Enslaved and Indigenous people: Reading against the grain in the colonial archive

Reading against the grain

As a legacy of Britain’s colonial past, The National Archives holds records documenting people and places from across the world. The collection holds vast amounts of correspondence and paperwork documenting the actions of the British colonial government, its trade, and its interactions with the peoples it ruled. Most colonial records were created by governors, administrators, politicians and merchants. As archives reflect the perspectives and values of their creators, these records typically privilege the viewpoint of colonisers rather than the colonised. This has prompted scholarly critiques about the limitations, silences, and forms of violence embedded in the colonial archive, and how engaging with it can reproduce those harms.

Despite these constraints, it is still possible to read against the grain to recover aspects of the lived experiences of those subjected to colonial rule. Reading against the grain involves interpreting and using documents in ways they were not intended to be used. In many cases, these records provide the only surviving documentary evidence of thousands of lives. In the following article, we read against the grain of three records to obtain an understanding of peoples colonised under British rule.

Trade and Indigenous power in merchant records

The Fante are one of the largest subgroups of Akan people in West Africa, based mainly in what is now central and western Ghana. During the early colonisation of the region (1672–1821), which was referred to as the Gold Coast, the Fante were in sustained contact with the British colonisers. This included governors, merchants, and labourers of the Royal African Company and its successor, the Company of Merchants Trading to Africa.

We the Braffoe and Curanteers, the priests and people of Fantee do declare that our fathers under the conduit of their Braffoe Imorah were brought by the English from the country now Arcania, and by them furnished with arms, ammunition, and money, not only to take possession of the lands now inhabited by us, but likewise to conquer all those little states around us at present, subject to our dominion. And whereas we are certainly informed that within these ten years past several subjects of the French king had been endeavouring, by bribes of various kinds, not only to dissolve that close connection between English & Fante, which we look upon as a greatest security, but likewise to procure themselves some of that ground which was conquered by the English expense, and which besides the natural injustice of the thing can have no other tendency than to introduce jarring interests and divisions amongst us and thereby deliver up an easy prey to our enemies. For these reasons and to recognise the pretensions of any other nation whatsoever, we the whole people of Fante did on the 26th of October last assemble at Munnim [?] and there unanimously passed the following law which we publicly declare to be constitutional. And hereby according to the wonted form of our ancestors denounced a curse upon ourselves or any of our posterity who shall attempt either directly or indirectly to break through it, which law is as follows: “Be it known to all the people of Fante and to all under their obedience, that we the Braffoe & curanteers, the priests and people of Fantee do enact and ordain that no subject of the French King shall ever be permitted to settle anywhere, either by building forts, or otherwise, between Queen Anne’s Point and James Fort Accra and that whoever attempts to harbour them in his house, shall on proof of the fact be judged guilty of Treason against his country and punished accordingly.

And as a further proof and testimony of the reality of our intentions and to secure as far as in us lie the English interest in this country and to engage them by our candid behaviour to continue us that protection which by long experience we have found so beneficial. We the afforesaid Braffoe and Curanteers, the priests and people of Fante have judged it proper and necessary to send the following persons Viz: Imorah, son to Actuafor Braffoe of Fante, Oquitta son to Acrampa Lieutenant General to all Fante, Aquando, Quow Upmoah [?], Acriphy, Immiah Curranteers or Senatores, Aufuah, son to Aquanoo, Curranteer Seki son to Faki [?] Priest of Bura Bura Wiga likewise the following caboceers and captains Viz Agree Quampoe, Cudjoe Acriphy, Agiam [?], Quashee, Adoom, Quaboo, Quamino Afoor, Quashee Cooma, Quamino Benti, Quabinaran [?], Yacoo, Quow Abiadoo, Coffee Abrimah, Abancoo, John Coffee, Quambee due & fully authorised to Cape Coast Castle and there in presence of President in Council to swear allegiance and fidelity to the English nation and to deliver the following hostages vizt: Cudjoe Anooma sister’s son to the Braffoe of Fante from the said Braffoe and and Curranteers; likewise Quabino Sake, Quacoo & Coffee into their hands to remain as pledges of our punctual observance, of the above law. We the aforementioned for said mentioned persons, deputies from the Braffoes and Curranteers, the priests and people of Fante being duly and fully authorised, have according to the custom of our country and the form prescribed by our religion, as likewise according to the custom of the English nation and the form prescribed by their religion, sworn to the due performance of the said law. I have in inconsequence set our marks to two originals of this recognition, being first read and interpreted to us in presence of the said President and Council this sixth day of February one thousand seven hundred and fifty three, According to White Mens manner of computing time in Europe.

