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09 Aug 2023

Victor WilsonCommerce in DisguiseWar and Trade in the Caribbean Free Port of Gustavia, 1793–1815Victor Wilson | Commerce in Disguise | 2015Victor WilsonCommerce in DisguiseWar and Trade in the Caribbean FreePort of Gustavia, 1793–1815The thesis studies the economic role of the freeport of Gustavia on the island of St. Barthélemy,the Swedish colony in the Caribbean, during theFrench Revolutionary Wars of 1793–1815.Departing from an unexplored source material, thestudy shows that Gustavia attained a temporary yetexceptional position during the period of international conflict, which showed in the sizeable flowsof cargo in transit through the Swedish colony aswell as the increasing shipping under the Swedishflag in the region.Åbo Akademis förlag | Åbo Akademi University Press ISBN 978-951-765-806-59 789517 658065Victor WilsonBorn 1984.Masters degree in history, Åbo Akademi University, 2010.Åbo Akademis förlag | Åbo Akademi University PressTavastgatan 13, FI–20500 Åbo, FinlandPhone: +358 (0) 2 215 3478E-mail: forlaget@abo.fiSales and distribution:Åbo Akademis bibliotek | Åbo Akademi University LibraryDomkyrkogatan 2-4, FI–20500 Åbo, FinlandPhone: +358 (0) 215 4190E-mail: publikationer@abo.fiCover image: Vue de la ville Gustavia dans l’isle Saint-Barthélemy(ca. 1790–1805) Courtesy of Uppsala University Library.COMMERCE IN DISGUISE

Commerce in Disguise
War and Trade in the Caribbean Free Port of Gustavia, 1793–1815
Victor Wilson
Åbo Akademis förlag | Åbo Akademi University Press
Åbo, Finland, 2015
CIP Cataloguing in Publication
Wilson, Victor.
Commerce in disguise : war and trade
in the Caribbean free port of Gustavia,
1793–1815 / Victor Wilson. – Åbo : Åbo
Akademi University Press, 2015.
Diss.: Åbo Akademi University.
ISBN 978-951-765-806-5
ISBN 978-951-765-806-5
ISBN 978-951-765-807-2 (digital)
Painosalama Oy
Åbo 2015
Table of contents
Table of contents i
Illustrations, tables, figures and abbreviations iii
Acknowledgements vii
1 Introduction 12
1.1 Images of a Prosperous Port Town 12
1.2 Topical Research, Perspectives and Theory 19
1.3 Questions, Prospectus, and Methodology 31
2 The Free Port Institution of Gustavia 40
2.1 A History of Free Trade in the Circum-Caribbean 40
2.2 Swedish Colonialism and the Foundation of Gustavia 56
2.3 Colonial Ambitions and Colonial Realities 100
3 Gustavia in the Atlantic and Regional Slave Trade 144
3.1 Slave Trade Connections 144
3.2 An Assessment of the Gustavia Slave Trade 162
4 Gustavia and the Caribbean Transit Trade, 1793–1809 176
4.1 A Growing Free Trade Outpost, 1793–1801 176
4.2 The Transit Trade after the British occupation of 1801 199
5 An Anglo-American Port of Convenience, 1809–1815 212
5.1 The Non-Intercourse Act of 1809 214
5.2 The War of 1812 223
5.3 Epilogue: The Peace of 1815 and Ambiguous Decline 230
6 Commerce in Disguise – Conclusions 249
Swedish Summary – Sammanfattning 257
Appendices 265
Bibliography 291

Illustrations, tables, figures and
abbreviations

Tables and Figures
Table 2.1 Population structure of St. Barthélemy, 1765–1897 ……………………… 86
Table 2.2 Yearly capital accounts of the Swedish West India Company, 1790–
1805, in Swedish rixdollars …………………………………………………………………….. 105
Table 3.1 Categories of Slave Trade Organization and Affiliation …………….. 166
Table 3.2 Categories of Slaving Voyage Outcomes ………………………………….. 167
Table 3.3 Slave Ships by Category ………………………………………………………….. 169
Table 3.4 Slaves by Category …………………………………………………………………. 169
Figure 3.2 Slaves by Category, Chronology 1785–1839 ………………………………. 169
Table 3.5 Slave Ships by Destination ……………………………………………………….. 171
Table 3.6 Slaves by Destination ………………………………………………………………. 172
Figure 4.1 St. Barthélemy customs revenues 1791–1825 …………………………….. 179
Figure 4.2 Issued sea-passes for St. Thomas and St. Barthélemy vessels, 1788–
1807 ………………………………………………………………………………………………………182
Figure 4.3 Tonnage of shipping entering at the British Caribbean free ports,
1788–95 …………………………………………………………………………………………………. 185
Figure 4.4 Total registered value of imports from foreign colonies and the
United States to the British Caribbean free ports, 1792–95 ……………………… 186
Figure 4.5 Values of American exports to Caribbean and South American
colonies, 1790–1808………………………………………………………………………………. 190
Figure 4.6 Proportions of US exports to Caribbean and South American
colonies, 1790–1808……………………………………………………………………………….. 191
Figure 4.7 Estimated values of US exports to Swedish, Danish and Dutch
ports in the Caribbean, 1790–1808 …………………………………………………………. 192
Table 4.1 Gustavia arrivals, Flags of Vessels, 1804–1806 ………………………….. 202
Table 4.2 Gustavia arrivals, Ports of departure, 1804–1806 ……………………… 202
Figure 4.8 Ports of departure of arriving American ships, 1804–06 …………. 204
Figure 5.1 Values of American exports to Caribbean and South American
colonies, 1790–1820 ………………………………………………………………………………. 218
Figure 5.2 Proportions of American exports to Caribbean colonies, 1790–1820
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………. 219
Figure 5.3 Arrivals, St. Barthélemy 1811–1813, by nationality ……………………… 226
Figure 5.4 Tonnage of arrivals, St. Barthélemy 1811–1813, by nationality…….. 227
Maps and Illustrations
Figure 1.1 St. Barthélemy ca. 1800 …………………………………………………………….. x
Figure 1.2 The Lesser Antilles ………………………………………………………………….. 11
Figure 1.3 The Leeward Islands and their polities, ca. 1785 …………………………. 35
Figure 2.1 Urban development of Gustavia, 1792–1799 ……………………………… 88
Figure 3.1 La Maison d’Esclaves ………………………………………………………………… 151

Abbreviations
ADM Admiralty (National Archives, London)
ANOM Archives Nationales d’Outre-Mer (Aix-en-Provence)
BT Board of Trade (The National Archives, London)
CO Colonial Office (The National Archives, London)
DNA Danish National Archives (Rigsarkivet, København)
FO Foreign Office (The National Archives, London)
FSB Fonds Suédois de Saint Barthélemy
NARA National Archives and Records Administration (Washington)
PRO Public Record Office (The National Archives, London)
SNA Swedish National Archives (Riksarkivet, Stockholm)
TNA The National Archives, London, United Kingdom
UUL Uppsala University Library (Uppsala universitetsbibliotek)
WO War Office (The National Archives, London)

Acknowledgements
During my work with this thesis, I have accrued a large number of debts. It
would not even have seen the light of day had it not been for professor Holger
Weiss, who believed in me enough to finally convince myself that I was equal
to the task at hand. His energy and enthusiasm has propelled myself as well as
other fellow researchers towards the work and craft of the historian. A special
mention should also be afforded to Jan-Erik Till for largely the same reasons.
Tilli’s inspirational education and encouragement are the sources for my
initial interest in history.
I cannot recount how many debts I owe to my second supervisor, PhD.
Fredrik Thomasson. Suffice it to say, this thesis would look much different if
it had not been for the different efforts and qualities of Fredrik. Sealed
archives would have remained under lock and key, obstinate institutions
would have been unyielding, and technical and linguistic barriers would have
been insurmountable in the time allotted to complete this text.
The work with this thesis would not have been materially possible without
the generous grant of the Academy of Finland, which founded the EGL
project of which I am part. I have been especially privileged to travel
extensively to foreign archives and sites which has been absolutely essential.
for the results of the study. Additional grants were supplied in the first year
of my work by Svenska litteratursällskapet, Ragnar, Ester, Rolf och Margareta
Bergboms fond, and Waldemar von Frenckells fond. The early travel grant by
Åbo Akademis jubileumsfond 1968 made an initial sojourn in the Swedish
National Archives possible, during which I started to acquaint myself with
the Swedish history of St. Barthélemy.
During that first visit, I met briefly with Per Tingbrand, whose mammoth
efforts in uncovering, cataloguing, and recording the extant archival sources
have been invaluable for myself as well as other researchers. I am sorry for not
having the opportunity of discussing St. Barthélemy at length with you.
Suffice it to say, a large part of the primary research done before the
completion of this thesis would not have been possible without your efforts.
I owe you my most heartfelt gratitude.
During my research trips abroad I have benefited from friends and family
with an open home and place to rest. I would like to especially thank Emil and
Sofia Sandholm in Stockholm who took care of me despite that I occupied.
most of their living-room space for several months at a time. I would also like
to thank Anders Huldin and family for housing me in Stockholm during the
same period, as well as my sister Lotta Wilson-Bruun and family who saw to
my accommodation in a stint at the Danish National Archives in
Copenhagen. I would also like to thank the aid and assistance of
acquaintances connected to different archival institutions and libraries. The
help and expertise of Jean-Yves Dissais with the old Swedish municipal
archive of St. Barthélemy, housed at the ANOM in Aix-en-Provence, has
been invaluable to the digital reproduction of it, and in extension to mine and
fellow researchers’ projects. Jacques Dion deserves thanks for making the
whole process possible in the first place. Anne Lebel thankfully provided the
possibility of a sojourn at the ADM in Gourbeyre, Guadeloupe, whereas
Gerard Lafleur took good care of an itinerant researcher during his first visit
in a Caribbean island. Arlette Magras made sure that I found my way around
St. Barthélemy and the peculiar traces of its Swedish history. To Han Jordaan
I owe many of my insights into the history of St. Eustatius and its sources. It
was a valuable and enjoyable experience to collaborate and work with you, as
well as with Jessica Vance Roitman and Gert Oostindie. I thank the latter two
for their diligence and patience during a late book project. I take the
opportunity also to thank my colleague Ale Pålsson of Stockholm University,
who has also worked with a thesis of his own about the history of St.
Barthélemy, and who has accompanied me during long hours of photography
and cataloguing of the archives in Aix-en-Provence, as well as the 2013 ACH
conference in Belize.
When I have occasionally shown up in the corridors of the history
department of Åbo Akademi University, I have always found myself
surrounded with helpful and resourceful colleagues. The historical research
seminar has always been a source of useful dialogue and reflection, assisted by
the meeting of widely differing topics and research themes. I would like to
direct special thanks to Professor Nils-Erik Villstrand as one of the leading
voices of this seminar, as well the particular insights he has offered me as an
expert on Swedish history. Other teachers and mentors which deserve
mentioning both for their aid during my work with this thesis as well as during
my years as an undergraduate are Laura Hollsten, Rolf Enander, Ann-Catrin
Östman, and Joachim Mickwitz.
My colleagues have made life as a PhD student brighter. I would like to
especially thank Stefan Norrgård and Anna Sundelin for their genial manner
when I first started to settle down at a desk at our department, and also
Miriam Rönnqvist for our frank discussions about work and working life.
During our coffee breaks, I have found invaluable advice, support, as well as
general amusement in the office next door, which also doubles as a coffee
room. Frequenters and (un)fortunate occupants of said room include, but is
not limited to: Mats Wickström, Robert Lindberg, Patrik Hettula, Oscar
Winberg, Matias Kaihovirta, Hanna Lindberg, Johanna Wassholm, Anders
Ahlbäck, Janne Väistö, and Fredrik Petersson.
At last I would to thank my family which has supported me through the
years, despite my constant absent-mindedness and preoccupations while
immersed in this project. I thank my parents Bo-Gustav and Helena Wilson
for their unflinching support. My sister Anna Sjöblom deserves thanks as a
key person that finally convinced me to continue working with what I enjoy
most. At last I would like to thank my own family. My wife Sara has had to
put up with a lot of my idiosyncrasies during the years, but she has never
wavered in her support for me. Our sons Åke and Allan, born in 2013 and 2015,
have offered a healthy perspective on life during the last years spent putting
this text together.
Backgränd, Karis
December 2015
Figure 1.1 St. Barthélemy ca. 1800
Source: Samuel Fahlberg, Charta öfver Ön St. Barthélemy, 1801, Krigsarkivet.

Figure 1.2 The Lesser Antilles
12
1 Introduction
1.1 Images of a Prosperous Port Town
In October 1805, the British lawyer James Stephen published the legal
polemic War in Disguise; or, the Frauds of the Neutral Flags. While the
principal target of Stephen’s treatise was the burgeoning neutral American
carrying trade, other minor neutral trading nations did not escape his
arguments and invectives. Stephen claimed that “Denmark and Sweden
each possessed islands in the West Indies”, St. Thomas and St.
Barthélemy, “which might be made entrepôts between their European
dominions and the French colonies”.1
The island of St. Barthélemy had since the initial Swedish acquisition.
become the home of an international mercantile community which was
centered in a new town, christened Gustavia after king Gustav III. Shortly
after the first Swedish settlement, the town was proclaimed a free port. In
1800 the island had reached its demographic apex of 6,000 inhabitants. In
terms of its population, Gustavia became one the largest cities in the
Swedish kingdom. In 1819, four years after the end of the great European
conflict, Olof Erik Bergius published Om Westindien, a general overview of
the West Indies, based in large part on his experience as colonial judge in
the Swedish colony of St. Barthélemy. His depiction of the regional trade
conducted from the island’s free port of Gustavia essentially confirmed
Stephen’s assumptions. During the late war, asserted Bergius, the local
merchants had “supplied the French colonies with French wines, the
English islands with American timber, the United States with English and

1
James Stephen, War in Disguise; or, the Frauds of the Neutral Flags (London: C. Whittingham,
1805), 38.
13
East Indian merchandise, France with St. Domingo coffee etc.” While he
hardly defined this trade in more precise political and legal terms, it would
have no doubt been just the kind of commercial activity that Stephen
would have termed ‘war in disguise’.2
Stephen called for the abolition of the carrying trade of neutral nations,
with special reference to the commerce between France’s Caribbean
islands and Europe. Having practiced at the bar in the Vice Admiralty
Court of St. Kitts, he had had the opportunity to witness contraband trade
in the Caribbean under the guise of neutral flags. He was also a member of
parliament, and the ideas he espoused in War in Disguise became the basis
of British commercial warfare against France, embodied in the Orders in
Council of 1807. It was passed in order to keep any neutral nations from
trading between enemy ports. It was answered in France the same year
with the Milan Decree, which declared that all neutral shipping using
British ports, or paying British tariffs, were to be regarded as British and
as such seized and condemned. Despite this state of affairs, the trade of
Gustavia ostensibly flourished.
For Stephen and his peers, neutral transit trade constituted a kind of
clandestine warfare, but reality belied such simple distinctions. The
profusion of shipping routes and trade flows described by Bergius can
hardly be characterized as a commercial movement that exclusively served
the interests of a single national interest. Free ports were by definition
open to ships of all nations, and were exploited by the commercial actors
of all nations. The Dutch free port colonies of Curaçao and St. Eustatius
as well as the Danish colony of St. Thomas had since the 17th century been
international emporiums of free trade in the region, and its inhabitants
shared a renowned history of smuggling and interloping throughout the
Western Hemisphere. Free trade in this context refers to the trade that
transgressed national and imperial borders throughout the history of
colonial societies in the Americas, irrespective if it was regarded as legal or

2
Olof Erik Bergius, Om Westindien (Stockholm: Gadelius, 1819). For a brief but insightful
analysis of the work and its influences, see Harald Elovsson, Amerika i svensk litteratur 1750–
1820: en studie i komparativ litteraturhistoria (Lund: Gleerup, 1930), 123–24, 284–287.
14
illegal. Historians have in recent times tended to speak about “informal
economies” as a catch-all category, instead of limiting the discussion to
definition-defying phenomena such as smuggling or illicit trade. The term
transit trade owes its use to the character free port trade as a mediator,
connecting markets otherwise closed from each other.
3
The once bustling activity of St. Eustatius, nicknamed “the Golden
Rock”, as well as Curaçao was however close to extinguished towards the
end of the century when the Dutch Republic was subsumed by France.
Danish St. Thomas was occupied by British forces in 1807 as a result of the
Danish course in the Napoleonic Wars. The effects of these circumstances
have not been well understood in current historical research. The effects
appeared however to be quite tangible for the Swedish colony. On location
in St. Barthélemy during the height of the Napoleonic Wars, Bergius even
ventured to claim that “gold flowed out in streams out of the very rock of
the island”, an allusion to the hundreds of ships which could be seen
frequenting the colony to trade and barter their cargoes at a daily basis. It
is also an image that is highly reminiscent of the near mythical past wealth
of St. Eustatius. Indeed, while Bergius’ description of a prosperous St.
Barthélemy is highly colorful, it is a characteristic sentiment which is often
mirrored in other sources. Abraham Runnels, a former inhabitant of St.
Eustatius, compared the histories of St. Eustatius and St. Barthélemy in
1814 and claimed that “what one [St. Eustatius] owed of her celebrity to
the War of American Independence, the other [St. Barthélemy] owes to
the Wars of the French revolution.” At the time of his statement, Runnels
was living on St. Barthélemy, and had become a naturalized Swedish
burgher. Runnels was one of many ‘Statians’ that had moved from the
Dutch colony to St. Barthélemy during the turmoil of the 1790s. Before
Runnels and family members had become Swedish subjects, he had been

3
Although the term ”informal economy” has been primarily applied in the social sciences
since the 1970s, it has been incorporated in historical scholarship as well, cf. for example
Lance Grahn, Political Economy of Smuggling: Regional Informal Economies in Early Bourbon New
Granada (Boulder, CO: Westview, 1997); For an overview, see Mark G. Hanna’s entry:
“Smuggling” in the Atlantic History section of Oxford Bibliographies Online:
http://www.oxfordbibliographiesonline.com.
15
part of a community which had been trading from Dutch Caribbean
colonies for generations, but had since then shifted national affiliations in
order to continue their livelihood.4
A History Fallen into Obscurity?
Why is it, however, that St. Barthélemy remains understudied in Swedish
and international historiography? Against the backdrop of narratives
about Dutch commercial primacy through their Caribbean free ports and
interloping trade, one is at a loss to find any mention of the commercial
importance of St. Barthélemy. In 1784, St. Barthélemy was acquired by the
Swedish crown from the French. It is one of the smallest islands of the
Lesser Antilles, and at the time of acquisition, the island was home to only
a few hundred French settlers and their slaves. It was one of the least
economically and politically important islands in the Caribbean. It was
however, the end-result of Swedish colonial ambitions at the close of the
eighteenth century. It was decided that the only way to exploit the island
was to encourage the transit trade within the region in a similar manner as
had been done by Dutch and Danish colonies in the region, as well as to try
an attempt to participate directly in the West Indian trade. And with
Swedish acquisition also came – eventually – a substantial transformation
of the colony. The Swedish colonial efforts were focused at creating a free
port town around the rim of Le Carénage, a protected cove on the
southwest shore.
The colony’s small imprint on the Swedish economy is however only
one aspect of its obscured past. There has been uneven attention paid to
international history in Scandinavian and northern European states.
Historical conditions have likely led to this state of affairs, as northern
European states have not experienced significant phenomena of

4
The quote from Runnels to Skogman, 9 June 1814, SBS 3 A, SNA; Han Jordaan and Victor
Wilson, ”The Eighteenth-century Danish, Dutch and Swedish Free Ports in the
Northeastern Caribbean: Continuity and Change,” in Dutch Atlantic Connections, ed. Gert
Oostindie and Jessica V. Roitman (Leiden: Brill, 2014), 278–308.
16
decolonization, such as postwar migration from former colonies, demands
of reparations and reconciliation with a colonial past, or any kind of
demand or institutional support for any coherent tradition of colonial
history in higher education.5
This detachment from a colonial past has not always been as it is in
Sweden today. In pre-World War II-Sweden, colonialism was still an
unproblematic subject. After the war Swedish scholars and writers
however marginalized colonialism from its place in Swedish national
narratives, and it became more common to stress the insignificance of
Swedish colonial projects, as it did not fit very well into the historical
Swedish self-view as a progressive and liberal welfare state. As a result of
this development, Swedish colonial history has never been politicized, that
is, up until very recently. In 2014 Sweden was included in the Caribbean
Community (CARICOM) list of states held to be responsible for the
effects of colonialism and slavery, and thus possibly liable for reparations.
The country’s colonial past has also garnered some recent media attention
towards current research on St. Barthélemy.6
Another reason for the relative disinterest into the Swedish colonial
period of St. Barthélemy is due to the circumstances surrounding the
sources. Swedish historians have mainly utilized the available material in
the Swedish National Archives (SNA), which primarily consist of the
surviving colonial records and reports sent to Stockholm as well as the
relatively extensive archive of the Swedish West India Company (SWIC).

5
For a discussion of Scandinavian and northern European colonial history, see the
introduction to a special journal issue on the topic by Pernille Ipsen and Gunlög Fur,
Itinerario 33, no. 2 (2009), 7–16; For the Swedish situation, see Stefan Eklöf Amirell, ”Den
internationella historiens uppgång och fall: Trender inom svensk internationell
historieforskning 1950–2005,” Historisk Tidskrift 126, no. 2 (2006), 257–78.
6
The quote from Gunlög Fur in “Colonialism and Swedish History: Unthinkable
Connections?” in Scandinavian Colonialism and the Rise of Modernity: Small Time Agents in a
Global Arena, ed. Magdalena Naum and Jonas M. Nordin (New York: Springer, 2013), 17–36;
May-Britt Öhman, “’Sweden Helps’: Efforts to Formulate the White Man’s Burden for the
Wealthy and Modern Swede,” Kult, no. 7 (2010): 122–42; Alexander Loit, “Sveriges
kolonilotter,” in Den dolda historien. 27 uppsatser om vårt okända förflutna, ed. Ronny
Ambjörnsson and David Gaunt (Stockholm: Författarförlaget, 1984), 376–95; Rolf Sjöström,
”’En nödvändig omständighet’ – om svensk slavhandel i Karibien,” in Svenska överord: En bok
om gränslöshet och begränsningar, ed. Raoul Granqvist (Stockholm: Sympison, 1999), 41–58.
17
The local government archives of the island council were however left on
the island when Sweden finally sold St. Barthélemy back to France in 1878.
These are now held at the Archives nationales d’outre-Mer (ANOM) in Aixen-Provence. The records, the Fonds Suédois de Saint-Barthélemy (FSB) have
suffered through adverse climate, neglect, as well as fires, and are as a result
in a very bad state of conservation. Large parts were probably destroyed
and lost forever during periods of foreign occupation of the colony.7
One of the arguably most important explanations, however, is the weak
link between international and domestic research on Nordic colonialism.
There are only a few exceptions, were international scholarship has taken
note of the colony’s economic role. Albert Keller noted in his great
synthesis on colonization that during the British occupation of the Danish
Caribbean colonies in 1807–1815, “American products were diverted and
passed over St. Bartholomew, which at the time enjoyed an ephemeral
importance.” Eric Williams also afforded a paragraph to the Swedish island
in his seminal Capitalism and Slavery when he discussed the need of
convenient transit harbors in the Caribbean for neutral American traders.8

There are multiple explanations behind the relative omission of the
colonies of the Nordic countries in international research, not least of
which are the linguistic and archival exigencies involved. Another aspect,
finally is the fact that the historiography of the West Indies and the
Western hemisphere in the Early Modern period has long focused on
plantations rather than cities as the hearts of colonial economies and

7
Rolf Lamborn, ”The Archives of Saint Bartholomew Rediscovered,” The Swedish Pioneer
Historical Society 15, no. 1 (1964), 33–44; Ingvar Andersson, ”Arkivalier från S:t Barthélemys
svenska tid,” Arkiv, samhälle, forskning 8 (1965), 7–13; Dan Brändström, ”Det svenska arkivet i
Västindien,” Västerbottens-kuriren, December 12, 1967; Björn Lindh, ”Det svenska SaintBarthélemy-arkivet.” Arkiv, samhälle, forskning 16 (1974), 21–25.; Anne Lebel, ”SaintBarthélemy et ses archives: une connaissance historique éclatée,” Bulletin de la société d’histoire
de la Guadeloupe 159 (2011), 91–102. Lebel’s survey is the most recent and initiated treatment
of the archival history of the FSB, and sheds some light on the problems associated in the
early days of its organization, as well as the potential this material has for future research.
8
Adrian J. Pearce, British trade with Spanish America, 1763–1808 (Liverpool: Liverpool
University Press, 2007), 201, 245; Albert G. Keller, Colonization: A Study of the Founding of New
Societies (Boston: Ginn & Co., 1908), 506; Eric Williams, Capitalism and Slavery (Chapel Hill:
The University of North Carolina Press, 1994), 122.
18
societies. Furthermore, little or no attention has been made to
connections across imperial borders in the colonies themselves, either in
the form of migration flows, the transfers of ideas and information, or the
complex networks created through trade and commerce. The history of St.
Barthélemy, in short, has been largely treated as an isolated Swedish affair,
and it follows that the relationship between St. Barthélemy and the
surrounding region is not clearly understood.9
This study, however, takes the free port town as a point of departure.
Unlike the plantation colonies, free port towns such as Gustavia were
created in order to circumvent imperial monopolies rather than uphold
them, for the gain of individuals as well as national treasuries. I argue that
the historical role of St. Barthélemy in the economy of the Caribbean is
not properly understood, and that it is more significant than previous
research has found it to be. More importantly, I argue that the history of
St. Barthélemy is important for the understanding of the longer continuity
of free trade in the region, and in extension, the different colonial societies
both in the Caribbean and in the North and South American continents.
The study of free ports and similar subterfuges during times of
international conflict serves to investigate regional networks and
relationships integral to the reality of mercantile order in the colonies.
Situating St. Barthélemy in a Regional and Transnational
Perspective
St. Barthélemy has not been incorporated into larger frameworks of
analysis or syntheses in modern historiographies. Scholarly studies as well
popular histories have been published around the topic of the Swedish

9
Anne Pérotin-Dumon, “Cabotage, Contraband, and Corsairs: The Port Cities of
Guadeloupe and their Inhabitants,” in Atlantic Port Cities: Economy, Culture, and Society in the
Atlantic World, 1650–1850, ed. Franklin W. Knight and Peggy K. Liss (Knoxville: The
University of Tennessee Press, 1991), 58; Anne Pérotin-Dumon, La ville aux Iles, la ville dans
l’île: Basse-Terre et Pointe-à-Pitre, Guadeloupe, 1650–1820 (Paris: Karthala, 2000), 12–13.
19
colony, but they all share the same basic framework, that of the colony as
a project connected solely to the agency of the metropole or the nation
state, a common idea in the treatment of European colonialism. To firmly
place the free port of Gustavia within a larger context, I argue that its
history should be linked with the continuity of free trade of the West
Indies in a long historical perspective, from the days of early colonization
to the repeal of mercantilist barriers during the course of the 19th century.
10
In short, this study aims to place the economic history of St.
Barthélemy within a longer historiographic tradition of comparative
organizations of free trade in the West Indies. At the core of this tradition
is the ambition to explain how it was virtually impossible for colonial
powers to attain the ideal of mercantilist and exclusive colonial systems.
Imperial borders and national privileges were in reality constantly
challenged, and they often yielded to internal economic necessities,
ambitions of gain, and pragmatic government policy. I argue that it this is
the most suitable and conducive context in consideration of the economic
history of St. Barthélemy.
1.2 Topical Research, Perspectives and Theory
Strictly speaking, there is no historiographic tradition of transit trade per
se, let alone an integrated field of historical research. But it is however a
discernible genre of colonial history with a long continuity. One of the
earliest examples is Richard Pares’ War and Trade in the West Indies (1938),

10 Frederick Cooper and Ann Laura Stoler, ”Between Metropole and Colony. Rethinking a
research agenda,” in Tensions of Empire. Colonial Cultures in a Bourgeois World, ed. Frederick
Cooper and Ann Laura Stoler. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997); For a short but
precise overview of smuggling in the Americas, see Wim Klooster “Inter-Imperial Smuggling
in the Americas, 1600–1800,” in Soundings in Atlantic History: Latent Structures and Intellectual
Currents, 1500–1830, ed. Bernard Bailyn and Patricia L. Denault (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 2009) 141–80.
20
in which the interdependence of different British and French colonies’
commercial and political interests is explored, not in the least the
relationship between the North American colonies and the West Indies,
particularly the readiness of American merchants to trade with the enemy
during the wars of the 18th century. He further elaborated on this historical
relationship in Yankees and Creoles (1956). A recent work on the same theme
is Thomas Truxe’s Defying Empire: Trading with the Enemy in New York
(2008), in which he details the methods and ambitions of New England
merchants that continued to exchange British goods for French sugar and
Spanish silver during the Seven Years’ War (1756–63). In a broader popular
treatment, Peter Andreas has focused on the significance of smuggling in
U.S. history from colonial to modern times in Smuggler Nation (2013).
11
The contraband trade between North American colonies and the
French West Indies became a problem within the British Empire during
the 18th century and was part of the impetus behind the British project to
establish a network of Caribbean free ports. The first study of this project
was published in 1953 by Frances Armytage, The Free Port System in the
British West Indies. Through the free ports, the British government also
sought ways to circumvent its own Navigation Acts, by enabling coveted
trade contacts in Spanish colonies with which direct, legal trade was
otherwise impossible. The issue of British commercial ambitions in
Spanish colonial America has been detailed in a more recent study by
Adrian Pearce, British Trade with Spanish America, 1763–1808, which builds
further upon the work of Armytage. Pearce empirically confirms that the
British goal had always been unrestricted trade with Spanish America, that
both government and merchants alike were complicit in ignoring treaties,

11 Richard Pares, War and Trade in the West Indies, 1739–1763 (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1936); Richard Pares, Yankees and Creoles: The Trade between North America and
the West Indies before the American Revolution (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1956); Thomas Truxes, Defying Empire: Trading with the Enemy in Colonial New York
(New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008); Peter Andreas, Smuggler Nation: How Illicit
Trade Made America (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013).
21
Navigation Acts, and condoning every sort of interloping and smuggling
imaginable.12
Within the same framework one can assign different works on the
Dutch West Indies during the recent decades. Before Wim Klooster’s
Illicit Riches: Dutch Trade in the Caribbean, 1648–1795, the transatlantic trade
of the Dutch Republic had never received the same scholarly attention as
the Dutch Asian trade. Klooster’s study of the Dutch free ports on
Curaçao and St. Eustatius shed new light on the Dutch transit trade with
Spanish and French colonies. The study added empirical weight in many
ways to the long-standing narrative of Dutch traders as the perennial
middlemen of different colonial trade networks, as well as discovering that
the Dutch transatlantic trade was larger than what was previously thought.
Klooster has continued to emphasize the role of smuggling and illicit trade
within the wider early modern Atlantic world. Of the few other historians
who have concentrated on greater overviews and theories of illicit trade in
multiple empires, the most notable is Alan Karras.13
There is a relative dearth of smuggling studies within the French and
Spanish historiographies. In the French case there are many factors which
have contributed to the relatively low yield of colonial studies overall. The
field of Atlantic History has after all been conceived within the AngloSaxon academic world, and the French historical tradition has developed
independently during the 20th century under the Annales school with its
new orientations, away from ideologies of colonialism, imperialism, and
nationalism. In the context of French colonial trade, Jean Tarrade’s 1972

12 Frances Armytage, The Free Port System in the British West Indies (London: Longmans, Green
& Co., 1953); Cf. Adrian J. Pearce, “British Trade with the Spanish Colonies,” Bulletin of Latin
American Research 20, no. 2 (2001): 233–60; In a recent interesting analysis, Javier CuencaEsteban builds upon Pearce’s estimates of the British trade into Spanish America and posits
that they could be revised upwards of 29 percent or more. Javier Cuenca-Esteban, “British
“Ghost” Exports, American Middlemen, and the Trade to Spanish America, 1790–1819: A
Speculative Reconstruction,” The William & Mary Quarterly 71, no. 1 (2014): 63–89.
13 Wim Klooster, Illicit Riches: Dutch Trade in the Caribbean, 1648–1795 (Leiden: KITLV Press,
1998); 141–180; Alan Karras, “Smuggling and its Malcontents,” in Interactions: Transregional
Perspectives on World History, ed. Jerry H. Bentley (Honolulu: University of Hawaii, 2010), 135–
49; Alan Karras, Smuggling. Contraband and Corruption in World History (Lanham: Rowman &
Littlefield, 2009).
22
volumes on the Exclusif mitigé is still the definitive study, spanning the last
quarter-century of the l’ancien regime. It differs from many of the above
works in that it is communicated through the perspective of the French
monarchy, and its attempts to negotiate the markets of its colonial empire
with and without Colbertian principles of metropolitan monopoly. It also
differs somewhat in that Tarrade is almost exclusively concerned with the
trade between France and its own colonies, as opposed to the informal
economies with other territories which thrived the peripheries of the
French empire.14
It is somewhat more difficult to pinpoint book-length surveys of
Spanish colonial trade, but economic studies of Spanish America have
generally given extensive treatment to the issue of contraband and
attempts to curtail contraband within the Spanish Empire. For instance,
the larger theme in Stein and Stein’s Edge of Crisis (2012) is the decline of
the Spanish empire and the colonial heritage of Latin America from a
dependency-theory perspective. Similar to Tarrade’s study, it focuses
meticulously on the peninsular policy making of Spain and the subaltern
colonial relationship of Spain with the other Spanish colonies in the
Caribbean. In their exposition, the reorganizing of New Spain’s trade in
1789–93, the Comercio Libre, served to create new fissures within an already
unstable empire. John R. Fischer’s The Economic Aspects of Spanish
Imperialism in America, 1492–1810 (1997), as well as surveys by Horst
Pietschmann are older entries in the research into the economic spheres
of Spanish imperialism, but no less valid. Fischer’s work is on a grander
scale as it addresses how the Spanish government treated the economic

14 Jean Tarrade, Le commerce colonial de la France à la fin de l’Ancien Regime : L’evolution du regime
de « l’Exclusif » de 1763 a 1789, 2 vols. (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1972); For a
discussion on illicit trade within the French West Indies, see Kenneth Banks, “Official
Duplicity: The Illicit Slave Trade of Martinique, 1713–1763,” in The Atlantic Economy during the
Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries: Organization, Operation, Practice, and Personnel, ed. Peter
Coclanis (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 2005); The relative paucity of
French works within colonial history is explored in Cécile Vidal, “The Reluctance of French
Historians to Address Atlantic History,” Southern Quarterly 43 (2006): 153–89; For a current
French work that engages in the Atlantic World, see Sylvia Marzagalli, cf. Guerre et économie
dans l’espace atlantique du XVIe au XXe siècle, ed. Sylvia Marzagalli and Bruno Marnot
(Bordeaux: Presses Universitaires de Bordeaux, 2006).
23
aspects of its empire, whereas Pietchmann’s overview handles the systemic
corruption and illicit trade in Spanish colonial society.15
Scandinavian Colonialism and Historiography
Within the Nordic countries themselves, colonial studies have been
limited. The historiography on the Swedish colonial period of St.
Barthélemy has focused solely on the relationship between metropole and
colony, and in extension, the colony’s importance for the Swedish
economy. The only works which have arguably situated the colony’s
history in more sizeable contexts are Sven Ola Swärd’s study on Sweden’s
early 19th-century diplomacy and trade with Latin America, as well as the
smaller case studies of St. Barthélemy’s connections with South American
rebels and insurgents by Carlos Vidales.16

Eli Heckscher, the dominant figure of economic historical research in
Sweden as well as an important name in international circles of the
discipline, summed up the history of St. Barthélemy as “unimportant”. The
conclusion was a side-note in a wider sweep of Heckscher’s general critique
of Swedish commercial policy during the 18th century. Later scholarship
has nuanced and modified his interpretations, whereas his verdict on the
economic value of St. Barthélemy has hardly been challenged.17

15 Barbara H. Stein and Stanley J. Stein, Edge of Crisis: War and Trade in the Spanish
Atlantic, 1789–1808 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2012); John R. Fischer, The
Economic Aspects of Spanish Imperialism in America, 1492–1810 (Liverpool: Liverpool
University Press, 1997). The original Spanish edition of this book appeared in print in 1991;
Horst Pietschmann, “Burocracia y corrupción en hispanoamérica colonial: Una
aproximación tentativa,” Nova Americana 5 (1985): 9–37.
16 Sven Ola Swärd, Latinamerika i svensk politik under 1810– och 1820–talen (Uppsala: Almqvist
& Wiksell, 1949); Vidales’ works are spread over a number of articles and book chapters, but
notable contributions are Carlos Vidales, “Corsarios y piratas de la Revolución Francesa en
las aguas de la emancipación,” Iberoamericana 19, no. 2 (1989): 247–62; Carlos Vidales, “S:t
Barthélemy: en svensk koloni i frihetskämparnas tjänst (1810–30),” in Sverige – Latinamerika.
Förbindelser och samarbete och samarbete, ed. Weine Karlsson and Åke Magnusson (Stockholm:
Latinamerika-institutet, 1992), 25–33.
17 Eli Heckscher, Sveriges ekonomiska historia sedan Gustav Vasa (Stockholm: Bonniers, 1936),
II: 666–667.
24
The most serious effort to do this was however made in a dissertation
by Ingegerd Hildebrand, published in 1951. Hildebrand’s is the most widely
cited secondary work on the colony’s Swedish history. For its limited time
period (1784–96), it is a thoroughly researched work, much occupied with
the intricacies of political and diplomatic history, as well as the first study
to investigate some of the economic networks and connections in which
the Swedish colony was involved, but the main focus still remains within
the metropole-colony framework.18
The shifting interest in Sweden about its former West Indian colony
has produced a range of shorter and longer specialized treatments of its
history. There is the sounding into the legal history of St. Barthélemy by
Birger Wedberg (1936), the short study of slave demography by Hannes
Hyrenius (1977), but also exhaustively researched studies like the
ecclesiastical and religious history of Jan Arvid Hellström (1987).
Hellström’s work created one of the first comprehensive bibliographies
and resources of St. Barthélemy history.19
The irregular attention to colonial history in Sweden and in the other
northern European states has, however, in recent years come to change.
Arguably because of international trends in colonial history, northern
European scholars have started to attempt the integration of the field of
Scandinavian colonial history. Interpretative models and frameworks have
been found readily available not in the least from the field of Atlantic and
Global history. Global historia från periferin: Norden 1600–1850 (2010)20
, is a
recent anthology which is concerned with early modern northern Europe

18 Ingegerd Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin S:t Barthélemy och Västindiska kompaniet fram till
1796 (PhD diss., Lunds universitet, 1951); Sture M. Waller, “Det svenska förvärvet av S:t
Barthélemy. Huvvuddragen av de svensk-franska förhandlingarna och parternas syften,”
Historisk tidskrift 3 (1953): 231–55; Sture M. Waller, S:t Barthélemy, 1785–1801. Yttre förhållanden,
handelspolitik och statsfinansiell betydelse (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1954), 1–35.
19 Birger Wedberg, ”S. Barthelemy febern” and ”Lag och rätt på S. Barthelemy,” in
Tärningskast på liv och död: rättshistoriska skisser (Stockholm: Norstedts, 1935), 39–51; Hannes
Hyrenius, Royal Swedish Slaves (Göteborg: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1977); Jan Arvid Hellström,
“… åt alla christliga förvanter…” En undersökning av kolonialförvaltning, religionsvård och
samfundsliv på S:t Barthélemy under den svenska perioden 1784–1878 (Uppsala: Erene, 1987).
20 Leos Müller, Göran Rydén and Holger Weiss, eds., Global historia från periferin: Norden
1600–1850 (Lund: Studentlitteratur, 2010).
25
from a global perspective. A result of a Scandinavian scholarly network, it
contains a number of contributions that illustrate how a focus on the
consumption of Atlantic products, such as sugar, coffee, and rum, is a way
of writing Atlantic history for regions that did not have strong colonial
empires. There are also current works that display a willingness to examine
some of the larger questions concerning the role of colonial trade for
European economic growth, rather than simply the presentation of new
empirical information. An example is Klas Rönnbäck’s dissertation,
Commerce and Colonisation (2009).
21 There has been some interesting new
developments in the research strictly concerning St. Barthélemy as well.
Leos Müller’s Consuls, Corsairs, and Commerce (2004)22 concentrates on the
eighteenth century Swedish long-distance trade and shipping and the
establishment of Swedish consular services around the world, and a survey
of St. Barthélemy’s role in the Swedish transatlantic trade. Holger Weiss
has surveyed the current state of knowledge about the involvement of
Denmark-Norway, Sweden, Courland, and Brandenburg in the slave trade
and shows how the geopolitical positions of these states conditioned the
way they participated in the slave trade. It also pinpoints lacunae in the
research, particularly concerning Swedish slave trade and slavery. He is also
among the first to study race and urban slavery in Gustavia at the end of
the eighteenth century.23
There are however several forthcoming studies on St. Barthélemy. The
first is the research project of Fredrik Thomasson of Uppsala University,
which will result in a book on the legal system of St. Barthélemy, centering
on the law and praxis of slavery in the colony. The other is a thesis by Ale

21 Klas Rönnbäck, Commerce and Colonisation: Studies of Early Modern Merchant
Capitalism in the Atlantic Economy (Unpublished PhD thesis, Göteborgs universitet, 2009).
22 Leos Müller, Consuls, Corsairs and Commerce: The Swedish Consular Service and LongDistance Shipping, 1720–1815 (Uppsala: Acta Universitatis Uppsaliensis, 2004).
23 See for example Holger Weiss, ”Danskar och svenskar i den atlantiska slavhandeln 1650–
1850,” in Globalhistoria från periferin: Norden 1600–1850, ed. Leos Müller, Göran Rydén and
Holger Weiss (Lund: Studentlitteratur, 2010), 39–74; Holger Weiss, ”Det svenska
kolonialprojektets komplexa rum: om slaveri under svensk flagg i slutet av 1700–talets
karibiska och atlantiska värld,” Sjuttonhundratal: Nordic Yearbook for Eighteenth-Century Studies
(2012), 59–92.
26
Pålsson, with a focus on the multicultural society of Gustavia and its
political culture. Both of these works are due to be finished or published
in 2016. Holger Weiss has continued work on the Swedish slave trade
through St. Barthélemy, as well as a study on the spatial dimension of race
and urban slavery in Gustavia in the late 18th century.24
Perspectives on International Smuggling and Informal Trade
One could well place the commercial history of St. Barthélemy within
the organizing frame of reference that is ‘Atlantic history’. The rise to
primacy of the European economy and the increase in Atlantic trade
during the Early Modern period have been highly significant events in the
history of the world, and the linking of the two has given rise to the vast
body of work contained within Atlantic history. There is however a
pronounced difficulty in situating the needle’s eye of Gustavia within such
a large framework. True enough, it can be argued that the colony inevitably
played a minor role of the wider machinery of merchant capitalism that
was so prevalent within what historians call the Atlantic World. Still, I
argue that the body of evidence unearthed during the course of working
with this dissertation comes out heavily in favor of a sub-regional rather
than supra-regional perspective. This could be described as an inverted
variation of Peter Coclanis’ criticism of Atlantic history. Whereas
Coclanis has argued that the analytical unit of the Atlantic Sea may be too
confining, I argue that there may be regional relationships which may be

24 Fredrik Thomasson, “Thirty-Two Whiplashes at Quatre Piquets: Slave Laws and Justice
in the Swedish Colony Saint Barthélemy around Year 1800,” in Ports of Globalisation, Places of
Creolization: Danish and Swedish Possessions in the Atlantic World in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth
Century, ed. Holger Weiss (Leiden: Brill, forthcoming); Ale Pålsson, “Our Side of the Water.
Political Culture and Representation in St. Barthélemy in the early 19th century”
(Unpublished PhD-thesis, Stockholm University, forthcoming); Holger Weiss, Slavhandel
och slaveri under svensk flagg: Koloniala drömmar och verklighet i Afrika och Karibien 1770–1847
(Helsingfors: Svenska Litteratursällskapet i Finland, forthcoming); Holger Weiss, ”A
Divided Space: Subjects and Others in the Swedish West Indies during the Late Eighteenth
Century,” in Sweden in the Eighteenth-Century World – Provincial Cosmopolitans, ed. Göran
Rydén (Farnham: Ashgate, 2013), 275–300.
27
overlooked if the supra-regional perspective takes precedence. There are
other objections to the choice of Atlantic History, for instance the
overemphasis on the core-periphery relationship between colony and
motherland. There is also a tendency within Atlantic history to focus
politically confined Atlantics, such as the “Dutch Atlantic,” or the “Danish
Atlantic.” Even though Atlanticists often explicitly reject the national
confines of traditional imperial history, boundaries based on territory and
even language are often the chief considerations which define the
frameworks of individual studies in Atlantic History. For this reason,
Atlantic historians have been criticized for the inherent arbitrary and
ahistorical elements which their work can sometimes display, but the
recent trend in Atlantic History is to increasingly focus on inter-imperial
and transnational aspect, and many have deliberately marginalized the old
metropole-colony or core-periphery relationships.25

If the focus is not on national frameworks or empires, the picture can
be rendered quite differently. A viable alternative is to concentrate on the
general history on regional trade and smuggling. Research centering on the
phenomenon of smuggling and illicit trade has elicited a few recent debates
regarding merchant commerce within and between empires. A related
study, Cathy Matson’s Merchants and Empire. Trading in Colonial New York,
examines attitudes towards mercantile regulations and the subsequent
crisis in imperial relations between the United Kingdom and their
American colonies. Her study displays very clearly the difficulty in pinning
down any consistent economic ideology among merchants who
continuously traded across imperial borders, and with enemies of their

