(1)
Ignatius
Sancho, letter to Laurence
Sterne (July,
1776)
It would be an insult
on your humanity (or perhaps look like it) to apologize for the
liberty I am taking. I am one of those people whom the vulgar and
illiberal call 'Niggers.' The first part of my life was rather unlucky,
as I was placed in a family who judged ignorance the best and only
security for obedience. A little reading and writing I got by unwearied
application. The latter part of my life has been thro' God's blessing,
truly fortunate, having spent it in the service of one of the best
families in the kingdom. My chief pleasure has been books. Philanthropy
I adore. How very much, good Sir, am I (amongst millions) indebted
to you for the character of your amiable uncle Toby! I declare,
I would walk ten miles in the dog-days, to shake hands with the
honest corporal. Your Sermons have touched me to the heart, and
I hope have amended it, which brings me to the point. In your tenth
discourse, page seventy-eight, in the second volume - is the very
affecting passage - 'Consider how great a part of our species -
in all ages down to this - have been trod under the feet of
cruel and capricious tyrants, who would neither hear their cries,
nor pity their distresses. Consider slavery - what it is - how bitter
a draught and how many millions are made to drink it!' Of all my
favourite authors, not one has drawn a tear in favour of my miserable
black brethren—excepting yourself, and the humane author of
Sir George Ellison. I think you will forgive me; I am sure you will
applaud me for beseeching you to give one half-hour's attention
to slavery, as it is at this day practised in our West Indies. That
subject, handled in your striking manner, would ease the yoke (perhaps)
of many - but if only of one - Gracious God! - what a feast to a
benevolent heart! - and, sure I am, you are an epicurean in acts
of charity. You, who are universally read, and as universally admired
- you could not fail. Dear Sir, think in me you behold the uplifted
hands of thousands of my brother Moors.
(2)
Ignatius
Sancho, letter
(January,
1778)
Full heartily and most
cordially do I thank thee, for your kindness in sending the books.
That upon the unchristian and most diabolical usage of my brother
Negroes - the illegality - the horrid wickedness of the traffic
- the cruel carnage and depopulation of the human species - is painted
in such strong colours - that I should think would (if duly attended
to) flash conviction - and produce remorse in every enlightened
and candid reader. The perusal affected me more than I can express;
- and indeed I felt a double or mixed sensation - for while my heart
was torn for the sufferings - which, for aught I know - some of
my nearest kin might have undergone - my bosom, at the same time,
glowed with gratitude - and praise toward the humane - the Christian
- the friendly and learned author of that most valuable book.
(3)
Ignatius
Sancho, letter
(1778)
I am sorry to observe
that the practice of your country (which as a resident I love -
and for its freedom, and for the many blessings I enjoy in it, shall
ever have my warmest wishes, prayers, and blessings): I say it is
with reluctance that I must observe your country's conduct has been
uniformly wicked in the East West Indies - and even on the coast
of Guinea. The grand object of English navigators - indeed of all
Christian navigators - is money - money - money - for which I do
not pretend to blame them. Commerce was meant by the goodness of
the Deity to diffuse the various goods of the earth into every part
- to unite mankind in the blessed chains of brotherly love, society,
and mutual dependence: the enlightened Christian should diffuse
the Riches of the Gospel of peace, with the commodities of his respective
land. Commerce attended with strict honesty, and with Religion for
its companion, would be a blessing to every shore it touched at.
In Africa, the poor, wretched natives - blessed with the most fertile
and luxuriant soil - are rendered so much the more miserable for
what Providence meant as a blessing - the Christians' abominable
Traffic for slaves - and the horrid cruelty and treachery of the
petty Kings - encouraged by their Christian customers - who carry
them strong liquors, to enflame their national madness - and powder
and bad fire-arms, to furnish them
(4)
Ignatius
Sancho, Letters of Sancho (1782)
I shall
take no notice of the tricking fraudulent behaviour of the
driver of the stage - as how he wanted to palm a bad shilling upon
us - and as how they stopped us in the town, and most generously
insulted us - and as how they took up - a fat old man - his wife
fat too - and child - and after keeping us half an hour in sweet
converse of the - of the blasting kind - how that the fat woman
waxed wrath with her plump master, for his being serene - and how
that he caught choler at her friction, tongue-wise - how he ventured
his head out of the coach-door, and swore liberally - whilst his
—— in direct line with poor S——n's nose - entertained
him with sound and sweetest of exhalations - I shall say nothing
of being two hours almost on our journey - neither do I remark that
S——n turned
sick before we left G——, nor that the child p——
upon his legs - in short it was near nine before we got into Charles
Street.
(5)
In a letter to a friend, Ignatius
Sancho wrote about the Gordon Riots (1780)
There is at this present
moment at least a hundred thousand poor, miserable, ragged rabble,
from twelve to sixty years of age, with blue cockades in their hats
- besides half as many women and children - all parading the streets
- the bridge - the park - ready for any and every mischief. Gracious
God! - what's the matter now? I was obliged to leave off - the shouts
of the mob - the horrid clashing of swords - and the clutter of
a multitude in swiftest motion - drew me to the door - when every
one in the street was employed in shutting up shop. It is now just
five o'clock. This instant about two thousand liberty boys are swearing
and swaggering by with large sticks... Thank heaven, it rains; may
it increase, so as to send these deluded
wretches safe to their homes, their families, and wives!
(6)
J. T. Smith, Nolleckens and
his Times (1828)
As we pushed the wicket door, a little tinkling bell, the usual
appendage to such shops, announced its opening: we drank
tea with Sancho and his black lady, who was seated, when we entered,
in the corner of the shop, chopping sugar, surrounded by her little
'Sanchonets'. Sancho, knowing Mr. Nollekens to be a loyal man, said
to him, 'I am sure you will be pleased to hear that Lord George
Gordon is taken, and that a party of the guards is now escorting
him in an old ramshackled coach to the Tower.' Nollekens said not
a word, and poor Sancho either did not know, or not recollect, that
he was addressing
a Papist.
