Skip to main content Accessibility help
×
Hostname: page-component-cb9f654ff-lqqdg Total loading time: 0 Render date: 2025-08-08T00:01:59.231Z Has data issue: false hasContentIssue false

4 - Fevers

Disease, Race, and Slavery

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  19 December 2024

Justin Roberts
Affiliation:
Dalhousie University, Nova Scotia

Summary

This chapter explores how the evolving disease environments of the tropics shaped free and forced migration patterns at English sites. The globalization of forced labor markets and trade were catalysts in the spread of yellow fever and falciparum malaria, diseases that originated in Africa and that disproportionately weakened or killed English migrants to the tropics. These were the two deadliest mosquito-borne fevers that the English encountered in the tropics. The ways in which the English understood and responded to evolving tropical disease environments and their differential effects on European and non-European populations contributed to the rise of enslaved majorities in the tropics and informed ideas about human difference that would coalesce into nineteenth-century racism. The chapter will also show how epidemiology made English footholds in the tropics much more precarious and dependent on non-Europeans than the English footholds in other more temperate zones of the empire. The chapter relies on case studies of disease outbreaks in the Caribbean, on the West African Gold Coast, and in Sumatra at key points in the seventeenth century.

Information

Type
Chapter
Information
Fragile Empire
Slavery in the Early English Tropics, 1645–1720
, pp. 166 - 203
Publisher: Cambridge University Press
Print publication year: 2025

4 Fevers Disease, Race, and Slavery

The tropics proved to be a charnel house for the English, especially for newcomers and especially in new settlements. In 1660, three years after the East India Company (EIC) gained control of Fort Cormantine in West Africa, the agents and factors sent to the EIC directors a long “List of Men” who had died at the fort, complaining about the “Violent Sicknesse and great mortallyty” there.Footnote 1 Likewise, a flourishing new English sugar colony in Surinam was nearly wiped out in the mid-1660s, fifteen years after it was settled, by “a raging Contagion & wasting sickness.”Footnote 2 Alexander Hamilton, a ship captain who sailed through in the East Indies from 1688 to 1723, described the notoriously unhealthy conditions in early Bombay after the English had gained control in the 1660s: “as fast as Recruits came from Britain, they died in Bombay, which got the island a bad Name.”Footnote 3 By the 1680s, physicians such as Thomas Tryon were lamenting the “short Lives of our English that travel into hot Countries.”Footnote 4 “Fevers” and “agues” played an important role in shaping both English perceptions of the torrid zone and the nature of their ventures in that zone. As the overseas empire grew, rumors about tropical fevers spread by sailors and travelers in port towns, taverns, and coffee shops likely amplified the growing fear of the torrid zone.

The English had reason to fear the torrid zones because people born in tropical disease environments survived better in the tropics than European newcomers. People from the tropics had developed both inherited and acquired resistance to pathogens and parasites that were endemic in their environments.Footnote 5 Although people from the tropics suffered through many debilitating illnesses and endured a very short life span while enslaved, they generally had more acquired resistance and immunity than European newcomers to two particularly deadly and feverish diseases that flourished in the tropics: yellow fever in the Atlantic Ocean, and malaria in both the Atlantic and Indian oceans. Many, but certainly not all, groups of people from the tropics suffered less from mortality and morbidity from yellow fever and malaria, making them capable of greater overall labor productivity in places in which malaria and yellow fever became endemic.Footnote 6 People born in West Africa demonstrated particularly strong resistance to the effects of both yellow fever and malaria. As this became increasingly clear, it bolstered emerging English convictions about the innate suitability of non-European bodies and particularly African bodies for tropical labor. The high death rates for European newcomers ultimately discouraged English migration to the English tropics. The globalization of trade and forced labor markets facilitated the more rapid spread of pathogens and parasites. Malaria particularly falciparum malaria − became more common in many areas of the global tropics, while yellow fever epidemics became more prevalent in the Americas, particularly in the Caribbean. Malaria and yellow fever shaped forced and free migration through the tropics. People from the British Isles could choose to avoid migrating to areas with reputations for deadly fevers. The enslaved had no choice.

An earlier generation of scholars made overly deterministic claims about disease and the spread of racial slavery.Footnote 7 This chapter will avoid that kind of biological determinism and instead show the interplay between a complex and evolving set of epidemiological factors on the one hand and on the other hand the day-to-day choices made by English planters and merchants on the ground in the tropics. This chapter will show that English newcomers proved especially susceptible to malaria and yellow fever. Dengue, which eventually spread through the Atlantic and Indian oceans, almost certainly played a role in this feverish mosquito-borne disease cocktail in the tropics. This chapter, however, will focus on yellow fever and malaria, which are much more lethal if left untreated than dengue. The English became fearful of the effects of the lethal fevers they observed in hot climates. English efforts to rationalize organic processes that they failed to understand along with the choice that many migrants from the British Isles made to avoid the tropics led to a more widespread adoption of slavery. The chapter will also highlight the ways in which disease made English sites in the tropics more precarious, and it will explore how the English responded to that fragility.

This chapter will begin with a case study of the first yellow fever epidemic in Barbados from 1647 to 1652, an epidemic that proved to be a catalyst in the rise of racial slavery in the Caribbean. Then it will proceed to case studies of the effects of feverish epidemics at English colonial ventures from the mid-1680s through the end of the 1690s in the Caribbean sugar islands and at the same time in English factories on the Gold Coast and in Sumatra. These case studies will show how disease could substantially weaken English power in the tropics and force the English to rely more on others to build their tropical empire. As other chapters in this book demonstrate, the 1680s and 1690s were a period in which the English fear of slave insurrection and foreign invasion intensified. This was the point at which the English made a deeper commitment across the empire to one particularly inflexible and brutal variant of racial slavery.

Mosquitos and Fevers

The mosquito was the grim reaper for many newcomers to the tropics. Aedes aegypti, a species with African origins that feeds on people, was the vector for yellow fever.Footnote 8 This species of mosquito breeds in stagnant water in small reservoirs – either natural or man-made – and flourishes at temperatures between 27°C and 31°C. They have a limited flight range from their water source for feeding, meaning that yellow fever will usually only spread near dense populations of people.Footnote 9 Malaria was transmitted by mosquitos of the Anopheles genus. Anopheles flourish near low-lying swamps and marshes, their breeding grounds. They are most dangerous to people at temperatures between 18°C and 32°C.Footnote 10 Europeans knew that swamps and marshes were deadly places but blamed the swamps‘ miasmas – what they understood to be noxious or poisonous fumes – rather than the swamps’ mosquitos.Footnote 11 The threat posed by both Anopheles and Aedes mosquitos was highest during and immediately after the rainy season.

Yellow fever (a virus) and malaria (six different kinds of a parasite) had strikingly different effects on their hosts. Young adults are most susceptible to yellow fever’s deleterious physical effects.Footnote 12 In most settings, yellow fever spares children while malaria targets them. This pattern is particularly the case when the adult population has already had significant exposure to malaria. While survivors of yellow fever develop complete immunity, survivors of malaria do not. They develop resistance to future infection but are still vulnerable to new strains. Antibodies to the yellow fever virus remain in the body for a lifetime but some malarial parasites can lie dormant and cause relapses. Survivors of untreated malaria can suffer from poor health and bouts of sickness for months or even years after the initial onset when the dormant parasite reactivates, weakening the capacity of human hosts for hard labor. Repeated exposure to malaria, however, confers some immunological resistance against future attacks.Footnote 13

Both malaria and yellow fever originated in tropical sub-Saharan Africa and spread outward with trade and the globalization of forced labor markets.Footnote 14 By the eighteenth century, yellow fever had spread to urban centers in the northern hemisphere as far north as Quebec City, while malarial strains moved throughout the early modern era through the warmer regions of the Americas and through Africa and South Asia and as far north into Europe as Scandinavia.Footnote 15 There is no evidence that yellow fever was exported to Asia until the twenty-first century, perhaps because acquired immunity to dengue fever a member of the same disease family as yellow fever and more prevalent in Asia conferred protection from yellow fever.Footnote 16 In contrast, dengue, which existed through much of tropical Asia, does not appear to have become widespread in the Caribbean until the late eighteenth century.Footnote 17 Malaria remained the most deadly mosquito-borne fever in tropical Asia in the early modern era.

Although yellow fever and malaria spread at times into the more temperate zones of the northern hemisphere, these diseases were most prevalent and most lethal in tropical zones. Aedes aegypti, the vector for yellow fever, will not feed below 17°C, and the species hibernates if the weather stays cold.Footnote 18 Likewise, outbreaks of malaria in temperate zones were normally caused by the vivax malaria parasite, and they were nowhere near as disastrous to human health as they were in the tropics.Footnote 19 Vivax plagued the Chesapeake in the first half of the seventeenth century, likely brought there by European migrants.Footnote 20 Falciparum malaria, the most lethal of the malaria parasites, was found only in the tropical and subtropical zones. Falciparum stops spreading below 19°C.Footnote 21 Whereas untreated vivax has a mortality rate of less than 5 percent, the mortality rate in untreated falciparum infections usually exceeds 20 percent.Footnote 22 Falciparum malaria may have been responsible for as much as 90 percent of all malarial infections in West Africa in the seventeenth century.Footnote 23

Outside of Africa, the balance of falciparum and vivax parasites in the tropics is in rough equilibrium in the twenty-first century, but there may be more falciparum now then there was before a rapid rise in forced migration from Africa in the seventeenth century.Footnote 24 The growth of the African slave trade in the Atlantic drove the spread of falciparum parasites and yellow fever through much of the Caribbean in the 1650s. The colder months in most of the southern colonies of North America limited the transmission and impact of falciparum, but it became prevalent in South Carolina after the 1680s, arriving again with an increase in African captives.Footnote 25 Falciparum had spread through the Indian Ocean as early as 1000 CE, but it became most prevalent in the early modern era in places that received the most enslaved Africans in the slave trade.Footnote 26 The extensive Dutch involvement in human trafficking in Indonesia in the seventeenth century likely helped to facilitate the spread of malaria through the region. It appears to have spread through Dutch Batavia by the early eighteenth century, and, as this chapter will show, it likely took hold by the end of the seventeenth century in Sumatra.Footnote 27 Contemporaries observed that “many hundreds [of] Dutch dyed at their Settlement at Padang” in Sumatra in the 1680s. Falciparum malaria may well have been the culprit.Footnote 28 The Dutch brought many slaves from Madagascar to work in the gold mines in West Sumatra from 1670 through 1696, a higher proportion than they took to other sites.Footnote 29 Malaria had not yet penetrated the highlands of Madagascar, but it was endemic enough along the coastal lowlands.Footnote 30

Disease environments are generally most dangerous for people who have been raised and whose ancestors had been raised without any need to adapt to those environments. People from sub-Saharan Africa, where yellow fever and malaria were holoendemic, were least likely to succumb to diseases that abounded in the tropics. They had developed resistance to malaria and immunity to yellow fever. They had also developed their own medicinal strategies for preventing and treating malaria.Footnote 31 Some of the protection against malaria was inherited, extending to people of African descent born outside of Africa. There may also have been some inherited protection against yellow fever, but the evidence suggests that this is much less likely.Footnote 32 Europeans migrants to the tropics were particularly vulnerable until their immune systems had become conditioned to yellow fever and malaria. Parasitic infections such as hookworm and schistosomasis also plagued people living in the tropics, and smallpox although it claimed the lives of people in all climates added to the death toll in the tropics.Footnote 33 Across the global tropics, from the sugar islands to the spice islands, between 35 and 80 percent of European newcomers died in their first year. The death rates were highest in West Africa.Footnote 34

Because both yellow fever and falciparum malaria were holendemic in sub-Saharan West Africa, the English factories on the coast became a graveyard for white men; it was the worst place for the English to travel in the tropics, but Southeast Asia and the Caribbean were still much deadlier for the English than staying at home.Footnote 35 The quantitative evidence for the seventeenth and early eighteenth century is too sparse for precise quantitative analysis of mortality rates, but more comprehensive evidence survives for European soldiers who traveled through the early nineteenth-century tropics. Rates in the late seventeenth century may have been higher because there was less immunological resistance among Europeans to the disease environment.Footnote 36 In the early nineteenth-century British Isles, the annual death rate for soldiers was only fifteen per thousand. That rose substantially throughout the tropical empire.Footnote 37 Along the Gold Coast, British Soldiers at Cape Coast in 1823 and 1826 died at the startling rate of 668 per thousand.Footnote 38 The environment in Sierra Leone was only slightly more conducive to survival. Soldiers there died at a rate of 483 per thousand. Myanmar was the healthiest place for the British in nineteenth-century Southeast Asia, and solders there still died at two to three times the rate that they did at home (forty-five per thousand compared to fifteen per thousand).Footnote 39 The disease environment in the spice islands appears to have been much deadlier for Europeans than elsewhere in Southeast Asia. At the Dutch outposts in the early-nineteenth-century Indonesian islands – principally in Java, Sumatra, and the Moluccas at that point – soldiers died at a rate of 170 per thousand each year. This was 2.4 times greater than the death rates of British soldiers in Sri Lanka, the deadliest environment for the British in India.Footnote 40 None of the European sites in the nineteenth-century Indian Ocean approached the level of mortality among Dutch factories in Indonesia. The death rates in the Caribbean were greater than in Southeast Asia as a whole, particularly in the Greater Antilles. British soldiers in Jamaica died at an annual rate of 130 per thousand, nearly approaching the death rates of Europeans in the Indonesian archipelago. Barbados and the rest of the Lesser Antilles islands were healthy by Caribbean standards, likely because there were no Anopheles mosquitos in Barbados, so malaria was never endemic there.Footnote 41 Soldiers in these smaller English Caribbean islands died at an annual rate of eighty-five per thousand in the nineteenth century – still almost six times the rate they did at home.Footnote 42 Barbados appears to have been an even healthier place before the arrival of yellow fever in 1647.