25 Peter Coclanis, “Drang Nach Osten: Bernard Bailyn, the World-Island, and the Idea of
Atlantic History,” Journal of World History 13, no. 1 (2002): 169–82; Peter Coclanis, “Atlantic
World or Atlantic/World?” The William & Mary Quarterly 63, no. 4 (2006): 725–42; Pierre
Gervais, “Neither Imperial, Nor Atlantic: A Merchant Perspective on International Trade
in the Eighteenth Century,” History of European Ideas 34 (2008): 465–473; Michael Jarvis, In
the Eye of All Trade. Bermuda, Bermudians, and the Maritime Atlantic World, 1680–1783 (Chapel
Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2010); For recent trends, see Manuel Covo,
“Baltimore and the French Atlantic: Empires, Commerce, and Identity in a Revolutionary
Age, 1783–1798,” in The Caribbean and the Atlantic World Economy: Circuits of Trade, Money, and
Knowledge, 1650–1914, ed. A.B. Leonard and David Pretel (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan,
2015), 87–107.
28
sovereign. Her explicit attempt at problematizing and understanding
merchant ideology and mentalities is one of the few of its kind, as most
authors and scholars rarely question or scrutinize smuggling and informal
modes of economic activity, let alone make it a central focus of their
work.26
In general, historians have tended to be highly ambiguous in the overall
treatment of smuggling. Smuggling as a phenomenon has several
conceptual problems as well as with empirical evidence. Illicit trade could
go on seamlessly if officials and bureaucrats were in compliance, and
reliable quantitative data is therefore very rare. It is also hard to define a
given commercial transaction between nations or between regions as legal
or illegal, as that distinction often hinged on imperfect and diverging law
texts, and, most importantly, their interpretations. In reality, one nation’s
legitimate merchant was another nation’s smuggler. Among scholars, the
unproblematic acceptance of smuggling as a matter of fact tends to prevail,
and it is present for instance in the work of Truxes, whose Irish merchants
in New York were loyal subjects to the Crown but merely considered their
“business to be business,” even if it entailed trading with the enemy. In
accordance with this perspective, smuggling and interloping were simply
staples of colonial life. It was a condition grown naturally out of the
prevailing governance based on the ‘salutary neglect’ of relatively
decentralized empires such as Great Britain. One extreme view however
sees smuggling as a purely illegal activity, perpetrated by avaricious
merchants and pursued by conscientious administrators, a story of good
and evil very much present in Pares and others’ expositions. More recent
contributions such as Pearce have however shown quite convincingly that
this is in many cases a false dichotomy. According to this perspective,
inter-imperial smuggling furthered national interests through the access to
foreign markets and was indeed very much supported in the strategic
thinking of imperial leadership. This view holds that neutral traders and
smugglers were simply go-betweens, even “dogsbodies and pawns” of

26 Cathy Matson, Merchants and Empire. Trading in Colonial New York (Baltimore: Johns
Hopkins University Press, 1998), 313–18.
29
imperial policy. This argument also serves as an explanation why neutral
trade was exercised and tolerated to such a large extent.27
Indeed, similar arguments are not confined to colonial empires within
the Western Hemisphere. An example is the Danish East Indian trade
during the late eighteenth century. Through his doctoral thesis, India
Trade under the Danish Flag (1969), Ole Feldbæk raised very serious doubts
about just how Danish this trade was. He argued that the Danish India
trade was an element in European expansion in India and that it cannot be
viewed as an isolated Danish activity but was instead largely based on the
capital which British subjects, both those in the employ of the East India
Company and those who were not, brought back to Europe. This so-called
remitted Anglo-Indian capital was brought home by ships flying the
Danish flag, because it had often been acquired in an illegal manner
directly or indirectly at the expense of the British East India Company, as
the latter had a monopoly on direct sea journeys between India and
Britain. During the American War of Independence, the Danish Asiatic
Company thus financed almost the whole of its India trade with capital it
had borrowed from the employees of its British competitor company.
Feldbæk’s book therefore supports the view put forward by Holden Furber
that all the other European nations involved in India contributed willingly
or unwillingly to the establishment of British domination in the subcontinent. It is also a valid question if a similar development could be
traced in the Americas and West Indies at the beginning of the eighteenth
century, where the Caribbean Sea not only became a British territory due
to its maritime superiority, but due to commercial circumstances as well.28

27 Simon Middleton, review of Defying Empire. Trading with the Enemy in Colonial New York,
by Thomas Truxes, Reviews in History, no. 740, http://www.history.ac.uk/reviews/review/740,
date accessed: 2 April 2015; John J. McCusker, review of British trade with Spanish America,
1763–1808, by Adrian J. Pearce, Economic History Review 63, no. 1 (2010): 250–51.
28 Ole Feldbæk, India Trade under the Danish Flag 1772–1808. European Enterprise and AngloIndian Remittance and Trade (Lund: Studentlitteratur, 1969); In 1971 Ole Lange published an
article on the Danish China trade during the nineteenth century. It shows how British
merchants in Canton used the Dannebrog (the Danish national flag) as a flag of convenience.
See Ole Lange, “Denmark in China 1839–65: A Pawn in a British Game,” The Scandinavian
Economic History Review 19 (1971): 71–117.
30
Feldbæk’s dissertation was criticized by some Danish historians at the
time of publication, among whom it has been traditional to interpret the
Danish East India trade as an arena of commercial prowess of domestic
mercantile dynasties rather than as a straw man for foreign smuggling. The
extant research on Danish West Indies displays similar national
interpretations. For instance, the main town capital of the Danish colony
St. Thomas, Charlotte Amalie, and its history as an international entrepôt
in the Caribbean, has tended to be treated more as an anomaly rather than
as the integral economic society of the early modern Caribbean that it
arguably was.29
The general reluctance to adopt a more pragmatic view of smuggling
and illicit trade, and to interpret border-traversing merchant activity in the
early modern period as driven by something else than treacherous greed
and self-interest is largely due to the nation state paradigms, but it might
also find part of its explanation in a long-standing consensus of sorts
among historians. The “mercantilist consensus” is the tendency,
particularly among Atlanticists, early Americanists and British scholars of
empire, to stress the centrality of mercantilism in the organization of the
pre-revolutionary Atlantic, and the assumption that there was a consensus
of mercantilist thought in European commercial and high society. It might
go a long way in explaining the discrepancy of narratives of mercantile
behavior, as its inherent logic quite easily leads to the interpretation that
smugglers and interlopers were simply persons who subverted the
prevailing mercantile order solely for private gain. Up until recently, there
has been very little new debate regarding the true nature and operation of
mercantilist consensus, but scholars have begun to question the very

29 The only article which soundly contradicts this statement about St. Thomas scholarship is
Svend-Erik Green-Pedersen, “Colonial Trade under the Danish Flag. A case study of the
Danish slave trade to Cuba 1790–1807,” Scandinavian Journal of History 5 (1980): 93–120. For
the criticism against Feldbæk, see Povl Bagge’s review in Historisk Tidskrift 12, no. 4 (1970):
584–95.
31
existence of it, and consequently its logical extensions and conclusions for
economic history.30
There is, however, a general agreement that the mid-1700s ushered in a
new period of debt-driven pan-European imperial reform in the wake of
the Seven Years’ War which created entirely new circumstances for
colonial commerce and a movement towards more free forms of trade.
Historians have started to pay increasingly more attention to various
developments in this period, and consequently the perspectives on intercolonial networks and merchant activity have become more diversified and
nuanced. It has also become more common to move away from the
perspective of empire, the nation state, as well as centers and peripheries.
A range of new works emphasize inter-colonial networks and
developments not under imperial purview, but through the selforganization of peoples within the colonial territories.31

1.3 Questions, Prospectus, and Methodology
The overarching question this study strives to answer is simply what role
the free port of Gustavia came to play in the Caribbean transit trade during
the international conflicts between 1793 and 1815? A fundamental element
of the study is the assumption that smuggling – all part and parcel of the
regional transit trade – was a natural and integral element in the Caribbean,
especially during wartime. Against the background of debates about
smuggling in the early modern Atlantic world, it will be of particular
interest to investigate whose interests the existence and operation of the
free port ultimately favored? Should Gustavia and its commercial

30 Steve Pincus, “Rethinking Mercantilism: Political Economy, the British Empire, and the
Atlantic World in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries,” The William & Mary Quarterly
69, no. 1 (2012): 3–34.
31 For recent developments see for instance Cathy Matson, “The Atlantic Economy in an Era
of Revolutions: An Introduction,” The William & Mary Quarterly 62, no. 3 (2005).
32
operation be viewed as an isolated Swedish project, or as an institution that
was a convenient subterfuge for commercial actors of one or several
nations, or as part of a larger imperial design, where neutral traders simply
functioned as middlemen? Can and should Gustavia be included in a longer
narrative of free trade in the Western hemisphere?
The study is limited to the period of the French Revolutionary and
Napoleonic Wars because it represents the only period during which
Gustavia enjoyed considerable commercial activity. As will be showed
further on, Gustavia descended into a rapid economic decline after the
conclusion of hostilities in 1815. However, it is not possible to completely
adhere to the natural terminus of 1815 in a few instances where it becomes
too restrictive. In the context of this thesis, there are two such cases. One
is the transatlantic and intra-Caribbean slave trade covered in chapter 3,
which, contradictory to the general development, was a feature of Gustavia
trade well into the 19th century. The other case is the relationship of
Gustavia with the privateering economy of the South American Wars of
Independence, which lasted until the consolidation of independence of
most insurgent states towards the end of the 1820s. This relationship is
developed in chapter 5.3.
Structure of the Study
The chapters of this study are organized according to different research
topics and questions. Chapter 2 and its subchapters mainly explore the
contextual questions surrounding the Caribbean region’s political and
economic history, highlighting the integral importance of smuggling and
illicit trade for colonial societies for centuries since their first settlement
and exploitation by Europeans. It also contains the background of Swedish
colonization and its preconditions, ambitions and outcomes. The chapter
attempts an analysis of the ultimate significance of the colony for Sweden
and Swedish interests. It further investigates the institutional conditions
and possibilities offered by the neutral free port of Gustavia for
international commerce. It also strives to answer contextual questions
33
surrounding the nature and operation of illicit trade, as well as highly
related phenomena such as piracy, privateering and maritime warfare
conducted through Gustavia. These institutional preconditions will be
analyzed critically in order to assess the viability of the free port in the
wider commercial activity of the Caribbean.
Chapter 3 is a systematic account and assessment of the St.
Barthélemy’s involvement in the transatlantic and intra-Caribbean slave
trade. It includes a general survey of the character and function of St.
Barthélemy in the wider slave trade enterprises of the Atlantic world, as
well as a general history of Swedish involvement in the slave trade and its
development towards abolition. Finally, a statistical assessment of the
scope, frequency, and trajectory of the St. Barthélemy slave trade
concludes the chapter. A central problem for the chapter is the
nomenclature of Swedish slave trade and the categorization of different
slave trade enterprises affiliated in any manner with the Swedish colony.
Chapter 4 arrives at the central section of the study. Through a
chronological exposition, the history of the transit trade via Gustavia is
investigated, and key events and turning points are analyzed. The chapter
employs the bulk of empirical findings through a combination of database
and source analysis.
Analytical frameworks – the Inter-Imperial Microregion
A compelling alternative framework of analysis has been proposed by
Jeppe Mulich in the form of the inter-imperial microregion, based on the
geographic experience of the Danish West Indies. Mulich submits that
the Danish West Indies could be best understood through an
understanding of the inter-imperial microregion it was situated within, the
Leeward Islands (Figure 1.1). As an analytical construct, the inter-imperial
microregion focuses on the density of networks and interactions found in
certain areas with multiple competing polities. The Leewards certainly was
such an area. Though its islands are comparatively smaller to the wider
Caribbean, with Saba being the smallest at 13 sq. km and Guadeloupe the
34
largest at 1,628 sq. km, it nevertheless included territories claimed by no
less than five colonial powers. The British dominated ownership with
some of its lesser colonies in the wider Caribbean region, administratively
split between the British Virgin Islands to the northwest and Anguilla,
Antigua, Barbuda, Montserrat, St. Kitts and Nevis in the core islands.
They were also separated from Barbados to the far windward, the oldest
British colony in the region.
France held the largest agricultural colonies in the region, Guadeloupe
and Martinique in the far southeast. While the French occupied the
largest relative amount of territory in the Leewards, the British presence
was dominating. Royal Navy patrols were based on the chief Caribbean
station at Antigua, while subordinate stations were localized on Jamaica
and Barbados. The Vice Admiralty Court of Antigua handled cases of
maritime predation and seizure, and its subordinate courts in Tortola, St.
Kitts, Nevis, Montserrat and Dominica were equally competent in issuing
letters of marque to privateers. In times of war, therefore, British maritime
power was highly tangible in the Leewards. The French colonies of
Guadeloupe and Martinique, while substantial producers of tropical
staples, were minor possessions compared to the wealthy sugar economy
of Saint-Domingue. But after the latter colony’s trajectory towards
rebellion by its freedman and slave population, which led to sovereignty
from France, Guadeloupe and Martinique remained as strongholds of
French interests in the region. Guadeloupe became a bastion of
Revolutionary military efforts after 1794, as the local commissaires
reorganized the armed forces and authorized hundreds of privateers to
attack shipping throughout the West Indies. The privateering economy of
Guadeloupe brought great wealth to the French colonies in lieu of
plantation agriculture. Like Saint-Domingue, however, the French
colonies in the Lesser Antilles were also left deeply affected by the
Revolution, and experienced decades of social upheaval in the wake of
internal conflicts between royalists and patriots, the latter of which
introduced and implemented the ideas of the French
35
Figure 1.3 The Leeward Islands and their polities, ca. 1785
Revolution in the colonies. These developments in turn spilled over into
neighboring colonies in the region, who were affected not in the least by
the resulting migration movements and maritime warfare. Aside from the
regional power structure which created real barriers for free movement
and trade, there were also aspects which furthered the communication
over imperial borders- Institutions of finance and postal services were for
instance located in the colonies of larger empires, especially Britain.
Inhabitants of the lesser colonies depended on these for their own
immediate and long-term needs. Networks of kinship and commerce
transcended any and all borders, and the proclivities of supply and demand
created the incentive to traverse them. The Leewards were interspersed
36
with smaller Danish, Dutch, and Swedish colonies. The free ports were
special institutions situated in St. Eustatius, St. Thomas, and St.
Barthélemy all created a sort of imperial crossroads where even
representatives of warring nations could meet and barter on neutral
ground. The nature and function of various free ports will be further
discussed and elaborated in chapter 2.1.
Whatever the relative merits of this construct, one should of course
keep in mind that it contains its own arbitrary and constraining elements.
Economic, political, and social connections can be discerned in every
direction outside the Leewards. St. Thomas and St. Eustatius certainly had
established trade contacts with more westward Spanish and French
colonies like Puerto Rico, Santo Domingo, Cuba and Saint-Domingue,
while almost every colony in the wider Caribbean had close contacts with
American merchants. In fact, the Chesapeake as well as other maritime
ports in the circum-Caribbean could easily be added to compose a wider
inter-imperial macroregion if one were so inclined. In a reflection on the
Atlantic economy during the late 18th-century period of revolutionary
unrest, Cathy Matson has pointed out what has long been a truism in the
colonial history of the Americas:
[…] the economic opportunities and failures of every region in the
Western Hemisphere became interdependent, shaped by Continental
European wars, the vagaries of the weather, internal agricultural
markets, consumer demand, personal commercial networks, and
government policies.32
The crucial point here is not to construct the most rigidly defined
regional perspective, but merely to make visible the contours of regional
networks and relationships in focus. The sub-regional perspective in use in
this study puts its primary attention on the immediate relationships
between the Leeward Islands and their particular place within the circumCaribbean, without neglecting the wider relationships with Northern and
Southern America, Europe, and Africa.

32 Matson, “The Atlantic Economy,” 358–57.
37
Whatever the changing geographic perspective, the object of the
research in this study is trade. As stated above, this trade can have a number
of different labels, ranging from smuggling, contraband trade, informal
trade, transit trade, all used interchangeably. The only common
denominators for this trade was that it was supranational, i.e. intercolonial, and that it was some form of commercial transaction that could
be considered illegal at least from the vantage point of at least one of the
colonial powers involved. Insofar as an effective geographic demarcation
is concerned, this study is solely interested in any trade under the auspices
of the Swedish colony of St. Barthélemy, either Swedish-registered or
simply passing through Gustavia.
Archives, Sources, and Methodology
This study makes use of a large corpus of a previously unexploited sources,
the FSB or the local St. Barthélemy government archive. The material,
consisting of the Swedish administrative records of St. Barthélemy.
Portions of this collection have been microfilmed in turns beginning from
the 1950s, and kept in copies both at ANOM and SNA. Unfortunately
these reproductions are inadequate for extensive reading and
interpretation, and the majority of the volumes have remained
unreproduced. Only a small number of Swedish and French authors have
made use of this material. The archive yields unique opportunities to
understand and make light of the Swedish colony’s economic role in the
Caribbean transit trade. It is an exceptional source for the maritime and
commercial life of the Caribbean around the beginning of the 19th century.
Headed by Fredrik Thomasson of Uppsala University, a small number of
scholars including the author was given access to the previously closed
archives of the FSB in through a project in 2011. Since then, the material
has gradually been digitally reproduced. The work with quantitatively
useful material has necessitated the creation of databases in order to
collect, record, organize, and analyze large quantities of information. In
this thesis, three separate datasets have been created for various purposes.
38
These are (1) the Wilson dataset on the transit trade of St. Barthélemy and
St. Thomas, (2) Wilson dataset on the Swedish slave trade, and (3) the
Wilson dataset on St. Barthélemy mariners. Throughout the thesis they
are referred to in the presentation of various charts, tables, and aggregate
figures on economy, statistics, shipping and demography. The datasets
have been constructed from a wide range of different sources not
restricted to the FSB. In total, they contain nearly 10,000 separate entries
on ship registrations, voyages, as well as individual actors collected over a
span of five years. Despite the varying quality of the records and the
information they contain, the creation of aggregates and statistics through
database software has made analyses of general trade patterns and
individual merchant activity possible. Further details and examples of the
datasets involved are found in Appendix VI.
Assessments and analyses of the sources have however at least three
major limitations in this context. The first concerns the state and
composition of the archive. It is in many instances impossible to make
good quantitative datasets as the sources lack in chronological continuity
(long time-series), contain limited or incomplete information, as well as
the fact that a great of the material is too damaged or illegible for extensive
use. The other limitation is due to the nature of the subject at hand. Illicit
or informal trade leaves comparatively little in the way of reliable
documentation, except in certain cases were traders were apprehended
and prosecuted. While this means that accurate figures and estimations of
commercial activity are near impossible to surmise, it is however possible
to supplement available evidence with other quantitative indicators such
as public revenue figures and statistics, as well as with qualitative
statements and testimonies. The third and final limitation is the
elementary problems associated with a critical reading of the sources. Both
quantitative figure as well as correspondence and reminiscences are highly
complicated historical sources in terms of what kind of information they
carry. They are shaped and fashioned according to the tendencies and
whims of their authors as well as the contemporary circumstances they
were created in. These problems are of course not confined only to this
material, they are ubiquitous in all the material used by the historian. To
39
this end sources will be compared, contrasted, and scrutinized accordingly,
in order to arrive at plausible conclusions and interpretations.
The primary source material is not confined to the administrative
archives of St. Barthélemy. In order to answer the comparative ambitions
of this thesis, a range of different national archives have been consulted.
In total, the national archives of Sweden, Denmark, France, Great Britain
and the United States all contain pertinent records to provide comparative
insights into the role of St. Barthélemy in the Caribbean. These range from
diplomatic and consular correspondence to administrative reports and
compiled statistics. The United States posted consuls in St. Barthélemy
and neighboring colonies starting from 1797, who answered to the
Secretary of State. Their reporting contains invaluable information about
the American commerce directed via St. Barthélemy. Reports from
governors and magistrates in the British and French colonies likewise
contain a wealth of information about the Swedish colony and its intercolonial relationships. For comparative purposes the trade and activities
of other free ports is analyzed when appropriate. The material in the
Danish National Archives that is used in this study pertains solely to the
records of St. Thomas, as it is an important source on the free port trade
in the region. This method is adopted to contrast and gauge the relative
importance of Gustavia with other free ports in the regional transit trade.
40
2 The Free Port Institution of Gustavia
2.1 A History of Free Trade in the Circum-Caribbean
The political and economic geography of the eighteenth century
Caribbean was highly heterogeneous. While empires had laid claim to vast
stretches of territory in Caribbean waters, the nature of these claims were
limited to the effective control over narrow corridors and strips of land,
small enclaves, fortified towns, and the sea-lanes in between them.
Territorial control has, furthermore, not been the principal aim of most
empires in history. Early modern European maritime empires display this
point emphatically. It has been observed, for instance, that both Spain and
Portugal understood the Treaty of Tordesillas not as an agreement to split
the globe into realms of sovereignty, but rather spheres of influence. The
centuries-long scramble for colonies by European empires made its mark
on the Caribbean Sea, as conflict and rivalry ensured that there was no
‘peace beyond the line’. The expression denominated the world west of the
longitude of the outermost of the Azores and south of the Tropic of
Cancer. The concept of ‘the line’ was often a representation of the
lawlessness of the New World compared to the lawful, well-defined realms
of European rulers.1
But there was also an opposite tendency in the form of colonial and
inter-imperial networks, which seemed to emerge seamlessly despite bitter
and continuous colonial rivalries. Economic necessities, ambitions of

1
Lauren Benton, “Legal Spaces of Empire: Piracy and the Origins of Ocean Regionalism,”
Comparative Studies in Society and History 47, no. 4 (2005); 706–21; Eliga H. Gould, “Zones of
Law, Zones of Violence: The Legal Geography of the British Atlantic, circa 1772,” The
William & Mary Quarterly 60, no. 3 (2003): 471–510; Carl Bridenbaugh and Roberta
Bridenbaugh, No Peace Beyond the Line. The English in the Caribbean 1624–1690 (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1972), 3–5.
41
wealth, and regional trade patterns all conspired to forge informal
networks of information and contraband trading that clashed with the
protectionist goals of legal frameworks. Furthermore, the proximity
between empires of different nations mattered immensely for the interimperial bonds that cropped up in the Caribbean. It has been argued that
there was “a Caribbean reality of a regional community where geographic
proximity was often more important than national boundaries.” Nowhere
in the world did such a dense collection of colonies exist with different
imperial allegiances. These regional conditions as well as their
consequences will be the subject of this chapter, leading finally towards the
major role of free ports in furthering regional contacts.2
Monoculture, monopoly, and colonial dependence
The cultivation of sugarcane and its refinement into sugar, molasses, and
rum became the cornerstone of most West Indian colonial economies.
Depending on the circumstances, other crops added to the variety of
cultivation. Caribbean staples included tobacco, cotton, coffee, cocoa,
indigo, as well as other dyestuffs, fruits and spices. But among all of the
staple crops produced in the Caribbean, sugar dominated. During the
seventeenth and especially the eighteenth century, sugar production
experienced unprecedented growth as the demand swelled in European
markets. The production of colonial staples created enormous wealth and
it shaped the social conditions involved in its production in a fundamental
way. It engaged thousands and thousands of settlers, cultivators, planters,
agents, merchants, mariners and craftsmen. Its labor-intensive needs led

2
The quote is from Julius Scott III, “The Common Wind: Currents of Afro-American
Communication in the Era of the Haitian Revolution,” (Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation,
Duke University, 1986), 68; Klooster, “Transnationalism ‘Beyond the Line’, 1655–1763,”
(Paper presented at the 19th International Congress of Historical Sciences, Oslo, 6–13 August
2000), 11.
42
to the enslavement of millions of Africans, who toiled and suffered
through “one of the harshest systems of servitude in history.”3

The relative value of sugarcane over any other crop led to the sacrifice
of all the best land in the colonies. Often perceived as the principal object
of colonization in the West Indies, sugar prevailed over bare subsistence
crops and pasture for livestock. Sugar monoculture in the Caribbean had
many extreme expressions, but Barbados are among the foremost of them.
Eighty percent of the land in Barbados in 1767 was devoted to sugar cane.
Some of the Caribbean island economies were more diversified, especially
the larger islands with more geographic variation such as Jamaica, SaintDomingue and Cuba. These had greater preconditions for self-sufficiency,
but were nevertheless in essence agricultural economies dominated by
colonial staples intended for export. West Indian societies, with their
large chattel workforces, in the face of which most white elites lived in
constant fear, were dependent on the outside world. They depended on
importations of food. They needed grain, livestock and fish to feed large
slave populations. They depended as well on the necessaries for island
infrastructures, ship- and housebuilding, and the artisan industries.
Deforestation, hurricanes and the volcanic geology of most islands
necessitated importation from external sources most of the required
lumber, lime, stone and metal. Vast amount of wood and staves were
simply needed for the manufacture of crates and barrels essential to export
the produce of plantation labor. Households and administrative bodies
needed the smallest refined products such as paper, paint, oils, fats, ink and
candles. There was hardly any indigenous production of these necessaries
of life in the highly specialized and bureaucratic societies of the colonial
Americas.4

3
Richard S. Dunn, Sugar and Slaves: The Rise of the Planter Class in the English West Indies, 1624–
1713 (New York, 1973), 224; Carole Shammas, “The revolutionary impact of European demand
for tropical goods,” in The Early Modern Atlantic Economy, ed. John J. McCusker and Kenneth
Morgan (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 163–185; Douglas R. Egerton et al.,
The Atlantic World: A History, 1400–1888 (Wheeling: Harlan Davidson, 2007), 217–50.
4
Pares, War and Trade, 403–418, 475–94; Klooster, Illicit Riches, 117–34.
43
Colonial empires early on strove for the principle of exclusivity,
attempting to contain all trade within its own territories. The effort to do
this within the Spanish empire was articulated by the carrera de las indias, a
system of regular transatlantic shipments and convoys. The carrera as well
as other schemes nevertheless quickly turned out to be insufficient.
Shipments were seldom large enough to meet colonial demand, and they
were furthermore often infiltrated by foreign cargoes. Dutch and English
merchants were among the first entrepreneurs to exploit the convoy
systems, who sold their merchandise to Spanish merchants or simply used
them as figureheads for their own commercial voyages. After centuries,
Seville and Cádiz became home to sizeable cohorts of foreign merchants
actively engaged in the trade with South America. When they finally
settled in colonies of their own instead of simply encroaching on Spanish
territories, other European powers harbored ambitions of unrestricted
trade with bullion-rich Spanish America. Silver was, in the eyes of the
governments of fiscal-military states, a premium commodity. The asiento
de negros can be said to be an illustration of these conditions. The asiento
was the license given by the Spanish government to other countries for a
monopoly on the African slave trade to Spanish territories in the New
World. On the one hand, it exemplified the Spanish empire’s inability to
supply its growing plantations with enough slaves, and the pragmatic
attitude to foreign profits in colonial trade. On the other hand, the asiento
came to be regarded as the ultimate prize by European governments, who
competed to secure it for themselves.5
In reality, imperial regulatory power was often more circumscribed
than what many scholars have characterized them to be. Inter-imperial
smuggling became a time-honored tradition with some strong elements of
communal solidarity in colonies in the face of imperial authority.
Smuggling was often condoned or overseen by colonial magistrates, who
either were forced to accept its necessity for the economic life or indeed
survival of the societies they were appointed to govern. In other cases, it
was socially necessary for the colonial administrator to look between his

5
Pearce, British Trade, 11–15, 18–25; Klooster, “Inter-Imperial Smuggling,” 154–56, 165.
44
fingers because suppression of illicit commerce would elicit widespread
protests or even persecution. In the colonial Americas, there were
numerous accounts of customs collectors and coast guards whose work was
obstructed, even to the point where coast guard vessels were burned and
offensive characters were tarred and feathered by angry mobs. Restrictive
measures could lead to full-blown rebellions, as enforcement of unpopular
laws were seen as an affront to colonial inhabitants’ way of life.6
However, the authorities’ limited means to exert power alone do not
explain the complicity in contraband trade or other irregularities. Officials
of every rank had to foment good relations with colonial elites, and it was
these elites that quite often had a large stake in illegal imports and exports,
if not also the officials themselves. Officials connived at the contraband
trade, then, for they were after all members of the communities in which
they resided and had to maintain their most important personal
relationships. Connivance had its roots elsewhere than only the
corruptibility of officials. Local elites exerted a strong pressure on colonial
authority and the practice of everyday decision-making. Sentiments and
loyalties could go any which way. Connivance for colonial authorities was
simply a way in which to respond to the mixture of loyalty and opposition
they encountered among the local elite. Compromises were deemed
necessary, for strict adherence to the law might prove untenable in a
colonial situation, or even incompatible with the interests of colonial
commerce. Enforcing the law was on occasion considered a greater threat
to communal peace than connivance. Peace and quiet often trumped over
strict considerations of law and prohibition. Occasionally the officials
took the issue of law enforcement seriously, if only to play to the gallery in
the metropole. They could always sidestep restrictions by issuing
temporary trading licenses to foreigners, by invoking public needs in the
face of emergencies such as hurricanes, earthquakes, and fires.

6
Klooster, “Inter-Imperial Smuggling,” 170, 175.
45
Occasionally, however, governors only fabricated or misrepresented the
existence of an emergency in order to bypass inconvenient restrictions.7
Sometimes even national policy came into play when trade restrictions
needed to be skirted. Great Britain, with its dominating navy, had since
the period of the Seven Years’ War asserted control over colonial
waterways and set about disrupting transports of colonial produce from
the West Indies to France. France countered by lifting its prohibitive
colonial policies and promptly opened up its trade to neutrals. Neutrals, in
this context, effectively meant the Dutch. The purpose of this move was
to take advantage of the simple fact that Britain had since long a “free
ships-free goods” commitment to the Netherlands dating from a treaty in

The measure naturally provoked a strong response from the British
Government, which saw fit to invent a far-reaching judicial doctrine,
which came to be known as the “rule of 1756.” The doctrine held that as a
matter of general international law, as opposed to the limited scope of any
treaty interpretation, neutrals were not to be allowed to enter into a new
trade relationship during wartime which was closed to them in peacetime.
The positive effect of this doctrine was now that any neutral ship is good
prize if it sails under enemy license or charter. The rule could be
summarized as holding that neutrals were entitled to trade with the enemy,
but not for him.8
Neutral traders however quickly devised various stratagems and
techniques to circumvent it. One of the most obvious and important
methods was to launder enemy colonial goods by simulating their entry

7
Klooster, “Transnationalism ‘Beyond the Line,’” 6–8; Jacques Mathieu, Le commerce entre
la Nouvelle-France et les Antilles XVIIIe siècle (Montréal: Fides, 1981), 212–13; Sherry
Johnson, Climate and Catastrophe in Cuba and the Atlantic World in the Age of Revolution (Chapel
Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2012), 193–202.
8
Stephen Neff, The Rights and Duties of Neutrals: A General History (New York: Manchester
University Press, 2000), 65–66; Stephen Neff, “Britain and the Neutrals in the French
Revolutionary Wars: The Debate over Reprisals and Third Parties,” in Trade and War: The
Neutrality of Commerce in the Inter-State System, ed. Koen Stapelbroek (Helsinki: Helsinki
Collegium for Advanced Studies, 2011), 229–50; Victor Enthoven, “Neutrality: Atlantic
Shipping in and after the Anglo-Dutch Wars,” in Mercantilism Reimagined: Political Economy
in Early Modern Britain and Its Empire, ed. Philip J. Stern and Carl Wennerlind (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2014), 328–47.
46
into a neutral port. Thus a merchant vessel would land, or at least certify a
landing in writing, a cargo in a neutral port after arriving from an enemy
market, only to carry it further to the enemy motherland, i.e. France. On
the first leg of this voyage, the cargo would be safe from capture, because
it would consist of neutral goods, that is, goods consigned to a neutral party
in a neutral state, while the goods still came from an enemy colony. On the
second leg of this journey, the goods would also be protected from capture,
provided that they were carried on a neutral party’s own account, and not
consigned to any identified enemy party in the destination, the enemy
state. Various instances of this method, particularly performed by
merchants in the Thirteen Colonies, was already common during the
Seven Years’ War, and the British quickly introduced an additional rule,
or, the continuous-voyage doctrine, holding that such interrupted-voyage
schemes actually constituted one continuous voyages and thus were in
violation of the rule of 1756.9
Whereas smuggling in itself often found tacit or open acceptance by
colonial leadership, the role of foreigners in domestic and colonial trade
was always viewed to be detrimental. Colonial societies were often
ethnically mixed and large cohorts of foreigners usually made up a
significant portion of populations. The Dutch were often viewed as a
problem. The crucial role of the Dutch in the carrying trade of several
nations was indeed a large part of the impetus behind exclusivist trade
policies such as the Navigation Acts of 1651. The role of the Dutch in
French domestic commerce was crucial, and was mirrored by similar
activities in the French colonies. A great number of Dutch traders lived
and worked in the French Caribbean during the course of the 17th century,
and sizeable portions of the French residents in the colonies were debtors
in Dutch banks and commercial firms. The most extreme form of French
mercantilist measures took place in the French part of St. Kitts in 1663,
when over sixty Dutch warehouses were set on fire, and was followed by a

9
Neff, Rights and Duties, 65–68.
47
range of prohibitions and other legal measures by the French to reassert
their authority in the colonies.10
In the long run, however, smuggling and border-crossing trade
intensified, and was already universal at the beginning of the 18th century.
A great source of smuggling endeavors besides the Spanish-bound
commerce was the shipping of British North America. Respective
problems with their mother countries brought on a close relationship
between the British colonies and the French West Indies. An expanded
demand in British North America for French colonial sugar and its byproducts spelled out a solution for aggrieved French sugar cultivators, who
had problems selling their rum and molasses to France. The illicit imports
of sugar, rum, and molasses into the British North American colonies from
foreign colonies was a thorn in the side of the British planters and the
British West Indian interests in general. In 1733 Whitehall passed the
Molasses Act in response to the dwindling legal trade of the sugar islands.
The Molasses Act imposed heavy duties on rum, molasses, and sugar
imported into the American colonies from foreign colonies. The British
West Indian interest, a powerful lobby in parliamentary circles, hoped
thus to force British American colonists to buy from only their own, more
expensive sugar products. In the ports of New England, the stipulations of
the Act were however subject to routine evasion and obstruction. Bribery
at a customary rate which was only a fraction of the statutory tax share of
the value of foreign goods to customs officials was generally enough to
clear customs at New York and Massachusetts.11
During the conflicts of the 18th century, however, smuggling and illicit
trade could not operate by way of direct exchanges. Neutral shipping and
free ports became crucial institution by which the continuity of the system
was guaranteed. Their establishment and history is paramount to the
understanding of trade in the region.

10 Klooster, “Inter-Imperial Smuggling,” 158–59.
11 Klooster, “Inter-Imperial Smuggling, 170–71; ”Victor Enthoven, “’That Abominable Nest
of Pirates’: St. Eustatius and the North Americans 1680–1780,” Early American Studies 10, no.
2 (2012): 239–301.
48
Free Ports and Neutral Subterfuges
With the passage of time, neutral free ports gradually emerged as
convenient marketplaces that facilitated commerce between traders of
various nationalities. These ports were either formally declared free ports,
or had simply evolved into de facto free ports after decades of established
practice. Immediately from its first colonization, the English at Jamaica
exploited the island’s strategic location in the center of the West Indies to
make it an entrepôt in the Spanish colonial trade. Merchants settled in
Jamaican Port Royal conducted their commerce all along the Spanish
Main and in the traditional smugglers’ dens in the islands. By providing
slaves, these merchants were also capable of trading at the principal ports
of Portobello, Cartagena, and Havana. This trade, a precursor of the sugar
economy of the island, accumulated riches and allowed the prospering
merchants to invest their windfall into the island’s plantation hinterlands.
The prosperous period was however cut short when Port Royal was
destroyed by a devastating earthquake in 1692, causing large portions of
the town to fall into the sea.12
There were other locales of informal trading which essentially were not
port towns or proper marketplaces. In 1750, by royal dispensation, the
Spanish crown had granted San Fernando de Monte Cristi of Santo
Domingo the right to trade for ten years with ships of all nations that were
at peace with Spain. Monte Cristi was a sparsely settled village on the
northwestern tip of Santo Domingo. At the time Monte Cristi was not
even a proper seaport. The entire Bay of Monte Cristi, was little more than
the home of a few fishermen and their families. Its proximity to the SaintDomingue border and its free trade status however made it to one of the
largest commercial subterfuges during the Seven Years’ War. There

12 Nuala Zahedieh, “The Merchants of Port Royal, Jamaica, and the Spanish Contraband
Trade, 1655–1692,” The William & Mary Quarterly 43, no. 4 (1986): 570–93; Nuala Zahedieh,
“Trade, Plunder, and Economic Development in Early English Jamaica, 1655–1689,” The
Economic History Review 39, no. 2 (1986): 205–22; Allan Christelow, “Contraband Trade
between Jamaica and the Spanish Main, and the Free Port Act of 1766,” Hispanic American
Historical Review 22 (1942), 312.
49
emerged at Monte Cristi became a thinly disguised market for North
American, Irish, British, and neutral European provisions, lumber, and
naval stores, as well as slaves and the usual, large variety of manufactured
consumer goods. The return cargoes in exchange for these wares consisted
of the produce of the Saint-Domingue plantation economy. Short
smuggling runs to Cap François on the French side could be arranged by
having the crews of foreign ships replaced with a Spanish ones in the Bay.
The new crews would then head westwards by sea while the original crew
took the land route to market in Cap François. As much as 150 vessels
could be moored in the Bay at a given day, and made it essentially into a
floating city, where goods changed hands on seaboard rather than on
shore.13
The Dutch were however the most established operators of Caribbean
free ports. The Caribbean islands of Curaçao and St. Eustatius were the
essential hubs through which the Dutch interacted with and traded in the
region. These colonies also became two of the most important subterfuges
in established colonial systems. The shippers and traders of these colonies
employed the strategies and tactics of the kleine vaart (small navigation),
that is, expeditions with small, fast-sailing boats in an unfettered interisland commerce. Access and closeness markets were key in this trade,
which explains why Curaçao traded mainly on the Caracas coast and St.
Eustatius traded principally with the French Antilles. While European
goods flowing to the Caracas coast became the essential condition for
Curaçao, the burgeoning American trade to the French colonies became
the hallmark for St. Eustatius’ trade. Curaçao’s immense trading
operations on Spanish settlements on the Caracas coast (present-day
Venezuela) held sway for nearly two centuries. Dutch shippers carried
huge quantities of cacao, hides, tobacco, and other products from the
Spanish colonies in exchange for Dutch and German textiles and
manufactures which were in high demand. Treaties between Spain and the
Dutch Republic as well as Spanish law essentially forbade these activities,
but the relationship was important enough to risk retribution for both

13 Truxes, Defying Empire, 72–86.
50
sides. The ingenuity of smugglers as well as the connivance of Spanish
officials would always ensure the continuity of the illicit traffic.14
From St. Eustatius, the Dutch were integrated into the French colonial
sphere in a similar way, siphoning off large shipments of French sugar that
were fed into the colony’s bilateral trade to the Dutch Republic A
travelling British woman visiting the Lower Town of Oranjestad in 1775
commented that “From one end of the town of Eustatia to the other is a
continued mart, where goods of the most different uses and qualities are
displayed before the shop doors,” She was impressed with the “rich
embroideries, painted silks, flowered muslins, with all the manufactures of
the Indies.” She claimed never to have seen such commercial variety
elsewhere, with different merchants bartering their goods in their stalls “in
Dutch, another in French, and a third in Spanish.” While the colony built
on a long tradition, its illicit imports of rum, sugar, and molasses from the
French and Spanish West Indies to the North American colonies was
always nuisance for planter interests in the imperial metropoles. The
British Molasses Act in 1733, directed against the importation of foreign
sugar and molasses from foreign colonies into North American colonies,
actually ended up adding incentive to sustain this illicit trade through free
ports. After the declaration of the act, a majority of the imported sugar and
molasses into New York had its origin in St. Eustatius.15
There were other free ports with highly similar characteristics as the
Dutch colonies. On a smaller scale, French settlers in the Caribbean traded
with their British neighbors. Danish St. Thomas furnished some
possibilities for Franco-British trade. During the Nine Years’ War (1688–

14 Klooster, Illicit Riches, 49–68; Wim Klooster, “Curaçao as a Transit Center to the Spanish
Main and the French West Indies,” in Dutch Atlantic Connections, 1680–1800: Linking Empires,
Bridging Borders, ed. Gert Oostindie and Jessica Roitman (Leiden: Brill, 2014), 275–308.
15 The quote is from a Journal of a Lady of Quality, ed. Evangeline Walker Andrews and Charles
McLean Andrews (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1921), 135–38; Enthoven, “’That
Abominable Nest of Pirates,’” 270–72; John J. McCusker and Russel R. Menard, The Economy
of British America, 1607–1789, Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1991, 161–64;
Alvin Rabushka, Taxation in Colonial America (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008),
305, 449, 735; Jarvis, In the Eye of All Trade, 165; Matson, Merchants & Empire, 213–14; Pares,
Yankees and Creoles, 59–61.
51
97), it assumed somewhat of a role as a local entrepôt, and while the War
of the Spanish Succession (1701–14) lasted, rum, sugar, cotton, and indigo
from the Leeward Islands were diverted through the colony to the French
islands, as well as provisions from Boston, Carolina, Pennsylvania, and
New York. The governor of Barbados stated that the Danish island “in
time of war ever has been and is the staple for all sort of indirect and illegal
trade and commerce.” It also assumed close contacts with its neighbors in
the Spanish colonies, especially in Puerto Rico where St. Thomas as well
as St. Croix traders were buyers of sugar.16

The Caribbean in an Age of Reform and Revolution
The colonial societies of the Caribbean underwent radical transformations
in the decades leading up to the 19th century. Revolutionary fervor
followed in the Thirteen Colonies in the wake of the imperial crackdown
after the Seven Years’ War, leading finally to the division of the British
Empire in the West Indies. After U.S. independence, British imperial
policy immediately underwent a process of review. The question of
commercial relations between the newly created United States and the
British colonies was the first concern of a British Committee of Trade
created in 1784. After years of deliberation, the Americans were
permanently excluded in 1788. American ships were also, importantly, not
admitted into the British system of free ports.17
In the view taken by Whitehall, there was a crucial distinction between
the tropical colonies of other European powers, for which the free port
trade had been intended, and the sovereign United States. Along the lines
of this logic, there was an existing direct trade with the United States in
British manufactures that should not depend on the free port channels.

