground," a chapter in the Draft Management Recommendations for the African Burial Ground, produced by the United States National Park Service.
As for the lives of the Black Loyalists in Nova Scotia, I read King's Bounty: A History of Early Shelburne, Nova Scotia, by Marion Robertson; The Life of Boston King: Black Loyalist, Minister and Master Carpenter edited by Ruth Holmes Whitehead and Carmelita A. M. Robertson and the Nova Scotia Museum curatorial report "The Shelburne Black Loyalists: A Short Bibliography of All Blacks Emigrating to Shelburne County, Nova Scotia after the American Revolution, 1783," by Ruth Holmes Whitehead.
To learn about the abolitionist movement in Britain and to imagine the lives of blacks in London at the turn of the nineteenth century, I consulted Hogarth's Blacks: Images of Blacks in Eighteenth-Century English Art by David Dabydeen; Staying Power: The History of Black People in Britain by Peter Fryer; Black England: Life Before Emancipation by Gretchen Gerzina; Bury the Chains: Prophets and Rebels in the Fight to Free an Empire's Slaves by Adam Hoshschild; and Reconstructing the Black Past: Blacks in Britain, 1780–1830 by Norma Myers.
I could never have written The Book of Negroes without the work of all the diarists, memoir writers and historians who went before me, but I alone am responsible for any intentional or accidental deviations from history in this novel.
Acknowledgments
I CAN'T BEGIN TO ACKNOWLEDGE ALL OF THE PEOPLE—some living, and others who wrote diaries, travel accounts and slave narratives more than two hundred years ago—on whose shoulders I climbed to write The Book of Negroes. But I do wish to thank the people, books and institutions that helped me the most.
I came across the idea for The Book of Negroes while reading a book that I had stolen, so I will begin by acknowledging what I took and where I found it. The book was The Black Loyalists: The Search for a Promised Land in Nova Scotia and Sierra Leone, 1783–1870, and the author was James W. St. G. Walker, a history professor at the University of Waterloo in Ontario. I took it from the Toronto home of my parents, Donna Hill and Daniel G. Hill. Dad scribbled his name inside the front cover before I went out the door, but it did him no good, because that was twenty years ago and I still have the book.
Dr. Walker was a good friend to my father and mother—they all wrote books about the history of blacks in Canada—and later he became a friend and steady adviser to me, as well. He answered numerous questions as I researched The Book of Negroes, introduced me to other scholars and commented on an early draft.
Out of respect for Dr. Walker and all of the other scholars who advised me, I must emphasize that any historical inaccuracies in this novel—intentional or otherwise—are my responsibility and mine only.
Paul E. Lovejoy, Distinguished Research Professor in the Department of History at York University and author of Transformations in Slavery: A History of Slavery in Africa and many other books, shared with me some of his scholarly articles dealing with scarification, enslavement and Muslims in West Africa. Dr. Lovejoy commented on scenes set in Africa, suggested other books and articles, and provided details about British parliamentary hearings into the abolition of the slave trade.
Valentin Vydrine, author of the Manding–English Dictionary and head of the African Department, St. Petersburg Museum of Anthropology and Ethnography, answered many questions to do with languages and ethnic groups in the West African country now known as Mali.
Gordon Laco, a ship expert who acts as a consultant to filmmakers, was kind enough to offer advice for the novel, as was my friend Chris Ralph, who has spent years working on ships performing scientific missions.
Nicholas Butler, Special Collections Manager of the Charleston County Public Library, suggested and helped me find many books and articles about colonial Charleston. Dr. Butler took the trouble to send me a good dozen letters, assisting—and correcting—me on matters such as identification tags worn by slaves, travel by small craft in the low-country waterways, the Gullah language, coin usage, slave clothing, slave auctions, street life and so forth. He must have answered one hundred questions, and every one patiently and kindly.
I wish to acknowledge ass
istance from the Penn Center on St. Helena Island. Located on the site of one of the first schools for freed American slaves, the Penn Center is a museum and cultural centre exploring the history and culture of Gullah people in the Sea Islands. Staff at the Penn Centre introduced me to the video Family Across the Sea produced by South Carolina ET V, which documents the connection between the Gullah people and their ancestors in Sierra Leone.
Throughout revisions of the novel, I was lucky to have a steady stream of advice, encouragement and corrections from Ruth Holmes Whitehead, Curator Emerita of the Nova Scotia Museum, and Co-curator of its virtual exhibit Remembering Black Loyalists, Black Communities in Nova Scotia. Dr. Whitehead has spent the past ten years researching a forthcoming book on the Black Loyalists of South Carolina.
Cassandra Pybus, Australian Research Council Professor of History at the University of Sydney and author of Epic Journeys of Freedom: Runaway Slaves of the American Revolution and Their Global Quest for Liberty, answered my questions about blacks in Manhattan in the eighteenth century and led me to scholarly articles.