The “Barbados Distemper,” 1647–1652

Richard Ligon arrived in Barbados in 1647 at the beginning of the first yellow fever epidemic in the Americas. Falling sick himself, he called it a “plague, (or as killing a disease).”Footnote 43 The “power and Tyranny” of this “Fever” spread through his own body, leaving him on death’s door “without any appearance of life.” His “relapses [were] so frequent” that they left him weak in mind and body. When he was well enough, he found a ship returning home to escape the toxic atmosphere of the torrid zone, risking imprisonment in the middle of England’s political turmoil.Footnote 44 Ligon survived his ordeal, but many more European migrants were less fortunate. Disease consumed the island until 1652 so that the “living were hardly able to bury the dead.”Footnote 45 There were 30,000 to 45,000 whites in Barbados in 1647, significantly outnumbering the 10,000 to 12,000 enslaved blacks.Footnote 46 Between 6,000 and 10,000 whites died during the five-year epidemic. There are no estimates of death among the enslaved black population, but the disease appears to have had far less impact among blacks than it did among whites.Footnote 47 Yellow fever epidemics spread through the British and French islands of the Lesser Antilles and then into Spanish territories in Cuba and the Yucatán, causing what anxious English colonists labeled a “great depopulation.”Footnote 48 What Ligon could not have appreciated is that what he experienced on a personal level was part of a crucial period of economic and social transition. The arrival of yellow fever in Barbados in 1647 was a hinge point in the development of racial slavery in England’s overseas empire.

The yellow fever epidemic of 1647–1652, coming on the heels of the initial transition to sugar economies in the Lesser Antilles, marked an “Africanization” of the Caribbean disease environment.Footnote 49 In 1658, after the epidemic subsided, César de Rochefort, who wrote a natural history of the Caribbean, observed that “the plague heretofore was not known” in the Caribbean “no more than it was in China, and some other places of the East. But some years since most of these Islands were much troubled with Malignant fevers, which the Physicians held to be contagious.” Where had this plague come from? The “corruption of the Air” in these islands, he guessed, had started with “some Ships which came from the Coast of Africk.”Footnote 50 He was correct about the origin, although he did not understand how this disease was transmitted. Parasites and viruses that were endemic in sub-Saharan Africa were transferred to the Caribbean, becoming endemic in much of the Caribbean as well. These diseases were unwittingly carried to the Americas with their vectors aboard slaving vessels from West Africa. This change in the disease environment of the American tropics shaped forced and free migration to the region.

There is a rich, if old, literature on the impact of tropical diseases on European colonization in the Americas. In the last four decades of the twentieth century, Philip D. Curtin and Kenneth F. Kiple stressed the differential impact of disease on European-born and African-born populations and the determinative role that epidemiology played in the creation of the African slave trade and slave societies in the Americas.Footnote 51 In 1992, Kiple and Brian T. Higgins argued that the introduction of yellow fever in 1647 explained the shift toward predominantly black populations in the Caribbean.Footnote 52 Yet this broad interpretive vein has had minimal impact on the specialist literature addressing the rise of slavery in the early English Caribbean. In 1972, Carl and Roberta Bridenbaugh saw the 1647–1652 epidemic as a catalyst in the rise of slavery in the early Caribbean, arguing that it “stimulated the importing of more blacks from Africa,” but they had no idea what the disease was or that it was connected to a changing tropical disease environment.Footnote 53 Richard Dunn, whose Sugar and Slaves was also published in 1972, knew that the epidemic was a yellow fever epidemic, but he did not highlight the differential impact of the disease on European and African laborers or argue that the yellow fever epidemic was a factor in the transition to African slavery.Footnote 54 In 1989, Hilary McD. Beckles speculated in passing that the death of so many white servants in the 1647–1652 epidemic “must have signalled to masters the impossibility of basing their long-term plantation economy upon the use of white labor.”Footnote 55 Most specialists of the transition to slavery in the English Caribbean, however, continue to overlook epidemiology as a determinative factor in their analyses. Instead, the standard narrative stresses economic factors such as the labor demands of sugar production, the limited supply of European servant labor, and the increasing cost of servant labor relative to slave labor or cultural factors such as prejudice toward Africans or the Irish.Footnote 56 Simon P. Newman, for example, argued in 2013 that the transition to a majority African labor force in Barbados was driven by “the increasing affordability of slaves, planters’ dislike of the numerous Irish servants … and the need to cut labor costs to a minimum.”Footnote 57 Epidemiological shifts help to explain more fully both the decline of white servants and the marked preference that planters displayed for enslaved African laborers after 1647.

A perfect storm of conditions aligned in midcentury Barbados for the yellow fever epidemic of 1647–1652. The initial growth of the African slave trade to Barbados introduced yellow fever to an island filled with nonimmune newcomers. They had been pushed to Barbados by political and social turmoil in the British Isles and pulled there by economic opportunity. From 1641 through the end of 1646, nearly 20,000 Africans disembarked from transatlantic slavers in Barbados.Footnote 58 From 1640 to 1650, the number of Europeans in Barbados more than doubled, while the overall population tripled from slightly more than 14,000 to nearly 43,000.Footnote 59 By the end of the 1640s, the small island of Barbados was by far the most densely settled colony in England’s overseas empire.Footnote 60 Barbadians began growing sugar in the mid-1640s, increasing labor demands.Footnote 61 Sugar agriculture in Barbados transformed the environment, creating ideal breeding conditions for Aedes aegypti. Sugar cultivation brought rapid deforestation.Footnote 62 As the trees disappeared, so did the birds that ate mosquitos.Footnote 63 The sugar economy was a boon for Aedes aegypti. These mosquitos are drawn to both blood and sweet liquid and can survive on either, although they need a blood meal to reproduce.Footnote 64 They also breed well in human-made water receptacles. They would have flourished in the clay pots planters used to refine sugar. Thousands of broken and discarded pots were strewn across these plantations.Footnote 65

The transition to a majority African labor force and an integrated plantation complex in Barbados came quickly on the heels of the 1647–1652 epidemic. The yellow fever epidemic was not the sole cause of that transition, but it shaped the speed and character of that transition with lasting effects. By 1660, at the latest, there were more blacks than whites.Footnote 66 The transition to racial slavery might have come even sooner had not the First Anglo–Dutch War and the turmoil in the British Isles curbed the traffic of slaving vessels from Africa from 1648 through 1654. The trade began to increase again in 1654.Footnote 67 The deaths of so many whites from yellow fever put the holdings of small landowners onto the market, enabling an elite class of survivors with capital to monopolize landholdings.Footnote 68 The consolidation of property spurred the creation of the integrated plantation system in the 1650s, a new innovation in Atlantic sugar cultivation, which led to greater profit maximization.Footnote 69 The booming profits from new economies of scale allowed planters to buy more African slaves.

Gang labor, which would become a signature aspect of sugar plantation slavery, followed quickly on the heels of the transition to an enslaved African majority. This system of labor organization evolved over the course of the seventeenth century, but it was in a nascent state within a decade of the first yellow fever epidemic.Footnote 70 It was one of the keys to the productivity of Barbados’ sugar industry.Footnote 71 Gang labor was a militaristic form of labor organization in which slaves worked in lockstep with a rhythmic cadence and uniform pace under the eyes of a whip-wielding driver or overseer. It was never used effectively with free laborers because it was so physically and psychologically draining, and it required remarkably high levels of control and close supervision.Footnote 72 The gang system spread beyond Barbados through the British Caribbean sugar islands.Footnote 73

Several factors contributed to the development of the gang system in the 1660s. Cultural prohibitions among the English kept them from using as much coercive violence with white servants as they did with African slaves. The transition to an African labor force was thus critical for the development of ganging.Footnote 74 The large number of white migrants in midcentury Barbados with a military background in seventeenth-century European warfare had experience with the kind of violence and discipline and with the synchronized movements necessary to oversee the gangs.Footnote 75 Soil erosion in seventeenth-century Barbados led the planters to adopt checkerboard grids of deep holes in the cane fields that facilitated the development of a more synchronized and uniform pace of labor.Footnote 76

The newly Africanized disease environment played an ancillary role in the development of gang labor. The productivity of the gang system was driven both by the willingness of Europeans to use violence to impel gang labor and by the capacity of the laborers to perform that work at the uniform and accelerated pace that the gang system demanded. The differential effects on servants and slaves of the increasingly Africanized disease environment made it possible for planters to force African slaves – through brutal measures – to work harder and more productively than European servants.Footnote 77 Significant differences between laborers in speed, strength or output would have made it more difficult to impose the uniform pace of the gang system. As European servants in field gangs declined through a combination of mortality, limited white migration and an increasing planter preference for Africans, the door opened for planters to fully develop gang labor.

The yellow fever epidemic had a significant impact on the age and sex ratios of white society, which in turn shaped property laws and ownership patterns in this budding slave economy. Children fared better than adults during yellow fever outbreaks and, at least in the 1647–1652 epidemic, women may have had greater survival rates than their male counterparts. According to Ligon, when yellow fever ravaged Barbados, “for one woman that dyed, there were tenne men.”Footnote 78 Other witnesses agreed, observing that the fever “most fell upon the men.”Footnote 79 There was almost certainly some exaggeration and confirmation bias in Ligon’s numbers. Ligon and the other settlers would have expected men to suffer more from disease because of what they believed was men’s greater tendency to debauchery and intemperance.Footnote 80 Yet, death rates were clearly greater on the whole for men than for women in the seventeenth-century English Caribbean, and these eyewitness accounts suggest that yellow fever, when it struck, at least intensified that discrepancy.Footnote 81 If it is true that the survival rates were greater for women, there may have been gendered conventions in dress that exposed men more than women to Aedes aegypti, which tend to bite exposed extremities, particularly bare feet, lower legs, and ankles. Divisions of labor might have also led men to be more exposed than women to bites from Aedes aegypti; they tend to feed outdoors at midday.Footnote 82

Because children and, possibly, adult women fared better in the 1647–1652 epidemic than men, Barbadians faced new sets of problems relating to the intestate inheritance of plantations and the management of orphans’ estates, including their slaves.Footnote 83 By 1655, Governor Daniel Searle and his council had received so “many and sundry complaints” of the “greate abuse [of] Orphants” by embezzling or inept estate managers that they decided to intervene. The governor declared that three men would be appointed in each parish to periodically monitor both the orphans and their estates and report abuses.Footnote 84 High death rates among white settlers in Barbados led the Barbadian Assembly to continue experimenting with new legislation to resolve intestate disputes, briefly reclassifying the “Slaves of this Island to be Real Estate” in cases of intestate inheritance. The law specifically noted that this clarification was necessary to ensure that “the Heir and Widow, who claims Dower, may not have bare Land without Negroes to manure the same.”Footnote 85 This legal maneuvering to protect estates inherited by widows and orphans helped to ensure the continuity of the emerging integrated plantation system in colonies with high mortality.Footnote 86

The yellow fever epidemic in Barbados was a marker of the “Africanization” of the Caribbean disease environment. From 1650 through 1700, 153,500 Europeans migrated to the English Caribbean but the combined white population declined from a high of 44,000 in 1650 to 33,000 in 1700.Footnote 87 After the introduction of African diseases, European mortality rates were on par with the enslaved in the Caribbean, even though the enslaved lived under much more brutal conditions.Footnote 88 In malaria-ridden Jamaica, mortality rates for whites were higher than among the enslaved blacks.Footnote 89 As Robert A. McGuire and Philip R. P. Coelho argue, the captive Africans that Europeans began to prefer as laborers in tropical and subtropical climates “had immune systems that had been selectively culled by the environment for the greatest resistance to tropical pathogens.”Footnote 90

