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Authors: Marcus Rediker
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surrounded by coastal forest. Nearby are three more buildings and alarger rectangle denoted as the “Castle,” which was the fortified centerpiece of the slaving operation. On the south side of the Gallinas, at the mouth, is another cleared area with three buildings labeled “Pedro Blanco’s House.” 64 Because Blanco worked for the infamous Havana-based House of Martinez, one of the biggest slave trading operations in the world in 1839, above the factory buildings he flew white flags emblazoned with the letter M. Blanco’s chain of forts stretched 150 miles over the Windward Coast, which enabled him to shift slaves from one place to another according to the policing practices of the British Royal Navy. His international network was even larger: he had connections in London, Liverpool, Manchester, Havana, Puerto Rico, Trinidad, Texas, New Orleans, and Freetown (to buy back condemned vessels). 65
Pedro Blanco—tall and slender, clean-shaven, “with small, black, piercing eyes,” a dark complexion, and “an easy gentlemanly deportment”—had arrived in Africa as a bankrupt, it was rumored, in 1824 or 1825 and began to build business operations and create local alliances that would soon make him the most powerful man on the coast. Determined to rebuild his “shattered fortunes,” he initially organized a slaving voyage from the area and accompanied the ship to Cuba. Success allowed him to return to the Gallinas, settle, and expand operations. He “opened an extensive correspondence, received consignments of vessels and cargoes, and loaded and despatched cargoes.” His run of good fortune continued, and he slowly built a small empire that linked African kings (notably Siaka) and a cadre of European adventurers much like himself, to the House of Martinez. Gallinas “soon became, not only the centre of an extensive and lucrative traffic, but the theatre of a new order of society and a novel form of government, of all of which his excellency, Don Pedro Blanco, was the head, the autocrat.” By the early 1830s, “his authority was absolute, acquired and maintained, not by his wealth alone, but by his will, energy, ability and address; for Pedro Blanco was no common man. He was a well-born, high-bred, Spanish gentleman, and in all save his profession, a man of honor—yea, of strict integrity, whose word was his bond.” 66
Living, as one visitor said, as a combination of European gentleman and African king, with a “seraglio of wives” for each part, Blanco became the stuff of legend. A story that circulated along the coast concerned a trip he made to Sherbro, where he was, at that time, unknown. He “approached the hut of a native with a view of taking rest and refreshment,” and soon asked for fire with which to light his Cuban cigar. When the man “bluntly refused,” Blanco took a gun from one of his attendants “and shot him dead upon the spot.” This man of “strict integrity”—and extreme violence—would not tolerate such an insult to his aristocratic sense of honor. 67
The illegality of the slave trade, and the British patrol vessels that scoured the coast trying to enforce the law, made Blanco’s business secretive, dangerous, and urgent. Blanco had his own African (Kru) canoemen paddling up and down the coast, and as far as forty miles out to sea, to gather intelligence. “Watch-boxes,” or lookout posts, were built into the towering cottonwood trees. Here his employees, shielded from the sun and rain, scanned the ocean with telescopes to discern the comings and goings of slave ships and anti-slave-trade patrols. Captains who wanted to bring their vessels ashore to load signaled with lights to the lookouts, who responded in kind. One light meant the coast was clear. Two lights conveyed, proceed with caution. Three lights, flashing, indicated danger. The ultimate signal to stay away was a bonfire, into which were thrown bags of gunpowder, producing explosions that could be seen twenty miles
Pedro Blanco—tall and slender, clean-shaven, “with small, black, piercing eyes,” a dark complexion, and “an easy gentlemanly deportment”—had arrived in Africa as a bankrupt, it was rumored, in 1824 or 1825 and began to build business operations and create local alliances that would soon make him the most powerful man on the coast. Determined to rebuild his “shattered fortunes,” he initially organized a slaving voyage from the area and accompanied the ship to Cuba. Success allowed him to return to the Gallinas, settle, and expand operations. He “opened an extensive correspondence, received consignments of vessels and cargoes, and loaded and despatched cargoes.” His run of good fortune continued, and he slowly built a small empire that linked African kings (notably Siaka) and a cadre of European adventurers much like himself, to the House of Martinez. Gallinas “soon became, not only the centre of an extensive and lucrative traffic, but the theatre of a new order of society and a novel form of government, of all of which his excellency, Don Pedro Blanco, was the head, the autocrat.” By the early 1830s, “his authority was absolute, acquired and maintained, not by his wealth alone, but by his will, energy, ability and address; for Pedro Blanco was no common man. He was a well-born, high-bred, Spanish gentleman, and in all save his profession, a man of honor—yea, of strict integrity, whose word was his bond.” 66
Living, as one visitor said, as a combination of European gentleman and African king, with a “seraglio of wives” for each part, Blanco became the stuff of legend. A story that circulated along the coast concerned a trip he made to Sherbro, where he was, at that time, unknown. He “approached the hut of a native with a view of taking rest and refreshment,” and soon asked for fire with which to light his Cuban cigar. When the man “bluntly refused,” Blanco took a gun from one of his attendants “and shot him dead upon the spot.” This man of “strict integrity”—and extreme violence—would not tolerate such an insult to his aristocratic sense of honor. 67
The illegality of the slave trade, and the British patrol vessels that scoured the coast trying to enforce the law, made Blanco’s business secretive, dangerous, and urgent. Blanco had his own African (Kru) canoemen paddling up and down the coast, and as far as forty miles out to sea, to gather intelligence. “Watch-boxes,” or lookout posts, were built into the towering cottonwood trees. Here his employees, shielded from the sun and rain, scanned the ocean with telescopes to discern the comings and goings of slave ships and anti-slave-trade patrols. Captains who wanted to bring their vessels ashore to load signaled with lights to the lookouts, who responded in kind. One light meant the coast was clear. Two lights conveyed, proceed with caution. Three lights, flashing, indicated danger. The ultimate signal to stay away was a bonfire, into which were thrown bags of gunpowder, producing explosions that could be seen twenty miles
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