16 Klooster, “Inter-Imperial Smuggling,” 165; Quote from Angel López Cantos,
”Contrabando, corso y situado en el siglo XVII: una economía subterránea,” Anales : Revista
de Ciencias Sociales e Historia de la Universidad Interamericana de Puerto Rico Recinto de San
Germán 1, no. 2 (1985): 31–53.
17 28 Geo. III, cap. 6. American ships were only admitted into British colonies again in 1822.
52
Secondly, it was reasoned that the American products needed in British
factories would arrive faster by going directly from American ports rather
than being transshipped from British colonies. The prime reason for the
exclusion of American ships was however the very natural fear that
Americans would become the carriers of British colonial produce to
Europe, and so injure British shipping which was the linchpin of the
Navigation Acts. Individual British merchants and planters did however
not agree with the government’s line, and time to time stressed their own
dependence on the North American trade. Despite their sometimes
vociferous protests, the matter was a foregone conclusion in government
circles. In the designs of certain British statesmen, the Northern
American territories would supplant the former Thirteen Colonies as the
prime supplier of the British Caribbean colonies.18
The United States was in its early years of independence a fledgling
agricultural-commercial state with an underdeveloped internal economy
and very narrow industrial sector. Furthermore, it was still reeling from the
effects of the war and legacy of historical economic ties with Great Britain.
Its economic policy became as a result increasingly tied to the hopes of an
economic policy of foreign trade founded on liberal commercial principles.
Early U.S. efforts were geared towards Caribbean markets as treaties with
European powers often failed to produce the desired freedoms of trade.
U.S. overtures concerning possible trading entrepôts were however
frustrated time and time again. Despite the limited concessions France
had made to American trade in the West Indies, the way towards opening
markets further was met face-on by compact mercantile opposition in an
economically depressed France. Spain and Portugal also refused to open
up their Caribbean and continental ports for American ships. The Dutch
were another matter, as they readily agreed to allow American trade with
its Caribbean colonies of St. Eustatius, Curaçao, and St. Martin, as well as
Surinam, Berbice, Demerara, and Essequibo. After all, St. Eustatius had

18 Armytage, The Free Port System, 34, 53, 55–56, 130–34; Anna Cornelia Clauder, “American
Commerce as Affected by the Wars of the French Revolution and Napoleon, 1793–1812”
(PhD diss., University of Pennsylvania, 1932), 15–26.
53
already established itself in the past as a vital commercial link for the
rebellious Thirteen Colonies during the newly concluded war. Yet there
were some serious limitations even in this instance. The Dutch restricted
what Americans could import and export, especially the most important
cargoes such as coffee and sugar. Still, even in the face of such restrictions,
quantities of prohibited goods continued to be smuggled under the guise
of carrying legal cargoes. The neutral colonial powers were ever-present in
the thinking of American statesmen. John Adams asserted that “the Dutch
and Danes will avail themselves of every error that may be committed by
France or England. It is good to have a variety of strings to our bow.”19
In the West Indies, conditions became volatile on account of
revolutionary unrest and international conflict. Most colonies suffered
either foreign invasion or internal revolt, with tens of thousands of soldiers
poured into the region between 1793 and 1815, thousands of refugees were
displaced and local shipping was disrupted on an unprecedented scale.
Slave rebellions had been commonplace in plantation societies for
centuries, but when the community of the enslaved and free black
population revolted in Saint-Domingue in 1791, the pillars of white rule in
the region where shook in their foundation. The rebels’ defeat of French,
British, and Spanish armies and the independence of Haiti in 1804 were
sources of constant consternation and fear among white colonial
inhabitants, fearing that revolutionary sentiment might spread to slaves
elsewhere in the Caribbean.20
Despite the general wartime disruption as well as the removal of vast
plantation output and the market of Saint-Domingue, the colonial

19 McDonald, “The Chance of the Moment: Coffee and the New West Indies Commodities
Trade,” The William & Mary Quarterly 62, no. 3 (2005): 454–55; Merrill D. Peterson, “Thomas
Jefferson and Commercial Policy, 1783–1793,” The William & Mary Quarterly 22, no. 4 (1965),
585–86; see also Thomas Jefferson to James Madison, 8 May 1784, in The Papers of Thomas
Jefferson, ed. Julian P. Boyd (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1953), VII: 231–35; Adams’
quote in John Adams to Robert Livingston, 16 July 1783, in The Revolutionary Diplomatic
Correspondence of the United States, ed. Francis Wharton (Washington: Government Printing
Office, 1889): VI, 551.
20 David Patrick Geggus, “Slavery, War, and Revolution in the Greater Caribbean, 1789–
1815,” in A Turbulent Time: The French Revolution and the Greater Caribbean, ed. David Barry
Gaspar and David Patrick Geggus (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1997), 1–50.
54
economies of the Americas surged during the turn of the 19th century. Slave
imports to the Caribbean fell comparatively slowly in the 1790s from their
peak level in the 1780s. For instance, Spanish West Indian sugar
production tripled, and plantation agriculture in the British and Danish
colonies expanded insofar as it compensated for the fall in regional French
and Dutch production. Taking in the fact of rising markets prizes,
increased customs duties, freight and insurance rates, the value of
Caribbean commerce grew significantly during the wars around the turn of
the century.21

The entrepôt of St. Eustatius had been destabilized ever since the
British and French invasions in 1781. The British occupation of St.
Eustatius in 1781 only lasted for ten months but had caused an immense
amount of damage: all merchandise, specie, and to some extent also the
private property of resident merchants and planters were seized. Although
substantial, the losses did not topple the colony as a regional entrepôt. But
there were serious worries, about nascent competition from neutral
colonies of St. Thomas and St. Barthélemy, and about various free trade
experiments in the region by the Spanish, French and British. The
situation only turned acute when the WIC decided to introduce a new
tariff on imports and exports which suddenly turned the prospects of the
island towards a very uncertain future. The two commercial colonies,
Curaçao and St. Eustatius, it was thought, were to be made more profitable
for WIC. For St. Eustatius, this meant that an eight percent tariff would
be introduced on most articles from both Europe and the American
colonies that were exchanged on the island. This led to a discussion
concerning how all the economic interests of all parties involved in Statian
trade could best be served. The most vehement protests against the
measures came from the Statian merchants, who carried the sentiments in
lengthy petitions and letters. The measures were widely regarded as a
deathblow to the island’s commerce, its only livelihood. Several prominent

21 Seymour Drescher, Econocide: British Slavery in the Era of Abolition (Pittsburgh: University
of Pittsburgh Press, 1977), 76–91, 116; Douglass North, “Ocean Freight Rates and Economic
Development 1750–1913,” The Journal of Economic History 18, no. 3 (1958): 537–55.
55
merchant houses moved to St. Barthélemy in protest, because it was
expected that Sweden would remain neutral in an eventual international
conflict. The demise of the Danish free port of St. Thomas followed in
1807, as it was placed under British occupation as a consequence of Danish
foreign policy during the later stages of the Napoleonic Wars. In this
completely altered economic constellation in the Caribbean, St.
Barthélemy emerged in a novel position as the sole neutral free port in the
region.22
The maritime warfare of the region in 1793–1815 was predominantly of
an informal type. As per an old tradition in the Americas, swift coasting
vessels were converted into corsairs and privateers and wrought havoc
among regional shipping. It was a generally recognized precept of
international law that each belligerent in wartime had the power to set up
prize courts for the adjudication of enemy prizes. As such, these Courts
were temporary, separate, and amenable to statutory regulation. Prize
cases were theoretically subject solely of international laws of contraband
and blockade as modified by treaties, but they were adjudicated in courts
that were closely under the control of one nation, by laws completely
accepted only by that nation. The cases that caused the most disputes were
the ones in which the application of prize law were tried on neutrals, which
were also the ones who suffered the worst depredations. In this hostile
environment, the free port trade through St. Barthélemy could still thrive
in the face of risk and adversity. The operation and nature of the Swedish
free port will be discussed in the following chapters.23

22 Öström to Rejmers, 10 January 1795, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 169, SNA; Jessica V. Roitman
and Han Jordaan, “Fighting a foregone conclusion. Local interest groups, West Indian
merchants, and St. Eustatius, 1780–1810,” Tijdschrift voor sociale en economische
geschiedenis 12, no. 1 (2015): 79–100; See also Linda Rupert, “Inter-colonial networks and
revolutionary ferment in eighteenth-century Curaçao and Tierra Firme,” in Curaçao in the
Age of Revolutions, 1795–1800 (Leiden: KITLV Press, 2011), 75–96.
23 Michael Craton, “The Caribbean Vice Admiralty Courts, 1763–1815; Indispensable Agents
of an Imperial System,” (McMaster University, unpublished PhD-thesis, 1975) 129–130;
Michel Rodigneaux, La guerre de course en Guadeloupe, XVIIIe–XIXe siècles ou Alger sous les
Tropiques (Paris : L’Harmattan, 2006), 25–43, 57–69.
56
2.2 Swedish Colonialism and the Foundation of Gustavia
Despite its diminutive size and its relatively low value to the Swedish
Crown, St. Barthélemy still faced its owner with the same questions of
control, stability, and territorial sovereignty as larger colonial empires.
Strong exertions of pressure both from external powers as well as local
elites in the colonies. It has been argued that in the colonial societies of
the West Indies, “the new social class of colonial settlers, planters and
entrepreneurs were at once, in the English settlements, Anglo-Saxon and
anti-English, in the Spanish settlements pro-Hispanic and anti-Spanish, in
the French settlements Gallic and anti-French.” With a weak military and
administrative infrastructure, metropolitan authorities in St. Barthélemy
displayed some unique and pragmatic thinking when faced with the
problems of colonization.24
Sweden formally acquired the French colony of St. Barthélemy on the
1
st of July 1784. It thus received the island in a relatively calm period in the
Caribbean, well before the region experienced the great upheavals at the
close of the century. Sweden’s late acquisition of a colony was however not
a consequence of lacking ambition. There were other limitations at play.
Situated in the northern periphery of Europe, the kingdom of Sweden
faced serious practical and political obstacles in the face of colonial plans.
The colonies of New Sweden in Delaware (1638–55) and the Swedish slaving
fort at Cabo Corso (1650–63) on the African West Coast were ambitious
Swedish endeavors carried out with government support and financing.
But they also owed substantially to the efforts of foreign actors. Dutchmen
in particular supplied their personal capital and expertise, and were often
the primary drivers behind many projects. Dutch entrepreneurs often used
Swedish institutions as a front against the Dutch chartered companies
which they themselves opposed. Indeed, foreign expertise and investment

24 Quote from Gordon K. Lewis, Main Currents in Caribbean Thought: The Historical
Evolution of Caribbean Society in its Ideological Aspects, 1492–1900 (London, Johns
Hopkins University Press, 1983), 75.
57
was and would remain a salient feature of Swedish colonial and commercial
efforts throughout the 17th and 18th centuries.25
The development of early Swedish colonies were also constantly
hindered by foreign powers. Swedish colonists faced obstruction and
aggression from neighboring colonies with more resources and more
experience. New Sweden was seized by the Dutch in 1655 and Cabo Corso
was taken over by the Danish in 1658. Most Swedish imperial ventures were
however mostly directed towards its territorial borders and the countries
of the South Baltic. Expansion finally ceased in the beginning of the 18th
century. Sweden then suffered significant territorial losses, as the Baltic
provinces were conquered by Russia and the territories in northern
Germany reduced.26
During the 18th century, Sweden experienced a dramatic shift in its
political system, commonly referred to as The Age of Liberty (1718–1772).
The disasters in the Russo-Swedish wars heralded this transition, as the
Swedish monarchy became circumscribed and gave way to the
parliamentary oligarchy of the Swedish Diet. The period is significant in
the context of colonial ventures and foreign trade as it brought with it
reorientations in economic policy. In general, the chief aim was to make
Sweden more independent in the spheres of trade and industry. One of the
first and most successful measures of the period was the mercantilist
Navigation Act of 1724. It was modelled closely after its English precursor,
and its primary target was Dutch shipping, which had since long
dominated the grain imports into the Baltic. During the course of the
century, Swedish shipping expanded considerably both quantitatively and
in geographic scope. The Swedish share of shipping through the Sound
(Øresund) rose from 50% in 1734 to 80% in 1776. Prior to 1700, Swedish

25 Leos Müller, ”Great Power Constraints and the Growth of the Commercial Sector: The
Case of Sweden, 1600–1800” in A Deus ex Machina Revisited. Atlantic Colonial Trade and
European Economic Development, ed. P.C. Emmer, O. Pétré-Grenouilleau and J.V. Roitman
(Leiden: Brill, 2006), 317–51; György Nováky, Handelskompanier och kompanihandel. Svenska
Afrikakompaniet 1649–1663. En studie i fe0dal handel (Uppsala: Acta Universitatis Uppsaliensis,
1990).
26 Nováky, Svenska Afrikakompaniet, 201–07; Michael Roberts, The Swedish Imperial
Experience, 1560–1718 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979).
58
ships rarely left the Baltic and the North Sea. Sweden also signed formal
successive treaties with the so-called Barbary States during the course of
the 18th century. A steadily rising numbers of Swedish ships began
navigating in Portuguese and Mediterranean ports. An extensive Swedish
consular network was established in the 1720s and 1730s from Malaga to
Marseille, Venice, Alicante, Livorno, Alger, Tunis, Tripoli, and
Morocco.27
Chartered companies were projects in a similar vein. The single most
successful enterprise was the Swedish China trade under the helm of the
Swedish East India Company (SOIC). Created in 1731, the company
focused on Canton and the tea trade, usually pursuing one or two
expeditions annually. SOIC traded in Canton under the same conditions
as the other European companies. Its imports of tea into European ports
were substantial, and almost all tea was re-exported from Gothenburg. It
was distributed (and smuggled) to the Dutch Republic, the Austrian
Netherlands, France, and Britain. Despite its Swedish charter, the
company initially in fact was a joint effort between the Swedish state,
Swedish merchants, Scottish personnel as well as Dutch capital. There was
a strong link between the dissolution of the Ostend East India Company
(1727–31) and the foundation of SOIC. Its shareholders would however be
comprised of more and more Swedish merchants over time. The company
ran through three successive charters before it was liquidated in straitened
circumstances in 1813. SOIC’s business, although profitable for a long time,
started to falter when the British and the Dutch imposed more effective
controls of their imports of tea in the 1780s.28

Despite the absence of remote territorial conquests, Swedish ideas of
settlements were never completely abandoned. Long in the wake of New

27 Heckscher, Sveriges ekonomiska historia, II: 669–78; Müller, ”Great Power Constraints,”
337–38; Müller, Consuls, Corsairs, and Commerce, 40–45, 49–165; An old but still valid treatment
of Swedish relations on the North African Coast is Johan Henrik Kreüger, Sveriges förhållande
till barbaresk staterna i Afrika (Stockholm: Norstedts, 1856).
28 Leos Müller, “The Swedish East India Trade and International Markets: Re-exports of
teas, 1731–1813,” Scandinavian Economic History Review 3 (2003): 28–44; Müller, ”Great Power
Constraints,” 338–42; Christian Koninckx, The First and Second Charters of the Swedish East
India Company (1731–1766) (Kotrijk: van Ghemmert, 1980), 15–17, 38–42, 51–54.
59
Sweden and Cabo Corso, there followed a string of different projects to
acquire a colony of some kind. In the West Indies, a recurring design were
Swedish dynastic claims to the island of Tobago, by virtue of the Swedish
royal relations to the Duchy of Courland. The question was discussed in
the Privy Council (Riksrådet)
29 and in the Board of Commerce, but never
amounted to much in the way of concrete action. Tobago was one of the
so-called Neutral Islands in contestation between France and Britain after
the island had been all but abandoned by Couronian interests.30
A short-lived project was the first Swedish West India Company which
had its charter issued in 1746. The project was quickly thwarted at least in
part by foreign suspicions of Swedish interloping trade. The charter had
been awarded to the family firm of Arfwedson in Gothenburg, who had
abandoned their rights to the company in 1747 after the Spanish minister
in Stockholm had voiced the policy of the Spanish crown against any
possible incursions of foreign trade in Spanish America. A share in
smuggling and illicit trade indeed were among the prospects. Such an
ambition was present in a project which involved the establishment of a
trading post around the river Barima. The plan had its origins in a circle of
Amsterdam merchants in 1728, who sought Swedish support and financing
for it. A Swedish expedition was organized as a result, through the means
of a few members of the mercantile elite in Gothenburg. The expedition
reached its destination, and a treaty was signed with local Indians as a

29 The term Privy Council can incidentally refer to another Swedish government body, sekreta
utskottet, whose primary concern was foreign policy. The composition of the riksråd and
sekreta utskottet were however very much overlapping, and Privy Council will be used as a
translation of the former, unless stated otherwise.
30 The most extensive treatment on the subject of Swedish colonial projects during the
eighteenth century is given by C.K.S. Sprinchorn, ”Sjuttonhundratalets planer och förslag till
svensk kolonisation i främmande världsdelar,” Historisk tidskrift 43 (1923): 109–162. On the socalled neutral islands, see Pares, War and Trade, 195–202, 208–11.
60
patent for further settlement, but nothing else did however follow out of
this effort.31

The ascension of King Gustav III after his 1772 coup was a watershed
in colonial questions. During his early rule, further economic reform
programs were undertaken, and colonial trade and production were seen
as potential revenue devices for long-ailing state finances. Gustav III had
an intense personal interest in overseas colonies, and would later prove
instrumental in the negotiations with France that led to the acquisition of
St. Barthélemy. Gustav voiced many familiar arguments in favor of a
Swedish colony. A share of the world’s sugar production was a highly
coveted goal of his, and Gustav was also convinced that a tropical colony
could bring nothing but benefits to domestic manufactures as well as to
commercial and maritime interests.32
In 1784, the same year that St. Barthélemy was finally ceded from
France, the poet and writer Johan Kellgren published an essay which
specifically promoted the idea of a West Indian colony. It promoted
colonialism in Sweden, and summarized the past colonial debate as
nothing more than empty discussion. Of note, the essay also echoed the
same pro-colonial opinions and arguments as the king. There is good
reason to suppose that the essay was written on the request of Gustav III.

31 Sprinchorn, “svensk kolonisation,” 118–20, 122–25, 129–130; Ivar Simonsson, “Abraham
Arfwedson,” in Svenskt biografiskt lexikon 2 (Stockholm: Bonniers, 1920), 160–61; Axel Paulin,
”Skeppet Fortunas expedition till ’Wilda Kusten af Södra America’,” Forum Navale, no. 10
(1951): 38–95; Edgar Anderson, ”Mysterious Swedish settlements at Tobago and Barima,”
Swedish Pioneer Historical Quarterly 12, no. 4 (1960), 132–145; George Edmundsson, “The
Swedish Legend in Guiana,” The Historical Review 14 (1899): 71–92; For an example of how
prospects in Tobago and Barima were expressed in the thinking of government circles, see
for instance von Höpken to Scheffer, 3 November 1756, in Carl Silfverstolpe, ed., Anders Johan
von Höpkens skrifter, samlade och i urval utgifna af Carl Silfverstolpe (Stockholm, Norstedts,
1890): II, 275–79.
32 Gustav III to Creutz, 10 September 1779, F 479, UUB. Gustav III also saw a prospective
colony as a convenient destination where domestic troublemakers, “touttes les tetes
inquiettes du Royaume”, could be deported; Åke Essén, ”Wilhelm Boltz und die
schwedischen Kolonisierungspläne in Asien,” Bijdragen voor Vaderlandsche Geschiedenis en
Oudheidkunde 7, no. 5 (1935), 83–101; Holden Furber, “In the Footsteps of a German ‘Nabob’:
William Bolts in the Swedish Archives,” in Private Fortunes and Company Profits in the India
Trade in the Eighteenth Century, ed. Rosane Rocher (Aldershot: Variorum, 1997); Robert J.
King, “Gustaf III’s Australian Colony,” The Great Circle 27, no. 2 (2005), 3–20.
61
Kellgren was close to the king and well-informed of his colonial ambitions.
The essay also borrowed heavily from a longer treatise authored by the
nobleman Ulrik Nordenskjöld, published anonymously in 1776.
Nordenskjöld was more focused on the prospects of West African
colonization even though his treatise formally included the West Indies as
well. Drawing largely on contemporary literary sources on the African
continent, he saw the West African Coast as teeming with riches, free for
the taking by enterprising colonists. Nordenskjöld was one of the earliest
Swedes to take a serious interest in the colonization of Africa.33

A short expedition consisting of a few Swedish surveyors was eventually
dispatched to Senegal in 1787. The ambitions behind the voyage was a
peculiar blend of commercial enterprise and religious idealism. It was
funded by royal means, but was spearheaded by representatives of the
highly idiosyncratic Swedenborgian movement, which was intent on
creating new utopian societies in colonial territories. The expedition
lasted only a few months, and was of small gain for its financier and its
participants. By this time however, negotiations on a new colonial outpost
had long since been concluded, and a first expeditionary force of Swedish
officials and soldiers were already engaged in constructing the first
foundations of a city on the island of St. Barthélemy in the Lesser Antilles.
The tangible results of Sweden’s colonial efforts would remain within this
tiny territory, despite future opportunities and ambitions. The long-lived
ideas of other Swedish settlements in the West Indies never fully expired
after its acquisition. As it was, Sweden would for some time regard St.

33 Johan Henric Kellgren, ”Förslag til Nybyggens anläggande i Indien, och på Africanske
Kusten,” Nya Handelsbibliotheket 1 (Stockholm: Nordström, 1784); Cf. Hildebrand, Den
svenska kolonin, 41; Harald Elovsson, ”Kolonialintresset i Sverige under 1700–talet. Några
drag,” Samlaren 9 (1928), 207–211; Lasse Berg, När Sverige upptäckte Afrika (Stockholm: Rabén
Prisma, 1997), 131–32; Deirdre Coleman, Romantic Colonization and British Anti-Slavery
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 91; Åke Essén, Johan Liljencrantz som
handelspolitiker. Studier i Sveriges yttre handelspolitik 1773–1786 (Lund: Gleerup, 1928), 255–56.
62
Barthélemy as only the first stepping-stone in a potentially wider West
Indian empire.34
The Acquisition of St. Barthélemy
The possibility of a Swedish Caribbean colony had finally arisen during the
War of American Independence. At an early stage of the conflict, the
French put forward the proposition that Sweden could obtain a West
Indian colony, or specifically a British colony soon to be conquered by the
French in the upcoming naval conflict. As an exchange, Swedish military
aid to the American rebels was proposed. The idea did not find particular
favor, especially as it involved a strong deviation from the neutral stance
Sweden strove to hold in the conflict.35

Although such an arrangement was impossible, the prospect of a
colonial acquisition in the West Indies certainly interested the Swedish
government. The Caribbean war theater was consequently of special
interest to Swedish diplomats in Paris, and news such as the French
conquest of St. Vincent was received with particular Swedish enthusiasm.
Options were discussed, and Tobago was, as often before, a focal point of
discussion. There were also similar suggestions put forward to the Bourbon

34 For the 1787 expedition, see Sten Davidsson, ”Det gudomliga samhället: Swedenborgskt
Afrikaprojekt och religiös utopi,” (Unpublished master’s thesis, Uppsala University, 1975),
16–24, 68–71, 89–91, 150; Coleman, Romantic Colonization, 69; Klas Rönnbäck,
”Enlightenment, Scientific Exploration and Abolitionism: Anders Sparrman’s and Carl
Bernhard Wadström’s Colonial Encounters in Senegal, 1787–1788 and the British Abolitionist
Movement,” Slavery and Abolition 34, no. 3 (2012): 425–45.
35 Waller, “Det svenska förvärvet av S:t Barthélemy,” 231–255; Cf. C.T. Odhner, Sveriges
politiska historia under Gustaf III:s regering (Stockholm: Norstedts, 1896), II: 78–80, 325–41;
Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 2–3; Léo Elisabeth, ”La cession de Saint-Barthélémy à la
Suède (1779–1785),” Annales des Antilles. Bulletin de la Société d’Historique de la Martinique, no. 31
(1997): 77–93; Swedish officers served in both the French and British forces during the war.
For the complicated Swedish stance in the American War of Independence, see H.A. Barton,
”Sweden and the War of American Independence,” William & Mary Quarterly 23, no. 3 (1966):
408–30; Cf. Adolph Benson, Sweden and the American Revolution (Newhaven: Tuttle,
Moreshouse & Taylor, 1926) and Amandus Johnson, Swedish Contributions to American
Freedom (Philadelphia: Swedish Colonial Foundation, 1953).
63
court in Spain during this time. A primary focus in this effort was the quite
audacious idea of receiving Puerto Rico.36
Despite the frustrated French war effort in the Caribbean after the
British defeat at Yorktown, negotiations on the colonial question between
Sweden and France continued. In lieu of a British conquest, alternative
French colonies were now being discussed. It was clear now, then, that
Tobago would not be ceded under any circumstances. There were several
reasons behind the willingness to cede a colony to the Swedes. It has been
suggested that there was a growing impetus in the French government for
appeasing gestures towards the Swedish crown. In the background was the
precarious international standing of France after the war, as well as French
concerns over Sweden’s closer relations to Russia in 1783–84.37

Another explanation was that the French government was trying new
ways to improve its terms of trade with Sweden. After the conclusion of
the war, the new discussions gave rise to the idea that some kind of mutual
measure was expected in the event of a cession. The old Franco-Swedish
trade treaty of 1741 had given French ships staple rights in Swedish
Wismar, an old Hanseatic harbor that had not served French commercial
interests particularly well. The French balance of trade with Sweden had
since long suffered a deficit, and French staple rights in another Swedish
port were deemed necessary. Gothenburg was offered as an alternative
instead.38

There were other economic considerations that served to frame the
discussion. In particular, there was the argument that the French West
Indies would benefit from the presence of a neutral Swedish colony. This
would, in conjunction with the opening of French West Indian ports to

36Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 11, 21–22; Åke Essén, Johan Liljencrantz, 227–29;
Sprinchorn, ”svensk kolonisation,” 156–62.
37 Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 19–24, 33–39; Odhner, Sveriges politiska historia, II: 325–337;
Olof Jägerskiöld, Den svenska utrikespolitikens historia (Stockholm: Norstedts, 1957), II:2, 287–

38 Paul Walden Bamford, ”French Shipping in Northern European Trade, 1660–1789,” The
Journal of Modern History 26, no. 3 (1954): 207–219; Essén, Johan Liljencrantz, 231–35; Jean
Tarrade, Le commerce colonial, II: 549–50.
64
Swedish ships, mean that the French would have a suitable substitute for
the Dutch carrying trade which supplied its colonies in times of need. The
diplomatic records nevertheless suggest that the colonial supply through
means of neutral shipping was never a pressing concern for the French
government. The neutral trade argument was mostly employed by the
Swedish side.39
Early suggestions for islands included the French part of St. Martin and
Marie Galante, but eventually the final French offer arrived at the small,
sparsely populated island of St. Barthélemy. It is an arid and mountainous
20 sq. km-island in the Lesser Antilles, in the close vicinity of St. Eustatius,
Saba, St. Kitts to the south and southwest, and St. Martin and Anguilla to
the northwest. Under French dominion it never became a plantation
colony. The island’s colonization had initially been organized by the
Maltese Knight Phillippe de Longvilliers de Poincy in 1648 from St. Kitts.
It came into the formal possession of the Order of Malta in 1651. In 1687
the population reached the number of 501 inhabitants, whereas it modestly
increased to 523 inhabitants in 1776. The island was not known to be more
than a home to this small population, and as an occasional haunt for
privateers and freebooters during the course of the eighteenth century,
due to its relatively secure cove, Le Carénage, situated on its southwest
side.40
The choice was a shrewd one from the French perspective. It was
neither of much value to the French crown nor any French commercial
interests, and it was all but unknown to the Swedish officials involved in
the discussion. The suggestion finally won acceptance by the Swedish
court, despite misgivings about the nature of a trade-off between

39 Waller, ”förvärvet av St. Barthélemy,” 248–49; Cf. Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 29,
Hildebrand has argued that the benefits of a Swedish colony to the French colonies was a real
consideration behind the French propositions. This view is reproduced in recent scholarship,
for instance Leos Müller, ”Sweden’s Neutral Trade under Gustav III: The Ideal of
Commercial Independence under the Predicament of Political Isolation,” in Trade and War:
The Neutrality of Commerce in the Inter-State System, ed. Koen Stapelbroek (Helsinki: Helsinki
Collegium for Advanced Studies, 2011), 143–60.
40 Hildebrand, 38–39; Den svenska kolonin; Per Tingbrand, “Saint Barthelemy före
svenskarna,” Piteå segelsällskaps sjörulla (1980): 79–91.
65
appreciable staple rights and the ownership of a distant territory of little
or unknown value. The Swedish ambassador in Paris was granted authority
by Gustav III to work towards a final convention on the matter in May of
1784.41

The negotiations were finally concluded with a formal visit by Gustav
III in Paris. On the last leg of a year-long journey abroad, Gustav arrived
in France in early June to meet with the French court and government. His
visit included greater issues of foreign policy, nor merely the signing of the
colonial treaty. Gustav’s aggressive designs for Norway had been
temporarily embarrassed by the cool reception by Catherine in Russia. He
found himself obliged to lean on French financial and military support. At
the end of talks during the summer of 1784, France secretly pledged a
subsidy of 6 million livres outright and French maritime assistance in the
event of a war between Sweden and Denmark-Norway. Even if Gustav had
insisted on more sizeable French payments, this was the real political
success of his French diplomatic visit. Troubling questions surrounding
the traditional French-Swedish bond had been resolved, and amicable
relations restored. The cession of St. Barthélemy to Sweden, while a result
of longstanding negotiations and clear Swedish ambition, served in the
long run more as a convenient cover for the secret subsidy agreement.
Nevertheless, when Gustav returned to Stockholm, measures were quickly
undertaken to survey the newly acquired island and to take measures for
formal possession.42

The Organization of Colonial Trade
When reviewing Swedish commodity trade with the West Indies prior to
1784, it is obvious that Sweden had very little in the way of existing
networks to build a colonial trade on. The ambiguous meaning of the term

41 Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 38–39, 48–53; Essén, Johan Liljencrantz, 234–35.
42 Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 33–39, 56–57; Essén, Johan Liljencrantz, 235–41; Waller,
“förvärvet av S:t Barthélemy,” 243–55.
66
West Indies in Swedish trade statistics already sheds some light on the
issue. The Caribbean islands as well as the Americas were subsumed under
the same term, without any clear distinction between the two. There was
no sustained trade between Sweden and the West Indies before the war
years of 1776–83. Swedish imports from the West Indies chiefly consisted
of tobacco, coffee, and sugar. In 1782, imports first exceeded a noticeable
value of 11,000 rixdollars. They surged to over 100,000 rixdollars in the
following years, but dropped as quickly after the war in 1784. In turn,
Sweden mostly exported herring – but no iron – to the West Indies. The
fisheries of the Swedish west coast held a small share in the transatlantic
exports of herring to feed slaves at the plantations of the Caribbean.43
Even so, the totals of imports and exports to the West Indies paled in
comparison with the rest of Sweden’s foreign trade. At the height of the
wartime boom, imports of 100,000 rixdollars only represented about 2
percent of total foreign imports (5 million rixdollars). There were very few
Swedish merchants engaged in this business, as opposed to the iron and
timber exports to European ports. The occasional ventures of SOIC into
West Indian expeditions quickly outpaced even the most ambitious
combined efforts of individual entrepreneurs. In general, the limitations
set by the low degree of Swedish commercial representation abroad was a
constantly debated 18th century problem.44
Swedish officials at the time knew little about the new colony. First
insights were gained from printed sources and a suite of different
informants. Summary intelligence about St. Barthélemy was received in
August 1784 from the Swedish consul in L’orient, Simon Bérard. His
description was brief and to the point. The island’s soil was poor, its main
products consisted at most of cotton and salt. Potentially the island could
produce more than it did, but its main use could not be derived from
agriculture. Furthermore, the authoritative work of Raynal, the Histoire des

43 Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 315–18; Essén, Johan Liljencrantz, 175; Müller, Consuls,
Corsairs, and Commerce, 182–84.
44 Müller, Consuls, Corsairs, and Commerce, 184–85; Kurt Samuelsson, Köpmanshusen i Stockholm:
en studie i den svenska handelskapitalismens historia (Stockholm: Ekonomisk-historiska
institutionen, 1951), 45–54; Essén, Johan Liljencrantz, 79–83.
67
deux Indes, was cited in government proceedings on account of its brief
passage on the island. Its portrayal of the island was not encouraging:
On lui [St. Barthélemy] donne dix á onze lieues de tour. Ses montagnes
ne sont que des rochers & ses vallées que des sables, jamais arrosées par
des sources ou par des rivières, & beaucoup trop rarement par les eaux
du ciel. Elle est même privée des commodités d’un bon port, quoique
tous les géographes l’aient félicité de cet avantage.45
Aside from being represented as a speck of paltry Caribbean wasteland
without even a decent anchorage, the Histoire also described its population
in deploring terms. It claimed that the colony was the only one in the New
World where the white owners were forced to participate in the work of
their slaves. A tradition held that upon occasional visits of privateers and
smugglers, they would give morsels of their cargo as alms to the island’s
poor settlers, out of pity.46
A Swedish expedition to formally acquire the island was promptly
organized and sailed from Gothenburg in December of 1784. The frigate
Sprengtporten carried the colony’s first governor, Salomon Mauritz von
Rayalin, as well as a garrison of 50 soldiers, commanding officers, a priest,
and a physician. The frigate reached its destination in early March the next
year, but was preceded by the Swedish merchant ship Enigheten, which had
arrived in late January with a commercial cargo. The first impressions
among the Swedes confirmed the information about the island that had
been available until then. Sprengtporten’s ship chaplain, Sven Dahlman,
found the existing buildings in the bay of the Carénage to consist of “5 or 6
ragged cabins”, the inhabitants to be “poor and wretched”, and their

45 Guillaume Thomas François Raynal, Histoire philosophique et politique des établissements et du
commerce des Européens dans les deux Indes (Genève: Pellet, 1780), t. VII, 141; The use of the
Histoire is interesting, as it had been banned in Sweden since 1781, a response towards its
controversial content by the increasingly autocratic reign of Gustav III. See Harald Elovsson,
”Raynal och Sverige,” Samlaren 9 (1928): 18–81; Fredrik Thomasson, “Royal Propaganda and
Colonial Aspirations,” in Raynal’s ’Histoire des deux Indes’: colonialism, networks and global
exchange, ed. Cecil Courtney and Jenny Mander (Oxford: Voltaire Foundation, 2015), 201-15.
46 Raynal, Histoire des deux Indes, t. VII, 142–43.
68
plantation grounds “desolate and uncultivated”. Governor von Rayalin
reported laconically on the challenges facing the new settlers, as they were
compelled to commence extensive building, raking, and road construction
before they could survey the land of the wider interior more closely. Von
Rayalin wrote to Stockholm after some cursory observation that the land
appeared “unfit” for the plantation of either coffee or sugar.47
Despite these sobering accounts about the colony, Swedish officials
were keen on exploiting it in whatever ways possible. In an early stage of
government discussion on the colony, influential Stockholm merchants
were approached by high-ranking officials. They were asked for their
observations on colonial matters, and were requested to organize a
commercial expedition to the island. The expedition carried the first cargo
of necessaries for the first settlement. In return the Swedish government
would try to exact a license for the ship to buy its return cargo in
Martinique. A small coterie of influential Stockholm merchants were
quickly up to the task, among whom were Carl Arfwedson, Lars Rejmers,
and David Schinckel. Along with a few additional investors, they financed
and equipped the voyage of the ship Enigheten, the first Swedish ship to
reach St. Barthélemy. They all held positions in the Trade Society of
Stockholm (Stockholms grosshandelssocietet). Carl Arfwedson was one of the
wealthiest persons in the kingdom, and was the son of Abraham
Arfwedson, one of the persons behind the charter of the first West India
Company in 1746. Arfwedson was one of the key exporters of Swedish iron,
and were also successful in banking and finance, with significant
connections to international credit networks.48
At any rate, the preconditions for colonial agriculture and production
never took center stage in their discussions. Instead, the idea of
constructing a port town and conferring it with the status of free port was

47 Sven Dahlman, Beskrifning om S. Barthelemy, Swensk Ö uti Westindien (Stockholm:
Nordström, 1786), 17, 20–23; von Rayalin’s reports of 8 March 1785 and 1 June 1786, SBS 1B:1,
SNA.
48 Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 58–61; Ivar Simonsson, ”Arfwedson, Carl Christopher,” in
Svenskt biografiskt lexikon, vol. 2 (Stockholm: Bonniers, 1920), 161–64; Samuelsson,
Köpmanshusen i Stockholm, 26, 30–32, 35, 183, 190.
69
the guiding principle of the organizing efforts. The prospect of creating a
free port akin to St. Eustatius or St. Thomas was seen as the most attractive
course, as their former success was well known. The absence of other
means of exploitation indeed would make it the only possible course. In
fact, the final decision was probably anticipated in a very early stage as von
Rayalin’s instructions, issued barely two months after acquisition,
included an order to proclaim the island a free port as soon as possible after
his arrival.49
There were many early proponents of the idea. Gustav Philip Creutz,
the Swedish minister in Paris during the early negotiations, had frequently
alluded to the possibility in connection with the negotiations with France.
St. Eustatius was seen as an ideal. St. Eustatius, after all, was also a small
island with few natural resources, but had nevertheless prospered. Creutz
remarked boastfully at one stage that the French king and his ministers
supposedly shuddered at the late realization that contraband trade from
St. Barthélemy could easily find its way into French ports. Even if this
statement was primarily intended to put the king’s actions in a positive
light, it shows that the members within Swedish government showed some
optimism over the possibilities that could come with a neutral colony in
the West Indies.50
The Stockholm merchants that were consulted in the matter had also
expressed the need to establish a proper trading post on St. Barthélemy.
Attempts by government were made to this end by pleading with the Parisbased merchant Niclas von Jacobsson. Von Jacobsson was part of the
Gothenburg family network headed by Christian Arfwidsson. Christian
Arfwidsson’s company owned the largest merchant fleet in the city, and
was a large exporter of iron, timber and herring. Christian Arfwidsson was
one of few Swedish merchants with a prior established interest in the West
India trade, primarily through the herring trade. Von Jacobsson also had a

49 Gustav III’s instructions to von Rayalin, 22 September 1784, SBS 1A, SNA; Hildebrand,
Den svenska kolonin, 64–65.
50 Minutes of the Swedish Privy Council, 3 August 1784, SNA; Hildebrand, Den svenska
kolonin, 48–49.
70
varied record of colonially oriented ventures. He owned a sugar refinery in
Gothenburg, and had attempted to trade slaves during the American
Revolutionary War. As a means of encouragement, the government
offered a support of 1,000 rixdollars for the establishment of a Swedish
firm on St. Barthélemy. Von Jacobsson however declined the offer on
account of prior commitments, as well as infirmity and old age. Arfwidsson
and von Jacobsson would instead dispatch their own agents to St.
Barthélemy at a later stage, without government solicitation.51
Free ports were far from a novel concept. During the preceding century,
there was a recurring discussion about the utility of a Swedish free port in
the Baltic. In fact, the continuity of this idea can be traced at least as long
back as the 17th century, always as a possible means to lessen the
dependence upon Dutch shipping. Gustav III’s minister of trade and
finance, Johan Liljencrantz, had since long envisaged Swedish ports as
transit points for Russian commodities and naval stores. Russia, similarly
to Sweden, was a large exporter of naval stores, iron and wheat, but had no
sizeable merchant fleet. Consequently, Russia’s trade was carried in British
and Dutch keels. Liljencrantz hoped to divert the majority of Russian
goods through Sweden. He had started to develop this plan during
extensive foreign travels in 1758–61, having observed the transit trade in
the Netherlands, as well as in the free ports of Livorno and Marseille. The
reasoning presumed two Swedish free ports: one in the town of Slite on
Gotland, and one on the Swedish west coast, on the far side of the Sound
and its accompanying taxation. Despite that these ideas were shared by
many in the Swedish Diet and commercial circuits, the plan could never be
fully realized. It met with powerful political opposition which argued
against free ports as a speculative and hazardous scheme. Additionally,
Russian political support was required for an integral part of the plan to
work, which in the end proved impossible to obtain.52

51 C. Hattendorf, “Arfwidsson, Christian,” in Svenskt biografiskt lexikon, vol. 2 (Stockholm:
Bonniers, 1920), 170–74.
52 Essén, Johan Liljencrantz, 86–110; Heckscher, Sveriges ekonomiska historia, II: 665–67.
71
Only the free port on the west coast was realized in the end. Marstrand,
a small town situated to the northwest of Gothenburg in the outer
archipelago, was endowed with free port rights in 1775. Another important
aspect was the freedom of burghership, which was an old rationale
embedded in the idea of the free port. Free ports were originally created in
part to attract the settlement of wealthy foreigners to promote trade.
Religious freedom and the absence of guild associations were integral
elements for this purpose, and Marstrand included both. Swedish
naturalization of foreigners was made possible, and its only prerequisite
was that the prospective settler owned enough property or capital. The
declaration also included an exceptional paragraph, which offered asylum
for debtors and persons convicted of crimes. This was a component
adopted from the regulations of Livorno, and would have to be changed in
the future on account of its peculiar consequences.53
The trade at Marstrand expanded promisingly over the course of the
American War of Independence, and became a notorious meeting place
for French and American merchants as well as privateers. Prize vessels
caught by French and American privateers found a ready market in
Marstrand during the war. In 1782, half of Marstrand’s exports went to
North America. When peace resumed, commerce in Marstrand
nevertheless waned. The town failed to promote the transit trade it was
presumed to receive, especially as it was close to larger markets like
Copenhagen and Gothenburg. The same year, Gothenburg received
general liberty of entrepôt for foreign merchandise (nederlagsrätt), which
made it the closest thing to a free port there was on the Swedish west coast
for years to come. Gothenburg merchants also secured certain exceptions
from the Navigation Act, with a view for American ships to be able to load
appropriate return cargoes. The possibilities of American-Swedish trade

53 During its time as a free port (1775–94), Marstrand received over 500 Swedish persons
seeking protection on account of insolvency and debt. Eskil Olán, Marstrands historia:
Krigsminnen och badortsliv (Göteborg: Elander, 1939); 22–32, 105–07; Paul Masson, Ports francs
d’autrefois et d’ajourd’hui (Paris: Hachette, 1904), 160–85; Essén, Johan Liljencrantz, 111–16;
Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 99–100.
72
as seen in Marstrand had not been lost on Swedish commercial interests.54
This situation in Marstrand had naturally also caught the eye of the British
and elicited their protests. Sweden kept an accommodating posture
towards Britain while doing very little to interfere with entrepreneurs
active in the Marstrand trade. Indeed, during the war, the free port trade
became significant enough to profit the state financially, which might
explain the reluctance to control it too strictly.55
The partial success of the Marstrand free port also served to inspire the
institution of a free port on St. Barthélemy. Its problems as well as its
benefits foreshadowed much of the future issues of Gustavia. A royal
proclamation dated the 7th of September 1785, seven months after the
Sprengtporten made landfall, established St. Barthélemy’s free port status.
It is a remarkable document in its sheer brevity. Despite the precedent of
the Marstrand project, it is remarkable how little direct influence it
seemed to have on this decision. Whereas Marstrand’s privileges were
fleshed out in detailed and exhaustive paragraphs, the St. Barthélemy
proclamation of 1785 only explained that the island was open to the ships
and goods of all nations, that people of whatever description were invited
to settle there, and practice their own religion freely. Debtors were also
offered the customary protection, albeit limited to a duration of ten years.
Finally, the text did not omit to proclaim the island’s “favorable location,
healthy climate, and good harbor”.56

54 Heckscher, Sveriges ekonomiska historia, II: 666; Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 250–51.
55 The town’s inhabitants, who had themselves pleaded for the adoption of free port rights,
had grown weary of the downsides of commercial and social freedom. It was reported that
Marstrand became increasingly exploited by foreign smugglers, individual adventurers, as
well as fleeing convicts and debtors. The initiative to end its privileges came from the
inhabitants themselves, only twenty years after they were instituted. In 1794, the town’s free
port status was rescinded.See Olán, Marstrands historia, 22. A forthcoming study by Rikard
Drakenlordh will investigate the diplomatic ramifications of the free port in the relationship
between Sweden and Great Britain. See Rikard Drakenlordh, “The British-Swedish
Relations in the Era of the American Revolutionary War: A Study of Diplomatic, Military,
and Economic Relations, 1773–1783” (Unpuplished PhD-thesis, forthcoming).
56 The proclamation actually incorporated the whole island, as the city that was to become
Gustavia was only founded officially in 1787. A copy is found in C 256, FSB, ANOM.
73
Swedish officials believed they had good reasons to be brief. What
mattered in the short term was the immediate construction of a Swedish
administrative and commercial presence. The Swedish acquisition in the
West Indies had already attracted some attention. Mercantile interest in
the colony had one of its earliest instances in the personal effort of a
Bremen merchant, Henrich Wilmans. Wilmans had almost two decades
of trading experience in the West Indies, particularly in the Dutch and
Danish colonies. Wilmans offered his views and suggested possible
measures in a correspondence with the Stockholm government.
Unsurprisingly, he espoused the institution of a free port, but added that
the customs duties at St. Barthélemy would have to be lower than on St.
Thomas and St. Eustatius. This latter suggestion might seem odd coming
from Wilmans, who at the time co-owned a merchant firm in St. Thomas.
But he candidly explained that regional competition would “be attended
with great benefit to us in St. Thomas, as the Danes must do the same to
retain merchants among them.”57

The projects of opportunistic merchants such as Wilmans were a
source of welcome consultation, and many of his further suggestions on
administration and colonial jurisprudence would, in fact, be implemented.
It also gives a hint of what some merchants active in Caribbean trade
circles expected of the Swedish colony. Indeed, merchants from
neighboring colonies had already started to arrive in St. Barthélemy by
1785, purchasing land and adding to the early commercial infrastructure of
the Swedish colony. A number of Dutch locals from St. Eustatius moved
in, according to von Rayalin, because of their “malcontent with new
constraints and charges inflicted upon them by their government.”58 Even
so, the nature of the Swedish free port was still hardly clear even in its

57 Wilmans’s memorandum, 18 October 1784; SBS 1A, SNA; Wilmans to Creutz, 24 May 1785,
SBS 1A, SNA; Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 87–93; Han Jordaan and Victor Wilson, “The
Eighteenth-Century Dutch, Danish, and Swedish Free Ports in the Northeastern Caribbean:
Continuity and Change,” in Dutch Atlantic Connections, 1680–1800: Linking Empires, Bridging
Borders, ed. Gert Oostindie and Jessica V. Roitman (Leiden: Brill, 2014), 283–84.
58 von Rayalin’s report, 8 March 1785, SBS 1B:1, SNA; Jordaan and Wilson, “Free Ports,” 296–

74
contours. No detailed set of regulations had as yet been issued on such
basic matters such as naturalization and trading rights. For instance, when
rumors of an impending war started circulating in 1785, von Rayalin wrote
to ask if he could furnish foreign ships with Swedish flags, as “had been
customary in St. Thomas during the late war”. There was as yet no
instruction on how wartime neutrality could be exploited.59
Before further details could be settled, Swedish officials considered the
possibilities of the relationship with the newly independent American
republic. Despite its reservations about the political nature of the new
state, Sweden showed an early and keen interest in establishing trade
contacts. This was in part because of the prospective markets for Sweden’s
main exports, iron. But it was also part and parcel of the original rationale
behind the Baltic transit trade. Swedish politicians were eager to invite
Americans to trade in the Baltic, which they in fact already had done
during the war. This was one of the reasons why Sweden signed, as the first
unsolicited neutral state, a Treaty of Amity and Commerce with the
American republic in 1783. The treaty had been negotiated between
Benjamin Franklin and the Swedish minister Creutz in Paris.60
The treaty largely followed the French-American treaty of 1778, with
the customary most-favored-nation clause included to prevent
discrimination against the United States as compared with other states.
Additionally, it addressed the conditions of neutrality. However, as per the
instruction of Congress to Franklin, “the direct and essential object” was
simply the recognition of U.S. independence by another European power,
even if Sweden certainly expected commercial gains from the new
relationship. The treaty also included the mutual right of appointing
consuls. As early as 1783, Gustav III appointed the first Swedish consuls,
Richard Söderström for Boston, and Carl Hellstedt for Philadelphia. The
next year Adolf Schough was appointed for Charleston. Consulates for