Malaria and yellow fever became endemic or epidemic through much of the Caribbean in the last half of the seventeenth century. It was falciparum, the most lethal of the malaria parasites, that took hold in the region as the slave trade expanded. Feverish epidemics often followed quickly on the heels of large numbers of captives arriving from West Africa or large numbers of nonimmune servants or soldiers arriving from Europe. Africans fared better in the new Caribbean disease environment, but it still had a deleterious effect on both populations. One key difference was that Europeans could choose to avoid such a disease environment whereas African migration was involuntary. The threat of tropical fevers began to inhibit European migration to the Caribbean in the 1660s, while the differential impact of yellow fever and malaria on African and European populations gave planters another reason to prefer enslaved African labor in the sugar fields. After the yellow fever epidemic of 1647–1652, the British Caribbean became an increasingly nightmarish collection of demographically failed societies in which a handful of whites relied on sadistic punishments to control blacks.Footnote 91

The Return of Yellow Fever: The Caribbean Epidemic of the 1690s

A devastating yellow fever epidemic returned to the Caribbean again in the 1690s, driven by the nonimmune soldiers and sailors waging the Nine Years’ War (1688–1697).Footnote 92 England and the Dutch had allied against the French. Jamaica was invaded by the French in 1694, and the English were driven out of St. Kitts. The English countered with attacks on St. Domingue and Guadeloupe.Footnote 93 Mosquito-borne diseases shaped imperial destinies in this decade, both during and immediately after the war. Spanish counterattacks, poor planning, and what was likely a mix of yellow fever and malaria ensured that Scotland’s one major attempt at empire in the mosquito-infested swamps of the Darien Peninsula in 1698 failed.Footnote 94 The failure at Darien would bankrupt the Scots and lead to the Anglo-Scottish Act of Union in 1707, transforming the English empire into the British empire.

The effects of the second major Caribbean yellow fever epidemic were felt most keenly in Barbados with its dense population, particularly in Bridgetown, which was settled on low swampy ground. Waves of yellow fever rocked Barbados repeatedly through the 1690s until enough of the population had developed immunity to yellow fever. As Richard Dunn argued, “Thousands of Barbadians died” again, but the exact number is difficult to determine.Footnote 95 By 1693, Governor James Kendall said he had lived “almost three years” in Barbados and insisted that during that time “one half of the Inhabitants” and “two thirds of all those that have Arriv’d” had died.Footnote 96 By Kendall’s rough estimate, approximately 8,950 of the 17,900 whites living in Barbados in 1690 had died in just three years from yellow fever, and perhaps 1,600 of 2,450 new arrivals had died.Footnote 97 If Kendall’s estimate was right, then the death toll of nearly 10,550 among the white population by 1693 was already higher than it had been during the first Barbadian yellow fever epidemic, but it is possible that Kendall exaggerated the death toll in order to gain military support from the metropole during the war. In 1693, Kendall hoped, prematurely, that they were finally free from the “Contagious Sickness” with which the island had been “Severely afflicted.” He announced the end of the epidemic.Footnote 98 The island was “now in a perfect State of Health.”Footnote 99 He even declared “a publique day of Thanksgiving.”Footnote 100 The epidemic was not over; it grew worse.

Yellow fever returned to Barbados again in 1694, arriving with the rains as the mosquitos flourished. The height of the epidemic came in 1694, and more people died in Bridgetown that year than at any point in the seventeenth century.Footnote 101 Governor Francis Russell, who took over from Kendall in 1694, petitioned the Lords of Trade and Plantations for military support. He worried that the white population in Barbados was now so small that the enslaved would certainly rise again.Footnote 102 The epidemic continued until 1700, but some eyewitnesses in Barbados insisted that the death rates began to abate after 1694.Footnote 103 Nevertheless, in 1700 “Sickness so Raged in the Towne” and the mortality rates were high enough that people refused to travel to Bridgetown to attend the Court of Chancery. Most of the lawyers were sick. Many of the inhabitants had shut up their houses in town.Footnote 104 The English had learned to avoid the places in Barbados that seemed most sickly. Bridgetown became a ghost town. Overall, the yellow fever epidemic of the 1690s probably claimed more lives in Barbados than the first epidemic of 1647–1652. Ships and migrants avoided the island as word spread through port towns and taverns. Kendall observed that the return of yellow fever had “frightened all Mankind from Coming near us.”Footnote 105 The specter of disease could clearly shape both trade and migration.

The 1690s epidemic powerfully reinvigorated fears of the American tropics, and the English struggled to understand why, as Governor Kendall asserted in 1693, the Caribbean had become “the Region of Death.”Footnote 106 In 1695, Russell had maintained that this “very pestilentiall distemper” had been made worse by “winds” driven to Barbados “from ye Continent [the Guianas] wch is low & swampy land.” He also blamed the heat of the torrid zone. Surrounded by yellow fever, he begged permission from the Lords of Trade and Plantations to go to “a cold climate” if he felt ill. Russell believed that escaping the tropics was the “one cure” for the fevers that plagued the island.Footnote 107 In 1700, in the last year of the epidemic, a report submitted to the Board of Trade on the causes of the epidemic blamed the “Nastiness of the Streets” of Bridgetown. Having so much “filth and slime” around was particularly dangerous “to the health of the Inhabitants” in “so hott a Country.” It led to rot, mold, “stinking noisome smells,” and “infection of the Air.”Footnote 108 Notably, the report focused on the combination of the climate and the proliferation of slaves in Bridgetown. The author associated disease with both heat and the slaves themselves, and his solution was to create what he believed would be separate white (healthy) and black (unhealthy) spaces. “The Nastiness of the Negroes in that Town,” the author explained, “laying their Tales in the Nights in the Streets and Lanes, in so hott a Country,” was “one very great Cause of the Sickness there.”Footnote 109 He argued that enslaved people of African descent should be removed from Bridgetown by forcing the inhabitants by law to keep white servants in town instead. Slaves should be reserved for field work on rural plantations. This, he suggested, would also help to mitigate the dangers of rebellion and robbery in the colony.Footnote 110

The return of yellow fever during and immediately after the Nine Years’ War had a major impact on forced and free migration and racial demographics across the English Caribbean. Although 17,000 people from the British Isles – many of them soldiers – migrated to the English Caribbean in the 1690s, the white population in the region fell from 37,000 in 1690 to 33,000 in 1700.Footnote 111 Warfare played a role in the population decline of the 1690s, but yellow fever –and malaria on some of the islands – probably played a more significant role. Barbados, the most populated English island in the Caribbean, did not experience an invasion. Yellow fever was the lethal agent in Barbados. Whites may have succumbed to disease even more quickly in Jamaica where endemic malaria combined with yellow fever. According to Trevor Burnard, the white indentured servant population of Jamaica “rapidly declined” in the 1690s.Footnote 112 The yellow fever epidemic struck Jamaica in 1694, and it continued to strike the island in waves through the beginning of the eighteenth century.Footnote 113 This new storm of yellow fever may have led some of the wealthiest Jamaican planters to turn absentee in the eighteenth century, fleeing the island for safer climes in England and leaving their massive estates in the hands of managers.Footnote 114 Black to white ratios in the English sugar islands increased markedly after the 1690s, driven in part by the epidemic and by the increasing availability of slaves on the Gold Coast but also by renewed English fears of the feverish Caribbean environment. In 1690, blacks outnumbered whites across the English Caribbean by a ratio of 2.7:1. English planters turned quickly to enslaved labor after the war. By 1720, the ratio was 5:1.Footnote 115 Some islands saw exceptionally rapid changes after the 1690s. From 1691 through 1700, nearly 3,000 African captives had arrived in Antigua. In the next decade that number quadrupled.Footnote 116 Disease had once again bolstered English convictions that racial slavery was essential to settlement in the tropics.

Gold Coast in the 1690s

Historians have debated the extent to which disease prevented Europeans from extending the plantation complex to the West African coast.Footnote 117 Most historians would now stress factors other than the epidemiological environment. Yet, the evidence suggests that a complex combination of disease and the military weakness of Europeans relative to local West African polities kept the English and other Europeans from establishing more extensive colonies on the African coast. A case study of the English factories on the Gold Coast in the 1690s shows the extent to which the English factories could be weakened by disease. West African pathogens and parasites forced the English to rely more heavily on the labor of castle slaves and on local labor and military support. The disease environment and African agency in the slave trade need to be seen as interconnected. High mortality rates among European soldiers and servants at Royal African Company (RAC) factories led them to rely more fully on Africans to conduct the trade from the Gold Coast.

To maintain trading footholds on the African Coast and take advantage of the growing slave trade from the Gold Coast at the end of the seventeenth century, the English had to survive what was probably the most lethal epidemiological environment for European newcomers in all of England’s tropical empire.Footnote 118 A mix of falciparum malaria and yellow fever were the deadliest pathogens for Europeans on the Gold Coast. RAC servants and soldiers succumbed rapidly to the “feavers and agues” of these mosquito-borne viruses.Footnote 119 Annual death rates were always highest for English newcomers lacking immunity or resistance to the yellow fever and malaria endemic on the Gold Coast. Before the 1660s, Fort Cormantine was the most significant settlement on the Gold Coast; it was lost to the Dutch in 1665. In 1659, before the RAC monopoly on the African Coast began, the EIC still had possession of Fort Cormantine. James Cognet, the chief at the fort, wrote to London in June that year to insist that the company send new supplies of “Soldiers and workmen” because “one halfe of them you Sent … are dead and the rest Sick.”Footnote 120 The men sent to Africa by the RAC continued to suffer the same fate. Between 1695 and 1722, more than six out of every ten RAC employees died within their first year in Africa.Footnote 121 Death rates for RAC employees were highest in the rainy season between May and August as the rain pooled in empty containers and cisterns, providing a place for mosquitos to lay their eggs.Footnote 122 Between 1683 and 1734, 27 percent of all RAC employee deaths on the Gold Coasts occurred in June and July, but this number climbed to 35 percent between 1690 and 1699, suggesting perhaps that the mosquito-borne illnesses accompanying the rainy season were responsible for an even higher share of the death toll in the 1690s.Footnote 123

The death rates for the RAC’s white merchants and soldiers on the Gold Coast were particularly high in the 1690s. RAC agents at most of the English sites along the Gold Coast complained about sickness and the loss of men throughout the decade. In August of 1692, Joshua Platt, chief at Cape Coast Castle, wrote to London; “[T]he Year,” he complained, “hath bin fatall to ye men.”Footnote 124 The RAC resettled their most western outpost of Dixcove in 1692 with a few men.Footnote 125 By November, the chief factor Christopher Clarkson complained that the whole factory had fallen ill. They were all “very bad, noone being better than another.” All five European men had been so stricken with disease that there was no one left strong enough to “fire a gun.”Footnote 126 An epidemic in 1694 was the worst of the decade; it killed nearly six out of every ten company employees across the Gold coast.Footnote 127 The garrison at Cape Coast fell from 114 men in 1693 to seventy-five just a year later.Footnote 128 The rains were exceptionally severe in 1694.Footnote 129 John Bloome at James Fort in Accra noted that the rain was especially “violent” in late May and early June; the fort walls, he said, were collapsing. By the end of May, he complained “2 of our new men” were dead and “diverse others are sick.”Footnote 130 By the end of June, Bloome himself had fallen ill. He was “very indisposed” with a “weakness in my hands” that left him unable to care for himself.Footnote 131 At Sekondi, in 1694, the situation was no better; “all the white men” were “sick of a feaver.”Footnote 132 The great rains that year were catalysts for disease, encouraging both cholera and breeding mosquitos; the violent tropical rains also destroyed the RAC’s fortifications across the coast to such an extent that the company directors in London complained in 1695 about the unusual cost of repairs.Footnote 133 The English factors and their factories were all falling down.