The above recognition was executed in Cape Coast Castle by persons therein mentioned the day & year above written in presence of George Cockburne[?], Thomas Melville, Joseph Harmer, Matthew Mackaile and Chris Whytell.

This document is a copy of an agreement between the Company of Merchants and Fante leaders in 1753. Fante leaders were called to the company headquarters at Cape Coast Castle to sign an agreement to exclude the French, one of Britain’s main trading rivals, from settling in the region. According to the document,

Although the text was written by an English clerk and does not show the physical presence of the Fante leaders, a related document elsewhere in the series preserves their original marks. Torn into eight pieces, and recently rediscovered through a cataloguing project, it records the same agreement along with the individual marks of each leader in the form of an ‘x’. These marks are an unusually tangible trace of African presence in the 18th-century colonial archive. The names of Fante leaders included Agree Quampoe, Cudjoe Acriphy, Quashee Cooma, Quamino Benti and Coffee Abrimah, who were all caboceers (local rulers or village headmen).

Traditionally, in Europe, illiterate people would use a mark in the form of an ‘x’ instead of a signature to signal their agreement. However, for 18th‑century West Africans, a mark on paper did not necessarily carry the same legal meaning. Other points in the text are more indicative of the Fante’s endorsement of this agreement. To demonstrate their loyalty, the Fante presented four hostages that served as pledges of their observance to the new law to exclude the French. Hostages or pawns were part of the system of pawnship, a West African tradition where pawns represented a pledge that a debt would be repaid or a promise honoured. The archival record does not reveal what happened to these pawns, underscoring the limits of the colonial paper trail.

These documents make clear that Fante leaders exercised significant power and agency. They played a decisive role in shaping British-African relations and determining which European powers could establish trading posts along the West African coast.

Poison and enslaved resistance in colonial correspondence

By the late 17th century, Barbados had become the largest slave economy in the English empire (which became the British empire with the Act of Union in 1707). Sugar production in Barbados was dependent on the labour of around 40,000 enslaved people.

To colonial administrators, such large, enslaved populations posed a constant security threat. Poisonings were rarely detected but remained a persistent fear among planters (plantation owners), who knew that enslaved people often possessed extensive knowledge of herbal medicine.

An 1829 letter from James Lyon, Governor of Barbados, to Sir George Murray, Secretary of State for War and the Colonies, describes the case of an enslaved woman, Bynoe (also known as Sabina). Bynoe was accused of harming her mistress ‘by infusing some poisonous substance into her chocolate’.

With regard to the latter / Bynoe or Sabina / as I find from unquestionable testimony, that her mistress whom she endeavoured to injure by infusing some poisonous substance into her chocolate, still labours under the effects of the deleterious substance so administered, I am of opinion that the ends of Justice would be defeated, were any remission of the sentence advised in her case – I shall therefore at the next meeting of the House of Assembly make the necessary application for her being transported to Bermuda for life. The guilt of this woman I may add was established principally by her own confession – the Superstitious rites of “Obeah” are quite incomprehensible to me, nor can I from information acquaint myself with the various ramifications of so extensive a crime – But the fact is fairly and clearly established of the slave “Bynoe” having administered what she called “Love powders” to her mistress – which powders had the deleterious effects already mentioned.

Viewing this case through Lyon’s perspective makes it challenging to identify Bynoe’s intentions. Lyon claimed that the case was related to the practice of Obeah, traditions originating in Africa associated with magic, healing and poisoning. He wrote that ‘the Superstitious rites of “Obeah” are quite incomprehensible to me’. In the letter, Lyon crossed out the word superstitious. It is surprising that he hesitated to diminish the spiritual practices of Obeah and acknowledged his ignorance on the subject.

Lyon wrote that ‘the guilt of this woman I may add was established principally by her own confession’. However, we do not know whether Bynoe really intended to ‘confess’ to poisoning. She described the substance as ‘love powders’, suggesting that the poisoning may have been accidental. Obeah is often associated with love spells, but longstanding anti-Obeah laws across the Caribbean demonstrate that Lyon’s assumption that Obeah was a dangerous practice was widespread among colonists. An earlier letter in this volume records that Bynoe was ‘convicted for the crime of Obeah’ which led to her being jailed a few years earlier in 1826. Her association with Obeah likely reinforced the interpretation of Bynoe’s act as ‘poisoning’.