59 von Rayalin to Ruuth, 20 May 1785, SBS 1A, SNA.
60 Treaty of Amity and Commerce, and Separate Articles, between the United States and
Sweden, 3 April 1783, Treaties and Conventions Concluded Between the United States of America
and Other Powers since July 4, 1776 (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1889), 1042–52;
Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 25–26; Odhner, Sverige politiska historia, II: 116–19.
75
New York and Baltimore would follow, in 1799 and 1810. It would take
until 1797 for the United States to post their first consul in Gothenburg.61
At the time of negotiating the treaty, Franklin was acting as a member
of a European-based commission appointed by Congress to reopen
commercial and diplomatic relations with foreign powers. Aside from
pursuing treaties, the early economic policy of the United States included
inquiries into possible foreign trading posts in the West Indies and on the
other side of the Atlantic. As a direct consequence of the acquisition of St.
Barthélemy, this commercial diplomacy also made its appearances in talks
with Sweden. In late 1784 Thomas Jefferson conversed at length in Paris
with Per Olof von Asp, the Swedish embassy secretary. Unaware of the
Swedish plans for its new colony, Jefferson briefly observed that the island
could be best exploited by granting it an unrestricted freedom of trade. He
stated his unequivocal belief that the island could be used as a useful depot
for the exchange for West Indian and American merchandise. In February
of 1785 Jefferson reported to James Monroe on the frustratingly slow
progress of commercial discussions with the greater West Indian powers.
He however remarked in this context that the West Indian trade may go
on despite the absence of legal treaties, and that “Holland, Denmark,
Sweden may be of service too.”62 Marking a apparent mutual interest, the
Swedish minister in 1786 approached Jefferson in turn, now inquiring in
what ways St. Barthélemy could “be rendered instrumental for promoting
commerce between Sweden and the United States,” an explicit

61 Vernon G. Setser, The Commercial Reciprocity Policy of the United States, 1774–1829 (PhDdiss., University of Pennsylvania, 1937), 56; Congressional instruction to Franklin, 28
September 1782, in Journals of the Continental Congress from 1774–1789, ed. W.C. Ford et al.
(Washington: Government Printing Office, 1914), XXIII, 623–24; Müller, Consuls, Corsairs,
and Commerce, 181–82; Merrill D. Peterson, “Jefferson and Commercial Policy,” 584–610; For
a list of American-based Swedish consuls, see Appendix V.
62 Transcript of a discussion between Jefferson and von Asp, Stäel von Holstein’s dispatch,
28 November 1784, A 45, Diplomatica Gallica, SNA; Jefferson to Monroe, February 1785, in
The Writings of Thomas Jefferson, ed. Paul Leicester Ford (New York: Putnam, 1894), IV: 31.
76
formulation of the Swedish ambitions to reach the American market
through its colonial outpost in the West Indies.63
Jefferson’s reply was as interesting as it was prescient. First of all, the
actual question received a glossed-over response. He simply demurred that
the United States could have use for Swedish iron, and that American
traders would be forthcoming with:
[…] flour, saltfish, & other things wanting in the other ports of America,
which by the Swedish merchants at St. Bartholomew, will be run into
those ports and exchanged for precious metals or commercial
commodities: or the American merchant taking on himself those
operations will run his flour or salt fish into those ports himself, take
cash or such commercial articles as suit Sweden, & go with these to St.
Bartholomew to pay for the iron he wants.64
With similar arguments, Jefferson devoted most of the letter making a
case for St. Barthélemy as an entrepôt for North American and Caribbean
goods. While free port status was already conferred – as Jefferson most
certainly knew – he adamantly argued for a free port institution “without a
single restriction”. Only in this way would St. Barthélemy draw to itself the
transit trade which found its way through St. Eustatius and St. Thomas.
These islands were at present, in Jefferson’s words, “only half emancipated
from the fetters of commercial prejudices.” While Dutch colonial officials
had since long allowed American trade with its West Indian colonies, the
competition between the Dutch and American carrying trade constituted
a barrier in trade relations. Officially, American ships were strictly allowed
only to ship molasses from the Dutch colonies themselves. All other
tropical commodities had to be shipped in Dutch vessels. Smuggling under

63 Jefferson to Stäel von Holstein, 12 June 1786, Writings of Thomas Jefferson, IV: 238–245;
Knute Emil Carlson, Relations of the United States with Sweden (Allentown: Haas, 1921), 73–74.
64 Jefferson to Stäel von Holstein, 12 June 1786, Writings of Thomas Jefferson, IV: 242.
77
the guise of the molasses trade was still possible, but it was still thought
preferable to pursue reliable, legal markets wherever possible.65
Jefferson was very unclear on how Swedish trade could be furthered in
the process. He only vaguely surmised that Swedish trade would have no
trouble deriving its due proceeds if the island was indeed a free port. The
only aspect he made perfectly clear was that at least some degree of illicit
commerce would be inevitable in order to do so. While Jefferson admitted
that this suggestion might appear objectionable for a number of moral or
legal reasons, he maintained that the “oppressive rescripts of Metropolitan
cupidity” made it a necessity. After all, in a colonial world officially
governed by mercantilist laws issued in the metropolis, there were few
ways for outsiders to legally conduct business. From the minutes and
records of Swedish government, it is clear that illicit trade and smuggling
were anticipated as a result of a free port. The experiences of Marstrand is
one of the most evident examples of this circumstance. Swedish officials
were not overly concerned or averse to the consequences.66
The organization of domestic commercial relations with the new
colony was another matter that received extensive treatment in the early
discussion. It did not take long to raise the question about the possibility
of a chartered company. The proposals on the matter were however far
from unanimous. The Wilmans memorandum had unsurprisingly advised
against a company, seeing as that would only constitute an unwanted
competitor on the scene. Simon Bérard posted with Swedish consular
functions in L’Orient, had suggested the creation of a company, but was
answered by an early disapproval of Liljencrantz. Liljencrantz was no
unequivocal opponent of trading companies, as he had indeed promoted
their establishment in the past. However, in the present case he thought
that a chartered company would go against the spirit of the free port
institution.67

65 McDonald, ”The Chance of the Moment,” 452–53; Jefferson to Stäel von Holstein, 12 June
1786, Writings of Thomas Jefferson, IV: 244–45.
66 Jefferson to Stäel von Holstein, 12 June 1786, Writings of Thomas Jefferson, IV: 245.
67 Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 94; Essén, Johan Liljencrantz, 243–44.
78
A very plausible motivation behind Liljencrantz’s sentiments is that he
was deterred from the recent experience of the Danish West India
Trading Company (Vestindisk Handelsselskab), which ended in a spectacular
failure. The company had been founded immediately after the outbreak of
the war in 1778 in an effort to exploit wartime neutrality, with a particular
attention to the international coffee trade.68 The company’s West India
branch was located to St. Thomas. The company broke with prior practice
in that it was the Danish government took the initiative to create it, as well
as placing considerable sums of capital at the company’s disposal until their
shares could be sold. The short history of the company can only be
described as a colossal failure. It was dissolved shortly after the conclusion
of peace in 1783. The Danish crown took over its assets and liabilities and
repurchased all its shares at prices which offset all losses to the investors.
This controversial liquidation put to light a range of failed and unrealistic
business ventures, mismanagement, incompetence, and most of all,
egregious losses for the Danish crown chest.69

Ultimately, the most forceful interest behind the idea of a Swedish
chartered company were the Stockholm merchants invested in the
Enigheten-expedition, and they would soon realize their bid. The initial
offer to von Jacobsson was quickly passed on to Jacob Eliasson Röhl and
Adolf Fredrik Hansen, second cousins hailing from a family dynasty of
crown bakers and merchants in Stockholm. Between the two, they shared
decades of extensive commercial experience in both Europe and in the
East and West Indies. Röhl had also been one of the early applicants for a
consulate in the United States after the treaty of 1783. They were closely
associated with the organizers of the Enigheten venture. They arrived at St.

68 There were two others Danish companies established around the same time. They were
the Baltic-Guinea Trading Company (Østersøisk-guinesisk Handelsselskab), established in
1781, and the Trading and Canal Company (Handels- og Kanalkompagniet), established in 1782.
The three companies were similar in many aspects, from government involvement to their
ultimate outcomes: none of them survived the transition from war to peace.
69 Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 94; Ole Feldbaek, “The Danish Trading Companies of the
Seventeenth and Eighteenth Century,” Scandinavian Economic History Review 34, no. 3 (1986),
204–218; P.P. Sveistrup, “Det Kongelige octroyerde Vestindiske Handelsselskab 1778–85. En
driftsøkonomisk undersøgelse,” Historisk tidsskrift 10, no. 6 (1942), 385–427.
79
Barthélemy with the same expedition, and bought portions of waterfront
land in Le Carénage on behalf of the expedition’s patrons, anticipating
future investments. Their primary task was however to establish a Swedish
merchant firm on St. Barthélemy. Röhl also drafted a comprehensive
memorial about the commercial prospects of the island. Like so many
others before him, he was not very impressed by the Crown’s new
possession. But he conceded the fact that the island was situated favorably
in the middle of very important colonial markets, and possessed a good
enough harbor.70
Exploitation of this trading post, however, could only be achieved
through smuggling. The limited free trade concessions of nearby French
colonial ports only catered to American, not Swedish, products. Röhl
however thought it would be possible to obtain secret access to trade in
colonies such as Guadeloupe and Martinique. Dutch contacts had
informed Röhl of the close relations between the French colonies and
merchant firms from the Dutch and British colonies. The access to French
markets was always obtainable through bribery Röhl’s rather detailed
proposals for illicit trade included the development of island agriculture
and small industrial facilities, especially rum distilleries. These would
however not serve mainly for profit, but rather as convenient cover for
Swedish ships who could then pass off their cargoes as domestic
production with some degree of credibility.71
More to the point, Röhl concluded that a chartered Swedish company
was the only means for domestic interests to gain a share in this trade. He
argued that this was the only way to promote the Swedish carrying trade
and the dissemination of Swedish goods. In other cases, the colony would
simply amount to nothing more than a convenient mart for Americans and

70 Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 69–70; Goës, ”Minnen från S:t Barthélemy,” YMER
(1882): 155–57; Tingbrand, Who was who, 283–84, 501; For the memorandum, see Jacob
Eliasson Röhl, “Wördsamt Memorial”, 14 January 1786, Vitterhetsakademiens
handskriftssamling, F 16, ATA; This document has not been used by Hildebrand or in later
research until very recently in Holger Weiss, ”Det svenska kolonialprojektets komplexa rum:
om slaveri under svensk flagg i slutet av 1700–talets karibiska och atlantiska värld,”
Sjuttonhundratal: Nordic Yearbook for Eighteenth Century Studies (2012), 71–72.
71 Röhl, “Wördsamt Memorial”.
80
their inter-island smuggling business. Von Rayalin had incidentally
envisioned basically the same scenario, reporting that the Americans
“counted on” the island in the future.72
Individual efforts of Swedish merchants would most likely fail
according to Röhl, as they would be frustrated by competition and lack of
adequate resources. Only a chartered company, in which individual
merchants could participate through the purchase of shares, would ensure
the continuity and stability of Swedish trade to the West Indies. A
company was also more likely to be able to defray the costs and risks
associated with ventures such as African-bound slaving expeditions, an
important pre-condition for colonial development according to Röhl.73
Röhl emphasized the connection between a prospective company and
the investors in the first commercial expedition. The memorial swells with
praise over their “patriotic zeal, unanimity, courage, and enterprise.”
When the final issues of colonial administration were being decided in
September of 1786, a group of Stockholm merchants headed by Carl
Arfwedson presented their observations to an appointed colonial
committee. Their observations repeated many of the pro-company
arguments in the Röhl memorandum almost verbatim.74
The committee was inclined to agree that the creation of a chartered
company was the most prudent option. Neither did Liljencrantz voice his
earlier objections against such a decision. His reversal cannot, however,
only be ascribed to the influence of the merchant bourgeoisie of
Stockholm. He was most likely moved towards acceptance on account of
the high costs and risks involved in the colonization of a remote territory.
A commercial organization financed in large part by the country’s
mercantile elite was finally seen as the best alternative to offset future
liabilities. A great deal of these considerations became embodied in the
charter of the Swedish West India Company (SWIC) as well as the first

72 Röhl, “Wördsamt Memorial”; von Rayalin’s report, 16 December 1785, SBS 1 A, SNA.
73 Röhl, “Wördsamt Memorial”.
74 Röhl, “Wördsamt Memorial”; Cf. Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 93–94.
81
comprehensive set of administrative regulations for St. Barthélemy, both
issued on the 31st of October 1786.75
SWIC was awarded the rights to trade with St. Barthélemy, the West
Indies, North America, and the West African coast for an initial period of
fifteen years. It was a joint stock company with a limited charter, meaning
that other Swedes or foreigners were not barred from the commercial
intercourse with St. Barthélemy. Nevertheless, SWIC enjoyed extensive
reductions in domestic taxes and tariffs, which gave it a privileged position
vis-à-vis other Swedish actors. It also enjoyed the right to establish
factories and warehouses in foreign West Indian colonies, and had
jurisdiction over its own personnel. Finally, it would receive three quarters
of the total incomes from St. Barthélemy customs, the collection of which
it would organize with its own means. The company leadership itself
answered to the Swedish Board of Commerce in matters concerning the
West Indian trade at large.76
In return for these various privileges, SWIC was burdened with the
maintenance of the colony’s public works and infrastructure. This entailed
the dredging and keeping of the harbor, the construction of a wharf,
development of the island salines, and the payment of salaries to a
significant part of the Swedish colonial officials. This trade-off was an
expression of the government’s cost-adverse minimalist approach to
colonial governance, which had developed during the first two years after
the acquisition.77

The regulations for St. Barthélemy were a mix of the cumulated projects
and propositions considered up until that time. Thus the island’s (limited)
defense and official representative duties would be combined in the
powers of the Governor. The main executive and legal body, the council

75 Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 94–95; Essén, Johan Liljencrantz, 243–45; Kongl. Maj:ts
Nådiga Privilegium, Til Uprättande af et Swenskt WestIndiskt Handels-Compagnie, Gifwit
Upsala Slott Then 31 October 1786 (Stockholm: Kongl. Tryckeriet, 1786); Kongl. Maj:ts
Nådiga Reglemente, Angående Styrelsen å Ön St. Barthelemy i West-Indien, Gifwit Upsala
Slott then 31 October 1786 (Stockholm: Kongl. tryckeriet, 1786).
76 Kongl. Maj:ts Nådiga Privilegium, §1, §8–9, §12, §14–15, §17.
77 Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 95–98; Kongl. Maj:ts Nådiga Privilegium, §12.
82
(konselj), was modeled on the government of St. Eustatius as Wilmans had
suggested. This model supported the inclusion of local inhabitants into the
council, four of its “permanent residents,” elected among themselves. The
remaining four council members consisted of the Governor, acting as
chairman except in judicial cases, when the judge (justitiarie) would preside.
The remaining two seats would be filled by representatives of SWIC.
Coincidentally, the judge was to be salaried by SWIC, not the crown. The
judge was also vested with the powers of notary public. One can see here
the considerable leverage offered to the company in colonial
administration, which would make its own peculiar imprint on the future
history of the colony.78
The SWIC was modelled very closely on the Swedish East India
Company, albeit with a few significant differences. One was the heavy
involvement of government, both in its initial stages, and as owner. The
king was formally entitled to appoint the directors of SWIC. Gustav III
was content with appointing only one director, Eric Ruuth, who had
succeeded Liljencrantz as minister of finance in 1786. The four other
directors were chosen among the initial shareholders, and included the
financiers of the Enigheten as well as Niclas Pauli, another noted Stockholm
merchant. Ruuth would long remain as the chairman of the board of
directors, holding the largest single share in the company, 8,000 rixdollars,
on behalf of the king.79
Another characteristic was the absence of foreign capital in SWIC. The
company was in fact Swedish-owned, and included the capital of a
significant portion of the mercantile bourgeoisie of Stockholm and
Gothenburg, as well as a few notable noblemen and government officials.
The Swedish colonial project had thus, it seemed, gained momentum in

78 Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 110–21; Wilman’s memorandum, 18 October 1784; SBS 1A,
SNA; Kongl. Maj:ts Nådiga Reglemente, §1–2
79 Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 117–21; Essén, Johan Liljencrantz, 246–50; Müller, Consuls,
Corsairs, and Commerce, 178–79; Ulla Johansson, ”Anders Reimers,” in Svenskt biografiskt lexikon
29 (Stockholm: Bonniers, 1997), 765; Ulla Johansson, ”Pauli,” in Svenskt biografiskt lexikon 28
(Stockholm: Bonniers, 1994), 752–53; Leif Gidlöf, ”Eric Ruuth,” in Svenskt biografiskt lexikon
30 (Stockholm: Bonniers, 2000), 782–89.
83
joining the forces of government and the mercantile elite. The combined
institutions of free-flowing commerce and chartered trade would however
prove problematic.
The Growth of a Transient Maritime Society
During the first few years under Swedish governance of St. Barthélemy,
Gustavia was built up from ground, and in the beginning resembled little
less than a temporary campsite around the cove of Le Carénage, virtually
uninhabited prior to the arrival of Swedish expeditions. At the time of
acquisition, there lived on the island 458 white settlers, 281 slaves, and 10
free blacks. To this number was soon added a small troop of Swedish
officials and functionaries as well as a small contingent of Swedish troops.
As this was hardly enough to get construction going, the first Governor
von Rayalin expropriated daily slave labor from the slave-owners on the
island in order to build the earliest roads, fortifications and buildings.
Gustavia soon emerged as a string of seafront buildings, the principal ones
being the property of the Swedish crown and SWIC. While foreign
settlers were anticipated, it would take some time until actual settlement
from neighboring colonies would begin in earnest. The colony began
attracting interest soon enough, when news of its free port privileges were
dispersed in print in neighboring colonies. By 1786 a motley group of 18
settlers had moved in from St. Martin, St. Kitts, and St. Eustatius.80
From the very beginning the Swedish colony relied, very much as its
Danish counterparts, on colonization by invitation. Migrants and settlers
from nearby Caribbean would become the backbone of the growing urban
population of Gustavia. The strategy to invite foreign settlers to its colony
was deliberate rather than borne out of necessity over a long period of
time, as it had been in the case of the Danish West Indies. The Swedish
government even saw itself prompted to prohibit the “imprudent” desire

80 Chevalier de Durat’s undated document, Observations sur L’Isle de St. Barthélemy, SBS 1 A;
Dahlman, Beskrifning om S. Barthelemy, 17, 21–23.
84
of a popular peasant movement in Finland to emigrate to what it saw as a
promised land in the New World.81
The settler society of St. Barthélemy was to have very diverse origins.
Bengt Anders Euphrasén, a student accompanying a Gothenburg
merchant ship to the colony in 1788, commented on the growth of the
colony and its heterogeneous makeup of “Swedes, Englishmen,
Frenchmen, Danes, Jews and Americans” in the town. There were also
groups of German, Italian and Dutch-speaking residents. By the time of
Euphrasén’s description, the city housed 1,131 inhabitants, of which nearly
half were enslaved. Gustavia had grown larger than the original settlements
of French Catholic planters dispersed around the island. There began to
be a pronounced distinction between Gustavia and the settled hinterlands.
Very few settlers bought land explicitly for plantation ventures, except for
a “few Englishmen”, who had bought plantations on which they resided a
few months of the year. The distinction of town and countryside persisted
throughout Swedish possession of the island and into modern times, as
evidenced by the remarkable cultural continuity and isolation of the
French families living on the island to this day. The rural population were
relatively secure in their religious and property rights afforded to them in
the provisions of the French cession.82
Still, the society witnessed by Swedish observers at the close of the
eighteenth century was only the beginning of the burgeoning free port that
Gustavia was growing into. The town can be described as a heterogeneous,
polyglot society whose population was characterized by a high degree of
mobility. Settlers were seldom sedentary urban dwellers, but rather
undertook constant voyages throughout the West Indies, and had families

81 Birger Wedberg, ”S. Barthélemyfebern,” 51–62; Pekka Masonen, ”Kustavilainen
siirtomaapolitiikka ja Saint-Barthélemyn kuume,” Historiallinen aikakauskirja, no. 3 (2007),
330–345.
82 Bengt A. Euphrasén, Beskrifning öfver svenska vestindiska ön St. Barthelemi i Westindien,
samt öarne St. Eustache och St. Christopher (Stockholm: Zetterberg, 1795), 20–21; Julianne
Maher, The Survival of People and Languages: Schooners, Goats and Cassava in St.
Barthélemy, French West Indies (Leiden: Brill, 2013); Julianne Maher, “Fishermen, farmers,
traders: Language and economic history on St. Barthélemy, French West Indies,” Language
in Society 25, no. 3 (1996): 373–406.
85
and property in other colonies. Populated by mostly Protestant settlers,
enterprising actors in Gustavia of different vernaculars favored and
conformed to business dealings in English. Other indications point
towards the nature of Gustavia as a highly anglicized community. Official
communications and statutes were printed in English and French. The
island newspaper, The Report of Saint Bartholomew (1804–19) ran most of its
content and editorial matter in English.83

The source of the island’s growing population was not as much a result
of the appeal of economic privileges and exemptions as much as to
destabilizing crises in the region. The ruptures of the French Revolution
in neighboring colonies were the first of these movements. The merchant
Daniel Öström commented in a letter to SWIC director Rejmers that
“articles of provisions etc. are exceedingly expensive on account of the
arrival of about 1 500 Frenchmen, which have also made household rents
as well as food very dear.” There were undoubtedly a large contingent of
French refugees, but these are not so easily noted in the censuses of the
colony during the early revolutionary years.84

Table 2.1. shows a modest population growth in the early revolutionary
years. Between 1789 and 1790 the town population even dropped
significantly. The simple explanation is that the majority of the French
refugees did not choose to settle in the island, and instead migrated to
other locales in the Caribbean as well as North America. The first
significant growth in the urban population occurred between 1793 and
1796, when the town received nearly 800 new inhabitants, of which almost
500 were slaves. While it can be discounted that this was partly an effect
of the slave trade, it suggests that new colonists with households and
capital, i.e. slaves, were settling down in a growing pace. Drawings and
maps of Gustavia from the period 1792–99 (Figure 2.1) supports this

83 Roderick Cave, Printing and the Book Trade in the West Indies (London: The Pindar Press,
1987); Roderick Cave, “Early Printing and the Book Trade in the West Indies,” The Library
Quarterly 48, no. 2 (1978): 163–92.
84 Quote from Öström to Rejmers, 10 January 1795, SNA.
86 Table 2.1 Population structure of St. Barthélemy, 1765–1897
Island
total
371
579
754
739
1,420
1,580
1,663
1,556
1,622
1,468
1,984
2,212
2,893

*6,000

Rural St B
total
371
579
754
739
934
1,007
1,007
1,034
988
920
997
1,068

1,141

Gustavia

total —

486
573
656
522
634
548
987
1,144

1,752

3,061
Rural St B
White
258
328
419
458
519
535
543
565
523
455
509
547

585

Free Black —

10

8 –

28

Slaves
113
251
334
282
415
464
464
469
465
465
488
521

528

Gustavia

White —

244
301
377
292
352
290
505
590

682

835

Free Black —

80 –

388

802

Slaves —

242
192
279
230
282
258
482
554

981

1,424
Year
1765
1767
1775
1784
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
1793
1794
1796
1800
1806
87
5,492
4,587
4,015 – 2.965
2,550
2,635
2,826
2,898
2,374
Source: Census records for St. Barthélemy 1787, 1788 & 1796, SBS 28, SNA; Aggregate figures for censuses 1787–94, FSB, Serie PO,
vol. 292, ANOM; The same aggregates are found in an appendix to Governor Bagge’s report, 15 August 1795, SBS 1 B:2; 1806
figures in a memorandum of Bergstedt and Fahlberg, 24 December 1806, SBS 1C, SNA; 1812 figures from Governor Stackelberg’s
report, 5 October 1812, SBS 2, SNA; B.A. Euphrasén, Beskrifning öfver svenska vestindiska ön St. Barthelemi i Westindien, samt öarne St.
Eustache och St. Christopher (A. Zetterberg, Stockholm, 1795), 20–21; Yolande Lavoie, Carolyn Fick and Francine-M. Mayer, “A
Particular Study of Slavery in the Caribbean Island of Saint Barthélemy: 1648–1846”, Caribbean Studies 28, No. 2 (1995), 384;
Yolande Lavoie, “Histoire sociale et démographique d’une communauté isolée: Saint Barthélemy (Antilles françaises), Revue
d’histoire de l’Amérique française, vol. 42, no. 3 (1989), 414; Fredrik Edvard Fåhraeus, “Statistiska upplysningar rörande svenska
kolonin S:t Barthélemy,” Statistisk tidskrift 2 (1865): 256–57; Hannes Hyrenius, “Royal Swedish Slaves,” Reports of the Demographic
Research Institute 15 (1977): 13, 22–23.
Note: Where yearly census data on the free black population is missing, it only means that the data is included in the figures of
either whites or slaves. There was never an established convention of covering this population category.
1,611
1,677
1,704 – 1,553
1,480
1,499
1,683
1,990
1,581
3,881
2,910
2,311
1,786
1,412
1,070
1,136
1,143
908
793
933- 1,613 – 1,200
1,041
1,018
1,225 — 90—-73 147 458– 588-91- 353 366 334— 1,038 – 1,444 552 1,074 830 290 304– 1,025 — 706– 641 839– 1,818 – 867 528 338 240 200— 1812 1819 1828 1835 1838 1840 1846 1854 1866 1875
88
Figure 2.1 Urban development of Gustavia, 1792–1799
St. Barthélemy experienced a surge of settlers to the colony towards the end of the 18th century. One of the results was that
urban construction and residence in Gustavia gained momentum. These maps give an impression of this development. They are
dated, from left to right, at 1792, 1796 and 1799. Swedish Military Archives (Krigsarkivet).
89
argument, as it is evident that considerable construction was underway in
the town, and that lots of land were being bought and occupied at an
unprecedented speed. Whereas population figures around the turn of the
century are sparser, it was reported that the total population exceeded
6,000 inhabitants. In 1806, when more reliable figures are again available,
the total population of Gustavia stood at 3,061 inhabitants. Despite the
lack of precise data for the rest of the colony, it is evident that the town
superseded the countryside during this period. Relative to the size of the
island, Gustavia became a bustling urban center. Considering its number
of inhabitants even during its most active period, it was a middling
settlement in comparison with commercial centers such as Havana, which
had over 40,000 inhabitants in 1791. Larger port towns in North America
and on the Spanish Main exceeded 20,000 inhabitants during the same
time, and Gustavia was also smaller than its most comparable urban
equivalents, the free ports. Willemstad on Curaçao had over 11,000
inhabitants in 1789, Charlotte Amalie had 2,085 in the same year, and the
total population of St. Eustatius in 1790 was 7,830.
85
The island council gave a detailed report in 1801 of the growing
contours of the shoreside city. Gustavia had then become the home of
about 40 wholesale merchants with real estate property. Among the
wealthiest merchants who had settled to St. Barthélemy were a number of
former prominent St. Eustatius merchants who had relocated from the
Dutch colony after 1795. One example was the house of Vaucrosson & Son.
The father and head of the family firm, Anthony Wachter Vaucrosson, had
been one of the two merchants which had dominated the sugar exports on
St. Eustatius, the other was the Bermudian-born Richard Downing
Jennings, who instead had relocated to St. Thomas. The elder Vaucrosson,
who had been active in the remonstrations against the planned redirection
in Statian economic policy, took out Swedish burgher rights as early as July
1786, in search for, as he put, a more tranquil environment after the Dutch

85 Population figures of various port towns in Wim Klooster, “Curaçao as a Transit Center
to the Spanish Main and the French West Indies,” in Dutch Atlantic Connections, 1680–1800:
Linking Empires, Bridging Borders, ed. Gert Oostindie and Jessica V. Roitman (Leiden: Brill,
2014), 44–45; Enthoven, “That Abominable Nest of Pirates,” 247.
90
were caught up in the international conflicts of the time. It would take
until 1793 for the whole family along with their property, to make a
complete resettlement in Gustavia from Oranjestad. In the Lower Town
the family left a renowned family and business residence, with rooms that
“were richly upholstered and from the upper gallery a bridge spanned the
street to a garden laid out on the roof of a warehouse”86
.
Even though there are no details that suggest that the Vaucrossons built
equally conspicuous buildings in Gustavia, their dwellings would have had
to hold a sizeable household, consisting in 1796 of 23 people, of which 5
white men, 1 white woman and 17 slaves. The elder Vaucrosson, who died
an old man in St. Barthélemy in 1813, was survived by his eldest sons,
Jacques Antoine and Jean Jacques Vaucrosson, who carried on the business
of their family well into the 1830s.87
Another wealthy Statian merchant that settled in St. Barthélemy during
the 1790s was John Joseph Cremony, who had been born in Gaeta in the
kingdom of Naples. Cremony and his business house seem to have been
established in Gustavia by 1796 at the latest. He was a merchant with a
wide network and no clear field of specialization. He held shares of
plantations in Guadeloupe and in the French part of St. Martin during his
lifetime. His business activities necessitated the use of a small staff of
clerks in Gustavia, as well as an agent stationed in St. Eustatius. He himself

86 On Richard Downing Jennings, see Jarvis, In the Eye of All Trade, 354, 406–07; and “List of
the most prominent merchants of St. Thomas,” C 260, FSB, ANOM; Jordaan and Wilson,
“Free Ports,” 285, 296, 303; Quote from Johan Hartog, History of St. Eustatius (Aruba, De Wit
Stories, 1976), 43–44.
87 Per Tingbrand, Who Was Who in St. Bartholomew during the Swedish Epoch?
(Stockholm: Swedish St. Barthélemy Society, 2001), 566–569; Handlingar Uti Det Hos Kongl
Majt anhängiga Mål, angående den af handelshuset på Öen St. Barthélemy, Vaucrosson & Son, i
underdånighet förde klagan öfwer wåldsam medfart af Gouverneuren och Conseillen på nämnde Ö,
m.m. (Stockholm, A.J. Nordström, 1799), 19, Sten Simonssons samling, vol. 7, SNA.
91
acted from time to time in the capacity of agent for commercial actors
elsewhere, for example Liverpool-based slave traders Robert Todd & Co.88
Later settlements signaled the arrival of significant merchant wealth
that would have a longer intertwined history with the island. The German
business house of Elbers and Krafft was a representative of this kind of
movement. Johann Bernard Elbers and Johann Philip Krafft were natives
of Mülheim an der Ruhr in North-Rhine Westphalia, who had arrived to
the Swedish colony a few years into the new century, as testified by their
maritime activities in 1804. Their business was quickly established as one
of the most prominent in the island. They built their imposing mansion,
Mühlheim, not in the streets of Gustavia, but reclusively to the north shore
in a little bay west of Saint Jean. It was of a peculiar octagonal design, built
out of marble to bear witness of the success of their business as well as to
the status of the merchant elites in the region.89
Settling merchants with these kinds of financial and social resources
invariably became influential members of island society. The Vaucrossons,
Cremony, Elbers, Krafft and several others from time to time became
members of the council, aldermen, delegates and representatives of
commercial committees. As such, they became the principal actors with
which the Swedish council had a mutually dependent relationship. This
relationship was often double-edged. On the one hand, their wealth

88 Probate inventory of John Joseph Cremony, 18 October 1820, S 310, FSB, ANOM;
Tingbrand, Who Was Who, 152–153; For Cremony’s slave trading activities, see chapter 3; For
some details regarding the Cremony family and their plantations on St. Martin, see John
Hackett, Narrative of the expedition which sailed from England in 1817, to join the South American
Patriots (London: John Murray, 1818), 35–41. John Joseph Cremony’s tombstone is situated on
Loterie Farm (Formerly Lottery Estate) on French St. Martin, where he settled in his later
years.
89 Tingbrand, Who Was Who, 198–99, 325; Erik O.E. Högström, “S:t Barthélemy under
svenskt välde” (Unpublished PhD-thesis, Uppsala University, 1888), 35, 40, 47, 52, 57–58; For
the description of the Elbers & Krafft estate, see Goës, “Minnen,” 163–64. The description
by Goës is based on his own visit to the ruins of the estate in the 1880s. Governor Stackelberg
inhabited the estate after 1815; On a general note, see also Klaus Weber, Deutsche Kaufleute im
Atlantikhandel, 1680–1830. (München: Beck, 2004), 37–86; Klaus Weber, “From Westphalia
to the Caribbean: Networks of German Textile Merchants in the Eighteenth Century,” in
Cosmopolitan Networks in Commerce and Society 1660-1914, ed. Margrit Schulte Beerbühl
(London: London German Historical Institute, 2004), 53–98.
92
financed important infrastructure and communal projects, their
commercial activities drew revenues to Swedish state coffers, and their
advice and expertise was needed in the unceasing flow of administrative
matters. On the other hand, the council’s relationship with them had to be
constantly negotiated and re-negotiated. Their interests and personal
dealings often came head to head with the governance and jurisprudence
of the Swedish colonial administration. They often used their relative
power as council members as they saw fit, either hindering or furthering
the work of the administrative body. Some of them seriously challenged
the Swedish administration in matters of politics and jurisprudence. Elbers
and Cremony were among the ringleaders responsible for the mutiny of
1810 which ousted the judge and government secretary from the island.
The mutiny is further described in the following chapter.90
Masters and Mariners
Another picture of the colony’s cosmopolitan make-up is provided by
surviving muster-rolls from 1814–15. The muster rolls holds records of
individual mariners’ age, task, pay, race, as well as birthplace or place of
residence. Most masters and seamen were white creoles and hailed from
nearby Caribbean colonies. An overwhelming majority came from Dutch
colonies or from colonies with a strong Dutch cultural dominance.
Curaçao, St. Eustatius and St. Martin was the birthplace of many, while
Saba was the greatest source of maritime professionals engaged in the
shipping of St. Barthélemy. Names like Barnes, Beakes, Beal, Dinzey,
Hassell, Heyliger, and Simmons were commonplace Saban family names
active in the transit trade in small vessels, names which particularly survive
on St. Barthélemy to this day. There was also a significant contingent of
French regulars that came primarily from Guadeloupe and Martinique, but
also Saint-Domingue, Les Saintes, and Marie Galante. From the other

90 Petition of St. Barthélemy merchants, 14 November 1810, Ankarheim’s report, 14 June &
7 September 1811, SBS 1C, SNA; Tingbrand, Who was who, 63, 198–99.
93
colonies, St. Thomas, St. Croix and Puerto Rico were among the most
notable sources of maritime personnel, but comparably few came from
British colonies. Only Anguilla, Bermuda and St. Kitts had any real
representation among mariners.91
It is telling to note that among the European mariners (612), a majority
were in fact Swedes either from Sweden proper or from the recently ceded
Finnish territories (288). There were many reasons for this relatively high
concentration of Swedish mariners. First of all, there was a demand for
Swedish masters and skippers onboard neutral Swedish vessels registered
in St. Barthélemy, as it enhanced the appearance of legitimate trade in the
eyes of foreign privateers and cruisers. On another note, there were
comparably many Swedish sailors that absconded to southern waters,
attracted by high wages, especially onboard American-owned ships as well
as the prospect of evading domestic conscription in the wake of RussoSwedish conflicts.92
The remainder of the Europeans mainly had origins in Italian (68),
French, (65) or Spanish (28) port towns, as well as a plethora of maritime
centers in the Mediterranean. There were many records of mariners from
Galicia, Genova, Leghorn, Lissabon, Malta, Marseille, Nantes, Naples,
Oporto, Sardinia, Sicily, Ragusa, Trieste, and Venice. Comparably few
came from the regions of the Baltic and North Sea, with only a few
mentions of Altona, Amsterdam, Copenhagen and Hamburg. Most of
them were German natives of Stralsund (25), and were recorded as Swedish
subjects. A nationality almost as heavily represented among the mariners
were the Americans (206). Most of them were simply recorded “America”
as their birthplace but there unsurprisingly high numbers of people from
New York and Philadelphia and their respective hinterlands. There were

91 Wilson dataset on St. Barthélemy mariners (2015), extracted from 1814–15 muster rolls, in
AM 265, FSB, ANOM. The dataset includes a total of 275 registered vessels and a total of
1,980 mariners. The total figures do not represent altogether unique vessels and persons, as
there are numerous double entries due to the fact that vessels were registered more than once
during these years.
92 Müller, Consuls, Corsairs, and Commerce, 188; The Swedish mariner problem is mentioned in
several of consul Söderström’s letters to the Board of Trade between 1786–90, vol. 1,
Diplomatica Americana, SNA.
94
a few mariners from diffuse South American origins (29), such as “Brazil”,
“Oronoco”, or simply, the “Spanish Main.”
As vessel owners likely hired whomever was available, there was little
regard paid to the national or ethnic compositions of crews. Especially the
larger ship crews could be a real mix of worlds, like the ship Norrköping of
235 tons and a crew of 14, owned by the aforementioned J.J. Cremony and
registered in July 1814. The master was from Rhode Island, the skipper
from Campeche, the boatswain from Wolgast, while the seamen hailed
from Portugal, Uddevalla (Sweden), Curaçao, the Azores, Marguerite,
Gothenburg, Jamaica, and Philadelphia. Only rarely did the ship-owners
bother to assemble more homogenous crews. A shipowner who did this
fairly constantly was the English-born William Cock, one of the richest
and most respectable merchants of St. Barthélemy, who also sat several
terms in the island council. He registered his hermaphrodite brig Eliza
twice in 1815. One of her voyages carried a crew of 14, consisting of 5
Swedes and the rest of Americans from the continental United States. The
other voyage carried 15 crew members, of which 12 were from Sweden and
Finland while the remainder were French or American. Regional affinities
or family networks also seemed to have an effect on crew composition.
Saban ship-owners were comparably often also the master onboard their
relatively small vessels, carrying with them a limited crew of Sabans and
their own slaves.93
Members of the black population, both free and slaves, were a
significant portion of the composition of crews, 354 out of 1,980, or nearly
18 percent according to the muster-rolls of 1814–15. Larger ships regularly
carried a few slaves as cooks or “boys”, while the smaller, particularly the
ones owned by Sabans or natives from other neighboring colonies could
consist of a majority of slaves. For instance, the schooner Intrepid, owned
by Pierre Arnaud, was captained by the Saban James Vaughan, the only
white man onboard, the remaining six seamen were all slaves. The

93 “Mr Guilleaume Cock, le plus riche et respectable de nos négociants et un des membres du
Conseil d’Administration et de finance; possedoit un Brick, appellé Eliza, qui’il envoya avec
un cargaison de valeur au Brasil […]” Norderling’s report, 3 September 1817, SBS 5A, SNA.
95
schooner Lisa of tons, was manned by two whites from St. Martin and St.
Lucia, the rest were slaves; Mingo, Tom, Jack, Will, John, and two named
Peter. They were all the property of the shipowner Auguste Rabainne.
Usually the slaves who were part of the crew belonged to the ship-owner,
but there are numerous records of slaves who were rented out by third
parties for individual expeditions. There were a few free black shipowners, of which William Panilio was the most prominent in 1814–15.
During that time he had registered Basseterre of 35 tons, with a crew of two
whites and seven slaves, and Penelope of 20 tons, with an all-free, creole
crew. The slaves all belonged to Panilio, and he was indeed one of the
largest slave-owners among the merchants directly involved in shipping.
He also had the distinction of having the only recorded free black person
as master of a vessel, the “Negro” Dominic Mathias Rafael, a 30-year old
Curaçaoan who helmed the Penelope.
Urban Life and Commerce
The commercial society of Gustavia included its cohorts of retail
traders, hawkers, hucksters, shopkeepers and insurance brokers. In 1800,
the city had 37 on record. An example was Joseph Hart, a North American
who had settled in St. Barthélemy around the beginning of the 19th century.
He rented a house on East Strand-Street where he retailed American goods
such as “Beef, Pork, Hams, Cheese, Corn, Codfish, Lard, Soap, Candles,
Tar & Potatoes.” Gustavia was also home to a range of artisans and
professionals catering to different needs, including 6 tailors, 8 masons, 18
carpenters of different descriptions, 6 bakers, 4 butchers, 2 hatters
(including 1 modiste), 6 surgeons, 3 shoemakers and cobblers, a blacksmith
and a watchmaker. In this commercial variety there is still the clear
imprint of maritime enterprise and its needs. A special indication of this is
the abundancy of taverns, inns, grog-shops and billiard houses. There were
8 buildings recorded as lodging-houses, and 22 establishments with license
to serve liquors and “keep billiards”. Different forms of gambling,
cockfights and card games were popular preoccupations in the town, but
96
none were apparently as popular as billiards. It was a typical mid-day
amusement, when the air was too hot for most to work or conduct their
business. During games people drank wine, rum, punch, grog, lemonade or
water, and the losers would traditionally foot the bill of the last few rounds.
Rum- and grog-shops were often a source of nocturnal unrest and
consternation, despite the officially strict curfews and regulations
pertaining to them. Drunken brawls and disputes among mariners and
soldiers of the garrison were not uncommon. Dances were permitted on
weekends for “Negroes in the Town” until eight o’clock in the evening,
providing that they should not “exceed a Number, from which dangerous
Consequences may be suspected.”94
As in any other Caribbean colony, the economy was based on slave
labor, despite the fact that there was no intensive, large-scale agricultural
plantations as in the large sugar islands. Sweden had no experience of
managing the complex legal framework of slavery, as it had abolished
serfdom in the 14th century. Slavery was regulated by a Swedish ordonnance
de police, containing 34 articles. It was a slightly abridged version of the
French Code noir, and was introduced on the island in 1787 as a
confirmation of the previous situation during French rule. It has been
argued that because St. Barthélemy did not possess large plantations, it did
not feature the darker, bloodier forms of slave exploitation that went with
it. But the fact is that wherever slavery was a cornerstone of society,
violence was key and duly administered in the face of possible slave
rebellions and insurrections. In fact, St. Barthélemy had a fair share of
racial tension and public incidents, primarily present in the strenuous
relation between whites and the free black population. As in other colonial

94 Joseph Hart’s advertisement in The Report of St. Bartholomew, April 30, 1804; Högström,
“S. Barthélemy”, 15–16; Euphrasén, Beskrifning, 55; Regarding slave dances, see article 31 of the
Ordinance of Police relative to the Treatment of Black and Colored Persons, 30 June 1787, SBS 1 A,
also printed in The Report of Saint Bartholomew, 5 April & 7 May 1804.
97
societies, a consistent policy towards the free blacks was difficult to
uphold, given their legal status between slaves and whites.95
At least a few of the taverns in the city doubled as brothels. This is clear
owing to the fairly frequent references to prostitution and filles de joie in
court cases as well as governor’s reports. As in other urban societies in the
Caribbean, prostitution exclusively befell Afro-Caribbean women.
Methodist preachers visiting the city in the 1820s observed as much of the
“wicked” and “depraved” youths living in the city, whose poverty-stricken
parents saw no other financial outcome than to have their “black daughters
[…] live with white men”.96
This is not to suggest that prostitution was the only resort for the
impecunious and racially segregated female population of Gustavia. AfroCaribbean women, both free and slaves, were in the majority among
females in the city. In the Gustavia census of 1796, there were 996 women
out of a recorded total population of 1,752. A free black female majority
was a common characteristic of regional urban demographics, which is
usually explained by the relatively high occupation of domestics and
servants employed in households, which however does not hold true for
Gustavia. In Gustavia there was a sexual balance among the slaves as the
town’s trade, warehousing, construction, and portuary activities
necessitated a variety of skilled and unskilled labor. Free women of color
precluded the reliance upon domestic slaves as they provided basic service
as laundresses and seamstresses. In a 1787 census, the proportion of
households headed by women are high among the free blacks of Gustavia,

95 Fredrik Thomasson, “’Contre la Loi mais en considérant les Circonstances dangereuses du
moment’. The Swedish court of law at Saint Barthélemy during the revolutionary period.”
(Paper presented at the Annual Meeting of the Association of Caribbean Historians,
Curaçao, May 2012), 7–8; Rosenstein’s report, 6 July 1787, SBS 1B:1, SNA; For a typical
representation of slavery on St. Barthélemy, see Per Tingbrand, “A Swedish Interlude in the
Caribbean,” Forum Navalae 57 (2002): 64–92; Sjöström, ”’En nödvändig omständighet’,” 42–

96 Rolf Sjöström, ”Conquer and Educate. Swedish colonialism in the Caribbean island of
Saint-Barthélemy 1784 – 1878,” Paedagogica Historica 37, no. 1 (2001): 74–75; Norderling to af
Wetterstedt, 4 May 1820, SBS 7A.
98
43 percent, as opposed to white households, where there were only 11
female heads in a total of 112 households.97

Free black women were also frequently independent business-owners
rather than menial workers. They sold their merchandise on the streets or
from their own shops, and held their own lodging-houses and taverns. In
1802, a town tax record shows 13 taverns and three billiards, out of which
five are registered under female owners. Furthermore, slave-owning
women often rented their slaves for different kind of work as a principal
income, as was common among the island’s slave-owning population. As
Ale Pålsson has noted, whereas women’s share of the internal commerce
of St. Barthélemy reached significant values, their involvement in the
maritime professions and trade was virtually nonexistent. In this divide
between the maritime and the non-maritime world there was a significant
distortion of wealth, where only the wholesale merchants active in
shipping were the ones who accumulated large fortunes and capital.98

The polyglot society of Gustavia was the single most important
consequence of the Swedish aquisition of St. Barthélemy. The majority of
this new population proved to be transitory in nature, in fact settlers had
sought out the Swedish colony to settle permanently. They were in most
cases seeking refuge or testing the prospects of a convenient port to
conduct business which had been made difficult elsewhere, such as St.
Eustatius. In large part, the settlers became formally sworn Swedish
subjects, but there was no Swedish cultural hegemony that followed by the
event of naturalization. As will be explored in the next chapter, the
Swedish administration in the colony would have problems
accommodating its newly acquired subjects both politically, economically,

97 Yolande Lavoie, Carolyn Fick and Francine-M. Mayer, “A Particular Study of Slavery in
the Caribbean Island of Saint Barthélemy: 1648–1846,” Caribbean Studies 28, no. 2 (1995): 369–
403; Cf. for instance the exposition of the urban demographics of Charlotte Amalie in Neville
Hall, Slave Society in the Danish West Indies. St. Croix, St. John, and St. Croix (Baltimore: Johns
Hopkins University Press, 1992), 88–91; The Gustavia town census of 1796 in SBS 28, SNA.
There were 323 women out of a total of 682 among the whites, 192 women out of 388 among
the free black population, and 481 women out of 981 in the slave population.
98 The town tax record of taverns and billiards in 1802 is found in CP 75, FSB, ANOM;
Pålsson, “Our side of the water,” 70–71.
99
and socially. The Swedish foray into the free port trade of the Caribbean
as well as the commercial organization of the Swedish West India
Company would have several challenges to face.