Although the 1694 epidemic was the worst of that decade, disease continued to ravage the RAC settlements in the last half of the 1690s. In 1695, Edward Searle, the new chief in Accra, warned Cape Coast that the fort in Accra was still in need of repair after the great rains of 1694, but the “bricklayers” that Cape Coast sent had “been sick,” and in 1697 the “people” at Accra were still “so sickly” that Searle was still struggling to conduct business.Footnote 134 Likewise, in 1697, the RAC agents at Cape Coast complained that “Mortality doth much weaken them,” and noted that factors were sick across the forts on the coast, and more were needed.Footnote 135 As the men continued to fall, the RAC struggled to maintain sufficient soldiers and factors in the main garrison at Cape Coast. By 1697, there were only sixty-seven Europeans at the largest fort on the coast.Footnote 136 The RAC suggested in 1698 that Cape Coast needed a total of 150 men to be fully stocked.Footnote 137 Yet, by 1702, despite a succession of new arrivals, there were only fifty-five men remaining in the castle.Footnote 138 Disease forced the company to operate at the turn of the eighteenth century with little more than a skeleton crew at a point at which the slave trade was accelerating.Footnote 139

The intensification of warfare along the coast and the increase in human captives at RAC factories in the 1690s probably made the disease environment more deadly, much like the arrival of larger number of West Africans captives had led to disease epidemics in the Americas. Denser human populations and the migration and movement of people encourage the spread of almost all pathogens and parasites, including yellow fever and malaria. Both Europeans and Africans suffered from this pooling of pathogens and parasites in the 1690s at RAC sites. At Accra, James Fort was becoming very crowded with slaves for shipping. In February of 1694, Bloome wrote to Cape Coast to say that they had managed to buy 112 human captives at Accra, but the slaves were “too much crowded in their lodging.”Footnote 140 By March, many of them were “lately dead,” with “others falling sick dayly” with some sort of “catching disease” that was “amongst them.”Footnote 141 The same contagious disease may have plagued the slaves throughout the English forts on the Gold Coast in the mid-1690s. In 1695, Cape Coast had “Lost many slaves by Mortallity,” while at Accra the slaves were still perishing, falling suddenly sick “one day & dead the next.”Footnote 142 The Europeans at this fort were spared from this particular disease – likely because they were not forced to endure the crowded conditions of the dungeon – but when the heavy rains came in late May, the Europeans at Accra began to grow ill and die from the feverish diseases that were endemic on the Gold Coast forts in the rainy season.Footnote 143 By July of 1695, death had taken its toll to such an extent that the chief factor complained, “I want white[s].”Footnote 144 The fort was falling down and the company’s men were too sick to build it back up.Footnote 145 At Accra, in 1697, as the numbers of slaves held in the bowels of the castle grew, the company employees began to suffer from serious illness again. The rainy season had started, and the Europeans were “so sickly” and few in number that they had elected to keep a Portuguese employee that they were about to release from their service in order to have enough free whites staffing the fort.Footnote 146

Although the RAC forts on the Gold Coast were ravaged by epidemics in the mid-1690s, the more lethal disease environment had little impact overall on the English trade in human beings in West Africa. As the Company employees took sick and died, the trade continued to escalate, driven by warfare. When disease struck, the Company simply operated with fewer employees, eventually sent more to replace the dead, and relied more on local labor and on their castle slaves to maintain the forts. The commerce in human captives and other goods was as important to the African communities surrounding the English forts as it was to the English.

Sumatra, 1685–1700

After being forced out of the city of Bantam in 1682, the EIC pinned its hopes on Sumatra. In the mid-1680s, the Company began to carve out a new string of factories along the west coast of Sumatra just north of Bantam in Java and far enough from Dutch Batavia that the Company could hope to escape Dutch reprisals. The new factories were supposed to help the Company secure a larger share of the Indonesian pepper trade and counter the creation of a Dutch East India Company (VOC) pepper monopoly. Such a monopoly would be lucrative enough that the court of directors insisted it could change the balance of power in Europe, making the Dutch “Masters of the European as well as of the Indian Seas.”Footnote 147 After careful planning, the EIC directors in London settled on a place called Pryaman.Footnote 148 But, the Company’s local agents had different plans. In 1685, after listening to local reports about the pepper trade and consulting with local Malay dignitaries, they chose instead to establish the Company’s primary forts in Bencoolen and Indrapura, places that were ravaged by tropical diseases.Footnote 149 The EIC directors were furious at their local agents, particularly for the “fattall & never enough to be repented Error” of settling a factory in Bencoolen.Footnote 150 It was “too neare [Dutch] Batavia,” and, perhaps more importantly, the Company knew from “long & antient experience” that the part of the Sumatran coast around Bencoolen was “unhealthfull.”Footnote 151 The mortality rates at the English factories in both Indrapura and Bencoolen were catastrophic from the outset, and the Company was left with a puzzle to solve: how would they find enough laborers, soldiers, and settlers to maintain and defend these outposts when the people they sent died so quickly?

In June of 1685, EIC factors arrived with supplies and enough soldiers to begin building York Fort along the Bencoolen river in the country of Sungai Lemau.Footnote 152 The carnage that ensued in the next two years was breathtaking. They had arrived with a “great Number of people” and settled near the Malay town.Footnote 153 “Violent” and “greate raines” fell almost every day from June to October.Footnote 154 By October, the factors in Bencoolen were describing the toll that a “Sickness” had already taken. “[A]ll our souldiers, I may Say are unfitt for Service,” and “not five English that doe duty,” and “Six” more “portuaguess” laying sick with no “People to tend them.”Footnote 155 The disease seemed to spare no one. “[All] or most of ye Cooleys & black workmen are Sick & dead.”Footnote 156 Fifteen of these non-European workmen were left, and “ab[ou]t 40” had already died.Footnote 157 Most of these black workmen were probably free Indians brought from Madras.Footnote 158 Food was scarce because the “Cooks are sick,” and there was just one Portuguese man left healthy enough to fetch wood and water.Footnote 159 For every man who died of disease, another was dying of hunger. There was no one well enough to bury the fallen. “[D]ead corps” were lying all around “towne.”Footnote 160 A ship arrived to load pepper at the end of September but it was sent away before it was full because its men were all growing “Sick … & dayly men falling downe.”Footnote 161 No records of the exact numbers of deaths exist for this first year, but by mid-January only “11 men [were] able to hold a musquett.”Footnote 162 The few soldiers alive were on the edge of mutiny as the epidemic swept through the English factory in Bencoolen.Footnote 163 The Bencoolen council imprisoned some of the mutineers, but by April of 1686 the council decided that “Considering the Mortallity of men” and that “many” were also “Sick,” it was “fit to give yre prisoners theire liberty.” There were simply “not men enough to watch at night.”Footnote 164 They would have to trust the mutineers.

As the epidemic swept through the new arrivals in Bencoolen in 1685, the EIC’s head factor in Sumatra, Ralph Ordonds, left with “20 [English] Souldiers and Severall black Servants” for Indrapura to the north.Footnote 165 Bencoolen was, at first, supposed to be a subordinate factory to Indrapura. As the disease took its toll, the Bencoolen factory turned to Indrapura for help. The chief at Indrapura replied that they had heard of the “Sickly Condition” at the southern factory, but Bencoolen could expect “little help” from Indrapura because they were “little better or Rather worse our Selves.”Footnote 166 Most of the “Compa[ny] Servants” were “very Sick.” Again, it was not just the European settlers; “not one of our black people [is] well [with] some dead and many near dying.”Footnote 167 Few records survive from the early Company settlement in Indrapura because the bookkeeper took sick and then died, “Leaving no books or accots” other than some “loose papers.”Footnote 168 In July of 1686, as the deaths mounted and Indrapura was left with just a skeleton crew of factors, Madras decided to reverse the hierarchy on the west coast of Sumatra and make Indrapura subordinate to Bencoolen.Footnote 169 By August of 1687, there were “but 6 English Souldiers Liveing” from the twenty that Ordonds had led to Indrapura two years before: “[T]hey [were] scarce able to stand to Their arms Through weakness.”Footnote 170 In 1693, the Dutch seized Indrapura while another wave of disease swept through, killing the English “Governor and his Council” and causing a “great mortality.”Footnote 171 The Company put all its hope on Bencoolen.

The most savage killers in these early years in English Sumatra were almost certainly a mix of mosquito-borne pathogens. In 1687, Thomas Lucas, an EIC employee, noted that thick swarms of “Musketoes” preyed on people all along the Sumatran coast.Footnote 172 Most Europeans associated the tropical fevers in Sumatra with “malignant vapors” rather than mosquitos. William Dampier, who worked in Bencoolen as a gunner during the early settlement, suspected that “the winds coming over the Swamps” brought “a Stink with them,” which made it “an unhealthy Place.”Footnote 173 Lucas, however, recognized mosquitos as, at least, the harbingers of death if not the vectors. He claimed that the west coast of Sumatra was “so much annoyed w[i]th Musketoes ye infallable companions of bad aire.” That “boggy moist bad air” filled with mosquitos made it difficult for “Europeans” to “expect to live one yeare”Footnote 174 He imagined that Bencoolen would be somewhat healthier than elsewhere on the Sumatran coast because he had been “seinge very few” mosquitos during his brief time on shore there.Footnote 175 Unfortunately, for the English, Bencoolen proved an ideal breeding ground for mosquitos. The Malay settlement was “built on posts … for tis a Swamp the Town stands on.” The land around the fort, “especially near the Sea,” was also “swampy, producing nothing but Reeds or Bamboes.”Footnote 176 A “wett & dry Ditch” surrounded York Fort, often filled with stagnant water.Footnote 177 In the first two years, disease, as one would expect with a mosquito-borne pathogens or parasites, struck hardest during and immediately after the heavy rain season in September, October, and November.Footnote 178 As the English tried to clear and tame nearby forested land, brought cattle to tend, encouraged more settlers, and expanded the Sumatran settlements into a colony, they unintentionally encouraged the spread of malaria; deforestation and increases in the density of both humans and livestock are catalysts for malarial epidemics.Footnote 179

Malaria would not begin to fully ravage VOC employees in nearby Java until the 1730s, but the English settlements in Sumatra were subject to a particularly lethal mix of malarial parasites by the 1680s and 1690s.Footnote 180 Before 1733, approximately 6 percent of Europeans arriving in Dutch Batavia died in the first year, but after 1733 the death toll for European newcomers reached 50 percent or more in the first year, and as many as one-third of all European settlers in Batavia died in some years.Footnote 181 Falciparum malaria, the most lethal malarial parasite, was almost certainly the culprit; untreated, it can kill as many as 50 percent of the infected during epidemics, and the survivors suffer for many years.Footnote 182 The introduction of the falciparum parasite to the malarial mix would have led to higher mortality rates. Likewise, a combination of vivax and falciparum malaria probably killed most of the early settlers at Bencoolen and Indrapura.Footnote 183 Dengue fever, also transmitted by mosquitos after heavy rainfall, may have played a lesser role.Footnote 184 The soldiers in early Bencoolen and Indrapura were plagued by “feavours and Agues,” and the death rates at the outset appear to have approached or exceeded those in Batavia after the 1730s.Footnote 185 In 1692, when a company employee died and the surgeon examined him, they found that his “Lungs & Liver were quite decayed,” common effects of untreated malaria in people without any immunity; lung damage is particularly common in falciparum infections.Footnote 186 The chief factors in the Sumatran settlements were both sick, and they described recurrent bouts of illnesses and persistent weakness after their first attack, characteristic of malaria infections. In October of 1685, Indrapura said that “the Chiefe was but just Recovered when we Came hear and has been very Sick.”Footnote 187 In 1686, Benjamin Bloome, the governor of the Bencoolen factory, pleaded with Madras to find him a replacement as soon as he had finished his first year because the “the Nauscouness of the climate” had left him “perpetually Sick.”Footnote 188

From the outset, the EIC’s Sumatran factories became little more than a graveyard for the people sent there. As early as February of 1686, the Bencoolen council wrote to London to insist on more “People to Command I meane slaves.” He also wanted soldiers. They needed “a Superfluous number” of people to command, well beyond what was normally “requisite” to allow for the extreme “Mortallity” and “unhealthfullnesse of the climate.”Footnote 189 The directors in London had been excited about the prospects of the settlement in Pryaman.Footnote 190 When they heard instead about the devastation at Bencoolen and Indrapura and the petitions for more slaves, soldiers, and migrants, they were outraged. Trying to counter the exorbitant loss of money and manpower, they complained that the places that local factors had chosen to settle in Sumatra had already “caused ye deaths of above 500 men black & whites” and had cost the company more than £50,000.Footnote 191 The EIC directors refused to send “any more Soldiers … to be deprived of there lives in so short a time.”Footnote 192 They cautioned the factors still alive in Bencoolen that they needed to see proof that “Englishmen can live better in that place.” Until they got that proof, Bencoolen “must never expect from us workmen … to be sent out of England other than wt. we have already sent you.”Footnote 193 Perhaps “the Chineses & others” could be convinced to come settle there and “Cohabbitt with you.”Footnote 194 But, the Company did decide to send “Negro slaves.”Footnote 195 The Sumatran outposts needed both free settlers and laborers. Ideally, they would have settled European communities with families there, but the EIC directors knew as early as 1687 that Bencoolen had proven so “exceeding[ly] unhealthfull” for settlers that “few families will adventure to go thither.”Footnote 196 Madras tried at first to draw migrants and willing laborers for Sumatra from the Coromandel Coast of India, but by February of 1686 no one would go: “they hearing the Sad news of the Mortallity of soe many of [their] Country men, that went over” in the first settlements.Footnote 197 London wrote to St. Helena to see if there were “young men there … of 16 or 17 years of age” that would be willing to come to Bencoolen. They hoped to convince a few “planters sons” without sufficient land or prospects.Footnote 198 London also urged the company employees in Bencoolen to plant food and raise more livestock and tend to the “preservations of yo[u]r health” enough to prove the place was desirable for settlers.Footnote 199 The EIC wanted, most of all, to entice Chinese migrants and traders away from Dutch Batavia. The first five Chinese men arrived to settle in Bencoolen in 1689. To encourage them to stay and bring others, the EIC built them a house and gave them a substantial loan and continued to make sure that all Chinese settlers were “well treated.” They hoped the Chinese would begin carving out sugar plantations in Bencoolen.Footnote 200 Because of the disease environment, the Bencoolen factory soon became a kind of joint Anglo-Chinese endeavor.Footnote 201