Often dosage is the only difference between poison and medicine. Western medical understandings of the terms 'poison' and 'toxic' are often at odds with understandings of the healing properties of medicinal and culinary substances. As with many cases preserved in state archives, we know this story only because of how government officials documented it. The record shows that Bynoe had access to her mistress’s drink and that the substance she used had lasting effects. Her actions could be read as a form of resistance - under oppressive conditions she was able to inflict harm, feeding into planters’ fears of poisoning.

The colonial lens in copyright records

From the 15th century, Newfoundland attracted European interest through the lucrative cod trade. Officially annexed in 1583, it became one of Britain’s earliest colonies. By 1715, English merchants dominated the trade. These merchants relied on indentured labour (a fixed term contract of work without a salary) from South West England or the southern coast of Ireland, picking workers up on the journey across the ocean. This trade propped up transatlantic slavery, providing foodstuffs for enslaved people. The heavily salted and low-grade fish was packed into barrels for transportation to the Caribbean.

Visual material in the archive can provide rich information on the cod trade and Newfoundland. One such record is an early 20th‑century photograph from COPY 1, a collection of visual material registered at the Stationer’s Company. The caption reads ‘Group of Esquimaux taken in northern Labrador’ and the proprietor of the copyright is Edwin Holloway of Holloway Studios in St. John’s, Newfoundland. The caption uses the term Esquimaux, a French-derived word that was historically used by Europeans to describe Indigenous peoples living in Arctic regions, sometimes anglicised as 'Eskimo'. In Newfoundland and Labrador today, there are four peoples of Indigenous ancestry: the Inuit, the Innu, the Mi'kmaq and the Southern Inuit of NunatuKavut.

In the photograph, we see a group of people by a wooden fence. They are all dressed in heavy and hard-wearing materials suited for cold weather. The image appears to have been manipulated, with a hand or glove placed on the crown of the central figure’s head. It looks like the portion of the image above the group was removed by the photographer during the developing of the image.

The indiscriminate use of ’Esquimaux’ to describe diverse Indigenous groups means that the individuals depicted are difficult to identify. It is unclear who the people in the photograph are, or how they would have wanted to be identified or represented.

By the time this photograph was registered for copyright in 1911, more than 80 years had passed since Shanawdithit, the last known Beothuk, died in 1829. European colonisation had devastated the Beothuk, the Indigenous people of Newfoundland, through violence, displacement and disease. Those pictured may be Inuit people whose communities were significantly impacted by European settlement, pointing to a more complex history of movement and migration in Newfoundland during this period. Although closer relationships developed between the colonists and indigenous people through trade, these communities remained vulnerable to disease that travelled from Europe, and dependent on natural resources, such as fur and cod.

From the late 19th century, the Colonial Secretary requested photographs of overseas territories and ‘various races’ to be sent to the Colonial Office. Whilst this record is not part of this Colonial Office project, it reveals a wider commercial interest in images of Indigenous people. It highlights the extractive, commercial approach of colonialists, as the use of photography became more common. While photographs can be seen as reliable and valuable sources for historians, the use of photography to record colonised peoples operated as an imperial technology, shaping and controlling how Indigenous lives were represented through a colonial lens. Reading this source against the grain requires us to consider how those depicted experienced the encounter, whether they consented to being photographed, and how systems of ownership meant the studio, rather than the subjects, controlled the image.

This record highlights both the value and limits of historic photography. It offers rare visual traces of Indigenous lives, while also exposing gaps in our knowledge. The apparent manipulation of the photograph raises questions about what made such images commercially valuable in the 20th century. Crucially, engaging responsibly with this material requires expertise from those who belong to the communities represented, whose knowledge, perspectives, and cultural frameworks are essential to understanding what the archive obscures as well as what it reveals.

The colonial archive is a record of the coloniser, yet it bears the traces of those subjugated by colonial rule. Whether a visual source, physical mark, or action reported by an anxious coloniser, these examples show that the identity and agency of Indigenous and enslaved people inform and underpin The National Archives’ global collections. Encounters with Indigenous and enslaved people in the archive are not static or silent. However, recovering something of their lived experience under British rule within the archives often depends on asking questions that surface their presence, and reading records against the grain.