100
2.3 Colonial Ambitions and Colonial Realities
What kind of commercial system sprung out of the Swedish colony? On
the surface, free ports such as Gustavia were devoid of most commercial
restrictions common to the 18th-century Caribbean, and as such
constituted an attractive subterfuge for merchants willing to circumvent
various trade restrictions. The free port and the commercial society it
fostered could possibly be understood as an economic institution, devised
to structure political, economic and social interaction. As described in a
seminal 1991 article by Douglass North, such an institution can be said to
consist of both informal constraints as well as formal rules. While informal
constraints include various sanctions, taboos, custom, traditions, and
codes of conduct, formal rules are codified in constitutions, laws and
property rights. The institutional perspective is important as institutions
determine transaction and production costs, and hence the profitability
and feasibility of engaging in a given economic activity. The lax regulations
and liberal trade policy of Gustavia, coupled with the neutrality of Swedish
shipping, then, could be understood as the chief components of Gustavia’s
institutional composition.99
But how successful was this combination of ostensibly beneficial
liberties and rights? The political and legal context in which maritime
commerce took place in the Caribbean and Atlantic was after all highly
complicated, volatile and constantly dynamic. Even though neutrality held
avenues of commerce open in times of war, neutral merchants and shippers
still faced the hazards of maritime depredations of warships or statesanctioned privateers, and the subsequent costs of seizure and legal
procedures. Wartime conditions nevertheless created opportunities for
extraordinary profits for those willing to brave the daunting risks involved.
Colonial magistrates too faced a daunting task of securing the rights of its
Swedish subjects, indeed even the territorial sovereignty of island waters.

99 Douglass North, “Institutions,” The Journal of Economic Perspectives 5, no. 1 (1991): 97–112.
101
As soon as the war broke out in 1793, Gustavia at once became subject to a
range of commercial, political, and social effects of wartime settings in the
Caribbean. Commercial traffic boomed as the utility of neutral free ports
gained in importance, but the local shipping also became exposed to new
perils at sea, and the inevitable involvement in privateering economies
entailed novel and challenging diplomatic disputes for the colonial
magistrates, who had limited means of securing and prosecuting neutral
rights.
To highlight the institutional limitations of the free port society of
Gustavia, one could paraphrase a concise characterization originally made
by Neville Hall in the context of the Danish West Indies, that is, a
“colonial power without dominion”. Similar to Denmark, Sweden did not
need and indeed could not establish and maintain possession to a degree
that previous European settlements in the West Indies had to do. Akin to
the Danish process of settlement in their limited Caribbean empire,
Sweden claimed sovereign control over its colony through formal legal
channels and purchase, and then invited foreign settlers and merchants
into its colony. In a parallel development, the Swedish government and
leading Stockholm merchants attempted to organize a direct commercial
link with the new colony, backed by company charters and privileges not
readily entitled to naturalized settlers of the colony. This chapter will try
to assess the impact of Swedish trade through the colony as well as the
relative importance of neutral international trade that the colony
facilitated in regional trade networks.100
Company and Private Swedish Trade
SWIC commenced its activities in 1787. An early problem was to attract
the interest in company stocks, and the initial mass of stockholder capital
never reached adequate levels to finance larger long-term investments such
as ships and cargoes, and the directors saw themselves obliged to dig deep

100 Neville Hall, Slave Society in the Danish West Indies, 1–33.
102
into their own accounts to meet immediate financing needs. Funding and
overhead costs were serious strains throughout the company’s brief
history. SWIC was beset from the beginning with a range of other
problems, both in Stockholm and in the colony itself. These aspects of
SWIC’s history are relatively well known since initial studies in the 1950s,
but this section will present research and analysis on the problems which
led to the quick disappearance of the company, and the circumvention of
Swedish trade per se from the transit trade of St. Barthélemy.101

The brief history of SWIC can in fact be viewed as a never-ending string
of misfortunes, missed opportunities, and outright disasters. SWIC went
through its first fifteen years of the initial charter only to suffer severe
losses in the face of a British occupation of the colony in 1801–02, as its
stores and property were plundered and destroyed by British forces. The
charter was renewed ad interim during the occupation with a view to allow
the directors the time to reorganize and to claim just compensation. And
while in the end the claims against the British were pressed home
successfully, this process endured until 1808 and only resulted in a pittance
of the initial claims. Long before the resolution of that particular problem,
the question had arisen whether SWIC’s charter should be renewed. In
March 1804 the directors held what was to be the last meeting of SWIC
stockholders at the Stockholm Stock Exchange. At this moment the
directors unveiled in detail the difficulties the company had had to
endure.102

101 Ingegerd Hildebrand’s thesis on the Swedish colony and SWIC has the obvious drawback
of only covering the period up until 1796. Therefore, it is not surprising that it lacks in more
definite conclusions about the company’s achievements, see for instance the summary in
Ingegerd Hildebrand, “S:t Barthélemy,” in Den svenska historien (Stockholm: Bonniers, 1968),
VII: 88–90, 96–97; Subsequent research largely builds on this work, cf. for instance Leos
Müller, Consuls, Corsairs, and Contraband, 175–180; Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 145, 153.
102 ”Herrar hufvudparticipanters Berättelse till interessenterne”, litt. B., 12 February 1804,
SWIC Minutes, 17 March 1804, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 157, SNA; For the Swedish claims,
see the undated appendices in the same minutes. SWIC made claims for 38,170 Spanish
dollars, most of which was rejected by the British government. In late 1804 SWIC accepted
the repayment offer of 18,161 dollars, which was mostly comprised of the estimated value of
goods procured and sold from its warehouses in Gustavia. See also “King’s warrant for
payments due to the Swedish St. Barthélemy claims,” 27 March 1805, WO 1/120, TNA.
103
The first commercial expedition, Enigheten, returned to the Baltic only
to be seized and condemned by Russian naval forces, a fateful consequence
of the Russo-Swedish war of 1788–90. During the total twenty year-period
of company charter from 1787 to 1806, the company dispatched a total of
21 voyages, three of which ended in shipwrecks, and three others which
ended up in the possession of belligerent forces. Two additional vessels,
which were purchased in the West Indies in order to facilitate inter-island
trade under company auspices, were captured and condemned during their
maiden voyages under Swedish flags.103
A critical blow to the company’s business on the domestic market
occurred in 1794, when the Swedish government reinstated a ban on coffee
and other luxury commodities, which had been a recurring imposition on
consumption in Sweden during the course of the 18th century. During the
existence of the company, coffee became the company’s mainstay of
homebound cargoes, as it was a comparably accessible commodity in the
West Indies and easily sold at a profit at Stockholm auctions. After the
1794 ban, coffee could still be landed into Swedish harbors, but only on the
condition that it would be sold to foreign markets and not for
consumption within the kingdom. At this juncture, the company directors
directed a plea to the Swedish government, as the ban was seen as too
injurious for the company to continue. If the company could not be given
some form of dispensation, the only other viable alternative was to ask the
crown to buy the company stock in its entirety, as had been done by the
Danish crown when it bought the stocks of the ill-fated Vestindisk
Handelsselskab. This fact was explicitly mentioned in the directors’
suggestion to the government in the wake of the coffee ban, but was

103 For details on SWIC ships and expeditions, see Appendix VII.
104
however promptly turned down, and the question was never raised again as
the ban was again lifted in 1796. 104
Acquiring competent local agents and maintaining good working
relations with them was another precarious aspect of company business.
The first company superintendent arrived in the colony in 1787 only to
develop a grave mental illness, fever, and die within a year. Subsequent
iterations of agents and company clerks were hired and dismissed in rapid
succession, all according to their individual lack of competence or support
from company directors. Governors and other magistrates were fast to
point out whether company hands failed to meet the right criteria. Many
agents were found to lack in necessary linguistic, book-keeping, or trading
skills, and were promptly dismissed if they were not up to their tasks. After
the superintendent’s death, the business house of Röhl & Hansen were
finally appointed as company agents as late as 1790, but soon incurred the
disapprobation of stockholders for different reasons. Their handling of a
company-affiliated shipwreck case was deemed dubious and too costly for
the investors. Röhl & Hansen were suspected of pocketing a share of the
bottomry loan of the ill-fated ship. Additionally, Röhl & Hansen were not
salaried agents, but received commissions on a share of the company
profits. This was a condition which particularly fell out of favor with the
directors. Röhl & Hansen were also rumored to have a poor business
reputation in French colonial markets vital to company interests. After
their dismissal in 1794, the new agent Gustav Wernberg demanded
commissions instead of a fixed salary, only to see himself dismissed within

104 The ban was in effect 1794–96 and 1799–1802. See Leos Müller, “Kolonialprodukter i
Sveriges handel och konsumtionskultur,” Historisk tidskrift, no. 2 (2004): 225–48; For the
directors’ suggestions, see the undated and unsigned document “Reflectioner”, in Handel och
sjöfart, vol. 190, which was in undoubtedly recorded by the board of directors early in the year
1794; Cf. Duke Carl to the SWIC board of directors, 6 February and 4 December 1794,
Handel och sjöfart, vol. 190, SNA; Hildebrand, Det svenska västindiska kompaniet, 291–94.
105
less than a year. The directors cited his demands as a breach of contract.
He would instead become an associate of the firm of Röhl & Hansen.105
The last agent of the company, Carl Dreyer, assumed his position after
Wernberg’s departure and made a promising start. He was responsible for
the company’s business on St. Barthélemy from 1796 to 1801, and enjoyed
a degree of support from the directors which his predecessors never had
had. But in the end he would however become the single most expensive
catastrophe for the company under its initial charter. Shortly after his
employment had commenced, concerns were raised over irregularities in
the accounts current. It was only in the middle of 1800 when detailed
accounts were received that it was revealed that Dreyer had racked up an
alarming personal debt to the company. In 1801, Dreyer’s balance in the
ledgers amounted to a tremendous sum of 90,288 rixdollars, nearly a third
of the total recorded capital (See Table 2.1).
Table 2.2 Yearly capital accounts of the Swedish West
India Company, 1790–1805, in Swedish rixdollars
1790 51,154 1796 111,418 1802 271,365
1791 – 1797 124,299 1803 253,545
1792 55,057 1798 145,654 1804 298,262
1793 – 1799 181,401 1805 366,164
1794 91,190 1800 212,167
1795 – 1801 278,787
Sources: Swedish West India Company journals 1790–1805, vols. 107–118, Swedish
West India Company general ledgers 1790–1805, vols. 90–101, Handel och sjöfart,
SNA; Lennart Bondeson, “Bokföringen i Västindiska Kompaniet,” Affärsekonomi,
no. 20 (Stockholm, 1951), 1353.
Quite understandably, the directors were both infuriated and
embarrassed by the whole affair. The Crown and other shareholders were
not notified until two years after the board of directors caught wind of the

105 For discussion on the SWIC agents, see von Rosenstein to Ruuth, 10 June 1788, SBS 1 A,
and von Rosenstein to Ruuth, 1 September 1788, SBS 1 B:1, SNA. Interestingly, Governor von
Rosenstein wanted SWIC to hire Fredrick Sugnin, a Swiss merchant recently moved from
St. Eustatius to St. Barthélemy; Cf. Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 167–170, 191, 230.
106
situation.106 In the meantime, Dreyer was given the opportunity to repay
his outstanding debt, but as it quickly turned out, he was in no way capable
of balancing his economy. The matter soon became very inflamed, and the
company withdrew his employment as agent and made arrangements for
the seizure and sale of his property. Dreyer however suffered a sudden and
untimely death in 1802 before a full investigation into the state of his
economy had been mounted, and the company could only recoup a fraction
of their losses from the whole ordeal. The exact reasons behind his debt
were never resolved, but it was never seriously suspected that he
embezzled the funds. The prevailing belief was that he had either made
private expeditions which had resulted in serious losses, or that he had
been swindled by his business associates in neighboring colonies.
Whatever the true reasons, he had entrenched himself neck-deep into
debt by borrowing into the Swedish West India Company stores, with the
ultimate losses accruing to the company itself.107
The yearly accounts of the company in Table 2.1 gives a rather fair
picture of its funds. After an unassuming start, consolidation seems to have
taken place towards the end of the century, and the years leading towards
the abrogation of the company’s charter gives the impression of a
commercial association that had gained some considerable traction. As has
been detailed above, the accounts however concealed some underlying
negative developments. There were others besides spendthrift agents. The
British occupation of 1801–02 was another net loss, as well as individual illfated expeditions already mentioned. It should be pointed out in this
context that the company guarded itself well against the risks of its
ventures. Cargoes and ships were insured and full repayments were almost
always guaranteed, as the directors prudently portioned out their policies
on private insurers in Stockholm, London, Amsterdam, and Hamburg.

106 SWIC Minutes 24 July 1800, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 156, SNA; Af Ugglas to Gustav IV
Adolf, 28 July 1802, SWIC Minutes 16 July 1802, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 157, SNA.
107 SWIC Minutes 17 March 1804, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 157, SNA; Among the sequestered
and sold property were his domestic slave Betzy and her child – Dreyer’s son – born shortly
after his death in 1802. See Fischer & Stenqvist to SWIC, undated letter, Handel och sjöfart,
vol. 170, SNA.
107
Here too, however, misfortune could strike. When one of the company’s
ships, L’Amerique, was shipwrecked in the English Channel with total loss
of cargo and crew, only a portion of the insurance could be retrieved. That
was because one of the policies taken out in Marseille could only be
received in worthless revolutionary assignats.
108
There were positive developments too. The company’s rights to most
of the public revenue of St. Barthélemy entailed that the company
benefitted from the expansion of maritime commerce in Gustavia.
Towards the close of the century, public revenue made out anything
between 10–20 percent of yearly net profits. For a commercial
organization that received public revenue and thus comprised a part of the
public authority and island government, the company was however
distinctively a non-entity. This condition led to serious criticism towards
the role of the company in the island administration. In 1789 Jean Turcon,
a French wine merchant who had been one of the first to become a
naturalized Swede after colonization, wrote a scathing treatise directed at
the inactivity and failures of the company as well as the incompetence of
colonial magistrates in general. The situation in 1789 was fast approaching
a critical point for its new settlers, claimed Turcon:
[…] La devastation de cette nouvelle ville gustavia, fairoit [feraient] tout
de peines, au peu de personnes qui y sont Encore, et Le Ridicule qu’il se

108 Tom Söderberg, Försäkringsväsendets historia i Sverige intill Karl Johanstiden (Stockholm:
P.A. Norstedt & söner, 1935), 254–60; for the affair involving the Marseille assignats, see
SWIC Minutes, 14 March, 29 March, and 29 October 1798, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 156, SNA;
The share of public revenue in the SWIC’s capital is often hard to calculate, owing to the
recording consequences of quarterly collections and the division of revenues between the
company and the crown, but at least from 1799 it stayed at around 10 percent, and in good
years such as 1804, it may well have been well in excess of 20 percent. Compare e.g. the SWIC
general ledger, vol. 97, and the SWIC journal of 1799, vol. 113, Handel och sjöfart, with the
council’s ledgers and books 1799, SBS 25 B. See also for reference Fredrik Fåhraeus,
“Statistiska upplysningar rörande svenska kolonin S:t Barthélemy,” Statistisk tidskrift 2 (1865):
256–65. It should also be added here that double-entry accounting in 18th-century trade was
less about the exact measurement of profit and loss than the tracking of all-important credit
flows. See Pierre Gervais, “Why Profit and Loss Didn’t Matter: The Historicized Rationality
of Early Modern Merchant Accounting,” in Merchants and Profit in the Age of Commerce, 1680–
1830, ed. Pierre Gervais, Yannick Lemarchand and Dominique Margairaz (London: Pickering
& Chatto, 2014), 33–52.
108
seroit acquis dans L’Etendüe de cette amerique, qu’on ne peut Le
cachér, n’y ay Roy n’y a La compagnie, afin d’y Remedier, ou il faut
Entierement L’abandonnér […]109
He explained that the slow and unproductive manner in which the
company conducted its business caused financial harm as well as sowed
prejudice and discontent among the island’s trading population.
Shipments from Sweden were eagerly anticipated by local merchants, but
they often waited in vain for long stretches of time. When Swedish cargoes
occasionally arrived, they “came and went”, claimed Turcon, “without
much ever having transpired either for the good or bad of the colony.”110
It is perhaps not surprising that the budding society of Gustavia
merchants did not take well to a serious competitor protected by royal
privilege, but the perceived harm was serious enough that criticism also
found its voices among Swedish officials. At the turn of the century,
Governor Ankarheim opined that the company charter should be revoked
and never reinstated. He observed the hemlock that was imposed on local
trade by the protections inherent in company privileges. Even as the
company was bound by its own charter to use its assets to develop island
infrastructure, little in way of public projects was ever undertaken. Among
local merchants, the company’s monopolies as well as its apparent lethargy
in questions for public good created an atmosphere of hostility towards it.
They also naturally saw with distaste that the greater part of official
revenues, money paid from their pockets, went straight into company
coffers.111

109 Jean Turcon, “Traité de commerce pour Gustavia Isle St Btmy – du vent de L’Amerique,”
Manuscript of 84 pages in Handel och sjöfart, vol. 190, SNA. Besides being a critique of
governance and trade in St. Barthélemy, the bulk of the manuscript’s content consists of an
introductory manual on the trade of the West Indian and European ports, which Turcon sent
to the board of directors with a view to inform and educate.
110 Turcon, “Traité de commerce,” Handel och sjöfart, vol. 190, SNA.
111 Ankarheim to von Fersen, 30 April & 15 July 1801, Hans Axel von Fersens samling, vol. 12,
SNA.
109
Two decades later, Johan Norderling, then newly inaugurated as
Governor, recalled the same dismissive sentiments of the company in a
retrospective on his earlier tenure as colonial judge in 1788–92:
Dans les tems de la soidisant Compagnie des Indes Occidentales, de
triste memoire, même misere et apathie; le gain de ces gens-là était les
¾ des revenus de l’isle, que le Gouvernement avait été assez bon de leur
accorder, pour faire rien, ah! J’ai tort, ils gouvernaient l’isle, en nommant
aux places principales, et avec un discernement, don’t nous nous
souviendrons longtems ici.112
It is important to note that in his office as judge, Norderling had been
salaried by the company. Vocal objections such as these were all important
considerations, when, in 1805, the Swedish Board of Commerce finally
reviewed a possible renewal of the company charter. The Board took
written suggestions by the directors of the company as well as private
merchants, represented by the Association of Stockholm merchants.
While assessing the development of the company’s charter during the
preceding twenty years, grave criticisms were voiced over the company’s
abuses and shortcomings. The private actors of merchant associations
were naturally privy to repeal the yoke of privileged trade, but the weight
of evidence was also against the company. The company had not been able
to fulfill its ambitions of furthering Swedish commercial interests in the
West Indies, let alone perform its most rudimentary public
responsibilities as per its initial charter.113
The Board of Commerce proposed that the present charter should be
revoked, but left an opening for a new association to be formed with a
much more limited set of privileges. Among the key adjustments to the
new projected charter were that the company would not receive any part
of the public revenues of St. Barthélemy, and its personnel would not have
any seat in the colony council. The proposal was accepted in the King’s

112 Norderling’s report, 20 November 1819, SBS 6 A, SNA.
113 Board of Commerce to Gustav IV Adolf, 9 April 1805, Kommerskollegii skrivelser till
Kongl. Maj:t, SNA.
110
council despite the protests of the company directors, who let it be clear
that they would not helm a future company under such poor auspices. No
one else stepped forward either, which instantly terminated any lingering
presence of a Swedish commercial association on the island. The trade
company project had come to an end, and the free port was left to run itself
without a distinct Swedish commercial interest.114
The company’s dismal achievements was in no way atypical for the kind
of Scandinavian chartered companies of the time. Their general marginal
success has been understood as an outcome of the fundamental problem
that faced Scandinavian maritime expansion, the markets. During the 17th
century, the Swedish home market was characterized by marginally
developed economy and a high degree of self-sufficiency. This kind of
market had a limited ability to receive colonial goods, seeing also that a
large portion of the sugar, coffee, and other tropical imports into Sweden
came from Copenhagen as Danish re-exports. Conversely, in foreign
markets, the Swedes had to compete with traders of other European
nations without the benefit of domestic privileges.115
This was all the more clear, since despite the recent opportunity left by
the company’s disappearance for private trade, there was no renewed
movement of private Swedish expeditions to St. Barthélemy. During the
first two decades of Swedish ownership of St. Barthélemy, there had been
no shortage of interest in Sweden outside company circles. Between 1785
and 1805, there were at least 35 private Swedish expeditions conducted to
the island from the Baltic (See Appendix VIII) The Gothenburg-based
Christian Arfwidsson & Sons, whose close associate Niclas von Jacobsson
had been offered the first position as company agent, was one of the early
key players. Arfwidsson sent a commercial expedition, to the colony as
early as Christmas Eve 1785, the ship Fred och Ymnoghet. It carried a cargo
calculated for the West Indian trade as well as a young agent and relative
of Arfwidsson’s, Paul Gustaf Teuchler. Shortly thereafter, Teuchler along
with another associate opened the business house of Teuchler & Schürer

114 SWIC Minutes, 6 March 1805, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 157, SNA.
115 Ole Feldbæk, “The Danish Trading Companies,” 204–18.
111
& Co. “Co.” was nothing but a thinly veiled placeholder for Arfwidsson
himself. Teuchler & Schürer set up their business and went about
conducting their affairs.
Their initial spirit of enterprise notwithstanding, the members of the
business house soon experienced harsh goings when they tried to convert
their merchandise into cash or exchange goods. After trying their hand at
creating some contacts during the summer of 1786, they found themselves
without any partners and an almost unsold inventory. Circumstances for
the house had already turned critical when they learned in October that
one of their bills of exchange had been protested in London. It was only
one of many to follow. The reason for the vanished credit was that the firm
of Arfwidsson & Sons suddenly plummeted towards bankruptcy amid a
scandalous case of loans fraud. Creditors quickly closed in on Teuchler &
Schürer, and their complete mass of property, stocks, and slaves were
seized. Teuchler ignominiously left the island in 1787 with unpaid debts
and a tarnished reputation as a swindler, while Schürer remained for many
years on St. Barthélemy, working in turns as shopkeeper and merchant, but
also as official translator, interpreter and vice government secretary of the
island council.116
Despite the hints at foul play, the commercial failure of this particular
Swedish firm displays many of the inherent difficulties that outsiders faced
in establishing a business operation in the 18th century Caribbean. Creating
working business relations required time, as well as important building
blocks of competence and trust, in the form of linguistic skills, kinship
links, religious connections, and so on. While Arfwidsson’s agents
certainly did not lack in financial backing – at least from the outset – it is
very doubtful whether they possessed the necessary competence to garner
trust and to build stable commercial relations. When their wealthy patron
became insolvent, their operations finally unraveled. The Arfwidsson
family itself moved towards a concentration on domestic mines and

116 Tingbrand, Who was who, 507, 540.
112
ironworks, and there was no other speculator in the West Indies trade
after Christian Arfwidsson died in 1799.117
There were however Swedish entrepreneurs who fared better in the
commercial riptides of the West Indies and managed to establish viable
business houses. One such person was Daniel Öström, established in the
island at the same time as Teuchler & Schürer. He started out by bartering
small wares, and sold provisions and rum mainly to the Swedish garrison in
partnership with an Englishman named Kelly. He later expanded his
business operations and founded the business house of Öström, Procter &
Co. At the height of his career, he had established a regional trading
network which included contacts in the United States. His apparent
success was displayed through the size of his town property, a
“commodious” residence in Gustavia on Kungsgatan which counted “a
large Hall, six Chambers, two Galleries, a large and convenient store with
Compting-Room, shelves & Counter” as well as “three small pleasant
Chambers in the Yard, a large Cistern, Negroe-Rooms, Kitchen, Cellar,
[and] Pantry […].” One obvious key to Öström’s success was his ability to
create commercial ties in the region and beyond, through his partnerships
with Anglo-Saxon actors and firms. Crucially, he married into an English
family in 1790. He however did not trade primarily in Swedish-produced
goods, but in British manufactures. Daniel Öström died in 1803 or 1804,
without a successor to continue the family business. Daniel Öström is thus
an example of Swedes who were proficient and competent enough to make
a living as merchants in the Swedish colony, but his business did not do

117 Although undoubtedly far more common, mercantile failure is less frequently described
in scholarly research on the 18th century Atlantic World. For an interesting example of such
a description, see Manuel Covo, “I, François B.: Merchant, Protestant and Refugee – A Tale
of Failure in the Atlantic World,” French History 25, no. 1 (2011): 69–88; Jan Ekerman,
“Svindlande affärer i Gustavia,” S:t Barthélemyjournalen (1999); Müller, Consuls, Corsairs, and
Commerce, 184–85; “Arfwidsson, Christian,” 173–74; Christopher Carlander Resan till S:t
Barthélemy. Dr Christopher Carlanders resejournal 1787–88, ed. Sven Ekvall and Christer
Wijkström. (Falköping: Gummesons Tryckeri AB, 1979), 73; Magnus Andersson, “Trade,
Credit, and Trust. Examples from Gothenburg’s Merchants in the European Market at the
End of the 18th Century,” in Preindustrial Commercial History. Flows and Contacts between Cities
in Scandinavia and Northwestern Europe, eds. Markus A. Denzel and Christina Dalhede
(Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2014), 238–40. I am indebted to Jan Ekerman regarding
information on Teuchler & Schürer & Co.
113
much to tie any links of Swedish industry and trade to the region. Precisely
as others similar to him, his success was a highly individual one.118
Finally, a condition that worked against the establishment of St.
Barthélemy as a gateway for Swedish exports was the slow development of
the commercial exchange between Sweden and the United States. High
hopes were entertained in Swedish maritime and commercial circles when
the U.S.-Swedish trade treaty was signed in 1783. The United States would
indeed become, alongside with the United Kingdom, one of Sweden’s
most important export markets. Yet, this development is of a considerably
later date, American-Swedish trade failed to materialize in a significant
way until at least 1809, when trade picked up for reasons which will be
discussed in more detail in chapter 4. The reason for the initial slow
advancement of this trade this lies in a manifold set of factors. The
dynamic patterns of the international iron trade were crucial. The
possibility for another export market for iron in the United States aroused
some expectations in the Swedish iron industry, but Russia had managed
to supersede Sweden in the exportation of iron to the United Kingdom
after 1780, and Russian iron was also favored by American buyers.
Additionally, the U.S. – Swedish trade treaty did not accord Americans any
exemptions from the Swedish Navigation Acts, and they traded at a
distinct disadvantage in Swedish ports. It is also of note that the market at
St. Petersburg could absorb a greater quantity of goods than Gothenburg
or Stockholm, so the Russian market attracted the majority of American
trade with destinations in the Baltic. The Baltic trade as a whole, from the

118 Tingbrand, Who was who, 597–98; Carlander, Resan till S:t Barthélemy, 73, 79; Öström to
Rejmers, 10 January 1795, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 169, SNA; The Report of Saint Bartholomew,
11 May 1804. The foundation and walls of Öström’s old property still exists. It served as the
Governor’s residence during the middle of the 19th century, and as the French departmental
mayor’s office for a long time after France reacquired the island.
114
American perspective, remained a supplemental and experimental source
of business for a long time.119
Even when Swedish goods did arrive in the Caribbean, they were often
regarded as oddities in a commercial world accustomed to certain
standards, fashions, and tastes. Swedish rope and cordage, for instance, was
found too thick and too richly tarred by presumptive buyers, in
comparison with more popular Dutch variants. Market preferences
applied to a wide variety of goods from small nails to spars, lumber, and
ironware, and there was never any apparent success in meeting the
customers with small adjustments or changes in the production of Swedish
goods. Company agents and officials often complained of poor
assortments in outward cargoes. To meet certain demands, outward
company ships often had foreign goods loaded, such as Russian canvas and
naval stores, which always found ready buyers. Perhaps the single most
convincing indicator of the weak link between the Swedish and Caribbean
market was that after the revocation of the company charter in 1805, there
is no record of a Swedish ship clearing for St. Barthélemy until 1812. The
first ship entered the Sound from St. Barthélemy in 1810, but then again
this was an American ship under the command of a captain named James
Armstrong, headed for Rostock. Naturally, this condition should be
viewed in light of the considerably higher risks for transatlantic trade in
the age of the Napoleonic Wars and the Continental System. But even so,
it shows rather clearly that if St. Barthélemy occupied an economic role of

119 Rolf Adamson, “Swedish Iron Exports to the United States, 1783–1860,” Scandinavian
Economic History Review 17, no. 1 (1969): 58–114; Müller, Consuls, Corsairs, and Commerce, 196–
198, 222–24; Leos Müller, “Swedish-American Trade and the Swedish Consular Service, 1780–
1840,” International Journal of Maritime History 1 (2003): 1–16; Daniel A. Rabuzzi, “Cutting
Out The Middleman? American Trade In Northern Europe, 1783–1815,” in Merchant
Organization and Maritime Trade in the North Atlantic, 1660–1815, ed. Olaf Uwe Jansen (St.
John’s, Newfoundland: International Maritime Economic History Association, 1998), 175–
197; Swärd, Latinamerika i svensk politik, 33–42; cf. also Heckscher, Sveriges ekonomiska historia
II:2, 666–667.
115
whatever importance imaginable, it was never that of middleman in the
commercial exchange between metropole and colonial markets.120
Free Port Trade and Privateering
The arrival of the war in 1793 also signaled the return of outright
commercial warfare in the West Indies. Britain promptly resurrected the
old rule of 1756 which had been dormant since the conclusion of the Seven
Years’ War, albeit in a more severe form than before. In 1793, Britain
promulgated orders that barred neutrals not merely from carrying goods
between enemy colonies and the mother country, but also from carrying
goods from the enemy colonies to the neutrals’ own home territory for
domestic consumption. The rule however was extremely difficult to
enforce effectively. In the British West Indies, the role of enforcer and
prize adjudicator was assumed by the Vice Admiralty Courts. They were
indispensable in helping the British Royal Navy and the privateers defend
the islands and prosecute the war. By the end of the 18th century, there was
a dense network of British Vice Admiralty Courts in the West Indies.
Beginning in the 17th century, there were permanent courts established in
Jamaica, Barbados, Bermuda, Bahamas, St. Kitts, Nevis, Montserrat,
Dominica, Tobago, Tortola and Trinidad. The practice of establishing
temporary wartime courts in captured enemy colonies also added to the
list Santo Domingo (1794), Martinique-St. Lucia (1795), Curaçao (1801), St.
Vincent, St. Croix (1809) and Guadeloupe (1811).121

120 On buyer preference and their opinions on Swedish merchandise, see for instance Dreyer
to SWIC, 25 May 1797, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 169, SNA; On the apparent disinterest of
Swedish merchants in the Caribbean trade for many decades, see Norderling to af
Wetterstedt, 14 December 1822, SBS 8A, SNA; On the general summary, cf. Heckscher,
Sveriges ekonomiska historia, 666–667, and Müller, Consuls, Corsairs, and Commerce, 186; See
Appendices VII and IX for information on the Swedish trade with St. Barthélemy.
121 Craton, Vice Admiralty Courts, 43; David J. Starkey, “The Origin and Regulation of
Eighteenth-Century British Privateering,” in Bandits at Sea. A Pirates Reader, ed. C.R. Pennell
(New York: New York University Press, 2001), 69–81.
116
Privateering efforts during wartime could also be a response to
progressive economic and political marginalization, as it became in the
French colony of Guadeloupe under revolutionary leadership. In an early
stage of the war, Guadeloupe became entrenched in prolonged turmoil
after internecine clashes between royalists and patriots. The factional
conflicts also gained another dimension after the abolition of slavery and
proclamation of free black populations’ rights. After changing hands a
number of times between 1789 and 1793, Victor Hugues reclaimed the
island for France and instituted a range of deep-going societal changes. A
significant alteration was the liberation of slaves, the latter of which
numbered around 90,000 in 1789. Conversely, the white population was
decimated as a large majority of the 13,000 whites either fled or were
guillotined by the revolutionaries in the wake of the upheavals. The
economic structure founded on agriculture was thrown into disarray, and
an extensive policy of privateering was instituted in order to maintain the
colony both economically and politically in the midst of the maritime
conflict with Great Britain.122
When the British conquered Martinique in 1794, Guadeloupe was the
only colony left under French control in the Eastern Caribbean. The
Guadeloupe caboteur tradition during the second half of the 18th century
had thrived on smuggling as well as privateering, and was deeply dependent
on the extensive port networks which facilitated trade between the
southern North American colonies and the Spanish American mainland.
St. Barthélemy was a recent addition to this network at this time, along
with the Danish and the Dutch islands which were long since established.
The intercolonial relationship between St. Barthélemy and the
surrounding French colonies after the revolution would assume more
complicated forms, at once mutually beneficial as well as increasingly

122 Rodigneaux, La guerre de course, 56, 60–66 ; Frédéric Régent, Esclavage, métissage, liberté : La
Révoution française en Guadeloupe, 1789–1802 (Paris : Grasset, 2004), 355–71; Anne PérotinDumon, Être Patriote sous les Tropiques : La Guadeloupe, 1789–1794 (Basse-Terre : Société
d’histoire de la Guadeloupe, 1985), 205–25; See also Goncal López Nadal, “Corsairing as a
Commercial System,” in Bandits at Sea. A Pirates Reader, ed. C.R. Pennell (New York: New
York University Press, 2001), 125–36.
117
problematic. As soon as the war broke out in 1793 many French coasting
craft were fitted out as corsairs in Martinique and Guadeloupe. As a result,
the buccaneering aggressions of the French revolutionary authorities
would be operated largely out of the port cities of Guadeloupe. The
corsairing ships were manned by an increasing number of privateers
(corsaires particuliers), owned and commanded by local caboteurs. The
increasing armament of privateers was a direct consequence of rapidly
dwindling naval forces sent from France in 1794 and 1799, operating as
letters of marque (corsaires de la République). In general, the distinction
between privateers and letters of marque was straightforward. Letters of
marque were primarily merchant vessels which conducted regular trading
voyages, but were empowered by state authorities to attack and capture
enemy vessels while at sea. Privateers on the other hand were solely
occupied with cruising for enemy prizes. To support the French
privateering ventures in the Caribbean Sea, revolutionary authorities set
up agences de prises, or bounty courts, in neutral islands to oversee the sale
of privateering prizes and to repair, equip and supply their own ships.123
Whereas St. Barthélemy was situated directly in the middle of a net of
British Vice Admiralty jurisdiction, a French bounty court was set up in
Gustavia itself under the guidance of a local French citizen, Balthazar
Bigard, around 1794. The bounty courts were not legal institutions per se,
the actual decisions and condemnations were effected in Guadeloupe. The
bounty courts only functioned as the handlers and auctioneers of seized
enemy property, as well as mediators and middlemen between privateers
and local authorities. Thus, in St. Barthélemy, Bigard was also the resident
French consul. The presence of the bounty court was beneficial for locally
settled merchants, insofar as cheap cargoes and ships were to be had when
French corsairs brought them into Gustavia. They served as an outlet for
seized colonial commodities, spoils of war, and a purchase center for the
provisions, military supplies, manufactures and food products the

123 Rodigneaux, La guerre de course, 73; Pérotin-Dumon, ”Cabotage, Contraband, and
Corsairs,” 66; Anne Pérotin-Dumon, ”Témoignages sur la Guadeloupe en 1794”, Bulletin de la
Societé d’histoire de la Guadeloupe, no. 47, 1981, 5–33; Pérotin-Dumon, La ville aux Iles, 223–39.
118
Republic no longer sent to its Caribbean colonies. In the ports were
French bounty courts were present, Guadeloupe also exported its reduced
crops of sugar, coffee and cotton.124
For better and worse, St. Barthélemy and its merchant community
became more closely associated with the French privateers and letters of
marque than with their British counterparts. In a letter to the American
consul in St. Barthélemy, the Swedish Governor af Trolle transmitted the
claims of Gustavia merchant firm Messrs. Terrasse père & Ebbens, on
sundry goods, as well as the claims of Alexander Wardrobe, on 100 beams
of writing paper, all laden on board the French letter of marque Buonaparte,
which had been caught by “one of the United States’ ships of war”. Af
Trolle asked for the recovery of these goods as they had been “bona fide
Swedish neutral property”. As long as the relationship between St.
Barthélemy and Guadeloupe was tenable, there were often mutual benefits
in the offering. Hugues himself asserted in official correspondence that
with the assistance of benevolent Swedish governors, Guadeloupe had a
ready means of supply of both victuals and firearms.
125
But the institution of the French bounty court in Gustavia also became
an economic nuisance for resident merchants, and ultimately, a political
liability for the Swedish government. The activities of French corsairs was
at times all-pervasive in the small free port, and they would occasionally
jump on the opportunity to harass visiting merchant vessels. An infamous
case strained relations between the revolutionary authorities on
Guadeloupe and the administration on St. Barthélemy to a breaking point.
In early November of 1796, a French privateer seized an outgoing Danish
sloop in the road of Gustavia, and forced the vessel into the custody of a
French bounty court in St. Martin for adjudication. Despite emphatic

124Af Ugglas to Gustav IV Adolf, 10 December 1803, SWIC Minutes 10 December 1803,
Handel och sjöfart, vol. 157, SNA; Rodigneaux, La guerre de course, 73; Pérotin-Dumon, La ville
aux Iles, 241–46.
125 Af Trolle to Job Wall, 26 October 1799, M72, RG 59, NARA. Job Wall forwarded Af
Trolle’s request to Pickering on the same day; Rodigneaux, La guerre de course, 73; For the
French weapons trade over St. Barthélemy, see especially Bagge’s report, 28 July 1795, SBS
1B:2, SNA.
119
objections among the inhabitants and a few Swedish officials the corsair
was later allowed by the Governor to return to anchor in Gustavia. Besides
infuriating other members of the St. Barthélemy council, this incident was
the source of popular protest among town merchants. The heated
discussions following in the wake of the incident eventually resulted in an
official plea for protection for their commerce as well as a request that the
governor af Trolle denounce this violation of neutral commerce. The
authorities on Guadeloupe quickly caught wind of the ongoing protest in
St. Barthélemy, and followed suit with their own rebuttal against the
reaction of the town’s merchants. The St. Barthélemy judge, Johan
Norderling, was especially targeted for his involvement in the reactions.
His tenure would not survive this affair, as he was recalled in 1798 by the
orders of the Swedish West India Company. The Company directors saw
independent actors such as Norderling as rogues and a grave threat to
peaceful relations with neighboring islands.126
The presence of a French consul can be contrasted with the attempts
of the United States to establish a consulate in St. Barthélemy. The
American government had seen fit to commission a consul on the island
since 1799. The appointment of U.S. consul had been received by Job Wall,
an American but also Swedish burgher. He nevertheless failed to be
recognized by the Swedish Governor. In fact, no American consul was
accepted by the Swedish authorities until 1821, despite that several were
sent out until that time. All of them met with refusal. The St. Barthélemy
governors time and again explained this course with similar reasons. An
American consul could issue various legal documents instead of island
authorities and would thus deprive them of a share of their emoluments.
The council however never had the political leverage to oust the French
consul from his position, even though were good enough reason to do so.