The Dutch used a massive slave labor force to maintain their settlement and their fortifications in Batavia, and the EIC directors knew that they would need to model that schematic in a disease-ridden Sumatra.Footnote 202 Slavery had proven essential for settlement everywhere in the tropics. The EIC’s directors promised to buy and send another “100 Madagascar Negroes” as soon as possible, but the outbreak of the Nine Years’ War hindered their acquisition.Footnote 203 The directors in London promised to try to find enough slaves in Madras and Bombay to send to Indonesia, but they also urged the factors in Bencoolen to follow Dutch practice in Batavia and try to acquire slaves locally from “the Island of Balu [Bali] and other Islands to the Eastward of Javay [Java].”Footnote 204 The EIC directors wanted to avoid the high costs of continually resupplying the Sumatran settlements with slaves, so they urged the chief and council at Bencoolen to follow the Dutch method of managing slaves in Batavia in every way but one: “We would have ours,” the EIC insisted, “used with more Lenity and have their bellyes full of such meat as is Proper for them.”Footnote 205 More benign management, they hoped, would not only preserve the slave’s “Lives & healths” but also lead to their natural “Encrease and Multiplication,” diminishing replacement costs for the Company.Footnote 206

The disease-ridden Bencoolen settlement and the smaller subsidiary factories developed in Sumatra would rely as much as possible on forced labor, and these Sumatran outposts would become a dumping ground for the Company’s criminals and other undesirables, a common story in the seventeenth-century English tropics. When Dampier was in Bencoolen in 1690, the soldiers of the fort “were sickly and died very fast.”Footnote 207 Little changed over time. According to Dampier, Bencoolen became well-known as “the most unhealthy Place of any that we trade to.”Footnote 208 The struggle to find European or free migrants, soldiers, and laborers in the Sumatran disease environment meant that the EIC continued to rely on non-European soldiers and migrants and, particularly, on slave labor.Footnote 209 The English persisted in trying to make Sumatra into a “famous Colony” by staffing and settling it with non-European forced and free migrants from throughout the tropics.Footnote 210

Conclusion

Mosquitos and the diseases they carried helped to create disease environments that shaped the expansion of tropical slavery and the nature of slavery around the globe. In midcentury Barbados, the transition to enslaved labor happened more quickly because of a yellow fever epidemic. The disease claimed the lives of so many white indentured servants, convicts, and prisoners of war during the early sugar boom and weakened so many others that the planters began to turn more readily to African slaves. In the late 1680s and early 1690s, the EIC’s Sumatran factories were so ravaged by malaria that they developed a reputation as the unhealthiest place among all the EIC possessions. The Sumatran factories became an Anglo-Chinese partnership that relied heavily on Indonesian laborers and soldiers to protect its interests from the Dutch while they tried to develop the pepper trade. In the 1690s, the Nine Years’ War unleashed another yellow fever epidemic in the Caribbean, wiping out many of the remaining white settlers and reinvigorating fears of the effects of the tropics on white bodies. As Caribbean governors struggled to find and retain white migrants, sugar planters resorted to relying even more on enslaved African laborers. White to black ratios in the Caribbean rose sharply after the war. A surge in the supply of captives on the Gold Coast helped to facilitate this growth. In the 1690s, the English factories on West Africa’s Gold Coast had to learn to rely more on Anglo-African partnerships with the various fragmented coastal communities in order to maintain their security amid escalating local warfare while still taking advantage of a surging trade in human captives. In all three places, slaves began to match or outnumber the English population, sometimes by large margins.

English efforts to rationalize organic processes they failed to understand fostered increasingly virulent racism that they deployed to justify the enslavement of Africans over the servitude of Europeans in the tropics. The globalization of trade and forced labor markets and the spread of plantation agriculture transformed tropical disease environments, making them increasingly inhospitable to European newcomers. Many English colonial architects had become convinced by the 1660s, after the first Barbadian yellow fever epidemic, that the forced migration and labor of non-Europeans was essential to settlement and profit in the tropical zones because of the different effects of hot climates on white and black bodies. In 1660, the chief agent at Fort Cormantine on the Gold Coast wrote the EIC directors to complain that he could not possibly “meddle” with “Building of Factories to Windwards” without “at least 100 Slaues for the Diginge of stones and other labor which the White men are not able to indure.” In 1663, Edward Doyley, the first governor of Jamaica, reported that the new English royal colony in Jamaica was “very unhealthy” for the English, but it was “wonderfull healthful for Negroes which are the life of Plantations.”Footnote 211 Enslaved Africans had the same risk of mortality in Jamaica, he thought, “as English in England.” In contrast, he claimed, newly arrived Africans in the more temperate zones of Virginia struggled to survive “the Winter.”Footnote 212 The English believed that white bodies were fragile in the tropics while black bodies endured. Perhaps more importantly, blacks could be more easily forced to migrate and forced to labor in those harsh conditions.

English colonizers in the Indian Ocean responded to the death toll from disease by adopting the same racial logic as their Caribbean and West African counterparts. In 1686, the Bencoolen council argued that “Madagascar Blacks” would be important in Bencoolen because they had proven essential to maintaining a Dutch presence in the region, especially at Padang in West Sumatra, where the environment had proven especially deadly for Europeans.Footnote 213 They argued that the Dutch could not possibly do the heavy work of building forts without black slaves.Footnote 214 In 1701, an English traveler to Borneo stopped in Bombay where he observed that the combination of heavy tropical rain and the “Sultry heat” were “very pernicious to Europeans.” The resulting corruption of “ye Air” had a “feverish effect” which left most Europeans suffering from “feavors & fluxes.” The environment, he noted, was especially lethal for people “from England.”Footnote 215

This racialization of tropical bodies and the idea of homogenous tropical zone led the English to assume, wrongly, in a homogeneity in the resistance of all “black” people to tropical fevers. English perceptions of the hardiness of Malagasy bodies underscore the ways in which the English began to lump together sub-Saharan West Africans with the Malagasy, describing them both as “negroes.”Footnote 216 Their assumptions had devastating effects on the enslaved. The English seemed to have hoped that the Malagasy would thrive in the swampy fever-ridden tropical environments around their factories in Sumatra. They labeled the “Madagascar Blacks” the “best” slaves for “Service” in Sumatra.Footnote 217 However, Madagascar’s climate, terrain and disease environment was significantly different than West Africa. Overall, the Malagasy people had less exposure to malaria than coastal West Africans. Some of the Malagasy could trace their descent to the Bantu-speaking people of East Africa and they likely had some genetic resistance to malaria. Others, such as the Merina, had descended from the Austronesians and had little or no such inherited resistance.Footnote 218 The Merina established communities in the interior highlands of the island to escape the fevers along the coast of Madagascar. Although malaria was endemic in coastal Madagascar in the sixteenth century, it was not endemic in the central highlands of Madagascar until the nineteenth century and many of the enslaved were taken from the highlands.Footnote 219 The EIC sent enslaved Malagasy, likely taken from both the highlands and the coastal areas, to Sumatra and the other Indonesian islands where malaria was endemic.Footnote 220 The Company hoped that the Malagasy would be hardier and more robust than captives taken from the Indonesian islands but the brutality of enslavement and the disease environment ensured that their mortality and morbidity rates were very high. Many enslaved Malagasy succumbed to the same fevers that killed both the English and many of the workers who had been brought from the Indian subcontinent.Footnote 221

The growing English assumption that heavy labor in the tropics had to be done by non-Europeans combined with the increasing supply of slaves from Africa, the profitable economics of slave-based production and a dwindling number of Englishmen willing to migrate drove the expansion of slave-based economies in the tropics. Mosquito-borne diseases combined with scorching suns and torrid rains made the tropics seem to be a dangerous place. Early ideas about race and environmental determinism were shaped by English experiences in the tropics, particularly after the devastating Barbadian epidemic of 1647, a hinge point in the development of slavery in the English empire. Endemic and epidemic diseases – particularly yellow fever and malaria in Africa and the Americas, and malaria in Asia – continued to claim the lives of many Europeans, reinforcing their fear of the hot sun, the heavy rains, and the corrupt air of the tropics. English fears of fevers and tropical heat and the effects of epidemics – such as the ones in the 1680s and 1690s in the Caribbean, on the Gold Coast, and in Sumatra – helped to direct the expansion of the empire and its labor politics. The disease environment forced the English to rely on non-English people to build an empire. Non-European slaves became so closely associated with heavy labor and profits that the model of the English planation complex, forged in Barbados, spread throughout the global tropics.

Footnotes

1 Fort Cormantine to London, July 16, 1660. India Office Records (IOR): E/3/26, f. 188, in Trade on the Guinea Coast, 1657−1666: The Correspondence of the English East India Company, ed. Margaret Makepeace (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1991), 7071.

2 “A Short Narrative of the State and Condition of the Colony of Surinam, and Especially of the Occurrences There since the Departure of Lt.-Genl. Willoughby to This Present Time,” July 30, 1668, Colonial Office Papers (CO) 1/23, No. 31, [1], National Archives, United Kingdom.

3 Alexander Hamilton, A New Account of the East-Indies, vol. 1 (Edinburgh: Printed by John Mosman, 1727), 185. For more on mortality in early Bombay, see Robert Markley, “‘A Putridness in the Air: Monsoons and Mortality in Seventeenth-Century Bombay,” Journal for Early Modern Cultural Studies 10, no. 2 (2010): 105125.

4 Thomas Tryon, Friendly Advice to the Gentlemen Planters of the East and West Indies (London: Andrew Sowle, 1684), 52.

5 Robert McGuire and Philip R. Coelho, Parasites, Pathogens and Progress: Diseases and Economic Development (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2011), 9195, 111.

6 McGuire and Coelho, Parasites, Pathogens, and Progress, 5775, 172.

7 See for example Philip D. Curtin, “Epidemiology and the Slave Trade,” Political Science Quarterly 83.2 (1968): 190216; K. F. Kiple and V. H. Kiple, “Black Yellow Fever Immunities, Innate and Acquired, as Revealed in the American South,” Social Science History 1.4 (1977), 419436; Kenneth F. Kiple, The Caribbean Slave: A Biological History (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1984), 161176; Philip D. Curtin, Death by Migration: Europe’s Encounter with the Tropical World in the Nineteenth Century (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989); Kenneth F. Kiple and Brian T. Higgins, “Yellow Fever and the Africanization of the Caribbean,” in Disease and Demography in the Americas, eds. John W. Verano and Douglas H. Ubelaker (Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1992), 237248.

8 Donald Cooper and Kenneth Kiple, “Yellow Fever,” in The Cambridge World History of Disease, ed. Kenneth Kiple (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1993), ed. Kiple, 11001102; Michelle Moore et al., “Dual African Origins of Global Aedes aegypti s.l. Populations Revealed by Mitochondrial DNA,” PLOS Neglected Tropical Diseases 7, no.4 (2013): 18.

9 James Goodyear, “The Sugar Connection: A New Perspective on the History of Yellow Fever,” Bulletin of the History of Medicine 52, no. 1 (1978): 1213; J. R. McNeill, Mosquito Empires: Ecology and War in the Greater Caribbean, 1620−1914 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2010), 4243; McGuire and Coelho, Parasites, Pathogens, and Progress, 90; Trevor Burnard, Planters, Merchants, and Slaves: Plantation Societies in British America, 1650−1820 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2015), 6970.