In Nova Scotia, Elizabeth Cromwell and Debra Hill of the Black Loyalist Heritage Society gave me access to their resource centre in Shelburne and introduced me to descendants of Loyalists, and Debra Hill took me on a walking tour in the old black settlement of Birchtown on the south shore of Nova Scotia. In my endeavours to learn more about the Black Loyalists and their first ten years in Nova Scotia, I was also assisted by Henry Bishop of the Black Cultural Centre for Nova Scotia, who gave me a copy of John Clarkson's journal Clarkson's Mission to America 1791–1792, and by Finn Bower, Doris Swain and Betty Stoddard in the Shelburne County Museum, who steered me to numerous books and old newspaper clippings.
David Bergeron and Sophie Drakich, curators of the Currency Museum of the Bank of Canada, shared reference texts and answered my questions about eighteenth-century coins and other media of exchange—both African and European—and Yann Girard gave me a personal tour of the museum.
Librarians working in the University of Toronto Robarts Library led me to atlases, maps and other references. Staff at the Burlington Public Library helped me find scholarly articles about the living conditions of slaves in South Carolina.
I wish to thank the Canada Council and the Ontario Arts Council for their financial assistance.
I thank my literary agents, Dean Cooke (in Canada) and Denise Bukowski (international markets), for supporting this novel and bringing it to market with both enthusiasm and professionalism.
I am grateful to my editor, Iris Tupholme, and all of her wonderful colleagues at HarperCollins Canada. Iris wanted this novel before it was written, waited patiently for the first draft, advised me on revisions and— in her notes and our conversations—always found a way to be both exacting and encouraging. I also wish to thank Lorissa Sengara for additional editorial advice and Allyson Latta for her diligent work as copy editor.
Many friends helped me in this long project. Agnès Van't Bosch prompted me nearly thirty years ago to begin a series of trips to West African countries as a volunteer with Canadian Crossroads International. A walking encyclopedia of knowledge about African cultures, languages and books, Agnès made suggestions about the novel and gave me a place to write in solitude. Charles Tysoe read early drafts, made suggestions about religious matters, directed me to helpful books and planted an idea that led me to write the chapter "Nations Not So Blest as Thee." Jack Veugelers, an old friend and a sociology professor at the University of Toronto, brought scholarly articles to my attention and expressed belief in the book throughout its long gestation. Judith Major, Rosalyn Krieger and Sandra Hardie advised me on early drafts. Barbara and John McCowan, Deborah Windsor and Ray Argyle, Michael and Cara Peterman, Laura Robinson and John Cameron, Conny Steenman-Marcusse and Al and Mary Lou Keith offered me keys to their homes—all well stocked with food, coffee and good writing chairs—so that I could work for long periods of time in solitude. Randy Weir shared with me his extensive knowledge and collection of books about eighteenth-century coins in the British colonies, and Peter Haase helped with details about traditional printing presses. The novelist Lauren B. Davis and her husband Ron Davis offered perspective and personal encouragement as this story was settling into its final form.
And now I come to my family. This is the first book I've written without advice from my father, Daniel G. Hill. He died before I had made much headway on the novel, but his love of story and passion for history inspired me to keep at it. My mother, Donna Hill, was finally able to offer her own insights into one of my books without fending off interruptions from her beloved husband. Sandy Hawkins, my mother-in-law, assisted me with proofreading and a considerable amount of research. Sandy and my father-in-law, William Hawkins, helped look after my children when I was writing and let me use their house for long spells of concentrated work. My sister, Karen Hill, also helped with research, and she and my brother, Dan Hill, read drafts and offered suggestions. The first person to offer comments on the initial draft of the novel was my stepdaughter Evie Freedman, who, by the age of ten, had already read more books than most adults in her life—myself included. Evie encouraged me to fill in the story about Aminata's childhood in Bayo, and I followed her advice. Geneviève Hill, my eldest child and an enthusiastic reader in her own right, commented on a later draft.
In this loving madhouse we call home, my other children—Beatrice Freedman, and Andrew and Caroline Hill—not only endured my disappearances into The Book of Negroes, but also proved to be terrific listeners and conversationalists around the dinner table. I admire the energy that all of my children bring to the business of living, and hope that my own passions have inspired them.
I would not have found the strength, courage, and time to complete this novel without loving assistance on every front from my wife, Miranda Hill. Spending years inside one's own head—with no guarantee of emerging with a finished book—can be a lonely way to live. Miranda was the one person with whom I could speak at all times about where the book was moving—forward, backward, sideways or nowhere at all. She told me she loved me every day of every year that I gave to the novel, and fed and cared for the children and me while I pounded away on the keyboard. When I was ready to share my drafts, Miranda made practical suggestions on every page. Miranda was my first editor, my first critic, my biggest supporter and my great woman . . . so I thank her with everything I have.
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