126 SWIC Minutes, 21 July 1797, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 156; Norderling to SWIC, 28 May
1797, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 169, SNA; Governor af Trolle’s report 27 May 1797, SBS 1B:2;
He was also accused of administrative misconduct, mostly for the issuance of illegal seapasses together with the former Governor Bagge. Especially the latter affair was controversial
within the SWIC. His role in this particular incident was unclear, however, and his conduct
in the relations to Guadeloupe was used as the foremost argument in the decision for his
dismissal.
120
Ironically, the refusal to recognize any U.S. consul was motivated by
negative past experiences the French consulate and the bounty court in
Gustavia. Finally, American merchants and seafarers alike did not
necessarily see an American consul in a free port as an unequivocally
positive situation. The presence of an American consul would also, in a
sense, entail the presence of American law. American shipping passing
through Gustavia was after all often engaged in branches of trade which
were prohibited by domestic laws.127
Meanwhile, the question of privateering activity in the port of Gustavia
was a difficult one which continued to engage colonial magistrates as well
as the government in Stockholm. At an early stage, Governors voiced the
request that the Swedish colony should be able to admit foreign privateers
of all nations as well as their bounty, as this had been an established
practice in other free ports such as Charlotte Amalie for decades. The
argument in favor of this praxis was that it was impossible to prohibit
individuals in the participation of privateering economy of the region, and
that the Swedish crown should at least exact the customary taxes and port
charges for privateers in order to gain some revenue in return. The
response of the Swedish government, however, was a categorical refusal to
permit such a policy.128

Whether this sentiment was sincere or if it was only a convenient stance
to apply in official diplomatic relations, it was in any case impossible to
maintain in practice. In a reflection on colonial affairs, the Swedish
minister von Asp pithily asserted that:
In a West Indian possession, be the oversight as adequate as it may be,
it will always be impossible to prevent the Inhabitants to pursue such

127 Wall to Pickering, 30 June 1799, M72, RG 59, NARA; Wernberg to SWIC, 5 May 1795,
Handel och sjöfart, vol. 169, SNA; Söderström to af Trolle, 28 September 1799, SBS 1 B:2,
SNA; af Trolle to Söderström, 27 November 1799, SBS 1 B:2, SNA. In 1804 a proclamation
was issued to the effect that no consul of any nation whatsoever could be recognized without
the expressed consent of the Swedish court. The Report of Saint Bartholomew, 19 September

128 SWIC Minutes, 10 December 1803, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 157, SNA; Gustav IV Adolf
to SWIC, 28 January 1804, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 190, SNA.
121
commerce that is prohibited in the quarters of the region, or to lend
their assistance to the same; – and, especially in wartime, it would be
vain to try and restrain all actions, which would give reason to the
protests of foreign powers. It could never be in the power of Sweden to
meet with armed force those aggressions which time after another
would be occasioned from such trade.129
Colonial administrators had a difficult task of staking out some kind of
middle ground between the protection of their subjects’ commercial
interests, and the cautious diplomatic stance towards foreign powers. The
Swedish government could in his view never afford to think that it could
control its overseas subjects completely in terms of trade policy. Nor could
it realistically hope to claim justice for its naturalized subjects involved in
neutral or illicit trade, as it would occasion too high a material and political
cost.
In practice, foreign privateers were seldom refused entry into Gustavia.
At any rate, it was also beneficial for the colony. The SWIC agents were
quite open with the fact that a large part of their purchases during the
1790s were often from British prize-vessels, escorted by French privateers
from Martinique and other privateer hotbeds. It was often the only way
for them to get reasonable prizes on sugar shipments to Stockholm.
Sometimes it was hard to control the transactions in nearby territorial
waters belonging to the Swedish crown. Ile Fourchue to the southwest of
St. Barthélemy, or Five Islands as it was also known, became a notorious
rendezvous point for privateers and smugglers. It was simply a convenient
place to regroup and liquidate cargoes with the aid of willing merchants
and collaborators on nearby islands, including the burghers of Gustavia but
without the supervision of Swedish authorities. While inside Swedish

129 Per Olof von Asp, ”Om Ultramarinska Besittningar; i anseende till den nytta eller skada
som, före Europeisk Magt af 2ra eller 3je ordningen, kan af dem härröra”, 12 February 1802, F
812g:7, Per Olof von Asps handskrifter, UUB. Author’s translation: ”Uti en WästIndisk
Besittning, tillsynen må wara så god man wille, blir det alltid omöjligt att hindra Inbyggarne
att drifwa sådan handel som är förbuden å orter i nejden, eller att låna deras biträde till sådant;
– och, särdeles i krigstider, sökte man fåfängt förekomme allt hwad der kunde gifwa, andra
magter anledningar att Öfwer sådant beswära sig. – I Sweriges förmåga kan det aldrig blifwa,
att med krigsstyrka mota de wåldsamheter som sådant tid efter annan kunde åstadkomma.”
122
territory, it could not be controlled effectively by Swedish forces. As such,
it became a kind of free port unto itself, where transactions of the most
illegal and questionable kind could and did take place.130
The engagement of Swedish subjects in privateering and their attempts
to arm and equip vessels registered under Swedish colors were however
promptly prosecuted. Moses Mendez, a Gustavia burgher who had
naturalized in 1793, had his property sequestered by the Swedish council in
1799 when it was unearthed that he had equipped privateers under the flag
of the French republic. The Swedish administration was quite consistent
in regard to this praxis, and many others who attempted similar operations
met with the same fate. An official proclamation to the effect of these
decisions was made in 1808. This also entailed that individual merchants
faced serious obstacles even if they wanted to arm their own commercial
vessels only for their own protection.131
Commercial Warfare and Commercial Risk
Individual merchants and seafarers engaged in regular trade, in turn, had
to run the gauntlet during their inter-island voyages during the wars. The
fate of vessels and others taken by privateers and naval vessels varied. At
worst, both cargo and vessel were lost, awarded as prizes to the captain and
crew by whom they were taken. At best such vessels were detained, often
for long periods, while a prize court decided their fates. In the latter case,
owners lost the use of their vessels for an indeterminate time and often
incurred substantial losses because of changes in the market prices of

130 Wernberg to the directors of the SWIC, 24 April 1795; Regarding the islet of Fourchue,
see Per Tingbrand, “Femöarne – f.d. svenskt territorium,” Piteå segelsällskaps sjörulla 17 (1991):
136–62.
131 Regarding the Mendez case, see SWIC Minutes, 10 July 1799, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 156,
SNA; Another case which was similar to Mendez’s was the French privateer La Superieure, see
Goyon to Stackelberg, 13 May 1812 and Stackelberg to Goyon, 18 May 1812 SBS 2, SNA; The
proclamation, titled Kongl Maj:ts Nådiga Förbud emot Enskilte Fartygs inredning till armering utan
Kongl Maj:ts särskilta Nådiga tillstånd. Given Stockholm Castle 25 February 1808, in SBS 11,
SNA.
123
commodities detained, spoilage and lack of return on capital invested in
sequestered cargoes. The privateers and even the lawyers and officers of
the Vice Admiraly Courts themselves were dependent on the earnings
from prize sales, a situation which lended itself in times to corruption and
other effects of vested interests. Verdicts of condemnation could at times
fall at the presence of the flimsiest of pretexts. Even if the vessels were
finally acquitted, court and procedure costs often befell the owners of
seized ships. In British Vice Admiralty Courts, for instance, this was made
possible by the institution of the Writ of Probable Cause. According to
this prescript, the judge of the Vice Admiralty Court could certify, when
seized vessels or cargoes were acquitted, whether the seizers had been
justified in their suspicions. If so, the unfortunate defendant was held
liable for the costs of his otherwise successful case. This was another
instance of the generosity that the British Crown bestowed upon
informers, seizers, and captors, in order to prosecute its maritime war
against foreign powers.132
In addition to the perils of due process, the violence and avarice of
privateers and their crews were especially notorious in the eyes of neutral
traders. A Danish merchant trading out of St. Thomas, Johan P. Nissen,
described Tortola privateers as the worst kind of seaborne ruffians
imaginable. Violence and robbery was their business, and they typically
cruised in small schooners with 25 to 30 men on board. This relatively large
crew was maintained so as to be able to steer both the privateer and the
prize vessel to the nearest British port with a Vice Admiralty Court. It was
not unusual that captives complained of theft before the matter of their
case was decided. Money, clothes and liquors were among the first articles
that privateer crews cleared from cargo holds. British privateers cruising
the road of Gustavia regularly showed their audacity by pursuing their
targets almost right into Le Carénage. During the few years after 1793, St.
Barthélemy was virtually blockaded by them. The town batteries were
quite frequently forced to fire at ships preying on arriving craft, and the

132 Craton, “Vice Admiralty Courts,” 67–68.
124
musket and grapeshot fire aimed at fleeing merchantmen sometimes
sprayed the shores of the road.133
While they brought danger and a risk-filled existence, wars also
provided opportunity. General earnings from a successfully completed
voyage wages skyrocketed in wartime, as well as sailor’s wages and
complementary trades. Merchant vessels that tried their luck in the face
of hostile waters thus could offer wages far higher than others. Nissen, who
described his encounters with Tortola privateers, was “captured and
plundered” seventeen times by British privateers during the wars, but he
nevertheless thrived as a well-to-do wine merchant in St. Thomas, despite
his losses. Additionally, the business of privateering offered mariners to
make another kind of living as well as to express political commitments
and affiliations, especially during the French Revolution. For free blacks
and slaves, work onboard a privateer could be the difference between
servitude and freedom. It has also been suggested that privateering
enabled seamen of different persuasions to remain outside of the imperial
framework. A Spanish agent visiting St. Thomas in 1795 observed the
presence of several French privateers in the harbor of Charlotte Amalie,
but he could only single out a minority of Frenchmen among their crews.
Instead, the privateers were operated by a small number of Danes and
Italians along with a majority of mariners whom he termed as “people
without a fixed place of residence.”134
Finally, means of circumventing commercial thresholds were offered by
the competing colonial powers themselves. Britain finally came to the
conclusion that the continuous legal wrangling with neutrals over the rule
of 1756 was fruitless, as neutrals were always adept at circumventing
innovations and adjustments in prevailing legislation. Instead, it was

133 J.P. Nissen, Reminiscences of a 46 Years Residence in the Islands of St. Thomas in the West Indies
(Nazareth: Senseman & Co., 1838), 38; Governor Bagge’s report, 2 January 1795, SBS 1 B:2, vol.
2, SNA; Wernberg to SWIC, 25 May 1797, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 169, SNA; Governor af
Trolle’s report 23 April 1800, SBS 1B:2, SNA.
134 Nissen, Reminiscences, 38, 194–98; Julius C. Scott, ”Crisscrossing Empires: Ships, Sailors,
and Resistance in the Lesser Antilles in the Eighteenth Century,” in The Lesser Antilles in the
Age of European Expansion, ed. Robert L. Paquette and Stanley Engerman (Gainesville:
University Press of Florida, 1996), 128–43.
125
proposed that neutrals were to be permitted to carry enemy goods to
France, albeit under British-issued licenses, which would provide a new
income for the British treasury as well as alleviate the complications arising
from the many cases pending in prize courts in the colonies. The licensing
scheme, however, was only put into action in the later stages of the French
wars, and was instituted in a number of Orders-in-Council in 1807. This
rerouting of neutral trade was combined with other elements of economic
warfare, such as the mass smuggling of British goods into French domains.
Still, the combined efforts of British naval vessels and privateers led to the
seizure of thousands of vessels. The period between the beginning of 1807
and the middle of 1808 was coincidentally the busiest for the Caribbean
Prize Courts during the entire Napoleonic War. The activities of French
privateers in Caribbean waters were continuous during the war, only
ceasing completely after the British occupations of Guadeloupe and
Martinique in 1810. In 1794–98, the prize court of Guadeloupe alone had
adjudicated the condemnation of 890 seized vessels. The high tide of
seizures was largely a result of a post-revolution conflict between the
United States and the French Republic, which escalated into the so-called
Quasi-War (1798–1800). The frenzied pace of seizures continued towards
the close of the century, but was significantly tempered after the
resolution of the undeclared state of war between the United States and
France. The departure of Victor Hugues from Guadeloupe in 1799 after he
had fallen out of favor with the French Directory was also a factor in this
decrease.135
An illustrative case of both the kind of disguised foreign shipping that
was the norm of wartime Gustavia as well as the belligerents’ view of it is

135 4 Geo. III, c 15 f.46; Craton, “Vice Admiralty Courts,” 126–127, 324, 338; Neff, Rights and
Duties, 77–75, 79–80; Stephen Neff, “Britain and the Neutrals in the French Revolutionary
Wars: The Debate over Reprisals and Third Parties,” in Trade and War: The Neutrality of
Commerce in the Inter-State System, ed. Koen Stapelbroek (Helsinki: Helsinki Collegium for
Advanced Studies 2011), 229–50; It was James Stephen who reluctantly proposed the British
licensing scheme. See Stephen, War in Disguise, 169–173; Rodigneaux, La guerre de course, 342,
344, 346. See also Greg H. Williams, The French Assault on American shipping, 1793–1813 : A
History and Comprehensive Record of Merchant Marine Losses (Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland,
2009), 7–36.
126
shown clearly in the process of the St. Barthélemy-registered and Swedishflagged schooner Malmö in 1809. Malmö was seized while sailing a two miles
off the western shore of Grande-Terre, Guadeloupe by the British
privateer Spitfire and brought into Antigua for adjudication. The small
schooner with a crew of 4 Americans, now naturalized Swedes, was
reportedly on a round trip from St. Barthélemy to Marie Galante, and was
carrying a cargo of “American goods”. Besides sailing outside a French
colony, there were many other factors which made the crew of the British
privateer suspicious. For instance, the crew had an American flag onboard,
allegedly to “hoist in case they should have been spoken to by a French
privateer.” On the way to Antigua, the crew of the Malmö seized their
captors and threw their arms overboard, but “finding that the vessel could
not be retaken unless the Captors were killed,” the crew relented from any
further resistance. The evidence was already quite unfavorable for the crew
members, but the Vice Admiralty Court of Antigua seized upon the
nationality on the crew members and owner as the definitive proof of foul
play. The deck hand Matthew Aken testified as having a wife and family in
Boston, but nevertheless considered himself a Swedish subject. The guilty
verdict was brought home with reference to the owner, Emanuel Rey,
because he was a Frenchman by birth.136
As far as British wartime doctrines were concerned, the verdict was
correct. There was little that was frivolous in the accusations against the
Malmö and its owner. Emanuel Rey was a Frenchman who had resided in
New York before he settled and applied for Swedish naturalization in St.
Barthélemy in February 1809, only few months before the Malmö was
seized. The schooner itself had also undergone a recent naturalization
process, and was previously named the Trial under American colors, built
in Cape Ann, Massachusetts. The Antigua court records suggest that its
master Thomas Jones was its real owner, having sold it fictitiously to Rey
after the latter had acquired Swedish burgher documents in Gustavia, to
facilitate a quick neutralization of the vessel. It appears that Rey and his

136 Copy of the Minutes and interrogatories of the Antigua Vice Admiralty Court, 28 March,
29 March, and 19 April 1809, AM 275 bis, FSB, ANOM.
127
compatriots did not make any serious attempt at redress, but possibly just
bought the schooner back after it was condemned. As late as March of 1815
is the final registration of a ship named Malmö, this time again by Rey,
albeit with an expanded and ethnically more diverse crew. This also
illustrates the continuity and tenacity of this kind of trade in the face of
many challenges.137

One of the most curious Swedish cases that were brought before the
Vice Admiralty court of Jamaica was the ship Medborgaren, of 200 tons.
The ship had been sighted as early as July of 1797 by a SWIC agent in
Gustavia, who reported that the ship had anchored in the port under the
command of a captain A.N. Schale. It had reportedly sailed out from
Gothenburg where it had been sent out by the owner, L.E. Yvon. It carried
a shipment of wines and assorted dry goods addressed to a local Swedish
merchant house in Gustavia, and was apparently headed back towards
Europe, to Bordeaux, with a return cargo of coffee and sugar.138 No record
is available on the ship’s departure from the island, but she turns up in Vice
Admiralty minutes the next year, as she was captured off Jacmel on the 2nd
of December 1798 by the H.M.S. Diligence, and sent into Jamaica for
adjudication. The ship was now helmed by a man named Eyserman, and it
was reported at this instance that the ship had set out from Gothenburg to
the United States by way of St. Barthélemy, but after leaving the Swedish
colony, while driven off course by bad weather, she was taken by a French
privateer, carried into Santo Domingo and condemned in the Spanish
Admiralty Court. Repurchased by the supercargo, she was impressed by
the Spanish authorities and sent to Jacmel with “154 slaves and 29
passengers.” It was on this leg of the journey that she fell in with the British
naval ship. On the 28th of February 1799 the vessel was acquitted, but the
cargo of African captives was decreed as British recaptures. The ship’s
misfortunes were, however, far from over. After leaving Jamaica without a
cargo, she was seized by another British ship, the H.M.S. Abergavenny, on

137 Notarial record of Emanuel Rey’s naturalization, February 1809, CP 75, FSB, ANOM;
Muster roll of the ship Malmö, 9 March 1815, AM 265, FSB, ANOM.
138 Dreyer to SWIC, 4 July 1797, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 169, SNA.
128
the 21st of May 1799. This time, the same Vice Admiralty court uncovered
frauds in the alleged ownership. The original owner were said to have been
not L.E. Yvon of Gothenburg, but Öström Procter & Co. of St.
Barthélemy. Somewhere down the line, she had been sold to a member of
the Danish Haasum family of St.Thomas. Ultimately, then, the ship was
condemned as French property on June 24, 1799, being said not to have
been on her way to St. Barthélemy but to Hispaniola.
139
The case is important in the wider context of neutral free port trade of
this time, as it illustrates just how deceptive the records surrounding it can
be. As there were exceedingly few Swedish ships arriving from the Baltic
to St. Barthélemy, never mind a ship this size or with such an uncommon
name, there is good reason to suggest that the ship Medborgaren reported
by the SWIC agent and the ship subsequently seized by British naval
cruisers were one and the same. At the very least, the ship documents
scrutinized by the Vice Admiralty court of Jamaica probably had the same
origins as the ones possessed by the Medborgaren sighted at Gustavia in

One reasonable conclusion is that the ship was engaged in some form
of tramp shipping until landing in Gustavia, at which point she was sold or
passed on to actors in need of genuine Swedish ship’s documents, for
whatever convoluted purpose. In any case, one is still at a loss as to arrive
at any certain conclusions regarding the exact plans and ambitions of this
particular expedition, as the only surviving documentation display such an
array of smoke-and-mirrors-tactics from her owner(s) and crew to distort
the truth behind her voyages.140

139 Craton, ” Vice Admiralty Courts,” 293–295.
140 Additional information on Medborgaren in Dreyer to SWIC, 4 July 1797; Note that this
vessel has not been recorded as a Swedish slave ship in the Wilson dataset on the Swedish
slave trade (2015). The complete list of the dataset is shown in Appendix IX.
129
The Relative Benefits of Neutrality and Free Trade
As it was not a European power of the first rank, it is not surprising Sweden
had its colonial sovereignty compromised two times during the
Napoleonic Wars. The first occupation occurred in 1801–02 by the British
and again in 1807 by the French. As shown in the previous chapter, St.
Barthélemy sometimes assumed a role of political satellite to neighboring
colonies, especially the French for long periods of time, but as a free port,
it was readily exploitable for any actor with similar ambitions.
In a very early stage, Swedish government officials quickly recognized
that it would be too costly and unrealistic to establish any attempt at a
credible external defense. Defense of the harbor and road of Gustavia as
well as a small military garrison for internal policing was seen as sufficient.
The garrison tasked with duties of defense and police could number as
much as 50 soldiers, but was generally much less than that. Maintaining a
functioning military force was a constant problem. Concerns with health
and discipline were commonplace, and the rate of mortality among regular
troops was very high. Soldiers lost their lives to tropical diseases, dangerous
manual labor, as well as cheap rum. There was only one soldier who ever
died in combat. He perished when he fell in with ambushing French forces
during the night of the Guadeloupe expedition in 1807, described further
below. In the early years of the colony, a guard-ship was also on duty to
patrol the road and perform inspection duties on visiting ships. This was
quickly found to be too costly to maintain, and the ship was left to rot to
pieces in the harbor when its hull became prey to the wasting effects of the
Caribbean Sea. Gustavia was the only fortified enclave on the island,
cornered by three batteries of cannon, two posted at the sides of the
mouth of La Carénage, and one guarding the southward cliffs of Gustavia.
There was at times a battery on the north coast of the island, in Anse de
Saint Jean, but it could rarely be manned effectively for long periods of
time. Surveillance and lookouts could seldom patrol the mountainous and
convoluted terrain in order to have sight in all directions. This is exactly
why a small French force could land in a cove east of Gustavia in the night
130
in November 1807 and overwhelm the small Swedish forces after a short
skirmish. Six years prior the islanders had the opportunity not to engage in
hostilities in the face of overwhelming military superiority. When a small
British fleet appeared on the southern anchored outside of Gustavia in
March 1801, an ad hoc defense council unanimously opted for surrender.
The British force was allowed to embark and occupy the colony without
any resistance.141
While this pragmatic approach to defense on a small remote island was
the only one that was found realistic, there were still concerns raised over
sovereign duties of protection. The most pressing point was the protection
of shipping by convoys or other means. The question of convoying quickly
became a linchpin in matters of taxation. In the spirit of the free port idea,
a poll tax was not exacted from the settlers and newly naturalized Swedish
subjects in the earliest days of colonization. When the council decided to
gradually levy new taxes towards the close of the 18
th century, they found
it impossible to justify, as local settlers accurately pointed out that the
Swedish administration could not guarantee the safety of regional shipping
leaving or entering the harbor. Discussions borne out between
representatives of local merchants and the administration resulted in a
request for a Swedish man-of-war as a convoy ship. The company directors,
who handled the request in Stockholm, exacted the cutter brig Huzaren to
be dispatched to St. Barthélemy from its post in the Mediterranean. The
idea was that it would function as an itinerant convoy ship for Swedish
ships in the region, and that local merchants would be levied small
increases in port charges in order to finance its operations. The crux of the
matter that made the expedition irrelevant, however, was that the
commander of the Huzaren had received some very exact instructions not
to convoy any other than Swedish ships proper that were homebound to
Swedish ports. Naturally, the merchants were disinclined to pay for the
protection of the few yearly Swedish West India Company and private

141 Ankarheim’s report, 21 March & 18 August 1801, and Trigge to Ankarheim, 20 March 1801,
SBS 1C, SNA; Ankarheim to von Fersen, 30 March 1801, Hans Axel von Fersens samling, vol.
12, Stafsundsarkivet, SNA; SWIC Minutes, 25 April 1801.
131
Swedish ships returning to the Baltic, rather than for the protection of
their own property. The ship stayed in the colony for almost a year before
returning to its initial post. A replacement was planned, but the project
finally was finally abandoned after the British occupation in 1801.142
This concluded the attempts of maritime protection in the colony, and
consequently also the matter of direct taxation. There were certainly
inklings of projects and attempts to resurrect the old question but they
were ultimately unsuccessful. The settlers and naturalized burghers of St.
Barthélemy were as a result taxed very lightly. The only necessary duties
came in the form of payment for different bureaucratic services and
documents.143
Already vulnerable to external attack, colonies like St. Barthélemy with
an open colonization policy received a substantial number of foreign
Europeans for whom the normative cultural values of the metropole
mattered very little, and who could challenge the authority of the Swedish
administrative presence. Uprooted colonial residents who had fled in the
wake of the Revolution were often seen as a source of instability in the
small free port colony when they settled there. It was widely rumored that
the Guadeloupe expedition to St. Barthélemy in 1807 was aided by local
French expatriates. The object of the French attack was the property of a
recently settled American merchant, William Israel, whose main business,
trading with revolutionary Saint-Domingue, was a serious enough affront
to the French interests as to mount an attack on the Swedish colony.
Runnels, a Dutch settler from St. Eustatius, placed the incident in a wider
context when relating it to a Swedish official:

142 Minutes of the island council and committee of commercial interests, 9 July 1799, PJ 143,
FSB, ANOM; Minutes of the SWIC, 13 December 1798, 26 January, 23 April, 10 July, 29 July,
27 November 1799, 13 March, 10 April, 24 July 1800; vol. 156, Handel och sjöfart, SNA; af
Trolle’s report, 23 April 1800, SBS 1 B:2, SNA; Cf. also Per Tingbrand, Med svenska örlogsmän
till S:t Barthélemy, 1785–1994 (Marinlitteraturföreningen: Stockholm, 1997), 58–59.
143 “His Majesty’s Gracious Taxation Act”, 26 March 1804, The Report of Saint Bartholomew,
26 September 1804; Cf. Minutes of the SWIC, 2 September 1803, appendix A, vol. 157,
Handel och sjöfart, SNA.
132
[—] if we have been able to wean ourselves of Native prejudices, or to
learn in Theory even, to look up to Sweden as a Mother Country, and to
feel that we are Essentially incorporated with that Nation, and hold a
common Interest with her, will be best determined by an Examination
of the occasions which have called for display of those sentiments, and
especially that one which occurred in November 1807. Driven here,
some by accident but more by desire of subsistence and gain; we have
not yet thrown off our early local prepossessions, or acquired new stateaffections: nor can we in sincerity claim credit for more real sympathy
in your concerns or the great Interests of the Nation, than if you were
detached from this planet altogether.144
In the face of internal stability and security, then, colonial magistrates
often toed a fine line. As the present garrison was not sufficient for internal
defense, a solution was proposed in the formation of a colonial militia,
consisting of all free, able-bodied men of sufficient age. Many attempts
were made at the creation of this form of auxiliary military force to
supplement the corps of Swedish soldiers. The task was not easy, as settlers
with more means were unlikely to find the time away from work and daily
business to do this type of service. Another cause for consternation was
that many white settlers positively resented falling into line with free
blacks, as if they were their peers. It is important not to understate this
point, and it is the reason why there were different companies of white and
black militiamen, however always commanded by a white officer.145
The formation and dismemberment of different militias ensued several
times during the Napoleonic Wars, but the last and most significant
occurred after the short French invasion in 1807, when an enthusiastic
effort to create and auxiliary defense was mounted by the Swedish judge

144 Runnels to Skogman, 31 March 1812, SBS 2, SNA.
145 Bergstedt to Ankarheim, 8 September 1809, SBS 1 C, SNA; See also the Minutes of St.
Thomas Burgher Council, 13 March 1801, vol. 705, St. Thomas borgerråd;
Forhandlingsprotokoller 1783 – 1855, Vestindisk lokalarkiv, 17.1.1–2, DNA, where the Danish
burghers did not mount any resistance to the British occupation in part because they were
“not yet reconcil’d to the Idea of being in an unprecedented manner posted in a Garison
where the duty allotted them was of all others, the most painfull to their feelings and
dishonourable to their Public situation.”
133
Anders Bergstedt. If earlier militia projects had been met with popular
discontent and protest, this one presented the Swedish administration
with perhaps a more serious threat to colonial sovereignty than either of
the foreign invasion during the present decade. In September 1810,
members of the white militia companies took to the streets of Gustavia
and mutinied, arrested judge Bergstedt, put the Governor in house arrest,
and put the remaining number of Swedish officers, fiscals, and magistrates
under lock and key. After the initial unrest had settled, the mutineers,
represented by some of the wealthiest merchants on the island, simply
demanded the expulsion of judge Bergstedt, himself commander of the
militia. They succeeded in their demands, and also managed to have
another Swedish official and militia officer, Samuel Fahlberg, deported.
Fahlberg was accused of having given the order to fire upon the mutineers
from one of the town’s batteries. The Swedish soldier given the order was
according to popular belief to have refused to follow the command, and
became subject of public adulation afterwards.146
The underlying conditions for this individual rebellion was not merely
a protest against the much reviled auxiliary military service. There were
long-standing grievances between the local merchant elite and the Swedish
magistrates, particularly the judge and his de facto rule over colonial life.
There were several persons who felt they had been wronged by the judge
in juridical matters and in individual cases pending before the court. There
were many who voiced complaints when, in 1805, a committee of
commercial interests had been disbanded. The merchants comprising this
committee had hoped to have a real say in colonial affairs, but the
formation of the committee had served the Swedish administration mostly
as a forum for communicating with the population at large. Among leading
colonial residents, there was a distinct distrust against the island council.

146 See for instance a petition by St. Barthélemy burghers against Bergstedt and Fahlberg, 10
November 1810, SBS 1C, SNA; For accounts of the mutiny see Governor Ankarheim’s report
to the island council, 22 September 1810 and Governor Ankarheim’s report, 24 September
1810, SBS 1C, SNA; See also Bagge to af Wetterstedt, 25 January 1811, SBS 3, SNA. There are
also a few volumes collected by Lamborn that are entirely devoted to sources concerning
mutiny. See Lamborn collection, vols. 127–29, SNA.
134
After the demise of the company and its officials, it was not thought that
the island council fared any better at promoting matters of public good.
The often staunch response of officials to popular criticism led to an
atmosphere of antagonism. As an example, popular sentiment was
sometimes ridiculed in the island newspaper. The publication of the
newspaper was closely tied to the council, especially judge Bergstedt, who
had introduced it to the colony in 1804. According to a short satirical text
in an 1806 issue, the so-called Street Corner Club of Gustavia was having
one of its regular discussions, where one of the members, “Mr. Curilurio,”
asked: “Why Gentlemen how is this? Police and Oeconomy left in the
hands of three persons. How will that succeed? I look upon the Country as
ruined, and it will be ruined, and shall be ruined as sure as – as – as my name
is – as – Curilurio.”147
It is not significant here to recreate the specific course of events. It is
only important to note the ease of success that the mutineers had in their
ambitions. When the offending Swedish magistrates had been removed,
tranquility and stability seemed to return as quickly as the mutiny had been
mounted. The mutineers addressed a letter to the Swedish Crown in which
they apologetically explained their actions, and reaffirmed their oaths of
allegiance to Sweden with an affectionate language very contrary to the
apparent indifference towards the motherland that Runnels had
described. The mutineers themselves were never tried in court or
questioned by royal inquiries afterwards. Bergstedt returned to live a life
of prolonged poverty in Sweden, followed nearly to the end of his life by a
redress of a judicial proceeding that he started in St. Barthélemy in 1797
against a merchant house, a case in which he was found to have gravely
misconducted. Fahlberg was involved in later complications following his
own deportation which resulted in a verdict of high treason. He died in
exile on St. Eustatius in November 1834 before he could receive news of
his pardon, issued in Sweden a few months earlier. The remainder of the

147 For information about the colonial newspaper The Report of Saint Bartholomew and its first
publication, see especially SWIC Minutes, 26 March 1804, vol. 157, Handel och sjöfart, SNA;
The quote is from The Report of Saint Bartholomew, 29 December 1806.
135
Swedish administration acquiesced to what had passed, and the work of
the council and garrison resumed shortly afterwards. Only in 1815 was the
garrison relieved by reinforcements, and Swedish magistrates never again
put arms in the hands of the colony’s inhabitants.148
The incident also puts light on a difficult issue in Swedish colonial
administration. Colonial officials and magistrates were not likely to offer
each other support in situations like these, let alone openly condemn
actions such as those made in the mutiny of 1810. The Swedish
administrative history of St. Barthélemy is marred by acrimony, infighting,
squabbling over details of hierarchy, internal political struggles, as well as
ambitious competition for titles and employment. There were certainly
signs of the kind of “imperial boredom,” experienced by colonial officials,
often men with a military background, in the face of the everyday tedium
of colonial bureaucracy. When Governors were not tired of uninteresting
work, they were tired of unruly subordinates and the troublemakers and
radicals among the colony’s population. Subsequently, Governors’ reports
strikingly often were endless jeremiads, punctuated by offers of
resignation and pleas for transfers to other posts.149
It has been argued that the Swedish officials were torn into different
factions as they were caught up in the European power struggle that had
spilled into the colonies, either landing them with pro-French or proBritish attitudes and affinities. Whereas this explanation certainly has its
merits in some contexts, it is nevertheless an oversimplification of a
complex matter. Judge Norderling for example complained of a kind of
“jealousy between military and civil men” when he explained the
continuous rifts between himself and the men who served as Governor of
the colony. This was an obvious reference to social distinctions, as military
officers were most often members of the nobility. But there was a power

148 Commissaries for the inhabitants of the town of Gustavia, to Charles XIII, dated 12
September 1811, 1811:14:122, Bernadotteska familjearkivet; I am indebted to Ale Pålsson for
sources concerning the mutiny.
149 Jeffrey Auerbach, ”Imperial Boredom,” Common Knowledge 11, no. 2 (2005): 283–305; For a
typical plea of resignation as well as general lament, see af Trolle’s report, 26 June 1800, SBS
1B:2, SNA.
136
struggle between the Governor and the judge inherent in the very
foundation of Swedish colonial law. The island council, the highest
executive power in the colony, could have various different compositions
depending on the matter at hand during a given session. Often the judge
rather than the Governor would preside over the most important cases and
discussions. Moreover, the judge acted as first notary public as well as
prosecutor, which vested the office with significant practical power
relative to the Governor, whose duties in practice were often ceremonial
and bureaucratic. When Governor Ankarheim arrived at his post early in
1801, he complained that he felt that the colonial hierarchy was lopsided,
and that he received more rather than gave orders to the presiding judge.150
Whatever effect the power structure and hierarchical implications of
Swedish colonial rule, it is also clear that some of the debilitating quarrels
had their source in personal idiosyncracy. There were no more bizarre
examples of high-handedness and arbitrary justice than under the short
period of Governor Stackelberg, who stunted the work of the Swedish
administration by his constant bickering with judge Bergius. After a period
of several incidents where the Governor had harangued him both in public
office and in person, Bergius left for Sweden via a purported sojourn in the
United States and never returned. Stackelberg also had a number of other
running enmities, such as one with the Swedish doctor, whom he had jailed
for a short stint after losing to him in a game of cards. Stackelberg was also
accused of embezzling large funds from the colonial chest, containing all
the proceeds from tariffs and taxations due to the crown.151
What today would be considered as widespread corruption was a mere
collection of symptoms of an administrative system that differed
significantly from the ideal. Local colonial authorities drew a fixed salary
which was supposed to make them well-off and therefore not dependent

150 Norderling to SWIC, 12 November 1796, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 169, SNA; Ankarheim
to von Fersen, 30 March 1801, Hans Axel von Fersens samling, vol. 12, Stafsundsarkivet, SNA;
Ankarheim to Gyllenborg, 20 October 1801, Fredrik Gyllenborgs brevsamling, UUB.
151 Bergius to af Wetterstedt, 14 January 1816, SBS 4A, SNA; af Wetterstedt to Stackelberg,
19 April 1817, C 258, FSB, ANOM; of special interest is also Stackelberg’s official and personal
financial reports 1812–16, in SBS 26A, SNA; Tingbrand, Who was who, 526–27.
137
on emoluments and other incomes. Nothing was however farther from the
truth. The salaries were calculated in the amount of rixdollars that was the
norm for personnel in public office, but they did not account for the
difference in cost of living between Sweden and the Caribbean region. The
governors, judges, agents and notaries could not be men of property based
on their fixed income alone. Emoluments for official documents,
translations, and the like became essential additional incomes for the
officials vested with the power to exact such payments. It is not suggested
here that official greed or the ambition for personal enrichment were the
prime driving forces of corruption. Rather, high costs of living often
necessitated a certain degree of conformity with the established praxis of
laissez-faire colonial governance usual in many Caribbean colonies. The
Governor, for instance, had to maintain a certain esteem for the Swedish
crown in matters of official representation, largely footed by his own
personal capital.152
Popular discontent also had its source in the often confined
possibilities of free trade in the war-torn West Indies. Operating as a
neutral Swedish burgher in a free port did not in itself offer limitless
opportunities for free trade. One key aspect was the limited rights
endowed by registering a Swedish neutral vessel. The registers, or seapasses, as they were called in official documents, were issued for a fixed
period of time, usually six months, during which time the registered vessel
could travel any number of voyages anywhere throughout the Western
Hemisphere as well as the West African coast. European destinations were
however only limited to Swedish ports. This was an immensely important
detail which created problems for local merchants as well as the colonial
magistrates. The limitation was naturally set in place to direct colonial
trade to Sweden as well as to limit the risk of contraband trade to European
ports, which were bound to create diplomatic complications. The
restriction was however subject to a continuous stream of protests, even

152 For a description of living costs, relative purchasing power, and the situation of Swedish
officials in St. Barthélemy, see the apostilles of a letter from Ankarheim to von Fersen, 15 July

138
early on from colonial administrators who felt that the stipulation was
harming the colony economically. Judge Bergstedt pleaded for the
expansion of rights in 1803, and claimed that local merchants always had
recourse for European-bound voyages, but could only in their present
situation pay freights for “Americans, Hamburgers, and Danes” in order to
send their consignments away to Europe. During the charter of the SWIC,
there was however no ambitions in Stockholm to expand the seafaring
rights of local St. Barthélemy merchants.153
This limitation would however, despite numerous protests and
constant lobbying be in place during the whole duration of the French
Wars. This occasioned a steady demand for foreign vessel registrations and
consignments, and conversely lessened the demand for Swedish vessel
registrations. Whereas foreign ship documents and naturalizations were
easily enough obtainable for a proper sum of money, it sometimes
demanded some unscrupulous methods. In 1814 under the close of the War
of 1812, the German merchant Elbers designed to have one of his brigs
seized outside the road of Gustavia by a small British privateer, and had it
condemned in St. Kitts. The vessel was then repurchased as British
property and with a British sea-pass, but still with Elbers remaining as sole
owner. Despite the possibility of similar procedures and the apparent
compliance of both British privateers and colonial official, it was a road
much less traveled because of the high costs involved. For instance, the
charade that Elbers construed in concert with the British cost him a
prohibitive 1,000 Spanish dollars in all.154
Abraham Runnels, a former St. Eustatius resident often consulted in
commercial matters by the council and the Swedish government, expanded
on the multiple problems facing local merchants in a letter, and asserted
that:

153 Anders Bergstedt, undated P.M., SWIC Minutes, 2 September 1803, Handel och sjöfart,
vol. 157, SNA; The negative response from the SWIC directors to Bergstedt regarding seapasses in SWIC Minutes, 26 March 1804, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 157, SNA; Ordinance in order
to prevent foreign Vessels from sailing under the Swedish flag. Given Gustavia 25 May 1804. In The
Report of Saint Bartholomew, 28 May 1804.
154 Bergius to af Wetterstedt, 13 October 1814, SBS 4A, SNA.
139
[…] three essential links in the chain is wanting. Namely the confidence
of the Merchants in Sweden, the facilities of Markets for colonial
produce within her Territories and the faculty of navigating with the
vessels of this colony in the European Seas & Ports. If the comparison
[of St. Barthélemy with St. Eustatius] be rendered complete by
supplying the chain with these three links, we might be unconcerned
about the rivalry of any new free ports (which could grow out of a new
order of things) possessing no greater physical means that we do; but
possibly not so favoured in the matter of jurisprudence.155
This lack of confidence is perhaps best illustrated by the weaning
commercial transatlantic link between Sweden and its West Indian
colony. Since the dissolution of the Swedish West India Company, it had
never amounted to anything substantial. In 1814, when Runnels penned
this letter, it had been at least ten years since any regular traffic had been
seen between metropole and colony. But the lack of communications did
not merely imply a dearth of saleable merchandise from the metropole, it
also brought with it the consequent problem of lacking credit.
Accustomed to the readily available financial and commercial institutions
in Amsterdam during the heydays of St. Eustatius’ commercial life,
Runnels saw the relationship with Stockholm and Gothenburg as poor
substitutes. Naturalized Swedish merchants in St. Barthélemy were well
advised to direct their loans and investment elsewhere in Europe. There
was simply not much investment in the West Indian trade in Sweden. In
extension, Runnels also saw the lack of markets in Sweden as well as the
restriction in European ports of destination as a particularly hampering
condition. St. Barthélemy vessels were for the most part of the French wars
prohibited to sail to any other European ports than those in Sweden. As
this was seldom worth the effort, European-bound expeditions were rare
in St. Barthélemy.156

155 Runnels to Skogman, 9 June 1814, SBS 3A, SNA.
156 Runnels to Skogman, 9 June 1815, SBS 3A, SNA; These conditions and developments are
detailed in an undated memorial by Governor Ankarheim, probably produced in 1814, in SBS
3A, SNA; See also Norderling’s reports of 15 October & 20 November 1819, SBS 7A, SNA.
140
The most striking effects of the limitations was uncovered in a case of
Swedish passport forgery in 1815. Accusations of forgery had been rife
during the wars, coming both from consuls posted in the United States as
well as embittered Gothenburg merchants whose ships had encountered
false Swedish ships while plying American waters. Despite receiving a
multitude of similar complaints, governors and magistrates of St.
Barthélemy vehemently denied any involvement. But when the sergeant of
the police and marshal of the island council, Peter Löfman, died in
February 1815, the administrators had to admit that forgeries had indeed
been distributed in St. Barthélemy and that the perpetrators had been
hiding in plain sight. Due to suspicions against Löfman, the posthumous
investigation of Löfman’s estate found incriminating documents that
implied that he and other Swedish officials as well as the local island printer
had been manufacturing and selling forged Swedish passports and
documents for a long time. As the involved Swedes had close ties to the
colonial council and its members, they had had access to all the necessary
material for such forgeries, as witnessed by the subsequent discoveries of
seals, stamps, signatures, and other paraphernalia in the suspects’ homes.157
Further inquiries led to the discovery that another former Swedish
fiscal in St. Barthélemy had made several trips to New York with the
documents, and had sold them locally. The documents included all
applicable formalities of Swedish naturalization and shipping registry,
from oaths of allegiance, muster rolls, manifests, clearances as well as the
actual passports. All in all, they at least two principal purposes, either to
impose a false registration of a Swedish vessel, or a simulated entry and
clearance into Gustavia. This fit quite well with the former reports of
forgeries and falsified Swedish vessels recorded on the North American
coast during the wars. There is however no means to estimate how many
forgeries that had been made and sold. The Swedish officials who
unearthed the affair found dozens of readymade documents, and the

157 Council minutes, 27 February & 27 March 1815, PJ 174, ANOM; Speyer to Monroe, 19
November 1812, T230, RG 59, NARA.
141
operation had by all appearances been going on seamlessly for a number of
years.158
The incident highlighted a number of institutional limitations present
in the free port colony. On the one hand was the incentive towards foul
play created by some of the restrictions inherent in the free port trade.
Merchants who did not wish or simply did not have the time to naturalize
themselves as Swedish burghers could by way of these forgeries purchase
neutralizing documents. On the other hand there was the complete lack of
oversight by colonial magistrates in the control of their own bureaucracy.
The matter at once caused a few important changes in the technicalities of
passport issuances, for instance the requirement to specify the port of
destination in passports instead of a simple date of expiry as before.
Another substantial alteration was that all passports were issued with
bonds as a security for the return of the passport.159
Incidentally following these changes, St. Barthélemy vessels were also
finally endowed with the right to depart for all European ports granted the
trade was supported by international treaties. The late grant of this
coveted right was however not received with collective praise in the
colony. Almost as soon as the governor had received the new law from
Stockholm, he wrote a critical response. His main objection was with the
clause that the new passport with stated destinations entailed that vessel
owners had to renew their passports with each individual journey,
something which would unavoidably bring with it higher costs for
shippers. Prior to this alteration, passports were granted for 12 months at
a time. The governor feared that this change might drive merchants and
vessel owners out of colony into nearby free ports with more lax
regulations. Coincidentally, the corruption of colonial magistrates alluded
to previously would nevertheless always ensure a certain flexibility in the
interpretation and enforcement of the rules. Therefore it was possible for
enterprising individuals to bend the rules just enough for the safeguarding

158 Council minutes, 12 May 1815, PJ 174, ANOM; Kantzow to Monroe, 10 January 1814,
M60:1, RG 59, NARA.
159 Proclamation of 14 March 1815, The Report of Saint Bartholomew, 18 March & 25 March 1815.
142
of individual privileges and rights in their business ventures. Governors
and magistrates often acted for what they saw as the greater good of the
colony, even when it meant skirting established laws and practices. Their
independent actions were indeed acutely necessary because of the large
communication gap between motherland and colony, and were often
sanctioned afterwards by officials in Stockholm who realized this fact.160
The Colonial Realities of a Neutral Free Port
The nature of the Swedish colonization project, then, led to a weak
military and administrative infrastructure, and the long-term national
interests, embedded in the failed goals and ambitions of the Swedish West
India Company, had to be sacrificed for short-term expedients. What
those entailed were colonial stability and self-sufficiency, as far as it could
be realized within the framework of the free port. In the wake of early
Swedish settlement, a polyglot society of maritime and commercial actors
sprung up. As evidenced by the mutiny of 1810, its settlers could turn
against the Swedish crown representatives. This did not entail, however,
that disobedience and objections against the metropole amounted to fullblown doctrines of insurrection and treason. Grievances were often
particular rather than general, directed personally at salaried functionaries
and officials as well as the monopolies of company charters. Finally, the
limitations of St. Barthélemy’s liberal trade police and Swedish neutrality
led to many instances of extralegal conduct by naturalized Swedish
burghers themselves. The demands of commercial enterprise and
individual avarice during the wars were simply not fulfilled by the mere
presence of neutral free ports. It can be observed that there is much that
holds true in a terse observation made by the Swedish colonial judge

160 Stackelberg’s report, 15 March 1815, SBS 3B, SNA.
143
Bergius in 1819: “A free port is nothing but a marketplace that is rented to
foreign merchants, nothing more.”161

Nevertheless, the free port only suffered a few short periods of
interrupted trade, which is remarkable by the fact of its isolated position
and role as a neutral subterfuge, which was often found offensive to the
military arm of larger colonial empires. Whereas the revolutionary
authorities of Guadeloupe had found in St. Barthélemy a means to extend
the network of its own maritime predatory economy, the course of the war
after the Peace of Amiens pitted the French colony against its former
proxy. This was however less due to international politics than to regional
realities, where the actions of individuals could violate existing power
relationships. In this case also the Swedish free port colony was left to
recommence its daily operations after the offending element had been
removed. To snuff out the Swedish colony permanently was by all
appearances a too costly and unnecessary an effort. Furthermore, its
continued existence, as will be shown in the following chapters, was an
enduring resource for other colonies in the region. It would soon be the
only free port left in the Lesser Antilles.

161 This can also be contrasted with the differing attitudes towards imperial rule in the British
West Indies and the Thirteen Colonies, cf. the discussion in Andrew J. O’Shaughnessy, An
Empire Divided: The American Revolution and the British Caribbean (Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Press, 2000), 238–48; Quote from Bergius, Om Westindien, 123.
144
3 Gustavia in the Atlantic and Regional
Slave Trade
3.1 Slave Trade Connections
Andrew Steinmetz was born on St. Barthélemy in 1816. As an heir of a wealthy
family with roots in St. Eustatius, he left the colony for an education in
London when he was fifteen, and would later become a barrister and author.
One of his publications was the highly declamatory and sentimental A Voice
in Ramah, or, the Lament of the Poor African, an abolitionist poem about the
horrors of the slave trade.
1 In a line in its second canto, he depicts a slave-ship
departing towards the West African coast, destined to brave “Plague and
Famine’s agony.” Steinmetz was building on a long established tradition of
abolitionist prose, but he also drew from his own first-hand accounts of the
debilitating health conditions that so often became the fate of the slaving
crew and its captives during the middle passage. In a note, he mentions a
memory of his as a young boy, as he had seen sailors of a slave-ship repairing
into Gustavia after having disembarked their human cargo in one of the
neighboring French colonies. The vessel had come to the Swedish colony to
refit, and some of her crew had to be treated for a range of diseases. Steinmetz
explained that mariners’ “wan and hideous appearance” had left a deep
impression on him.2

Whereas Steinmetz’s text is a rare eyewitness account of the transatlantic
slave trade from within the Swedish colony, very little has been known about
the slave trade conducted under Swedish flags or through St. Barthélemy.