10 Hélène Hiwat and Gustavo Bretas, “Ecology of Anopheles Darlingi Root with Respect to Vector Importance: a Review,” Parasites & Vectors 4 (2011): 5; Thomas P. Agyekum et al., “A Systematic Review of Temperature on Anopheles Mosquito Development and Survival: Implications for Malaria Control in a Future Warmer Climate,” International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health 18, no. 14 (2021): 122; Guillermo L. Rúa, “Laboratory Estimation of Increasing Temperatures on the Duration of Gonotropic cycle of Anopheles albimanus (Diptera: Culicidae),” Memórias do Instituto Oswaldo Cruz 100, no. 5 (2005): 515520; Ibrahima Diout et al., “Climate Variability and Malaria over West Africa,” American Journal of Tropical Medicine and Hygiene 102 no. 5 (2020): 1037.

11 Richard S. Dunn, Sugar and Slaves: The Rise of the Planter Class in the English West Indies, 1624−1713 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2012), 303.

12 McNeill, Mosquito Empires, 3435; McGuire and Coelho, Parasites, Pathogens, and Progress, 86.

13 Darrett B. Rutman and Anita H. Rutman, “Of Agues and Fevers: Malaria in the Early Chesapeake,” William and Mary Quarterly 33, no. 1 (1976): 3435, 3738; Cooper and Kiple, “Yellow Fever,” 11011102; Frederick L. Dunn, “Malaria,” in Cambridge World History of Disease, ed. Kiple, 856; Randall M. Packard, The Making of a Tropical Disease: A Short History of Malaria (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2007), 21, 29; Denise L. Doolan et al., “Acquired Immunity to Malaria,” Clinical Microbiology Reviews 22, no. 2 (2009): 1336; James L. A. Webb, Jr., Humanity’s Burden: A Global History of Malaria (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 4; McGuire and Coelho, Parasites, Pathogens, and Progress, 5775, 90, 157159, 161171.

14 James L. A. Webb, Jr. “Globalization of Disease, 1300 to 1900,” in The Cambridge World History, vol. 6: The Construction of a Global World, 1400−1800 CE, Part 1, eds. Jerry H. Bentley, Sanjay Subrahmanyam, and Merry E. Weisner-Hanks (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2015), 68; McNeill, Mosquito Empires, 10, 3233; Monica H. Green and Loris Jones, “The Evolution and Spread of Major Human Diseases in the Indian Ocean World,” in Disease Dispersion and Impact in the Indian Ocean World, eds. Gwyn Campbell and Eva-Maria Knoll (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2020), 30.

15 John J. Heagerty, Four Centuries of Medical History in Canada and a Sketch of the Medical History of Newfoundland, vol. 1. (Toronto: Macmillan Company of Canada, 1928), 97102; Dunn, “Malaria,” 860861.

16 Documented cases of the yellow fever virus appeared in Asia in 2016, exported by travelers from Africa. See Cooper and Kiple. “Yellow Fever,” in Cambridge World History of Disease, 11011102; McNeill, Mosquito Empires, 39; Annelies Wilder-Smith, Vernon Lee, and Duane J. Gubler, “Yellow Fever: Is Asia Prepared for an Epidemic?” The Lancet 19, no. 3 (2019): 241.

17 John R. McNeill, “Disease Environments to 1850,” in Philip D. Morgan, Matthew Mulcahy, John R. McNeill, and Stuart B. Schwartz, Sea and Land: An Environmental History of the Caribbean (New York: Oxford University Press, 2022), 157, 167.

18 Cooper and Kiple, “Yellow Fever,” 1101.

19 Webb, Humanity’s Burden, 56.

20 Rutman and Rutman, “Of Agues and Fevers,” 4042.

21 Webb, Humanity’s Burden, 6.

22 Rutman and Rutman, “Of Agues and Fevers,” 34; James L. A. Webb, Struggle against Malaria in Tropical Africa: Immunities, Infections and Interventions (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014), 5. The death rates for untreated falciparum may have risen as high as 50 percent for people with no resistance; P. H. van der Brug, “Malaria in Batavia in the Eighteenth Century,” Tropical Medicine and International Health 2, no. 9 (September 1997): 895.

23 Webb, “Globalization of Disease,” 6768.

24 Webb, Struggle against Malaria, 5.

25 Rutman and Rutman, “Of Agues and Fevers,” 42; Peter McCandless, Slavery, Disease, and Suffering in the Southern Lowcountry (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 4346, 61.

26 Green and Jones, “Spread of Major Human Diseases,” 30; Eva-Maria Knoll and Gwyn Campbell, “Introduction,” in Disease Dispersion and Impact in the Indian Ocean World, eds. Campbell and Knoll, 11.

27 Hans Pols, “Notes from Batavia, The Europeans’ Graveyard: The Nineteenth-Century Debate on Acclimatization in the Dutch East Indies,” Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences 67, no. 1 (2012): 125; van der Brug, “Malaria in Batavia in the Eighteenth Century,” 892902.

28 Bencoolen to London, October 8, 1686, IOR: G/21/7, p. 101.

29 Markus Vink, “‘The World’s Oldest Trade’: Dutch Slavery and Slave Trade in the Indian Ocean in the Seventeenth Century,” Journal of World History 14, no. 2 (2003), 146.

30 Gwyn Campbell, “Malaria in History,” in Disease Dispersion and Impact in the Indian Ocean World, eds. Campbell and Knoll, 133134.

31 A holoendemic environment is one in which a disease has infected nearly everyone in that environment. Webb, Humanity’s Burden, 83; McNeill, Mosquito Empires, 4446, 5354; McGuire and Coelho, Parasites, Pathogens, and Progress, 9195, 111; Webb, Struggle against Malaria, 1617, 4549.

32 Cooper and Kiple, “Yellow Fever,” 1102; Packard, Tropical Disease, 2829; Doolan et al., “Acquired Immunity to Malaria,” 1336; McNeill, Mosquito Empires, 4446; McCandless, Slavery, Disease, and Suffering, 144147; McGuire and Coelho, Parasites, Pathogens, and Progress, 9197, 111; Marola Espinosa, “The Question of Racial Immunity to Yellow Fever in History and Historiography,” Social Science History 38, nos. 34 (January 2014): 437453; Webb, Struggle against Malaria in Tropical Africa, 6.

33 McGuire and Coelho, Parasites, Pathogens and Progress, 83.

34 Philip D. Curtin, “‘The White Man’s Grave’: Image and Reality, 1780–1850,” Journal of British Studies 1, no. 1 (1961): 94–110; H. M. Feinberg, “New Data on Mortality in West Africa: The Dutch on the Gold Coast, 17191760,” Journal of African History 15, no. 3 (1974): 358360, 365366; K. G. Davies, “Living and the Dead: White Mortality in West Africa, 16841732,” in Race and Slavery in the Western Hemisphere: Quantitative Studies, ed. Stanley Engerman and Eugene Genovese (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1975), 89; Trevor Burnard, “European Migration to Jamaica, 16551780” William and Mary Quarterly, 53, no. 4 (1996): 779780; van der Brug, “Malaria in Batavia,” 894; Webb, Humanity’s Burden, 75.

35 A holoendemic environment is one in which a disease has infected nearly everyone in that environment. Curtin, “White Man’s Grave,” 94–110.

36 McGuire and Coelho, Parasites, Pathogens and Progress, 92–93.

37 Curtin, Death by Migration, 7–8.

38 Feinberg, “New Data on European Mortality,” 358.

39 Curtin, Death by Migration, 8; Peter Coclanis, “Military Mortality in Tropical Asia: British Troops in Tenasserim, 1827–1836,” Journal of Southeast Asia Studies 30, no. 1 (1999): 28.

40 Curtin, Death by Migration, 8.

41 Dunn, Sugar and Slaves, 303; Kenneth Kiple and Kriemhild Coneè Ornelas, “Race, War and Tropical Medicine in the Eighteenth Century Caribbean,” in Warm Climates and Western Medicine: The Emergence of Tropical Medicine, 15001900, ed. David Arnold (Leiden: Brill, 1996), 67.

42 Curtin, Death by Migration, 8.

43 Richard Ligon, A True & Exact History of the Island of Barbados (London: Humphrey, 1657), 21; G. M. Findlay, “The First Recognized Epidemic of Yellow Fever,” Transactions of the Royal Society of Tropical Medicine and Hygiene 35, no. 3 (1941): 143–154. The disease that caused this epidemic was sometimes referred to in the seventeenth-century Caribbean as the “Barbados distemper.” See Noble David Cook, Born to Die: Disease and New World Conquest, 1492−1650 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 179.

44 Ligon, True & Exact History, 118–119; Carl Bridenbaugh and Roberta Bridenbaugh, No Peace beyond the Line: The English in the Caribbean (New York: Oxford University Press, 1972), 125.

45 Ligon, True & Exact History, 21.

46 John McCusker and Russell Menard, The Economy of British America, 16071789 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1985), 153; Bridenbaugh and Bridenbaugh, No Peace beyond the Line, 128; Slave Voyages: Transatlantic Slave-Trade Database, estimates, www.slavevoyages.org/estimates/QWbbR06P (accessed October 2021).

47 Findlay, “Yellow Fever,” 146; Bridenbaugh and Bridenbaugh, No Peace beyond the Line, 128; David Watts, The West Indies: Patterns of Development, Culture and Environmental Change since 1492 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 216; Hilary McD. Beckles, White Servitude and Black Slavery in Barbados, 16271715 (Knoxville: The University of Tennessee Press, 1989), 120; Kiple and Ornelas, “Race, War and Tropical Medicine,” 66; McNeill, Mosquito Empires, 64.

48 Records of the Governor and Company of the Massachusetts-Bay in New England, ed. Nathaniel B. Shurtleff, vol. 2: 1642–1649 (Boston: William White, 1853), 237; Findlay, “Yellow Fever,” 143–144, 152; Goodyear, “Sugar Connection,” 13–15; Philip B. Boucher, France and the American Tropics: Tropics of Discontent? (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2008), 127.

49 Kenneth F. Kiple and Brian T. Higgins used the term “Africanization” to describe the demographic shift toward predominantly black populations in the Caribbean after the arrival of yellow fever. See Kiple and Higgins, “Yellow Fever and the Africanization of the Caribbean,” 237–245. Kiple and Ornelas later used the term “Africanizing” to describe a “rapidly changing pool of pathogens” and the introduction of diseases of African origin in the Caribbean, but they argued that this process only took place “over the course of the eighteenth century.” See Kiple and Ornelas, “Race, War and Tropical Medicine,” 66–67.

50 Céasar de Rochefort, The History of the Caribby-Islands … (London: J.M. for T. Dring and J. Starkey, [1658], 1666), 3.

51 For prominent examples, see Philip D. Curtin, “Epidemiology and the Slave Trade,” Political Science Quarterly 83, no. 2 (1968): 190–216; Curtin, Death by Migration; K. F. Kiple and V. H. Kiple, “Black Yellow Fever Immunities, Innate and Acquired, as Revealed in the American South,” Social Science History 1, no. 4 (1977): 419–436; Kiple, The Caribbean Slave: A Biological History (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1984), 161–176.

52 Kiple and Higgins, “Yellow Fever and the Africanization of the Caribbean,” 237–245.

53 Bridenbaugh and Bridenbaugh, No Peace beyond the Line, 125–128, 128 (quotation).

54 Dunn, Sugar and Slaves, 54, 59, 67–76, 303.

55 Beckles, White Servitude and Black Slavery, 120.

56 McCusker and Menard, Economy of British America, 151–152, 156; Dunn, Sugar and Slaves, 40, 77, 303–306; Burnard, Planters, Merchants, and Slaves, 22–25, 34; David Eltis, The Rise of African Slavery in the Americas (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 193–223; B. W. Higman, “The Sugar Revolution,” Economic History Review 53, no. 2 (2005): 224; Russell R. Menard, Sweet Negotiations: Sugar, Slavery and Plantation Agriculture in Early Barbados (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2006), 120–121; Susan Dwyer Amussen, Caribbean Exchanges: Slavery and the Transformation of English Society (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2007), 83–85; Russell R. Menard, “Plantation Empire: How Sugar and Tobacco Planters Built Their Industries and Raised an Empire,” Agricultural History 81, no. 3 (2007): 318; Simon P. Newman, A New World of Labor: The Development of Plantation Slavery in the British Atlantic (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2013), 76, 92, 97; Brooke Newman, A Dark Inheritance: Blood, Race, and Sex in Colonial Jamaica (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2018), 123, 167, 170; Edward B. Rugemer, Slave Law and the Politics of Resistance in the Early Atlantic World (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2018), 11–51, 73–74.

57 Newman, New World of Labor, 97.

58 Slave Voyages: Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade Database, estimates, www.slavevoyages.org/estimates/QWbbR06P (accessed October 2021); Newman, New World of Labor, 72–82.

59 The population number for 1640 does not include enslaved blacks, but McCusker and Menard suggest that there was a “small number of blacks” in 1640, and that number “exploded to nearly 13,000 by 1650.” See McCusker and Menard, Economy of British America, 151, 153.

60 McCusker and Menard, Economy of British America, 103, 136, 153, 203; Watts, West Indies, 214; Burnard, Planters, Merchants, and Slaves, 32.

61 Eltis, Rise of African Slavery, 195–196.

62 Menard, Sweet Negotiations, 79.

63 Burnard argues that this same environmental process happened during the transition to sugar in Jamaica. See Trevor Burnard, “‘The Countrie Continues Sicklie’: White Mortality in Jamaica, 1655–1780,” Social History of Medicine 12, no. 1 (1999): 56.

64 Goodyear, “Sugar Connection,” 11; Burnard, “Countrie Continues Sicklie,” 56; Monika Gulla-Nuss et al., “Multiple Factors Contribute to Anautogenous Reproduction by the Mosquito Aedes aegypti,” Journal of Insect Physiology 82 (2015): 8–9.

65 Goodyear, “Sugar Connection,” 12–13; Burnard, “Countrie Continues Sicklie,” 56.

66 McCusker and Menard, Economy of British America, 154; Hilary McD. Beckles, “The Concept of ‘White Slavery’ in the English Caribbean during the Early Seventeenth Century,” in Early Modern Conceptions of Property, eds. John Brewer and Susan Staves (New York: Routledge, 1995), 572. Thousands of white Barbadians migrated from the island in the 1650s and early 1660s, exacerbating the decline of the white population from yellow fever. Many of these Barbadians may have left because they were afraid of the unhealthy environment. See Bridenbaugh and Bridenbaugh, No Peace beyond the Line, 128; Justin Roberts, “Surrendering Surinam: The Barbadian Diaspora and the Expansion of the English Sugar Frontier, 1650–1675,” William and Mary Quarterly, 73, no. 2 (2016): 229–232.

67 Slave Voyages, estimates, www.slavevoyages.org/estimates/udXgAXrc (accessed May 2021).

68 Bridenbaugh and Bridenbaugh, No Peace beyond the Line, 128. Contemporaries lamented this land consolidation, arguing that it weakened the island. See John Scott, “The Description of Barbados” [ca. 1677], in Some Early Barbadian History, ed. P. F. Campbell (Wildey: Ian Randle Publishers, 1993), 259.

69 Burnard, Planters, Merchants, and Slaves, 4–5, 22–52; Phillip D. Curtin, Rise and Fall of the Plantation Complex: Essays in Atlantic History, 2nd ed. (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 83; Eltis, Rise of African Slavery, 202; Menard, Sweet Negotiations, 34–35, 95; Lorena S. Walsh, Motives of Honor, Pleasure, and Profit: Plantation Management in the Colonial Chesapeake, 16071763 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2010), 227; Nuala Zahedieh, The Capital and the Colonies: London and the Atlantic Economy, 16601700 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2010), 216; Newman, New World of Labor, 59–60, 64–65.

70 Burnard, Planters, Merchants, and Slaves, 55; Walsh, Motives of Honor, 227; Nicholas Radburn and Justin Roberts, “Gold versus Life: Jobbing Gangs and British Caribbean Slavery,” William and Mary Quarterly 76, no. 2 (2019): 229.

71 David Eltis, “Total Product of Barbados, 1664–1701” Journal of Economic History 55, no. 2 (1995): 334–336; Eltis, Rise of African Slavery, 197–198, 213–214, 221–222; Menard, Sweet Negotiations, 98.

72 Robert William Fogel and Stanley L. Engerman, Time on the Cross: The Economics of American Negro Slavery (New York: Little, Brown & Company, 1974), 236–239; Philip D. Morgan, “Task and Gang Systems: The Organization of Labor on New World Plantations,” in Work and Labor in Early America, ed. Stephen Innes (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1988): 189–220; Robert William Fogel, Without Consent or Contract: The Rise and Fall of American Slavery (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1989), 74–75; Burnard, Planters, Merchants, and Slaves, 54–58; Justin Roberts, Slavery and the Enlightenment in the British Atlantic, 17501807 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013), 131–160.

73 Morgan, “Task and Gang Systems.’

74 Eltis, Rise of African Slavery, 220–221.

75 Burnard, Planters, Merchants, and Slaves, 54, 58–60, 79–80.

76 Radburn and Roberts, “Gold versus Life,” 228–229.

77 McGuire and Coelho, Parasites, Pathogens, and Progress, 71, 73–75.

78 Ligon, True & Exact History, 21.

79 Scott, “Description of Barbados,” 251.

80 Ligon, True & Exact History, 21; McNeill, Mosquito Empires, 35–36; Susan Scott Parish, “Richard Ligon and the Atlantic Science of Commonwealths,” William and Mary Quarterly 67, no. 2 (2010): 225.

81 Dunn, Sugar and Slaves, 327; Goodyear, “Sugar Connection,” 6; McNeil, Mosquito Empires, 35–36.

82 I am thankful to Jason Opal for pointing out the potential impact of women’s clothing. Mark S. Fradin, “Mosquitos and Mosquito Repellents: A Clinician’s Guide,” Annals of Internal Medicine 128, no. 11 (1998): 932.

83 Goodyear, “Sugar Connection,” 6; Scott, “Description of Barbados,” 251.

84 Governor’s Order, November 16, 1655, in Barbados Council Minutes, 1654–1658, vol. 1 (Typescript, 1934), PRO 31/17/43, p. 114 (quotation), pp. 114–115, National Archives, United Kingdom.

85 The act was clarified in 1672 to ensure that slaves were treated as chattel more than real estate in anything but intestate inheritance. “An Act Declaring the Negro Slaves of This Island to Be Real Estate” [1668] and “A Declarative Act upon the Act Making Negroes Real Estate” [1672] in Acts of Assembly Passed in the Island of Barbadoes, from 1648 to 1718 (London: John Baskett, 1721), 63 (quotation), 63–64, 101.

86 Lee B. Wilson, Bonds of Empire: The English Origins of Slave Law in South Carolina and British Plantation America, 16601783 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2021), 46–50.

87 Henry A. Gemery, “Emigration from the British Isles to the New World: Inferences from Colonial Populations,” Research in Economic History, 5 (1980): 179–231; McCusker and Menard, Economy of British America, 154.

88 David Eltis, Rise of African Slavery, 68.

89 Burnard, “Countrie Continues Sicklie,” 46.

90 McGuire and Coelho, Parasites, Pathogens, and Progress, 111.

91 Trevor Burnard, “A Failed Settler Society: Marriage and Demographic Failure in Early Jamaica,” Journal of Social History 28, no. 1 (1994): 63–82.

92 McNeill, Mosquito Empires, 64–65, 147–149.

93 Watts, West Indies, 246–247; Henry Barham, “The Civil History of Jamaica to the Year 1722,” Add Ms 12422, pp. 193–212, British Library.

94 Christopher Storr, “Disaster at Darien (1698–1700)? The Persistence of Spanish Imperial Power on the Eve of the Demise of the Spanish Hapsburgs,” European Historical Quarterly, 29, no. 1 (1999), 5–38; McNeil, Mosquito Empires, 109–122.

95 Dunn, Sugar and Slaves, 303.

96 James Kendall to the Board of Trade, February 10, 1693, Colonial Office Papers (CO) 28/2, p. 5.

97 For the population of Barbados in 1690, see McCusker and Menard, Economy of British America, 153. Approximately 17,000 people from the British Isles migrated to the Caribbean in the 1690s. See Menard, Sweet Negotiations, 41. Approximately 48 percent of the white population of the English Caribbean lived in Barbados in 1690. See McCusker and Menard, Economy of British America, 153–154. The estimate of total deaths among newcomers assumes that the migrants arrived at a consistent pace over the 1690s, that 48 percent of them came to Barbados, and that two-thirds of them died.

98 “A Proclamation for a Publique Day of Thanksgiveing,” February 8, 1693, CO 28/2, p. 1

99 James Kendall to the Board of Trade, February 10, 1693, CO 28/2, p. 5.

100 “A Proclamation for a Publique Day of Thanksgiveing,” February 8, 1693, CO 28/2, p. 1

101 Dunn, Sugar and Slaves, 328.

102 Francis Russell to the Lords of Trade and Plantations, September 25, 1694, CO 28/2, p. 167; Francis Russell to the Lords of Trade and Plantations, March 23, 1695, CO 28/2, pp. 232–235.

103 “The Reply of Thomas Hodes to the Governor and Council of Barbados,” June 3, 1701, CO 28/6, pp. 72–73.

104 The Board of Trade’s Answer to the Petition of Thomas Hodges, June 3, 1701, CO 28/6, p. 15; Abstract of the Lord Grey’s and Council of Barbados’s Answer to Mr. Hodge’s Complaints,” CO/28/6, June 3, 1701, p. 17.

105 James Kendall to the Board of Trade, February 10, 1693, CO 28/2, p. 5.

106 James Kendall to the Board of Trade, February 10, 1693, CO 28/2, p. 5.

107 Russell to Lords of Trade and Plantations, March 23, 1695, CO 28/2, p. 232.

108 “Some of the Causes That Are Known and Others Supposed to Be the Occasion of the Continuance of the Pestilential Feavers and Great Mortality in Barbados,” May 14, 1700, CO 29/7, pp. 52–54.

109 “Some of the Causes That Are Known and Others Supposed to Be the Occasion of the Continuance of the Pestilential Feavers and Great Mortality in Barbados,” May 14, 1700, CO 29/7, pp. 55–56.

110 “Some of the Causes That Are Known and Others Supposed to Be the Occasion of the Continuance of the Pestilential Feavers and Great Mortality in Barbados,” May 14, 1700, CO 29/7, p. 56.

111 McCusker and Menard, Economy of British America, 154.

112 Burnard, Planters, Merchants, and Slaves, 71.

113 Burnard, “Countrie Continues Sicklie,” 54; Burnard, Planters, Merchants, and Slaves, 63–64.

114 Simon Harcourt-Smith, “‘Yellow Jack’: Caribbean Fever,” History Today 23, no. 9 (1973), 619–620.

115 McCusker and Menard, Economy of British America, 154.

116 Slave Voyages, estimates, www.slavevoyages.org/estimates/RMOCJjcR (accessed May 2021).

117 See for example Curtin, “Epidemiology and the Slave Trade”; Eltis, Rise of African Slavery, 145–149.

118 Curtin, Death by Migration, xvii.

119 Dixcove to Cape Coast, November 20, 1692, in The English in West Africa, 1691-1699, ed. Robin Law (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 8.

120 Fort Cormantine to London, February 4, 1660, with Copy of Letter Sent June 20, 1659, IOR: E/3/26, f.50, in Trade on the Guinea Coast, 52.

121 Davies, “Living and the Dead,” 93.

122 Davies, “Living and the Dead,” 95.

123 Davies, “Living and the Dead,” 94–95.

124 Joshua Platt to London, August 22, 1692, Royal African Company Records, T 70/11, p. 47, National Archives of the United Kingdom.

125 Law, “Dixcove,” in English in West Africa, 16911699, 1.

126 Dixcove to Cape Coast, November 20, 1692, in English in West Africa, 16911699, 8.

127 Davies, “Living and the Dead,” 89.

128 Kenneth Gordon Davies, The Royal African Company (New York: Atheneum, 1970 [1957]), 247.

129 Davies, Royal African Company, 241.

130 Accra to Cape Coast, May 25, 1694 in English in West Africa, 16911699, 528.

131 Accra to Cape Coast, June 20, 1694 in English in West Africa, 16911699, 528.

132 Sekondi to Cape Coast, March 10, 1694 in English in West Africa, 16911699, 119.

133 Davies, Royal African Company, 241.

134 Accra to Cape Coast, September 24, 1695, and July 12, 1697, in English in West Africa, 16911699, 542, 550.

135 Cape Coast to London, July 30, 1697, T 70/11, p. 122.

136 Davies, Royal African Company, 248.

137 Davies, Royal African Company, 242.

138 Davies, Royal African Company, 248.

139 For more on the intensification of warfare and slaving on the Gold Coast in the 1690s, see Chapter 2.

140 Accra to Cape Coast, March 6, 1694, in English in West Africa, 16911699, 525.

141 Accra to Cape Coast, March 8, 1694, in English in West Africa, 16911699, 525.

142 Cape Coast to London, October 8, 1695, T 70/11, p. 118.

143 Accra to Cape Coast, May 25, 1694, and September 24, 1695, in English in West Africa, 16911699, 528, 545.

144 Accra to Cape Coast, July 24, 1695, in English in West Africa, 16911699, 539.

145 Accra to Cape Coast, September 24, 1695, in English in West Africa, 16911699, 542.

146 Accra to Cape Coast, July 12 and July 29, 1697, in English in West Africa, 16911699, 550–551.

147 London to Bencoolen, August 3, 1687, IOR: E/3/91, f. 175v.

148 London to Bencoolen, August 3, 1687, IOR: E/3/91, ff. 175–177v; Madras to Bencoolen, September 8, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, f. 76v., f.83v.