1
Andrew Steinmetz, A Voice in Ramah; or; Lament of the Poor African, A Fettered Exile, Afar from
his Fatherland. A Poem in Five Cantos (Harvey & Danton, London, 1842), x–xi. Andrew Steinmetz
(1816–1877). His father was John Henry Steinmetz, a merchant of English and German descent,
and his mother was Jane Rose Bernier, of French and African descent. In the preface to the poem,
he describes himself as “a descendant of the hapless [African] race”, v.
2
Steinmetz, A Voice in Ramah, Notes to Canto II, 224–225.
145
Larger treatments of the slave trade with a focus on quantitative assessments
tend not to list Sweden as a slaving nation in their statistics. There are of
course more or less valid reasons behind this omission. Compared to other
states involved in the slave trade, Sweden occupied an inconspicuous share. It
only possessed a fort on the West African coast for a few decades during the
seventeenth century, and it did not possess any colony founded upon a slave
economy until St. Barthélemy in 1784. The merchant communities of Swedish
port towns did not figure prominently in the branch of the slave trade. The
conclusion – or assumption, rather – that seems to follow, is that while there
may be a few odd Swedish slave ships left to find for the diligent researcher in
the extant records, the bulk of the Swedish slave trade was not large enough
to represent a meaningful category in the larger picture of the history of the
transatlantic slave trade.3
Still, a few attempts have been made to survey the extant records on the
Swedish colonialism in the Caribbean, as well as the slave trade. The results
vary from misrepresentation to misunderstanding, exemplified in the case of
the slave trade in the erroneous claim of Ernst Ekman in 1975 that “while some
Swedish subjects may on occasion have participated, this was never legally
done under the Swedish flag.” On the other extreme, there are works like
those of Göran Skytte’s Kungliga svenska slaveriet, published in 1986. While
Skytte’s work in parts is more thoroughly researched than Ekman’s, for
instance, it tends to skewer the picture of Swedish slave trade profiteering
towards a sensational causerie more geared towards reader amusement than a
serious attempt at historical accuracy.4
In this chapter an attempt will be made to address a few pertinent
questions about the Swedish involvement in the slave trade, which will serve
to broadly reconstruct how the slave trade manifested itself in the free port
of Gustavia. I will also try to address questions surrounding the profitability
and legality of the slave trade in the context of neutral Swedish free trade in
the Caribbean. Towards that end, a quantitative assessment of the trade will

3
See for example Pieter Emmer, “Slavery and the Slave Trade of the Minor Atlantic Powers,” in
The Cambridge World History of Slavery, ed. David Eltis and Stanley L. Engerman (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2011), III: 450–75, which despite its inclusive title, focuses primarily
on the Dutch and Danish slave trade.
4
Ernst Ekman, “Sweden, The Slave Trade and Slavery,” Revue française d’histoire d’outre-Mer 62
(1975): 221–31; Göran Skytte, Kungliga svenska slaveriet (Stockholm: Askelin & Hägglund, 1986).
146
also be made, grounded in new archival research as well as the construction of
a database from existing sources as well as compiled catalogues and datasets.
Swedish Ambitions Foreign Participation in the Gustavia Slave Trade
Throughout the organization of the Swedish colonization of St. Barthélemy,
the institution of the slave trade was always regarded as a means to several
ends. An expanded importation of slaves into the new colony was a
precondition for island agriculture, and there were new, lucrative markets in
the West Indies where slaves could be sold. Cuba opened up its importation
of slaves to all nations in 1789 which initiated a renewed interest in the trade.
Furthermore, there was a consistent belief among traders in St. Barthélemy
that the loss of lives among the enslaved in the French colonies during
revolutionary conflicts would lead to an insatiable demand for slaves from the
West African Coast.5
The formal implementation of these various plans naturally befell the
Swedish West India Company, but its shortage of capital and perennial
troubles eventually spelled out its nonparticipation in the trade. There is one
single planned voyage on record. In 1787 the company directors signed a
contract with a Danish captain for an intended journey towards the Guinea
coast, and a suitable cargo for the slave trade was procured. The intended
voyage was however never put in motion, as the Russo-Swedish war of 1788
made the risk of a Russian seizure in the Baltic unacceptable to the directors.
The cargo was instead later sent to St. Barthélemy in 1791 as the company saw
no promise in the “less secure enterprise” of the slave trade.6
There were a handful of individual Swedish merchants that were no
strangers to the slaving business. Richard Söderström, Swedish consul in
Boston since 1784, had dabbled a few times in the slave trade and made small
but, according to himself, handsome profits. He deplored the slave trade as a

5
Röhl & Hansen to the Board of Commerce, 21 June 1791, SBS 1A, SNA; Röhl & Hansen to
SWIC, 14 December 1790, 18 February 1791, 14 March 1791, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 168, SNA.
6
SWIC to Röhl & Hansen, 15 October 1791, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 158, SNA; Röhl & Hansen
to SWIC, 10 April 1793, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 168, SNA; Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 187–

147
“wicked” business, but nevertheless congratulated himself on his successes in
the branch in a letter to an unknown business associate. There were certainly
more Gothenburg merchants such as Söderström who participated in or
financed their own slaving voyages. A known instance is the expedition of the
ship Sweriges Wapen, owned by the merchants Fåhraeus and Laurin. The ship
left Amsterdam in February of 1796 under Swedish colors. The ship left the
trading fort of Elmina for the West Indies the same year with 168 slaves, but
was seized by a British privateer outside of Grenada before the slaves were
disembarked, and would later be condemned as good prize along with its
cargo.7
While the voyage of Sweriges Wapen might be only one of many overlooked
instances of Swedish slave trade, the paucity of Swedish slave ships in the
statistics and in the records is naturally due to the fact that direct Swedish
participation in the transatlantic slave trade was marginal. The new Swedish
colony would however give rise to a certain degree of raised activity in the
traffic of African slaves perpetrated by Swedish actors. The Stockholm
merchants Röhl and Hansen, who had been SWIC’s local agents during the
early years of the colony, would become the most ambitious Swedish slave
traders in the colony. Beginning in 1791, they regularly engaged the board of
directors into partnering in prospective slave trade ventures. Röhl and
Hansen specifically pointed towards the revolutionary unrest in Martinique
and other French colonies as a rare opportunity to seize upon. In the wake of
the disturbances, thousands of enslaved Africans had been slaughtered, and
while the French authorities were seemingly reclaiming the prior stability in
their colonies, Röhl and Hansen suggested that importing new slave
replacements into the French colonies would be especially well timed. They
also anticipated the consequences of a possible British abolition of the trade,
which in their mind could only favor future Swedish projects.8
While awaiting a response from the board, they proceeded with plans of
an expedition of their own. They purchased a ship of 200 tons in St. Eustatius,

7
Söderström to unknown, 8 August 1784, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 9, SNA; Hildebrand, Den
svenska kolonin, 244–45; Anne Aghard, Brink – Den svenske slavkaptenen (Stockholm: Atlantis, 2012).
The voyage of Sweriges Wapen is not recorded in TAST.
8
Röhl and Hansen to the board of directors, 18 February & 14 March 1791, Handel och sjöfart,
vol. 168, SNA.
148
the Zombie, and brought it to St. Barthélemy where it was rebuilt and refitted
for the requirements of the slave trade. A crew of 14 was also recruited,
commanded by an experienced English captain. They planned for the vessel
to sail for the coast of Guinea, the Gabon River as well as Cape Lopez before
a return voyage. They calculated a minimum requirement of 150 slaves to turn
a sound profit. Despite frequent lobbying in their regular correspondence
with the company, the board of directors positively declined any participation
in the project, which Röhl and Hansen acknowledged in an April letter in
1793.9
By that time, the Zombie had long since departed for the coast in the
autumn of 1792. The expedition would turn out a disaster for everyone
involved. The ship lingered on the African coast for well over two years,
during which time ship and crew endured storms, weathered mutinies and
African resistance, until it was finally driven ashore in the vicinity of Cape
Coast Castle. The ship’s remaining cargo of 100 “bad conditioned slaves” and
some ivory was reportedly seized and sold by the British.10
Despite its outcome, the Zombie expedition became the starting point of a
long career in slave trading for both partners in the firm. After the Swedish
West India Company decided to sever its ties with Röhl and Hansen in 1795,
Röhl travelled to Stockholm and never returned to the colony. Hansen stayed
on the island as head of the firm, while Röhl operated as a factor in
Stockholm, where he would occasionally provide the firm’s ships with
Algerian passports and additional documents needed for longer and more
ambitious voyages. They were in all likelihood the only business house on St.
Barthélemy capable of doing so. Their successor as agent for the Swedish
West India Company, Gustaf Wernberg, became an associate of Röhl &
Hansen in 1795 after having had his own disagreements with the company.
Gustaf Wernberg had also caught wind of the lucrative prospects of the slave

9
The Zombie recorded in TAST, no. 98852, also regularly transcribed as Zumbi, Zumbie or Lumbie;
Muster roll of the Zombie, 30 July 1792, access no. 1.05.13.01, inv. no. 141, fo. 468r, NAN. I am
indebted to Han Jordaan for this information; Certificate of carpenter Thomas Grennles, 15 July
1794, 2L, vol. 197, ADG; Röhl and Hansen to the board of directors, 23 July & 11 August 1792, 10
April 1793, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 168, SNA; Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 222–23; Weiss, den
atlantiska slavhandeln, 59.
10 19 May 1807, T70/1584; Dalziel to the Committee, 3 April 1807, T70/1586, TNA.
149
trade. According to a manifest issued in January 1797, he had dispatched the
schooner Anna Maria to Cuba with 64 “Guinea Negroes”.11
Hansen and Wernberg were joint owners of the brig Stockholm, which had
made an earlier trip to Cuba in 1795 with a smaller cargo of 45 African captives.
Its captain was a Gustavia resident named Ferdinand Deurer, the same person
which would helm Wernberg’s Anna Maria as supercargo in 1797. The
Stockholm also made an expedition to the coast of Guinea in 1798. It nearly
met a similar fate as the Zombie, as an onboard epidemic deprived the crew of
both captain and supercargo for its homeward journey. It however safely
reached St. Barthélemy with 57 African captives in 1799. Wernberg himself
perished in Dover during a journey from the West Indies in 1799, in all
likelihood from some form of illness. Whether he accompanied the
aforementioned voyage is unknown.12
The Stockholm was one of several ships mentioned in an administrative
controversy surrounding the issuance of Swedish passports in St. Barthélemy.
The issue concerned the right of the island council to convey ship documents
to Swedish vessels above 20 lasts. The company and its agents accused the
council of handing around passports with a liberal hand towards the close of
the century. The exasperated judge faced the accusations with the rebuttal
that the issuance of the passport to Stockholm a couple of years prior had been
just as blatant a violation of this rule as the ones now brought to light. In that
case however, not a single company agent or clerk had however raised any
objections. The reason that the vessel had been registered in apparent
violation of regulation was that the SWIC director Rejmers had been one of
the consignors of the cargo. The slave trade proposals of Röhl and Hansen
had ostensibly not been lost on Rejmers, as opposed to the other directors.
The matter of the registration was passed, as judge simply concluded that the
captives could hardly have been shipped to Havana in smaller boats.13

11 Manifest 18 January 1797, ADG 2L, vol. 199, this voyage is neither recorded in TAST nor Klein’s
Cuban dataset based on the AGI.
12 The 2 extant voyages of Stockholm recorded in TAST, nos. 28208 and 28209; Approval for
Stockholm’s passport in the minutes of the council, 14 August 1798, PJ 142 and a short account of
its voyage in the minutes of the council, 27 September 1799, PJ 143, FSB, ANOM; ADG 2L, vol.
206; Notice about Wernberg’s death in Inrikes tidningar, 5 November 1799.
13 Norderling to SWIC board of directors, 13 July 1795, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 169; Hildebrand,
Den svenska kolonin, 226–27.
150
While there is little direct evidence that Röhl & Hansen organized further
slaving voyages of their own, it is evident that the firm stayed in the business
for a long time, and possibly through different forms of participation other
than independent organization. In February 1808, the Charleston-registered
U.S. ship Farnham arrived at St. Barthélemy with 319 Africans, consigned to
Röhl & Hansen. The firm also seem to have been consignees and agents for
the Spanish-flagged ship San Francisco de Asis, lying at anchor in Gustavia in
January 1810 loaded with 142 captives and 500 pounds of ivory. The ship
Rebecca without any stated nationality was also tied to the firm, likewise
anchored in Gustavia in December 1810, with 193 slaves. Possibly the Rebecca
is the same Swedish-flagged ship which is recorded as having made two
landings in Havana, one in October 1809 with a cargo of 84, and one in March
1810 with 80. The owner of the Rebecca was a Havana merchant named
Clemente di Ichazo. If it indeed was the same ship, it would strongly suggest
that Ichazo would have consigned several cargoes to Röhl & Hansen during a
prolonged period of time.14
Röhl & Hansen were at any rate capable of handling a limited traffic of
slaves to St. Barthélemy either on their own account or for foreign
correspondents. Hansen himself lived until his death in 1844 in St.
Barthélemy, and owned a sizeable waterfront property in Gustavia, on which
he had built a gaol or “slave-shop” for storing captives until the time of sale or
re-shipment (see Figure 3.1). A building which could have been identical to
this one was known, according to popular tradition, as la maison d’esclaves until
its destruction in the early 20th century. It is evident that captive Africans
languished in storage either onboard ships or in shoreside detainment, as
sundry lists show that “newly arrived African negroes” perished while in

14 The Farnham recorded in TAST, no. 25513; Minutes of the council, 24 February 1808, PJ 154,
FSB, ANOM; Lloyd’s Lists, 26 April 1808; Elizabeth Donnan, Documents Illustrative of the Slave
Trade to America (Washington: Carnegie Institution of Washington, 1930), IV: 525; San Francisco
de Asis is not recorded in TAST; Minutes of the council, 17 January 1810, PJ 160, FSB, ANOM;
Rebecca is not recorded in TAST, but 2 entries are included in Klein’s Cuban dataset based on the
AGI, with Clemente de Ichazo as the stated owner.
151
Figure 3.1 La Maison d’Esclaves
The brick-and-mortar building in the center of the picture, complete with grated doorways, might have been Röhl & Hansen’s
slave house, where they held Africans captive awaiting sale and transshipment. The building, which still stood in the early 1900s,
was called La Maison d’Esclaves by locals. Picture courtesy of Arlette Magras, St. Barthélemy. I am indebted to her as well as Fredrik
Thomasson for the use of it.
152
Gustavia. In 1808 26 African captives died, while 28 died in 1811. These may
well have been slaves belonging to Röhl & Hansen and other town merchants,
and were in port awaiting further transshipment.15
The records further suggest that Röhl & Hansen made a niche for
themselves by smuggling their human cargo into British colonies after the
abolition in 1807. According to informants in Nevis, “A gentleman named
Hanson of St. Bartholomews” was rumored to have supplied them to St. Kitts
for reshipment to other British islands, having at one time “imported there
two hundred and sixty Africans at once, and three hundred at another time,”
according to British informants, as per their account before the justice of the
peace in Nevis, written down in 1815.16
A Swedish traveler visiting the island in 1888 claimed to have then seen
Hansen’s remaining books and letters, among which he found a general
ledger. In it he could find occasional years with a turnover of over 500,000
Spanish dollars, a great deal of which would have been earned through the
slaving business, he maintained. Through his marriage with a rich Statian
heiress of the Benners family, Hansen inherited sugar plantations which also
made him the largest known Swedish owner of slaves. Even if it can be said
with definite certainty that Röhl and Hansen’s business was the most
significant of Swedish ambitions in the slave trade and slavery, its extent and
nature remains inexact.17

An Ambiguous Path to Abolition
While individual Gustavia burghers continued to engage in the slave trade
well into the 19th century, the legal status of the trade on Swedish keels quickly
assumed an ambiguous character. The case of Röhl & Hansen’s Zombie is
illuminating again in this regard. Röhl & Hansen had applied for an Algerian

15 Real estate property of Röhl & Hansen in Matrice Cadastrale Suédoise, Hôtel de la Collectivité
de Saint-Barthélemy; lots no. 84, 85, 87, fo. 11; Aggregate list of deaths in Gustavia 1808–13, SBS
28, SNA.
16 Deposition of Richard Brodbelt and James Stanley Waiter, 15 April 1815, Lamborn-samlingen,
vol. 110, SNA, The original is found in CO 239/2, TNA.
17 Goës, “Minnen,” 156.
153
passport and toll exemptions for the ship from the Swedish Board of
Commerce. The Board turned down the request, and the Zombie was left to
sail to the coast without privileges and protection afforded to other Swedish
ships.
This was not altogether unusual, as the Board infrequently issued passports
and exemptions for foreign-built hulls such as the Zombie. But the most
striking feature of the Board’s response was its explicit statement against the
voyage’s stated destination for “the slave-trade, so detested by all enlightened
nations”. This rejection has been interpreted as a significant turning point in
Swedish perceptions of the slave trade. According to this reasoning, Swedish
government officials had started paying attention to the British debate and
the movement against the slave trade. Additionally, officials reasoned
towards an abolitionist stance with a view to protect the young king, the
largest shareholder in the West India Company, from foreign scrutiny. There
are however other facts to consider in the Zombie rejection, most importantly
the vested interests present in the Board of Commerce. Apart from the
SWIC directors’ prior grievances with Röhl and Hansen as company agents,
they had never taken any favor with the firm’s slaving project, likely in part
because they saw such an independent effort as unwanted competition. Both
the company directors – some of which had seats on the Board of Commerce
– as well as the Stockholm trade society were consulted in the matter of the
Zombie passport with negative answers as a result. Non-shareholders were
engaging in a branch of trade that was viewed as company territory, after all.
Still, the international climate in the question of the slave trade should not
be discounted. Gustav III had indeed been approached by the British
Committee for the Abolition of the Slave Trade on the matters of slavery and
the slave trade as early as 1790. In a letter to the Swedish king, the committee
entreated Sweden to take the lead in abolishing the slave trade, to which
Gustav responded with his belief that no Swedish subject had embarked in
this branch of trade, and that he would “do all he could” to keep it so. A
peculiar argument developed in the Swedish diplomacy on abolition, namely
that the slave trade had never been permitted to Swedish subjects. Swedish
attitudes towards slavery and the slave trade is however a separate subject that
warrants further research. What is important here is that the slave trade
through St. Barthélemy continued with varied forms of domestic support – or
154
non-intervention, at the very least – until the end of the Napoleonic Wars. It
would take a decade and a half more until Sweden explicitly forbid its practice
with effective laws.18
Swedish slave-ships instead steadily ran into limitations set by other
national legislatures. This was the case with the merchant house of
Vaucrosson & Son of St. Barthélemy, which financed at least two slaving
expeditions, in 1797 and 1798. Their career in the slave trade was possibly cut
short by legal exigencies in the United States. They sailed their Swedishflagged brigantine La Neutralité under the command of Daniel Campbell to
New York in 1796. While in port, the brigantine was refitted for the
particular needs of the slave trade. The ship’s reconstruction attracted the
attention of a few local Quaker abolitionists, who in March of 1797 decided
to notify the New York customs collectors about the matter. The ship’s
captain was promptly apprehended by port authorities. The brigantine fell
under a section of the late Slave Trade Act of 22 April 1794, which prohibited
foreign ships from equipping or loading a cargo intended for the slave trade
on U.S. soil. The ship was cleared from port, but only after the captain signed
a 10,000$ bond declaring that the ship would not take part in the slave
trade.19
After the rebuilt Neutrality had returned to St. Barthélemy in late April,
the Vaucrossons and the Governor of St. Barthélemy both tried their hand at
getting the bond revoked. The Vaucrossons attempted to deny the suspicions
altogether, and claimed that while the ship was indeed headed for Africa, it
was intended for a purchase of ivory, not the slave trade. The Vaucrossons
even sent one of their agents to New York to make inquiries and demand
redress, but without any success.20

18 Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 224–25; The undated letter of the Committee to Gustav III,
signed by Granville Sharp, in F420, XI, UUB, also printed in Appendix to the New Jerusalem
Magazine, 1791, 294–96; Gustav III’s reply summarized in Thomas Clarkson, The History of the
Rise, Progress, and Accomplishment of the Abolition of the Slave-Trade by the British Parliament
(London: Taylor, 1808), I: 565–66.
19 Affidavit of Isaac Hicks, 8 March 1797, Hicks to Rogers, 5 May 1797, RG 59, M664, NARA,
fos. 113, 128–29.
20 Minutes of the St. Barthélemy council, 14 September 1797, PJ 142, FSB, ANOM; Sands to
Wolcott, 11 May 1797, M664, RG 59, NARA.
155
The Swedish Governor adopted a different approach and wrote directly to
president Adams. He appealed to the mutual rights guaranteed by the U.S.-
Swedish Trade Treaty of 1783. He never tried to contest the fact that the ship
was fitting out for the slave trade. Instead, he claimed to admire “the motives,
and the principles of benevolence and humanity” behind the U.S. Slave Trade
Act, but that he was also “astonished and frightened” of the “monstrous
consequences” it laid bare on foreign nations trading with the U.S. He
stressed the mutual benefits inherent in the relationship between neutral
powers generally, and between American merchants and St. Barthélemy
specifically, guaranteed by the late Treaty. He entreated the president to get
the case reviewed by a duly qualified court. The matter transpired quietly
after the U.S. Treasury Department compiled all the pertinent
documentation on the case for review before the U.S. Attorney General. His
opinion was that the Slave Trade Act of 1794 in no way conflicted with the
Treaty of 1783. The bond had been issued according to prevailing practice and
was by no means unlawful. No further complaints were put forward from St.
Barthélemy.21
More serious legal challenges against the Swedish slave trade would
eventually come from the British government, as a consequence of its
ambitions to negotiate the abolition of the slave trade with other nations after

The first result of British ambitions were addressed in a separate article
of the 1813 treaty which formally ceded Guadeloupe to Sweden. The 4th point
of the separate article stated that Sweden was to “forbid and prohibit” the
slave trade into Guadeloupe and “the other possessions in the West Indies of
His Swedish Majesty.” The cession was nevertheless annulled, and
Guadeloupe was returned to France in 1814. Great Britain instead payed an
indemnification to the Swedish crown in lieu of a colony. The existence of the
treaty has erroneously made 1813 the common year of reference for when
Sweden abolished the slave trade. The real consequences of the treaty were

21 af Trolle to John Adams, 18 April 1797, af Trolle’s official protest, 18 April 1797, Lee to Wolcott,
29 April 1797, Wolcott to Söderström, 1 May 1797, M664, RG 59, NARA, fos. 102–12, 121–23;
Instead, the owners simply renamed the ship after which it departed for the West African coast
as intended. In October 1797 a Swedish brigantine by the name of Neptune under the command
of Daniel Campbell arrived in Havana with 98 slaves. Campbell and the Neptune made at least one
more expedition, disembarking a larger cargo of 185 slaves in Havana in February 1798. Whether
the Vaucrossons organized even more voyages to the African coast is unclear.
156
however unclear for a long time afterwards. The Swedish council of St.
Barthélemy encountered many cases of slave trade after 1813 which it had
serious difficulties in treating consistently.22
The impetus behind British diplomacy in the matter did not merely spring
out of mere conjecture. Considering the limited extent of the Swedish slave
trade, The British government was quite well informed. Governor Elliot of St.
Christopher wrote to Whitehall in 1811 that he was concerned over the fact
that “several Individuals in the Island of St. Bartholomew take a considerable
share in the Portuguese and Spanish Slave Trade”. The British High Court of
Admiralty reviewed the case for the Swedish schooner Diana following a
seizure and condemnation by the Vice-Admiralty Court of Sierra Leone a few
years prior to the 1813 treaty. The Sierra Leone court had suspected
Portuguese or American slavers hiding behind Swedish colors, but it also
addressed the question if Sweden sanctioned the slave trade at all. One of the
most important arguments for its condemnation was that the slave trade had
been abolished “by most civilized nations,” and was not “at the present time
legally authorized by any.” The High Court of Admiralty saw fit to reverse the
initial judgment, as it could not sustain the Vice Admiralty court’s blanket
claims. No evidence could simply be found that the Swedish crown had
abolished the slave trade. The court made a passing reference to the late
treaty, which had been signed as late as the 3rd of March 1813, two months
prior to the aforementioned reversal in the High Court of Admiralty.23
The Swedish Governor of St. Barthélemy was also at a loss for answers
when a French slaver put into Gustavia with around 100 African captives in

The ship had first touched at British-occupied Guadeloupe, where the
British governor had turned it away but advised the captain to go to St.
Barthélemy instead. The Swedish Governor, while unsure of how to respond
to the unexpected arrival, still granted the captain the right to either sell his

22 Minutes of the Committee graciously appointed for matters relating to the island of
Guadeloupe, 27 September 1813, Pommerska expeditionen och kolonialdepartementet , AI:3,
SNA.
23 Elliot to Lord Liverpool, 3 September 1811, CO 152/98, TNA; Lamborn-samlingen, vol. 107,
SNA; The Diana, TAST i.d. 7548; John Dodson, Reports of cases argued in the High Court of
Admiralty, commencing with the judgments of the Right Hon. Sir William Scott, Trinity Term, 1811, ed.
George Minot (Boston, 1853), 1: 95–103; The ship was indeed the property of Swedish burghers in
Gustavia, see minutes of the council, 6 & 26 October 1812 PJ 165, FSB, ANOM, 450–55, 530–32.
157
cargo or prepare the slaves for transshipment. Since no explicit declaration of
abolition had come to his notice, he decided not to turn the ship away. The
Governor turned to the Court chancellor for instructions in the event of
future instances, and the chancellor’s response marks an important while
inconclusive turn in the question. The chancellor notified the governor about
the late treaty with Britain and its concerns with the slave trade. While he
confessed that the treaty did not explicitly cover the specifics of the case in
question, he nevertheless strongly urged the governor to take a more cautious
course in the future. He made specific mention of the ongoing debates on the
slave trade during the Congress of Vienna, and the determination behind
British ambitions in the question. Even if the 1813 treaty and its separate
articles could be considered null and void, it was anticipated that this
document had only been a preliminary to future negotiations on the matter.24
In 1819, the Governor of St. Barthélemy was furnished with more precise
instructions regarding the slave trade, where it was importantly stressed that
no admission of foreign slave ships would be tolerated:
Si dans d’autres isles voisines le trafic des Negres se fait encore, malgre les
engagemens contraires, qui ont ete generalement adoptes, le Roi vous
enjoint d’autant plus severe a empecher ce commerce honteux a St.
Barthélemy.25
However, there were at least three principal problems facing Swedish
administrators attempting to prohibit the foreign slave trade through
St.Barthélemy. One was the sale of captured slave cargoes by South American
insurgent privateers and the other was the illegal slave trade practiced by
neighboring colonists, primarily the Frenchmen of Guadeloupe. Both found
their way into St. Barthélemy by exploiting its neutral character and
commercial demands. Illegal sale of slaves were conducted on the islet of

24 Stackelberg to Wetterstedt, 26 December 1814, SBS 3A, SNA; Wetterstedt to Stackelberg, 2
April 1815, C 258, FSB, ANOM, 53–55; Stackelberg to Wetterstedt, 3 July 1815, SBS 3B, SNA; This
was also the case with treaties made with Portugal and Denmark during the same period, see
Jerome Reich, “The Slave Trade at the Congress of Vienna – A Study in English Public Opinion,”
The Journal of Negro History 53, no. 2 (1968): 129–143.
25 Wetterstedt to Berghult, 6 February 1819, C 258, FSB, ANOM. A copy is found in Pommerska
expeditionen och kolonialdepartementet, AI:6, SNA.
158
Fourchue to the northwest of St. Barthélemy, with or without the aid of
Gustavia burghers.26
In 1821 one such incident at Fourchue brought to light the problems facing
the Swedish government of St. Barthélemy. An American brig carrying 380
captives was captured by insurgents and brought to the small islet where the
cargo was sold to the naturalized Swedes Bigwood & Debouille, who
transshipped them on their own accord, likely to Puerto Rico or Guadeloupe.
There were numerous similar cases where Swedish St. Barthélemy subjects
were implicated.
The second problem was the resurgence of the slave trade within the
French colonies after the war, particularly Guadeloupe. French slave traders
maintained a steady traffic to their colonies as well as foreign markets such as
Cuba and Puerto Rico. For their purposes, St. Barthélemy assumed the
character of a subterfuge for illegal activities. Swedish documents were
procured for illegal vessels, crews were recruited from St. Barthélemy, and
equipment, iron and gunpowder for the coastal trade was purchased in
Gustavia, as was frequently also the case at Charlotte Amalie on St. Thomas.27
The third problem and the crux of the Swedish position was the slave
trade’s profitability in a time of post-war economic slump. Administrators
were reluctant to turn away at least the most indirect and discreet instances
in view of its commercial importance for the colony. Governors and senior
members of the administration were accused of having a hand in or at the very
least turning a blind eye to the most blatant infractions of international
treaties. Governor Norderling had initially held a firm line with slave
smugglers who exploited the islet of Fourchue and indeed captured or chased
away a few ships during the early years of his period. He however soon caved
in to the realities of the illicit slave trade. He soon noticed that the ailing
economy of Gustavia in the post-war years quickly showed signs of
rejuvenation if only slave ships and privateers were given leeway. He admitted
as much himself in his official reports to Stockholm. Many French slavers that
regrouped in Gustavia during or after a sale often came to his notice. He

26 Per Tingbrand, “Femöarne,” 136–62.
27 Josette Fallope, “Négriers de la Guadeloupe sur la côte africaine au début du XIXe siècle,” in
L’Afrique entre L’Europe et l’Amerique. Le rôle de l’Afrique dans la rencontre de deux mondes, ed. Elikia
M’Bokolo (Mayenne: UNESCO, 1995), 103–18.
159
however justified their presence with the fact that the burghers of Gustavia
were “such smugglers of sugar and coffee of Guadeloupe and Martinique”,
that it would be the “height of ingratitude” to denounce or subvert their
affairs. Good relations needed to be retained with the French colonies in
order for St. Barthélemy to retain some of its lost commercial vivacity. It is
however uncertain whether he himself or other Swedish officials profited
from this state of affairs, as per Harrison’s reports and others.28
The Swedish government’s ambiguous relation to the insurgents was also a
cause of recurring difficulties. Norderling had been firmly instructed not to
pursue or prosecute individual slavers or privateers to firmly so as to injure
prospective commercial relations with them. The Swedish government’s view
– especially that of Charles XIV – was that commercial ties with South
America’s rebels was to be carefully encouraged and cultivated, so long as it
did not put any unnecessary stress on diplomatic relations with Spain or its
allies.29
While the Swedish administration of St. Barthélemy continued its
pragmatic policy towards foreign slave traders, it clamped down on the slave
trade under Swedish flags to a higher degree. An 1824 treaty with Britain
marked a new commitment from the Swedish side in the question of the
international slave trade. The treaty was the first to unequivocally proclaim
the complete abolition of the Swedish slave trade and established the right of
search for Swedish and Norwegian vessels suspected of trading in slaves, as
the two kingdoms were joined since 1814. When the treaty was made public
in St. Barthélemy, the Governor was however faced with an obstinate council.
Two members of the council were concerned with the consequences of
individual slave sales between households. A third council member, Gerhard
Röhl, a relative of Jacob Röhl and associate of the Röhl & Hansen firm, footed

28 Norderling’s report, 15 October 1819, SBS 6A, SNA. “ […] Sire nous sommes ici de si grands
contrebandiers en Sucre, Café e& de la Guadeloupe et Martinique, et nous avons un si grand
bésoin de l’indulgence des Gouverneurs de ces Isles, qu’à peine osons nous penser à leurs péchés,
encore moins les dénoncer, ce serait de notre part le comble d’ingratitude.”
29 Norderling’s instruction, 29 April 1819, C 256, FSB, ANOM. A copy is found in Pommerska
expeditionen och kolonialdepartementet, BII:3, SNA. An excerpt read as follows : “Quant aux
batimens Negrieres ou aux prises faites sur les Nations Espagnoles et Portugaises, elles ne
pourront ni être recues, ni vendues à St. Barthélemy; mais pour des effets, parvenus légalement
dans la possession d’un tiers, encore que provenant d’une capture, aucune poursuite, de la part du
Gouvernement, ne pourra avoir lieu.”
160
more categorical objections against the treaty. As an interesting precondition
to the discussion in the council, Sweden and Norway were united under the
same crown, and as a result the Danish-Norwegian text of the 1792 abolition
was fully included in the 1824 treaty between Sweden and Britain. Röhl pithily
objected that it was widely known that the 1792 decision had never been
executed in St. Thomas, and ascertained that no changes should be made in
prevailing practice. The treaty’s stipulations were nevertheless upheld with
only a few concessions in the final proclamation to allow for the sale and
purchase of slaves for household needs.30
The increasingly firm stance shows in the sudden break of the fairly
constant trickle of Swedish-flagged slaving voyages until 1814. That year the
last legally registered Swedish slave ship, Pilot, owned by the merchant house
of Elbers & Krafft, departed from St. Barthélemy for the West African Coast.
In 1820 the last known Swedish-flagged slave ship entry in Havana was
recorded. Even as the official slave trade withered out, the record is marred
with reports of illicit departures and violations of port regulations. Governor
Norderling estimated in 1825 that “dozens” of Swedish ships had illicitly left
for the slave trade on the Coast of Africa, all the while with false destinations
and forged documents. There were similar observations being made by British
naval officers, ones who disdained the “false notion of encouraging trade”
among the Dutch, Danish, and Swedish Governments by instructing “their
Authorities in the West Indies not to be too strict.” Facilities to acquire
documents of different national origins and thus ostensibly acquire several
national characters were readily available for the illegal slave traders. Frequent

30 The right of search was included but Sweden opted out of seating a representative at the mixed
court in Sierra Leone. Instead the council of St. Barthélemy was vested with the powers of the
projected ‘mixed court’, see Bloomfield to Canning, 11 March, 8 April, 29 April, 27 August, 11
November 1824, in Memoirs of Benjamin Lord Bloomfield, ed. Georgiana Bloomfield (London:
Chapman & Hall, 1884), I: 102–03, 116–18, 137–38, 234, 258–60; Minutes of the council, 22 February
& 14 March 1828, SBS 10A, SNA. Drafts of the minutes are also found in PJ 160, FSB, ANOM.
Röhl’s claim was well grounded in some aspects, insofar as the Danish slave trade via St. Thomas
was perpetuated well beyond 1802 contrary to the stipulations of the 1792 decision. See GreenPedersen, “Colonial Trade,” 110–11.
161
reports and rumors in fact led to the long-held British belief that the slave
trade was secretly being protected at St. Barthélemy.31
In 1830 Sweden however reinforced its earlier commitment to abolition by
instituting a penal law against the slave trade. The death sentence was
reserved for the gravest offenders, whereas the pertained ship and cargo were
to be forfeited to the crown. The same year a trial on St. Barthélemy delivered
a guilty verdict for the ship Gotland, due to have been commissioned to the
African coast by the Gustavia burgher Samuel Vaughan. The ship and cargo
was seized and sold to the benefit of the crown, whereas the owner and crew
were spared any corporeal punishment. It was the last Swedish-flagged slave
ship on record to have attempted a transatlantic slave trade expedition from
St Barthélemy.32

Even so, spurious accounts continued of foreign slave ships that exploited
Gustavia as a port of convenience continued well into the 1830s, and would
only cease when the abolitionist efforts of other nations, particularly France,
became effective enough to suppress the illegal smugglers of human captives.
The Swedish abolition of the slave trade was thus not enforced – as it is often
claimed – from the beginning of 1813, but rather was instituted piecemeal over
the course of several decades, whereas the relation to the foreign illegal slave
trade was never properly negotiated or formulated. Gustavia was thus a
comparatively safe asylum for the illegal slave trade that slowly waned during
the course of the 19th century, and its burghers took active part in many parts
of its organization, recruitment, as well as in its supporting and associated
trades and commodity chains.33

31 Pilot is recorded in Klein’s Havana dataset as an arrival with 61 slaves at the Havana in February

The ship is however not recorded in TAST. The Pilot’s Muster roll dated 17 December 1814,
in AM 265, FSB, ANOM; The Swedish vessel that landed in Havana in 1820 was a vessel named
Maria, TAST i.d. 112.; Norderling’s report, 11 May 1825, SBS 9A, SNA; Bloomfield to Canning, 22
February 1833, Memoirs of Lord Bloomfield, II: 296–97.
32 Kongl. Maj:ts Nådiga Förordning, angående answar för Negerhandel och delaktighet deruti, 7
January 1830, in Swensk Författnings-Samling, no. 33 (Stockholm, 1830): 325–28; Regarding the
Gotland, see Haasum’s report, 4 September 1830, SBS 10B, SNA.
33 There is one other reported Swedish slave ship, the Victorina or Victoria, said to have cleared
out from Havana for the coast in November 1837, but there is little else known about this ship
and her ownership. See HM:s Commissioners to Viscount Palmerston, 30 November & 2o
December, 1837, in Correspondence with the British Commissioners at Sierra Leone, the Havana, Rio de
Janeiro and Surinam, relating to Slave Trade, 1837 (London, 1838); For the case of the Gotland, see
Minutes of the council, 4 September 1830, SBS 10B, SNA.
162
3.2 An Assessment of the Gustavia Slave Trade
Any quantitative investigation of the Swedish involvement in the slave trade
during the 18–19th century must start with the CLASH catalogue, or as it is
titled, the “Répertoire” de la traite négriére: Saint-Barthélemy (Suéde). With a
special focus the colony of St. Barthélemy, it is the most detailed single
collection of references to the Swedish slave trade available. It is hosted
online among a vast range of miscellanea pertaining to the history of St.
Barthélemy, collected and published by Richard Ledée, a St. Barthélemy
resident and amateur historian.34
While the CLASH catalogue has been described as a slave trade database
in scholarly productions and used as such, it is not a database in the strictest
sense of the word. More precisely, it is a catalogue of all manner of references
to slave trade having been perpetrated with any kind of affiliation with St.
Barthélemy or the Swedish flag. There are aspects about the Répertoire which
make it problematic and which have further misconstrued the picture of the
Swedish slave trade through St. Barthélemy. Whatever its relative demerits,
the catalogue is the essential foundation of this section, without which such
an investigation would be impossible. There are conceptual problems with
operationalizing Swedish slave trade in the catalogue that are serious enough
that I have chosen to omit 25 dubious entries in the CLASH catalogue.
Additionally, 10 slaving voyages not included in the catalogue have been
added, following empirical studies of unexploited archival records.35
The quantitative assessment presented in this section also incorporates a
wide range of data from different primary sources as well as databases and
digital repositories, in order to build a dataset with the expressed goal of
surveying the total extent of the slave trade through St. Barthélemy. The

34 CLASH is short for Le Comité de Liaison et d’Application des Sources Historiques.
http://www.memoirestbarth.com/st-barts/traite-negriere/pdf/repertoire-traite-negriere-saintbarthelemy-suede.pdf, date accessed 18 June 2015. It does not incorporate the 17th-century slave
trade of Swedish Cabo Corso. While the material varies on the website varies, Ledée has taken a
special interest in how the slave trade and slavery has affected the history of the island. The last
update of the slave trade catalogue was on June 15, 2011. An earlier version of the catalogue is used
in Weiss, “Danskar och svenskar,” 60–62.
35 See appendices IX and X for details.
163
CLASH catalogue also builds upon these. The Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade
Database (TAST) and Herbert Klein’s dataset on the importation of slaves
into Cuba 1790–1820 are two other essential components. The TAST is
however somewhat difficult in this particular context as it is belied with some
problems regarding the study of Swedish ships, as Swedish-flagged voyages are
covered under the umbrella category of ‘Danish/Baltic’ ships. Also, it is not
always possible to ascertain a particular ship’s connection to St. Barthélemy
through the database. Coverage of all pertinent slaving voyages is also lacking.
Some of its omissions are hard to understand, as one of the many components
of TAST is the Klein dataset, which in turn includes these. Some of the
relevant entries on Swedish slave ships in Klein’s dataset are not included in
TAST presumably because the TAST does not include smaller intraCaribbean voyages. However, slaving voyages that made the Atlantic passage
under Swedish flags or with Swedish participation are omitted from TAST
while still being a part of Klein’s older dataset.36
In order to make a serious attempt to assess the Swedish slave trade
through St. Barthélemy, there is need for an operationalization of what the
Swedish slave trade was and what it was not. There is also a need to
characterize the nature of foreign exploitation of Gustavia for the needs of
the slave trade. To this end, 8 categories of slave trade organization and
affiliation have been devised (Table 3.1), as well as 7 categories of different
voyage outcomes (Table 3.2). The manifold varieties of slave trade through
Gustavia across a large time-span – from the era of legal to illegal trading – as

36 The Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade Database (TAST), http://www.slavevoyages.org; Herbert S. Klein,
“North American Competition and the Characteristics of the African Slave Trade to Cuba,
1790–94,” The William & Mary Quarterly 28, no. 1 (1971): 86–102; Herbert S. Klein, “The Cuban
Slave Trade in a Period of Transition, 1790–1843,” Revue française d’histoire d’outre-mer (1975): 67–
89; For Klein’s raw data and documentation, see the University of Wisconsin’s Data &
Information Services Center’s copy: Herbert S. Klein, Slave Trade to Havana, Cuba, 1790–1820
(accessed October 10, 2014). http://www.disc.wisc.edu/archive/slave/slave09_index.html. Klein’s
dataset includes 16 relevant voyages not covered in TAST. Other notable data collections apart
from TAST and Klein include James A. McMillin, The Final Victims: The Foreign Slave Trade
to North America, 1783–1810 (Columbia: Columbia University Press, 2004), Appendix B;
Gregory E. O’Malley, Final Passages: The Intercolonial Slave Trade of British America, 1619–1807
(Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2014); Serge Daget, Répertoire des Expéditions
Négriéres Françaises á la Traite Illegale 1814–1850 (Nantes: Centre de recherche sur l’histoire du
monde atlantique, 1988); a few entries extracted from Michael Reidy, “Admission of Slaves and
Prize Slaves into the Cape Colony, 1797–1818” (Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of
Cape Town, 1997); and Jean Pierre Leglaunec, “A Directory of Slave Ships with Slave Cargoes,
Louisiana, 1772–1808,” Louisiana History 46 (2005): 211–30.
164
well as the exigencies of national affiliation has necessitated this level of
complexity and detail.
Categories 1–4 can be termed as the framework within which Swedish slave
trade proper can be identified, starting with Swedish St. Barthélemy-ships
(Category 1) which were by all appearances organized, financed, registered,
and deployed from St. Barthélemy by bona fide Swedish subjects. Cases that
can be confirmed as Swedish-flagged slave ventures financed and realized by
Swedes or naturalized Swedish Gustavia burghers fall under this category.
While a case could be made for the inclusion of the runaway slaves and slave
convicts sold by the island government on public auctions in Gustavia, these
are however not included. Although it may also be termed as a form of
Swedish slave trade, is it distinct from the organized commerce in human
captives by sea that is the focus of this investigation. Category 2 simply
includes Swedish-flagged voyages which suggest a departure and base in a
Swedish port town in the Baltic, with little or unknown connections to the
Swedish colony.
Category 3 is more difficult to categorize, as it pertains to the legally
ambiguous activity of coloring ships with ship documents of one or more
national origins. An example of such an instance was the brig Regulator, for
which the Gustavia inhabitant Samuel Parsons registered a Swedish sea pass
on the 22nd September 1794, for a journey “to Surinam and the African coast
and back here again.” The extant records tell us nothing about the subsequent
fate of this supposedly Swedish-flagged slaving voyage, but a British brig
named Regulator sailed from London in May 1795 towards Cape Coast Castle
and Accra, and arrived in Barbados with a cargo of African captives in
November the same year. There are some inconsistencies between the short
record in the Swedish pass-registers and the information amassed about the
Regulator in British sources, but it is however not unlikely that the two were
the one and the same ship. If they were the same ship, the London owners
could have procured Swedish ship documents through Parsons, a British
colonist who had become a naturalized Swedish burgher. The documents
could have fit any number of purposes, although a precaution against
maritime predation was the most likely. It did not necessarily entail that the
165
ship primarily flew Swedish colors, if at all. This is also a fact worth noting
when reviewing the total numbers of exported slaves under each category.37
Category 4 includes foreign slave ships with one or more bona fide Swedish
subjects attached in some manner to the necessary commercial operations of
the voyage. Gustavia merchants did not always freight slave ships of their own,
but instead acted as agents and consignees of foreign-based slave traders. Such
was the case with John Joseph Cremony, who was the agent for the large firm
of Henry Clarke and George and Robert Tod & Co. of Liverpool. The firm
had bought and fitted a ship of 270 tons, the Kitty’s Amelia, which made four
African journeys between 1804 and 1808. For an 1805 expedition, the captain
was instructed to dispose of the “Women & Male Negroes at St. Kitts for
short Bills or Produce” after which he was to proceed with the remainder to
St. Barthélemy, where Cremony was a possible contact. Cremony would then
see to it that the remaining slaves could be dispatched to Havana, as he had
assured the captain upon his return to the West Indies:38
The Negroes continue in great demand to windward, and I think in Six
weeks, or two months, I will be able to turn your Cargoe into Government
Bills, or Cash, provided your Cargoe is good, & I have very little doubt of
its being so – from the choice I have seen you make before. I will likewise
engage to give you, either here or at St. Kitts, a full freight for your Ship.
[…]39

37 The British brig Regulator recorded in TAST, no. 83301; Additional references to it in Adam
Afzelius, Adam Afzelius Sierra Leone Journal 1795–1796, ed. Alexander Kup (Uppsala: Studia
Ethnographica Upsaliensia, 1967), 32; Lloyd’s List 8 May, 4 August, 8 December 1795, 11 March
1796; The pass-register notation for the Swedish brig Regulator in AM 265, ANOM, 75; Samuel
Parsons listed as a Gustavia burgher in the St. Barthélemy census of 1796, SBS 28, SNA; see also
Wernberg to SWIC, 10 August 1795, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 169, SNA.
38 The voyages of Kitty’s Amelia are recorded in TAST, nos. 82200–03; Correspondence and other
records relating to Cremony’s connections with Liverpool slave traders in DX/170/1–9, Maritime
Archives & Library, Merseyside Maritime Museum, Liverpool; see also Charles R. Hand, “The
Kitty’s Amelia, the last Liverpool slaver”, Transactions of the Historical Society of Lancashire and
Cheshire, vol. 28 (1930), 70–73.
39 Cremony to Nuttall, 13 August 1806, in Hand, “The Kitty’s Amelia,” 76.
166
Table 3.1 Categories of Slave Trade Organization and
Affiliation
1 (Swedish St. Barthélemy-ships) Swedish-flagged voyage registered and
organized by bona fide Swedish subjects stationed in St. Barthélemy.
2 (Swedish ships proper) Swedish-flagged voyage registered and
organized by bona fide Swedish subjects, but with unclear or nonexistent connection to St. Barthélemy.
3 (Colored foreign ships) Swedish-flagged voyage registered and
organized by foreign actors with the assistance of bona fide Swedish
subjects in St. Barthélemy as agents and/or consignees. The ship may
have possessed documents of registration etc. of foreign origin, i.e. a
so-called colored voyage.
4 (Foreign ships with Swedish agents) Foreign-flagged voyage operating
with the assistance of bona fide Swedish subjects in St. Barthélemy as
agents and/or consignees. The ship may or may not have touched at or
even disembarked slaves in St. Barthélemy during a leg of its voyage.
5 (Foreign ships) Foreign-flagged voyage with unclear or nonexistent
connection to St. Barthélemy. The ship nevertheless touched at or
even disembarked slaves at St. Barthélemy during its voyage.
6 (Foreign prize ships) Foreign-flagged voyage brought to St.
Barthélemy by way of privateering activities. St. Barthélemy may have
been either an accidental or pre-planned rendezvous point and/or
slave market. Varying degrees of involvement and connivance by
colony merchants and officials.
7 (Foreign proxy ships) Foreign-flagged voyage which merely used St.
Barthélemy as a convenient port for armament, refitting, sale of ship,
or crew recruitment.
8 (Illegally colored foreign ships) Foreign-flagged voyage with forged
Swedish documents but no confirmed Swedish connections.