149 For more on the tensions between local factors in Sumatra and the EIC directors, see David Veevers, “‘The Company as Their Lords and the Deputy as a Great Rajah’: Imperial Expansion and the English East India Company on the West Coast of Sumatra, 1685–1730,” Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History 41, no. 5 (2013): 687–709. See also Madras to Bencoolen, February 22, 1686, IOR: G/35/2, f. 44.

150 London to Bencoolen, August 3, 1687, IOR: E/3/91, f. 175.

151 London to Bencoolen, August 3, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, f. 107.

152 Veevers, “‘The Company as Their Lords,’” 697.

153 Bencoolen to Madras, October 2, 1685, IOR: G/35/1, p. 19.

154 Bencoolen to Madras, October 2, 1685, IOR: G/35/1, pp. 5, 15–16 (quotations).

155 Bencoolen to Indrapura, October 1, 1685, IOR: G/35/1, 3; Bencoolen to Madras, October 2, 1685, IOR: G/35/1, 19.

156 Bencoolen to Indrapura, October 1, 1685, IOR: G/35/1, p. 3.

157 Bencoolen to Madras, October 2, 1685, IOR: G/35/1, p. 19.

158 The council at Fort St. George in Madras would later mention the great “Mortallity” of Indian people sent from the Coromandel Coast to Bencoolen in the first year of settlement. See Madras to Indrapura, February 22, 1686, IOR: G/35/2, f. 45.

159 Bencoolen to Indrapura, October 1, 1685, IOR: G/35/1, p. 3.

160 Bencoolen to Indrapura, October [?], 1685, IOR: G/35/1, p. 22.

161 Bencoolen to William Paine, October 2, 1685, IOR: G/35/1, p. 20.

162 Bencoolen to Indrapura, January 18, 1686, IOR: G/35/1, p. 40.

163 A letter from Madras indicates that the soldiers in Bencoolen had become “very refractory & mutinous.” Madras to Bencoolen, September 8, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, f. 84v.

164 Bencoolen Consultation, April 3, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, f. 23.

165 Bencoolen to Madras, October 2, 1685, IOR: G/35/1, p. 19.

166 Indrapura to Bencoolen, October 19, 1685, IOR: G/35/2, ff. 26v–27.

167 Indrapura to Bencoolen, October 19, 1685, IOR: G/35/2, f. 26v.

168 Indrapura to London, August 19, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, f. 66v.

169 Madras to Bencoolen, July 26, 1686, IOR G: 35/35/2, f. 58.

170 Indrapura to London, 19 August 1687, IOR: G/35/2, f. 66v.

171 Hamilton, Account of the East-Indies, vol. 2, 114–115; Madras to Bencoolen, October 24, 1688, IOR: G/35/2, f. 160v; Markus Vink, Encounters on the Opposite Coast: The Dutch East India Company and the Nakaya State of Madurai in the Seventeenth Century (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 510.

172 “Extracts of a Lett. From Mr. Tho. Lucas to Sr. Josiah Child Dates from York Fort at Bencoolen the 30 of March 1687,” IOR: G/35/2, f. 106.

173 Hamilton thought the “malignant vapors” in Sumatra might be caused by the “many Vulcanoes in this island”; Hamilton, Account of the East Indies, vol. 2, 117; William Dampier, A Collection of Voyages …, vol. 2 (London: J. & J. Knapton, 1729), 180. For more on the ways in which the seventeenth-century English connected disease to foul-smelling swamps and bad air in these places, see Dunn, Sugar and Slaves, 303.

174 “Extracts of a Lett. from Mr. Tho. Lucas to Sr. Josiah Child Dates from York Fort at Bencoolen the 30 of March 1687,” IOR: G/35/2, f. 106.

175 “Extracts of a Lett. from Mr. Tho. Lucas to Sr. Josiah Child Dates from York Fort at Bencoolen the 30 of March 1687,” IOR: G/35/2, f. 106.

176 Dampier, Collection of Voyages …, vol. 2, 180.

177 “Extracts of a Lett. from Mr. Tho. Lucas to Sr. Josiah Child Dates from York Fort at Bencoolen the 30 of March 1687,” IOR: G/35/2, f. 105v.

178 The surviving factory records record the number of soldiers who died each month from November 1, 1686, through April 30, 1687. The greatest number of deaths in this period occurred in November of 1686 during the rainy season. See York Fort Consultations, IOR: G/35/1, f. 10, f. 15, f. 16v, f. 19v, f. 22v, f. 23, f. 24v.

179 Arupjyoti Saikia. “Mosquitoes, Malaria, and Malnutrition: The Making of the Assam Tea Plantations” RCC Perspectives no. 3: Asian Environments: Connections across Borders, Landscapes, and Times, (2014), 75.

180 Van der Brug, “Malaria in Batavia,” 892–902; Pols, “Notes from Batavia,” 125.

181 Van der Brug, “Malaria in Batavia,” 894–895; Pols, “Notes from Batavia,” 125.

182 Van der Brug, “Malaria in Batavia,” 895.

183 Webb, Humanity’s Burden, 65.

184 James McSherry, “Dengue,” in Cambridge World History of Disease, ed. Kiple, 660−664.

185 Indrapura to Bencoolen, October 19, 1685, IOR: G/35/2, f. 27.

186 Elzein Fatehi et al., “Pulmonary Manifestation of Plasmodium falciparum Malaria: Case Reports and Review of the Literature,” Respiratory Medicine Case Reports, 22 (2017): 83–86; G. C. Cook notes that an acute infection in someone with no immunity can cause the liver to become “intensely congested and swollen”; see Cook, Malaria in the Liver,” Postgraduate Medical Journal 70 (1994): 781.

187 Indrapura to Bencoolen, October 19, 1685, IOR: G/35/2, f. 26v.

188 Bencoolen to Madras, April 8, 1686, IOR: G/35/1, p. 68.

189 Bencoolen to London, February 6, 1686, IOR: G/35/1, p. 63.

190 Pryaman was eventually established as a factory. Hamilton mentions that it was made subordinate to Bencoolen. See Hamilton, Account of the East Indies, vol. 2, 115; see also London to Pryaman, October 21, 1685, IOR: G/35/2, f. 48v, f. 50v; and Madras to Bencoolen, September 8, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, ff. 76v–77.

191 London to Bencoolen, August 3, 1687, IOR: G/352/2, f. 108.

192 London to Bencoolen, August 3, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, f. 107.

193 London to Bencoolen, August 3, 1687, IOR: G/352/2, f. 108

194 London to Bencoolen, December 30, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, f. 126.

195 London to Bencoolen, August 3, 1687, IOR: G/352/2, f. 121; London to Bencoolen, August 3, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, ff. 107–107v; London to Captain John Harding, August 3, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, f. 95 (quotation).

196 London to Bencoolen, August 3, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, f. 120v.

197 Madras to Indrapura, February 22, 1686, IOR: G/35/2, f.45.

198 London to Captain John Harding, August 3, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, f. 95v.

199 London to Bencoolen, December 30, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, f. 126.

200 Anthony Farrington, “Bengkulu: An Anglo-Chinese Partnership,” in The Worlds of the East India Company, eds. H. V. Bowen, Margarette Lincoln, and Nigel Rigby (New York: University of Leicester, 2002), 114; Bencoolen to London, October 29, 1695, IOR: G/21/7, unpaginated; London to Bencoolen, December 19, 1690, IOR: E/3/92, f. 61; Bencoolen to London, October 26, 1689, IOR/G/21/7, unpaginated.

201 Farrington, “Bengkulu,” 111–118.

202 London to Bencoolen, May 9, 1690, IOR: E/3/92, f.48; London to Bencoolen, December 19, 1690, IOR: E/3/92, f.60v; London to Pryaman, October 21, IOR: G/35/2, 47v; London to Pryaman, January 20, 1686, IOR: G/35/2, f.72–72v; London to Bencoolen, August 31, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, unpaginated.

203 London to Bencoolen, August 3, 1687, IOR: G/35/2, f. 107v (quotation); London to Bencoolen, December 19, 1690, IOR: E/3/92, f.60v.

204 London to Bencoolen, May 9, 1690, IOR: E/3/92, f.48.

205 London to Bencoolen, December 19, 1690, IOR: E/3/92, f. 60v.

206 London to Bencoolen, December 19, 1690, IOR: E/3/92, f. 60v.

207 Dampier, A Collection of Voyages, vol. 2, 180

208 Dampier, A Collection of Voyages, vol. 2, 112.

209 For more on the later history of slavery in Bencoolen, see Richard Allen, “Slavery in a Remote but Global Place: The British East India Company and Bencoolen, 1685–1825,” Social and Education History 7, no. 2 (2018): 153–176; see also Frenise A. Logan, “The British East India Company and African Slavery in Benkulu, Sumatra, 1687–1792,” The Journal of Negro History 41, no. 4 (1956): 339–348.

210 London to Madras, October 3, 1690, IOR: E/3/92, f. 58v.

211 “The Relation of Collonel Doyley upon his return from Jamaica directed to the Lord Chancellor,” [1663], Add Ms. 11410, ff. 10v, 12, British Library.

212 “The Relation of Collonel Doyley upon His Return from Jamaica Directed to the Lord Chancellor,” [1663], Add Ms. 11410, f. 12.

213 Bencoolen to London, October 8, 1686, IOR: G/21/7, unpaginated.

214 Bencoolen to London, October 8, 1686, IOR: G/21/7, unpaginated.

215 “Voyage of the Macclesfield to and from Borneo” [1701–1702], Ms Rawl. C. 841, f. 9, Bodleian Library.

216 Simon Newman, Freedom Seekers: Escaping from Slavery in Restoration London (London: University of London Press, 2022), 48.

217 London to Bencoolen, May 9, 1690, IOR: E/3/92, f. 47.

218 Campbell, “Malaria in Precolonial Malagasy History,” 133-134.

219 Campbell, “Malaria in Precolonial Malagasy History,” 130, 159–160; Hooper and Eltis, “Indian Ocean in Transatlantic Slavery,” 363; Arne Bialuscheski, “Pirates, Slavers and the Indigenous Population in Madagascar, c. 1690-1715,” International Journal of African Historical Studies 38, no. 3 (2005): 414-418.

220 See Chapter 2.

221 Bencoolen to London, April 14, 1701, IOR: G/21/7, unpaginated; Bencoolen to Indrapura, October 1, 1685, IOR: G/35/1, p. 3; Bencoolen to Madras, October 2, 1685, IOR: G/35/1, p. 19; Bencoolen to Madras, January 26, 1686, IOR: G/35/1, p. 44; Bencoolen to London, February 6, 1686, IOR: G/35/1, p. 63. Smallpox also took its toll on the Malagasy, particularly in 1704. See Bencoolen to London, January 2, 1708, IOR: G/35/6, p. 362.

Accessibility standard: Unknown

Accessibility compliance for the HTML of this book is currently unknown and may be updated in the future.

Save book to Kindle

To save this book to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.g.sjuku.top is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part of your Kindle email address below. Find out more about saving to your Kindle.

Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations. ‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi. ‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.

Find out more about the Kindle Personal Document Service.

  • Fevers
  • Justin Roberts, Dalhousie University, Nova Scotia
  • Book: Fragile Empire
  • Online publication: 19 December 2024
  • Chapter DOI: https://doi.org/10.1017/9781108622288.007
Available formats
×

Save book to Dropbox

To save content items to your account, please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies. If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account. Find out more about saving content to Dropbox.

  • Fevers
  • Justin Roberts, Dalhousie University, Nova Scotia
  • Book: Fragile Empire
  • Online publication: 19 December 2024
  • Chapter DOI: https://doi.org/10.1017/9781108622288.007
Available formats
×

Save book to Google Drive

To save content items to your account, please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies. If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account. Find out more about saving content to Google Drive.

  • Fevers
  • Justin Roberts, Dalhousie University, Nova Scotia
  • Book: Fragile Empire
  • Online publication: 19 December 2024
  • Chapter DOI: https://doi.org/10.1017/9781108622288.007
Available formats
×