167
Table 3.2 Categories of Slaving Voyage Outcomes
A Delivered slaves as per the original intent.
B Captured and condemned, slaves sold before capture.
C Captured and condemned, slaves sold or freed after capture.
D Captured by South American insurgent privateers.
E Original goal thwarted due to shipwreck, mutiny, or natural hazard.
F Outcome unknown
G Other
Cremony and other Gustavia merchants like him took it upon themselves to
liquidate the shipments of foreign-owned slaves into the final payoffs and
profits. Some of the slaves were even likely sold on location in St. Barthélemy
even if the confirming evidence for this is very much lacking in the records.
While voyages such as these cannot be termed Swedish slave trade per se, it is
nonetheless a very tangible form of Swedish participation in the slave trade.
Categories 5–8 on the other hand encompass different forms of slave
trade, from planned to purely transactions incidentally finding their way
through St. Barthélemy by necessity, brought on by either adverse weather,
maritime predation, or damages to the vessel. In this category voyages such as
that of the U.S. frigate La Feliz can be found. La Feliz made an Atlantic passage
during 1788 and returned with 228 captives in Louisiana in October, but only
after touching at St. Barthélemy, ostensibly for the convenience of a last stop
before the final leg to the continent. Other ships in this category seem to have
carried larger shipments of captives from the African coast and indeed sold
them at St. Barthélemy, but this is inferred only by the fact that these ships
do not turn up as having different destinations in other sources. To present
knowledge, there are no detailed preserved records of slave sales out of the
cargoes of transatlantic slavers, only a few instances where there exists witness
168
accounts of a slave cargo sales having been made. In those accounts, there are
seldom any explicit or reliable numbers of slaves mentioned.40
Category 6 comprises all known accounts of privateer-seized slaves either
sold to Swedish subjects in St. Barthélemy or simply transshipped through
Swedish territory, specifically within the conveniently uncontrolled waters of
Ile Fourchue. Category 7 includes all foreign slave ships known to have
employed St. Barthélemy in a number of indirect ways. It could concern
partial purchases of the cargo intended for barter on the African coast,
recruitment of mariners, as well as refurbishment and repairs of ships outside
of their own national jurisdictions. Category 8 includes all ships known to
have forged Swedish documents and were in no other way connected or
affiliated with the legal or commercial frameworks of St. Barthélemy.
Before a breakdown of the extent of different categories (Tables 3.3 and
3.4), it should be noted that the known numbers and ships involved in the
dataset are empirical findings, not calculations or extrapolations. The
maximum recorded amount of slaves for a particular ship is thus included in
the dataset. If the amount of slaves is not known, there is no figure added to
the dataset. So, for ships that entered Gustavia with an un-enumerated cargo
of “New Negroes from the Islands” as so often happened, only the ship itself
is recorded. The same goes for information on destinations and ports of
departure, if these are not known then they are marked as “unknown”.
The complete amount slave ships included is 87 ships with a total of 7,370
slaves. It should be noted that out of these 87 ships, there are only information
on slaves for 61 of them. The hidden figure of slaves should however not be
very large, as most of the ships without details on slave cargoes were smaller
crafts involved in inter-island commerce in the West Indies. Out of the total
figure of ships there are a few observations to be made. 37 ships (Categories
1–2) made their expeditions under Swedish flags, the great majority of which
were based in St. Barthélemy. Comparatively few foriegn ships made use of
the Swedish colony (3–4) as a slave market or port of transshipment. The

40 The voyage of La Feliz is recorded in TAST, no. 41844; see also Gilbert C. Din, Spaniards,
Planters, and Slaves: The Spanish Regulation in Louisiana, 1763–1803 (College Station: Texas A & M
University Press, 1999), 124, 286; Leglaunec, “A Directory of Ships,” 220; McMillin, The Final
Victims, Appendix B.
169
Table 3.3 Slave Ships by Category
A B C D E F G Total
1 28 – 1 – 1 2 1 33
2 4 – – – – – – 4
3 2 2 1 – – – – 5
4 5 – – – – 1 2 8
5 11 1 – – – 2 – 14
6 – – 1 4 1 2 1 9
7 1 1 3 – – 5 3 13
8 – – 1 – – – – 1
Total 47 4 7 4 2 12 7 87
Table 3.4 Slaves by Category
A B C D E F G Total
1 2,087 – 84 – 100 64 n/a 2,335
2 434 – – – – – – 434
3 66 312 107 – – – – 485
4 971 – – – – 51 140 1,162
5 1,023 35 – – – n/a – 1,058
6 – – 207 380 n/a 330 152 1,069
7 114 n/a 202 – – 511 – 827
8 – – n/a – – – – n/a
Total 4,695 347 600 380 100 956 292 7,370
Figure 3.2 Slaves by Category, Chronology 1785–1839
Source: Wilson dataset on the Swedish slave trade (2015).
0
200
400
600
800
1000
1200
1400
1600
1800
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
170
relative weight in slave numbers that these ships had should however be
noted. The eight ships in category 4 carried nearly half the amount of slaves
as the 33 Swedish St. Barthélemy ships. This would indicate that the ships
employed by Swedish slave traders were comparatively small and were
employed mostly in a more limited inter-island trade, transshipping portions
of captives from the coast that had arrived in larger ships. Indeed, there is
reliable information of African landings for only a handful of Swedish ships.
A comparative number of ships made use of St. Barthélemy as an
intermediate stop between the African coast and their ultimate destinations
(5), whereas a sizeable portion of slaves were illegally sold through St.
Barthélemy and its outlying territories (6) by insurgent privateers in various
modes of conduct. Illegal slavers (7), primarily French vessels from
Guadeloupe, also made an appreciable impact on the total figures. These last
categories constitute a collection of uncertainties as to their exact extent.
Due to their clandestine and illegal nature, their extent will never be fully
known, but is however very possible that their numbers could be quite larger.
There is only one known vessel with forged Swedish papers (8), the Joseph,
naturally because it was condemned in the mixed courts of Sierra Leone in
1820 after having been captured and its papers confiscated. Judging by the
number of suspicions and sundry reports to this effect, there were certainly
several others which carried forged papers of Swedish and other nationalities,
but none of these can be confirmed.41
The majority of voyages in this database were completed successfully for
the organizers, 47 ships carrying 4,695 captives reached their destinations
without succumbing to the hazards of the weather, illness, maritime
aggressions or the vigilance of anti-slaving cruisers. An even greater extent of
the Swedish slave ships, 87 percent of the category 1 vessels, were completed
successfully. There are however a large amount of slave ships and slaves whose
ultimate fate are unknown (F), whereas the ships and slaves in the ‘other’
category (G), most often refer to ships which have been detained by various
authorities but subsequently released. Their ultimate outcome after that are
often obscure.

41 The Joseph recorded in TAST, no. 2329.
171
Table 3.5 Slave Ships by Destination
Total
33
4
5
8
14
9
13
1
87
Source: Wilson dataset on the Swedish slave trade (2015).
Other/
Unknown

4 –

6
3
8
1
22
North
American

Coast —

1

3
British
Caribbean
1 -1

1 –

3
French

Caribbean

–

1
2 -3
4
10
Spanish
Caribbean
20
4

3 -2 -1

30
St.
Barthélemy

8

5
4
2 —
19
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
Total
172
Table 3.6 Slaves by Destination
Total
2,335
434
485
1,162
1,058
1,069
827
n/a
7,370
Source: Wilson dataset on the Swedish slave trade (2015).
Other/
Unknown

184 –

38
380
601
n/a
1,203
North
American

Coast

–

n/a

426
British
Caribbean

14

226

319 –

559
French

Caribbean

107
280 – 537
226 – 1,150
Spanish
Caribbean
1,539
434
152 -88 – n/a – 2,213
St.
Barthélemy

598

563
506

152

1,819
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
Total

173
A chronological analysis (Figure 3.2) of the different categories illustrates
a few further points. The growth and development of the slave trade in St.
Barthélemy started in the 1790s and culminated in the final years of the war.
The foreign share of the slave trade indeed seems to have been very marginal
until the post-war era, and only increased again after the 1815 recession with
the South American independence movements and the regular slaving
activities of their privateers, as well as the French illegal slave traders. This is
however an over-simplification, as foreign actors often had consignments or
shares in Swedish vessels, as well as the fact that many Gustavia burghers were
involved in and earned their livelihoods by participating in the illegal slave
trade of neighboring colonies. The peak years for the trade however fell
within the first ten years of the 19th century, before the following decades of
the post-war illegal trade. The reason why this latter period (1830–39) contains
no reliable data on the numbers of captives transported is precisely due to its
illegal character. There are eight separate vessels which can be linked to St.
Barthélemy but none of their associated documents contain reliable – if any –
information on their cargoes.
These data can be complemented with an overview of the overall trajectory
of the trade (Tables 3.5 and 3.6). The overwhelming majority of the slave trade
went to the Spanish Caribbean, primarily to Cuba, but a portion also went to
Puerto Rico, as well as a few shipments to destinations on the Spanish Main.
This fits rather well with the chronological development of the trade, which
picked up in the early 1790 at precisely the time when Spanish colonies
opened up their ports for the foreign importation of slaves. St. Barthélemy
itself was the second largest recipient of slaves, but this figure likely does not
reflect the true number of slaves that were finally sold and put to work in the
Swedish colony. Most of these were most probably transshipped to
neighboring colonies, Cuba, or other larger markets. That is not to say that a
significant influx of slaves occurred in St. Barthélemy during the peak years of
the trade. This can be best attested by the large growth of the urban slave
population of population which grew more than sevenfold from the early
years of the colony (242 slaves in 1787) until the later years of the war (1,818
slaves in 1812). Some portion of this development must however also be
attributed to the settlement of newly settled colonists who brought their
174
households and slaves with them in tow. It is however hard to make this
distinction in concrete numbers due to the lack of precise sources.
French colonies were unsurprisingly the third most frequented
destination, attributable to the Swedish colony’s close ties to Guadeloupe,
Martinique, and St. Martin, during the era of the legal as well as the illegal
trade. British colonies and the North American seaports were on the other
hand a relatively small piece of the overall trade, but these numbers could well
may be adjusted upwards to the existence of an illegal trade after the
respective abolitions of United States and Great Britain.
In conclusion, it should be noted that the Swedish-flagged slave trade,
either organized by Gustavia merchants, or colored foreign vessels, was small
in scope and intensity when put into the wider context of transatlantic slave
voyages during the period covered. In comparison with, for instance, the
Danish slave trade organized through the free port of Charlotte Amalie on St.
Thomas, which in many respects was very similar in character, it was of a
minor scale. Between 1790 and 1807, there were 191 recorded landings of
Danish slave ships in Havana, with a total of 12,341 captives. The
corresponding Swedish numbers reach 20 recorded landings and 1,676
captives, and this is in the period up until 1820. The slave trade was
furthermore only a small piece of the much larger transit trade of Gustavia.
On the whole, however, one should note that there existed some impetus
for foreign slave traders to make use of Swedish ships as a cover for their
activities. This became especially prevalent towards the middle of the 19th
century, when international treaties and laws were codified in an overarching
ambition to end the transatlantic slave trade. Gustavia could and did offer the
facilities for seekers of protection or extralegal opportunities. The important
role of local agents as intermediaries in the trade makes it difficult to make a
more precise estimate of the transportation of African captives which had any
links to the Swedish colony. There may be yet a significant portion of the 19th
century slave trade which can be traced to the activities of actors in St.
Barthélemy. There are also some very concrete conceptual issues regarding
what exactly constituted Swedish slave trade. These have been discussed at
175
some length in this chapter, but the result has been that a majority of the slave
trade covered can be attributed to important Swedish actors in the colony.42

42 Note that these are only the Swedish-flagged imports of slaves into Havana recorded in Klein’s
dataset. TAST does not record all of these arrivals. There were other shipments to Cuba from St.
Barthélemy, but under other flags; For the Danish slave trade through St. Thomas, see SvendErik Green-Pedersen, “The History of the Danish Negro Slave Trade, 1733–1807, An Interim
Survey Relating In Particular to its Volume, Structure, Profitability, and Abolition,” Revue
française d’histoire d’Outre-Mer, no. 65 (1975): 196–220; “Colonial Trade under the Danish Flag,” 99.
176
4 Gustavia and the Caribbean Transit
Trade, 1793–1809
4.1 A Growing Free Trade Outpost, 1793–1801
This chapter is devoted principally to the investigation of the scope, volume,
and intensity of the transit trade to and from Gustavia during from the
outbreak of war in the early 1790s until 1820. The previous chapters have
shown that Gustavia was subject to shifting developments from the time of
its foundation. The complex regional developments during the closing decade
of the eighteenth century were the sources of its increasing population and
activity. But besides lending itself as a neutral sanctuary for a host of different
settlers and political refugees alike, what role did it come to play in the
economy in the region? After the abrogation of the Swedish West India
Company’s charter in 1805, trans-Atlantic voyages to and from Sweden soon
became virtually non-existent. Naturalized burghers were not allowed to fly
the Swedish flag on European-bound voyages. Its future as a free port was
ultimately dependent on its utility as a Caribbean marketplace in the
following two decades of warfare, as well as on the independent shipping
activities of its cohorts of naturalized merchants, traders and sailors.
Calculating the commercial movements through Gustavia during the wars
presents a wide range of difficulties. Yet, a useful starting point of reference
for the overall development of trade in St. Barthélemy can be found in the
Gustavia customs revenue records (Table 4.1.), which are available in
aggregate figures from 1791 onwards. Although far from an ideal measurement
of trade frequency to allow for many definitive conclusions, some inferences
can be made about the ebbs and flows of the commercial life of Gustavia. The
collected revenues consisted of importation and exportation duties, as well as
a number of minor fees for pilotage, anchorage, weighing and gauging.
Importation and exportation duties were subject to differential tariffs. The
177
primary logic behind differential duties was to safeguard the importation of
essentials, i.e. provisions and building materials, as well as to favor the
carrying trade under Swedish colors. In essence this meant that the
importation of all goods that could be passable as “American” and “West
Indian” coming from within the Americas were free of duty. This included
the whole spectrum of staples produced in the colonies, to all kinds of
American-produced provisions and livestock. Importation of lumber in any
form was subject to a half percent duty, unless carried in Swedish bottoms,
when no duty was necessary. The highest duties were on European goods and
manufactures, which were as high as three percent when imported in foreign
bottoms, two percent in Swedish. When European goods where imported
from North America or the West India islands, the duties were slightly lower,
two percent for foreign ships, one and half for Swedish ships.1

These were very low duties, but they were intentionally so. The low duties
were put in place in order to attract surrounding commerce in the region from
the other principal free ports. But it also diverted a lot of potential revenues
from the island coffers. Calculations of the value of vessel cargoes passing in
and out of the harbor were made by the customs collector in 1799 for the
preceding three years. In 1796, the starting year, the valuation of export and
import cargoes landed at 1,007,161 Spanish dollars, while the total share of
that value collected into the colonial chest was 6,270 Spanish dollars. The rate
of the “rent” for the transit traffic in Gustavia in 1796 was only 6 promille.
1797–99 displayed equal rates. Exploiting the transit traffic financially was one
of the prime concerns for the council, and tariffs were subject to successive
revisions in 1790, 1800, 1803, and 1804 to address annual fluctuations in prices
and to improve gains, but these revisions have a very limited effect on how to
review the overall development between these years. In conclusion, the high
discrepancy in total value and collected duties raises a sound enough warning
about using the revenues as a reflection of real commercial value entering and

1
The 1786 regulation in SBS 23, SNA; and Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 308–309; The 1790
regulations in Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 310–311; His Royal Majesty’s letter to the Council
of Gustavia, 12 March 1790, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 160, SNA; The Report of St. Bartholomew, July
4, 1807; The 1800 regulation in The Report of St. Bartholomew, July 4, 1807; The 1803 regulation in
The Report of St. Bartholomew, March 4, 1804; The 1804 regulation in Government Minutes,
March 26, 1804 SBS 1 C, SNA; C.A. Wachtmeister et al to the Board of Directors of the SWIC,
March 26, 1804, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 190; SNA; The Report of St. Bartholomew, September 26,

178
leaving the free port of Gustavia, but they still offer some possibilities to
discern some patterns if taken at face value.2
Judging by these patterns, there
can be at least three distinctive time-periods in the economic history of the
free port. The first, beginning in 1790 and ending in 1808, conveys a process
of stable growth and consolidation, albeit small. From very modest
beginnings, the last decade of the 18th century saw incremental annual revenue
growth with a sudden expansion in early 1800 and 1801 before the British
occupation. Recovery after the Peace of Amiens was brisk, as well as the fact
that the beginning of the 19th century reached similar levels as before the stop
of 1801. Revenues in 1806–08 on the other hand suggests that trade
contracted considerably. 1809–15, the second period, was exceptional in
contrast with the preceding years. 1809 saw a sudden and significant increase
of commerce. While revenues during the preceding period averaged an annual
sum of 15,611 Spanish dollars, 1809–15 averaged 86,840 Spanish dollars, an
increase of 82 percent over a few years. 1815 marked the peak of this high tide
of commerce, before a third period of marked decline started in 1816, trailing
off to pre-1800 levels by the start of the 1820s. One can of course sense some
of the underlying causes for the developments in these figures in the course
of the political history enveloping the region, but it is worth taking a closer
look at the commerce that made up the fortunes (and misfortunes, as will be
argued as well) of the free port, which will be the emphasis of the following
chapters.

2
“A Calculation of the Value Sums of Ships and Vessels Cargoes, which have been entered and
Cleared at the Custom House of Gustavia Island of St. Bartholomew, since the beginning of the
year 1796 until the Last Day of June this year 1799,” in PJ 143, FSB, ANOM. The document offers
no basis for how the values were calculated, although it can be assumed with some certainty that
they were based on the enumeration of cargoes in customs journals. The surviving excerpts of the
1787 customs journals shows a fairly detailed and systematic record, which would surely have
produced some good estimates if combined with accurate price information. Usual caveats
involve the importation of dry goods and bullion, which were notoriously difficult for customs
authorities to record, and the ever present possibility of frauds and misreporting of cargoes. It is
not stated whether these considerations affected the estimates in any way.
179
Figure 4.1 St. Barthélemy customs revenues 1791–1825
Source:, St. Barthélemy account books, 1793–1814, S:t Barthélemysamlingen (SBS), vols. 25A-D, 30A-B, SNA; SWIC account ledgers and
journals, 1787–1808, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 87–120, SNA; The Report of Saint Bartholomew, 11 April 1807; Fredrik Edvard Fåhraeus, “Statistiska
upplysningar rörande svenska kolonin S:t Barthélemy” Statistisk tidskrift 2 (1865), 256–265.
180
The Outbreak of War in 1793
A “circumstance of great novelty” in the words of some observers after the
outbreak of war in 1793, was that the Caribbean Sea was covered with vessels
bearing the colors of the neutral powers. The principal neutral carriers in the
region were now the Americans, the Danes, and the Swedes. Especially the
trade of the United States trade experienced a rapid expansion with different
West Indian colonies. New opportunities for trade opened on the southern
continents as the war progressively undermined the Spanish and Portuguese
monopolies on trade with their American colonies. The trade of belligerents
found a greater need for the carrying capacity under neutral flags than ever.
The great concessions that American diplomacy and liberal trade advocates
could not even have imagined during the peace, was now essentially ushered
in overnight. Staunch protectionism gave way for a pragmatic policy of
subsistence in many colonies. The French opened their ports in 1793, and
English officials in the Caribbean greatly expanded the practice of permitting
trade otherwise forbidden by means of provisionary proclamations.3
While colonial ports were opened to a greater extent, the war however also
created the need for neutral carrying capacity. American shipping had by far
the most to gain from this development. Still, statistics of issued sea-passes in
St. Thomas and St Barthélemy (Figure 4.2) suggest that also Swedish and
Danish carrying capacity was in demand. Pre-war issues of sea passes convey
a lame level of activity, when St. Thomas vessels averaged only 30 to 40 vessels
a year, while St. Barthélemy had even less. But the war seemed to have an
instant effect on this, as Swedish vessels registered in higher numbers than
ever, as much as 90 in the year 1793. But the phenomenon in St .Thomas, on
the other hand, was unprecedented. From 1795 onwards it is as if a sizeable
neutral merchant fleet simply materialized in the island. Of course, the
buildup of shipping at St. Thomas started earlier, but there are not any official
records of registered vessels for the two preceding years. Even so, the increase

3
Quote from Observations of Archibald Gloster, 18 April 1795, FO 73/20, TNA; John H.
Coatsworth, “American Trade with European Colonies in the Caribbean and South America,
1790–1812,” The William & Mary Quarterly 24, no. 2 (1967), 243–266; Alice B. Keith, “Relaxations
in the British Restrictions on the American Trade with the British West Indies, 1783–1802,”
Journal of Modern History 20, no. 1 (1948), 1–18.
181
in carrying capacity is remarkable. During the years leading up to the turn of
the century and the subsequent British occupations, there was not nearly the
same amount of neutral vessels registered in St. Barthélemy. The more
restrictive sea pass regulations in force in St. Barthélemy as well as the larger
merchant community in St. Thomas easily suggest themselves as likely causes
for this discrepancy. A single telling circumstance was that island-registered
ships were restricted to 20 lasts burden or less. Another measure that
definitely stymied demand for Swedish ship documents was the prohibition
of European-bound voyages (save for Swedish destinations). In any case, the
war entailed that the governors of both St. Thomas and St. Barthélemy were
granting Danish and Swedish navigation documents on a more frequent basis
than ever.4
Other differences may also explain the fact that St. Thomas was better
situated for an expansion of neutral trade. On top of institutional advantages,
St. Thomas derived some benefits purely from its geographic position. The
proximity of St. Thomas to the larger Caribbean colonies, especially the
Spanish colonies of Puerto Rico, Santo Domingo and Cuba, but also French
Saint-Domingue, conveyed some potentially lucrative opportunities for
westbound traders stationed in St. Thomas. The British Vice Admiralty
records of Jamaica point to the ascension of this sort of trade quite visibly.
Out of the vessels libeled in the Vice Admiralty Court of Jamaica between
1793 and 1802, at least 232 of the vessels had been engaged in voyages that
originated in St. Thomas. 134 were engaged in round-trips beginning and
ending (at least officially) in St. Thomas. Another 27 were engaged in voyages
that originated in St. Thomas, and the remaining 72 were engaged in voyages
that included St. Thomas as a port of call, of which exactly half originated in
the United States and the other half in other ports, mostly Caribbean. The
peak year for seizures of Danish vessels was 1799, when the 82 prosecuted St.
Thomas cases represented over 20 percent of the Jamaica total that year. If
the passport registries of St. Thomas for the same period is compared to this
data, it is evident that almost ten percent of the St. Thomas merchant fleet
ended up in the clutches of the British Navy or British privateer vessels.

4
For the restrictions on Swedish passports and their perceived effects during this time, see
Ankarheim to von Fersen, 15 July 1801, Hans Axel von Fersens samling, vol. 12, Stafsundsarkivet,
SNA; and Söderström to von Ehrenheim, 14 May 1799, Diplomatica Americana, vol. 1, SNA.
182
Figure 4.2 Issued sea-passes for St. Thomas and St. Barthélemy vessels, 1788–1807
Sources: Udskrift af St. Jan og St. Thomas søpasprotokol 1788–1807 365/384 Vestindisk-guinesisk renteskriverkontor,
Generaltoldkammeret, Ældre del, DNA; PJT, vol. 136; FSB, ANOM; AM, vol. 265, FSB, ANOM; The Report of Saint Bartholomew
1804–1806. Figures for St. Barthélemy are missing for the years 1788–90, 1800, and 1802–03. Figures for St. Thomas are missing for the
years 1793–94. A majority of the passports (over 90 percent in St. Thomas) were issued for a duration of six months.

183
Navy patrolling areas around the Jamaica station were restricted to some
key areas: the Yucatán Channel to the northwest, a southwest-northeasterly
strip along the Rosalind Bank towards the Yucatán Peninsula, as well as the
entirety of the coast of Hispaniola and the southeastern coast of Cuba.
Patrolling rarely stretched as far north than the Turks and Caicos. Along
these focus areas, the majority of Danish vessels were caught along the
southern coastline of Hispaniola, often outside the major French and Spanish
ports of Hispaniola. The corresponding seizures of Swedish vessels or vessels
with some sort of affiliation to St. Barthélemy was only 25. There is nothing
to suggest that British cruisers and privateers were any less likely to capture
Swedish-flagged vessels, so these numbers offer some measure of
understanding of the difference in activity between Swedish and Danish
neutral shipping in the region. That is, of course, only the activity around the
Greater Antilles. The high frequency of Danish naturalized trade in the
region was due to the fact that St. Thomas was increasingly playing host to at
least two great foreign channels of trade. One was the British trade with
Spanish America, and the other was the American transit trade to Caribbean
colonies, Saint Domingue being one of the chief ventures.5
It should, however, be stressed that American shipping was far from
enjoying an empty field when it came to exploiting neutral carriers. An
embittered Philadelphia merchant observed that Dutchmen employed the
same method in the Saint Domingue coffee trade:
The Danes, or rather Dutch, under Danish colours, are powerful and
jealous competitors for a share in this commerce: Their flags being also
neutral, they swarm here [Saint Domingue] from St Thomas’s &c. – and […]
endeavour to undersell us. The usual custom among the sellers of this
article, when they arrive in town, is, at first to go into al the American stores

5
Udskrift af St. Jan og St. Thomas søpasprotokol 1788–1807 365/384 Vestindisk-guinesisk
renteskriverkontor, Generaltoldkammeret, Ældre del, DNA. The percentage was 8.9 percent,
to be exact, or 232 seizures out of a total of 2,597 registered vessels during the years 1795–1802.
Many of these decisions were appealed, but still a very high proportion of the St. Thomas cases
between 1793 and 1802 ended up with the complete condemnation of vessel and cargo. It is worth
noting that Danish vessels libelled in Vice Admiralty Courts elsewhere in the British Caribbean
are missing from these figures. See Craton, “Vice Admiralty Courts,” 287–289.
184
and learn the highest prices they will give, and then go and sell to a Dane
for six deniers more.6
At the Danish free port itself, the greatest part of the shipping entering
were “American vessels, small Spanish sloops and boats, and large English
merchantmen”. It was further told that “the Americans brought in provisions,
lumber and shingles, and they took out rum and sugar in return. The Spaniards
exchanged German linens and English manufactured goods &c.&c., – bringing
along much cash from the main land and Porto Rico.” Spaniards smuggled it
into St. Thomas and exchanged it for German linens and British
manufactures. The concentration of bullion and specie in St. Thomas was
meaningful for British interests, as the land and sea forces in the British
Caribbean demanded a steady flow of money, Jamaica often excepted, as it
had its own established sources. It is nearly impossible to give an estimate of
Anglo-Spanish exchanges performed in this way through St. Thomas, but
some contemporary observers guessed that about two millions of dollars per
was carried away from St. Thomas for British destinations on a yearly basis.
British government bills of exchange were often the means of payment for
these shipments of bullion, highly valuable for remittances and facilitation for
international trade.7
It is clear that the Greater Antilles were not the most frequented markets
by St. Barthélemy vessels. Another area where it did not register prominently
were the British colonies (See Figures 4.3 and 4.4). In a rare compilation of
statistics concerning the commerce of British free ports, the tonnages and
values of shipping entering the British Caribbean are covered for the years
1788–95. Very little tonnage from Swedish, Danish or Dutch colonies entered
during the years for which there is any data. Tonnage is of course a very crude
measurement, but the valuations of cargoes do not suggest any differing

6 Pennsylvania Gazette, 1 April 1795; McDonald, “The Chance of the Moment”, 463–464; See also
James Alexander Dun, “’What avenues of commerce will you, Americans, not explore!’
Commercial Philadelphia’s vantage onto the early Haitian revolution,” The William & Mary
Quarterly 62, no. 3 (2005), 473–504.
7
For the contemporary accounts, see Nissen, Reminiscences, 9, 40, 60–61; and John P. Knox, A
historical account of St. Thomas (New York: Scribner, 1852.), 100–01; for the Anglo-Spanish trade
through St. Thomas see Pearce, British Trade with Spanish America, 148, 201; cf. Craton, “Vice
Admiralty Courts,” 212, 267.
185
Figure 4.3 Tonnage of shipping entering at the British Caribbean free ports, 1788–95
Sources: Customs 17/10–17 TNA; Adrian J. Pearce, British Trade with Spanish America, 1763–1808 (Liverpool: Liverpool University
Press), 262.
186 Figure 4.4 Total registered value of imports from foreign colonies and the United States to the
British Caribbean free ports, 1792–95
Sources: Customs 17/14–17, TNA; Sources: Customs 17/10–17 TNA; Adrian J. Pearce, British Trade with Spanish America, 1763-
1808 (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press), 26.
187
conclusion. By 1794, the British free port system had been made perpetual for
Jamaica, Dominica, Grenada and Nassau in the Bahamas. The free ports had
been envisioned as conduits for the Anglo-Spanish trade as well as
competitors to neighboring foreign free ports. Instead, the evidence from the
last decade of the eighteenth century shows that the British free ports had
become depots for North American goods, something which legislators in
Whitehall certainly never had had in mind. American tonnage as well as cargo
value far outweighed any other nations before and after the war. Danish and
Swedish ships had a minuscule share in this trade. This fact is unsurprising, as
the goods that were reshipped from St. Thomas or St. Barthélemy had their
primary origin in the United States as Americans could carry their
merchandise into British harbors directly themselves, there was no particular
need for neutral middlemen in this particular branch of trade.8
Gustavia, the United States, and the revolutionary French Caribbean
As St. Barthélemy-affiliated commerce seemed to be conspicuously absent
from most of the region during the first few years of the war, it is interesting
that an anonymous author stated in The Report of Saint Bartholomew that the
island “had become an outpost, or kind of depository and ware-house for the
American West-India commerce”9
during the same time. In order to explain
this, figures for the American trade with St. Barthélemy must be considered.
Figures 4.5–7 contain official estimates of American exports to Caribbean
colonies. These export statistics are compiled from reports of the US
Secretary of Treasury, printed in American State Papers, VII, Class 4: Commerce
and Navigation (Washington, D.C., 1832). Early US trade statistics such as
these have garnered a mixed reputation, but they stand as the only foreign
trade data for this period, and researchers have thus been obliged to use them.
Furthermore, most of the recognized inaccuracies in the statistics occur on

8
For a discussion of the statistical series that these observations are based on, see Pearce, British
Trade with Spanish America, 98–101.
9
”Extracts from M.S. Sketches of a political and commercial review of the island of.
Bartholomew…” in The Report of St. Bartholomew, 15 June, 1811. The text is a brief political and
commercial history of the island, and spanned several numbers, was reportedly written “by a
member of the court of justice”, which almost certainly was Abraham Runnels.
188
the import side. Export values, on the other hand, have been concluded to be
reasonably accurate.10
Taken together, the American exports to the Swedish, Danish, and Dutch
ports from 1793 to 1799 constituted about a quarter of the whole American
export figure to the Caribbean. At best, St. Barthélemy stood for about 5
percent of this commerce, which in itself is not inconsiderable as the volume
of American trade grew prodigiously during the war. From 1795 to 1801 the
average annual value of the goods exported in American bottoms to St.
Barthélemy was $685,000, and the annual value of the imports to American
harbors from St. Barthélemy during the same period, was $500,000.11 Danish
and Dutch ports drew comparably more traffic from the North American
mainland than Gustavia did during the 1790s, but the difference was fairly
uniform up until the years 1798–1799, when exports to Danish and Dutch
ports peaked, totaling 8.5 million dollars together in the year 1799. This trade
never reached these levels again after the Peace of Amiens. Gustavia
meanwhile did not experience the same surge before the turn of the century,
or at least not according to the official statistics.
To explain this difference, the trajectory of the American trade to South
America needs to be elaborated. A large part of the American exports were
directed towards French colonies. US exports to the French Caribbean
exceeded those to the British and Spanish islands during the early years of the
war, from 1793 to 1798. The largest part of these exports could be carried
directly in American bottoms, but there were at least two pressing reasons for
Americans to employ an indirect route to French ports by way of neutral free
ports or neutral flags. One was the increasingly hostile British stance towards
neutral shipping after 1793. The British Orders-in-Council issued the same
year, along with the arrival of admiral Jervis in the Caribbean, signaled the
coming of a time of increasing maritime depredations of British cruisers and

10 It was not until 1820 that United States import values were collected. Official figures for the
years before 1820 were estimated only as late as 1835. For a discussion of the source material, see
for example Douglass C. North, “The United States Balances of Payments, 1790–1860,” Trends in
the American Economy in the Nineteenth Century (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1960), 198–
199; Douglass C. North, The Economic Growth of the United States, 1790 to 1860 (Prentice Hall,
Englewood Cliffs, 1961), 24–25, 270–271; and Coatsworth, “American Trade,” 243–266.
11 Timothy Pitkin, A Statistical View of the Commerce of the United States of America: Its
connections with Agriculture and Manufactures: and an Account of the Public Debt, Revenues,
and Expenditures of the United States (Hartford: Hosmer, 1816), 198–199.
189
privateers alike. Any vessel detained and suspected of carrying French
property or carrying on trade with the French colonies were considered good
prize, and American ships were especially targeted during the early years of
the war.12 The other reason were the deteriorating relations between the two
young republics. Unresolved issues after the American War of Independence
as well as the political course taken by the United States after the Jay Treaty
with Britain led to a state of undeclared war between the United States and
France, also known as the Quasi-War. In practice this meant that American
merchant ships were no longer safe from the hostilities of French privateers.
French privateers were arming in increasing numbers in Guadeloupe after its
recapture from the British in 1794.13
It is important to note that the American trade to the French colonies
contracted at the same time as trade to the neutral ports (Dutch included)
increased in 1799. This was the likely result of an American ban on
commercial intercourse with the French colonies following in the wake of the
Quasi-War. Enterprising American merchants sought to circumvent
domestic legislation by assuming neutral burgher rights, and Danish papers
were very sought after. The Swedish consul Richard Söderström reported
from Philadelphia in 1799 that the U.S. Admiralty Court had recently
concluded a number of cases that had been initiated against “new-made
Danes” engaged in the forbidden French trade. Problems of this kind were
quite serious at this time, and any merchant adventurous enough to try his
luck in this kind of operation was in risk of facing prosecution in US courts.
Söderström had to his relief not received any information about Americans
masquerading as Swedes for the same purpose, and it was thought to be less
common for Americans to assume Swedish burgher rights in this way.14
The case of American trade to the Dutch colonies on the other hand had
less to do with the exploitation of foreign neutrality, but it was also at least

12 Clauder, “American Commerce,” 30–34.
13 Michel Rodigneaux & Hélène Servant, “La guerre de course aux Antilles 1793–1810,” Bulletin de
la Société d’histoire de la Guadeloupe (2005), 13–39.
14 Söderström to von Ehrenheim, 14 May 1799, Diplomatica Americana, vol. 1, SNA.
190
Figure 4.5 Values of American exports to Caribbean and South American colonies, 1790–1808
Sources: John H. Coatsworth, “American trade with European Colonies in the Caribbean and South America, 1790–1812.” The William
& Mary Quarterly 24, no. 2, 248–266; American State Papers, Class IV: Commerce and Navigation, vol. 1, 34, 138, 248, 312, 342, 362, 384,
417, 431, 453, 489, 507, 543, 590, 671, 696, 721, 738, 815.
191
Figure 4.6 Proportions of US exports to Caribbean and South American colonies, 1790–1808
Sources: John H. Coatsworth, ’American trade with European Colonies in the Caribbean and South America, 1790–1812.’ The William &
Mary Quarterly 24, no. 2, 248–266; American State Papers, Class IV: Commerce and Navigation, vol. 1, 34, 138, 248, 312, 342, 362, 384, 417,
431, 453, 489, 507, 543, 590, 671, 696, 721, 738, 815.
192
Figure 4.7 Estimated values of US exports to Swedish, Danish and Dutch ports in the Caribbean,
1790–1808
Source: American State Papers, Class IV: Commerce and Navigation, vol. 1, 34, 138, 248, 312, 342, 362, 384, 417, 431, 453, 489, 507, 543,
590, 671, 696, 721, 738, 815.
193
partly a result of Franco-American trade being circumvented through other
channels than before. Considering the commodity of coffee, statistics would
have that Americans increasingly directed their purchases of coffee to the
Dutch West and East Indies towards the close of the century. It is however
highly probable that a considerable quantity of the coffee coming from the
Dutch colonies in 1798 and onwards had originated somewhere else.
American imports of coffee leaped from 3.9 million pounds in 1797 to more
than 10 million pounds the following years. The Dutch produced coffee in
their Caribbean colonies, but it is impossible that they produced quantities
sufficient to explain this increase. It is more likely that Dutch merchants, as
well as others, reshipped Saint-Domingue coffee and other commodities to
the United States during the Quasi-War.15
Gustavia’s place in the overall scheme of Franco-American trade was
somewhat different. American merchants did indeed resort to Gustavia as a
port of convenience. Expeditions like the ones made by the American brigs
Nancy and Sally from Philadelphia in 1794 and 1795 were examples of such a
scenario. The vessels were owned by the prominent Philadelphia merchant
Stephen Girard. Placed under the command of Captain Paul Post, Nancy was
insured for $3500 and carried a cargo insured for $10,000. The captain if the
Nancy received instructions to make sail for “St. Bartholomew and a market.”
The cargo was not to be sold unless at an advance of 40 percent on the invoice
valuation of $12,639. If this condition was not met, the Captain was to go to
any neutral or other ports not blockaded by belligerents, and sell the cargo
there instead. Girard requested that the brig return with a cargo of green
coffee. Sally also sailed for St. Barthélemy, “or a market in the West Indies”
in December, with a cargo valued at $23,414. Before the latter ship’s departure
for the Swedish colony, she had returned to Philadelphia in November from
Aux Cayes of Saint-Domingue with a cargo of sugar, coffee, and cotton.
Girard, born a Frenchman, had since long specialized in the trade to the
French Caribbean, and at the time of these expeditions, he was heavily
involved in the flour trade to Saint-Domingue as so many other Philadelphia
merchants. Expeditions specifically headed towards St. Barthélemy and other
neutral islands were comparatively rare occurrences in his overall business

15 McDonald, “The Chance of the Moment,” 463–64.
194
operation. Neutral ports as primary destinations made some practical sense.
American traders could make free ports such as Gustavia their first place of
landing, and only then inquire about market conditions, trying to find the
most prudent way of selling their cargo.16
The evidence suggests that reaching greater colonial markets such as
Hispaniola and Cuba safely was more difficult from St. Barthélemy than St.
Thomas, which would entail that merchants basing their ventures from the
island had fewer options. But there was a steady link of cabotage in small and
fast sailing boats to the French colonies of Martinique and Guadeloupe to the
southeast. This kind of traffic was a time-honored institution, as it had been
established and frequently pursued during the inter-war years.17
The relationship between Guadeloupe and St. Barthélemy however
deteriorated very badly as a result of a string of controversies surrounding the
activities of French privateers and citizens caught in legal quandaries in the
Swedish colony. The colonies were economically linked as before, but the
French authorities in Guadeloupe became more and more adamant that the
representatives of the Republic would dictate the terms of the relationship.
In November of 1796, Victor Hugues finally turned completely on the neutral
islands. In an instruction to Bigard, he explained that “it is time for us to put
an end to the violation of neutrality in St. Barthélemy since it is now
populated by our enemies.” He called for the repatriation of all French
citizens now living in St. Barthélemy. All the French-controlled ports,
including the Dutch, he informed Bigard, were now off-limits to Swedish
ships. But, on a conciliatory note, he added that “honest Swedes” could be
offered “all possible assistance” as to the needs of their colony. Bigard was
encouraged to tell the Swedes that their prior help in sheltering “true
Frenchmen” should never be forgotten, and that the French authorities have

16 John Bach McMaster, The Life and Times of Stephen Girard: Mariner and Merchant (Philadelphia:
J.B. Lippincott, 1918), 280; Albert J. Gares, “Stephen Girard’s West Indian Trade, 1789–1812,”
Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography, LXXII (1948), 311–342. At least one of the
expeditions turned awry, as the Nancy never reached Gustavia. She was captured by a French
privateer and taken to Petit Canal, Guadeloupe, where the captain was brought in for a forced
sale of the cargo; Cf. Williams, The French Assault, 257.
17 Öström to Reimers, 10 January 1795, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 169, SNA; Pérotin-Dumon,
”Cabotage, Contraband, and Corsairs,” 64–67.
195
only been “forced to take these measures for the sake of the honor of the
Government they represent.”18
French privateers were thus ordered to steer clear of St. Barthélemy, and
French merchants being found near its waters would no longer enjoy the
protection of the French government. French privateering now spared no
ship, whether American, Dutch, British, Danish or Swedish. It is quite
evident that although Hugues probably felt genuine regret over the measure,
he was eager to root out elements in the free port traffic that did business with
the British colonies. Individual merchants known to have British connections
were often singled out. A case in point was the capture of the Swedish brig
Hedvig, captain Magnus Andersson, in the vicinity of Antigua in 1796, by the
sloop Le Rienzy, captain Bastien Navarre. The brig and its cargo was the sole
property of the house of Röhl & Hansen. The cargo consisted of naval stores,
tar, bar and sheet iron, canvas, lampblack, and red wine. The brig and cargo
was deemed good prize since it had carried contrabands of war, it was stated.19
Especially problematic for Gustavia was that the vital American export
traffic as well as the island’s own ships was preyed upon regularly. The
American consul in Gustavia sent repeated pleas to the Swedish Governor
whenever instances of seized American merchantmen arose. It was not
unusual that American ships were pulled into Gustavia for auctioning by the
French bounty court, even despite Hugues’ orders of 1796. The Governor was
powerless to help with redress, as the French bounty court and Bigard could
not be persuaded in such cases. Even the Swedish government was opposed
to the Swedish court of the island meddling with the French revolutionary

18 The whole section pertaining to St. Barthélemy goes as follows: “Il est temps que nous fassions
cesser la violation de la neutralité à Saint-Barthélemy puisqu’il se peuple de nos ennemis. […]
Vous intimerez le même ordre [de quitter l’île] à tous les corsairs particuliers et autres bâtiments
français, sous peine de leur retirer leur commission et punir le capitaine de désobeissance et aux
bâtiments marchands de perdre la protection du Gouvernement. Tous les ports français et ceux
hollandais sous la protection de la France sont fermés au Suédois pour le commerce et n’y seront
reçus que par relâche pour cause d’avarie. Vous ferez offer […} aux honnêtes suédois, de toute
assistance possible soit en vivres, eau et autres objets pour les besoins de leur colonie. Vous leur
direz que nous ne pourrons jamais oublier que Saint-Barthélemy a été jadis l’asile des vrais
Français, et que nous sommes forces de prendre ces mesures pour l’honneur du Gouvernement
que nous représentons.” Hugues to Bigard, 3 November 1796 (13 brumaire an V), C7A 49, f. 54;
Cf. Rodigneaux, Guerre de course, 101; See also Norderling to SWIC, 12 November 1795, Handel
och sjöfart, vol. 169, SNA.
19 Dreyer to SWIC, 24 December 1796 & 4 July 1797, Fahlberg to SWIC, 25 May 1797, Handel
och sjöfart, vol. 169, SNA; Rodigneaux, La guerre de course, 280–81.
196
authorities. This was illustrated in full force in the case of the American brig
Polly of Portland, captain Joseph Clement. The 182-ton brig had left London
in October of 1796, heading for Norfolk. It was however seized in late March
of 1797 by the French privateer L’Amour de la Patrie and subsequently brought
into Gustavia. Captain Clement’s papers and some of the crew were sent to
Guadeloupe. Af Trolle however then seized the brig, and asked for
instructions from Stockholm regarding the proper course of action. The
measure was disapproved by royal orders, and Gustav IV Adolf decreed that
the vessel and cargo be turned over to the captors. The orders expressed that
there was no provision in the Swedish-American commercial treaty that
necessitated such actions from the Swedish government on the island. This
situation suggests a likely cause why the American exports were at such a low
level in Gustavia compared to the Danish and Dutch ports.20
The French commerce brought in by the bounty court surely compensated
in some part for missing U.S. shipping, which is supported by a comparison of
the rising customs revenues of St. Barthélemy with the estimates of American
exports to the Swedish colony, the former of which were at a low point at the
turn of the century. It is however extremely difficult to arrive at any estimates
of the significance of the French trade. Swedish Governors were officially
quite silent on the matter, but it is clear that they acknowledged it as an
important part of the island economy. Governors entertained a regular
correspondence with French authorities on Guadeloupe regarding
commercial as well as political affairs throughout the period in question.21

This was of course not a situation Swedish administrators were entirely
content with. It was by no means a result of conscious, deliberate policy. The
emigration waves from the French colonies along with the nature of the free
port institution had made St. Barthélemy a kind of French proxy colony.
Certainly the island was bound to be regarded more as a French than Swedish

20 Af Trolle’s report 27 May 1797, SBS 1B:2, SNA; Gustav IV Adolf to af Trolle, 14 September
1797, ES 286, FSB ANOM; William, The French Assault, 287.
21 Wernberg to SWIC, 24 April 1795, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 169, SNA; Norderling to SWIC, 13
July 1795, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 169, SNA; Pérotin-Dumon, “Témoignages,” 17–21. See also the
memoirs of the French privateer captain Jean Landolphe for numerous references to the French
privateer traffic in St. Barthélemy in J.S. Quesne, Mémoires du Capitaine Landolphe, conentant
l’histoire de ses voyages pendant trente-six ans aux côtes d’Afrique et aux deux Amériques (Paris : Betrand,
1832), II: 207, 212, 216, 233, 244.
197
by the British. The French recapture of Guadeloupe in December of 1794 had
already raised eyebrows in the British camp. The island had been in British
hands since the end of April, but had ultimately been overrun by the
combined forces of the French commissaire Victor Hugues, in an action “as
unforeseen as unexpected” for the British. Questions were being raised as to
how the French, now without a single viable bridgehead in the Caribbean to
support such a mission, could have pulled it off. The neutral islands and free
ports in the Caribbean were being viewed with increasing skepticism after
this event, and especially St. Barthélemy was seen as having a decided
partiality to “the French cause”. Rumors and various intelligence reports
about the contacts between neutrals and the French colonies were rampant,
and created sensational reports such as the following excerpt shows:
The moment Pointe-a-Pitre was known to be Recaptured, St. Thomas and
St Bartholomew vomited forth the numerous Partizans that had there
apparently waited for such an Event. Danish and Swedish Bottoms were
devoted to their service and carried up Men, Provisions and warlike Stores
of all Denominations and in return they were busily employed in
Transporting from Pointe-a-Pitre and the out Ports, the rich Booty which
this daring and Succesful Enterprize of the Republicans had recaptured
from Great Britain and from the unfortunate Royalists.22
An event which dispelled any lingering doubts about the collusion between
the French colonies and St. Barthélemy was the affair with the brigantine Le
Courrier. She was captured by a British vessel off of Guadeloupe on the
morning of December 16th, 1794. She was sailing under Swedish colors and
under the command of Aaron Johan du Bordieu, the Swedish place major of
St. Barthélemy. After an inspection, the British officers found enough
incriminating evidence onboard as to send her immediately to the Vice
Admiralty court in Antigua. Three French officers and two British deserters
were found on board, as well as a cargo of gunpowder. The brigantine was
reportedly headed for St. Barthélemy, and was said to have been purchased by
du Bordieu in Pointe-à-Pitre from Victor Hugues. There were a lot of
diverging testimonies regarding the affair. The ship had enough supplies

22 Archibald Gloster, ”Observations upon the conduct of the Neutral Powers in the West Indies
since the Commencement of the War,” 18 April 1795, F.O. 73/20.
198
loaded onboard for a voyage to Europe, and it was told by various witnesses
that the ship either was bound for Gothenburg in order to purchase supplies
for the French colonies, or to France with important despatches. The ship
had originally been a British merchant ship, and had recently been captured
by French privateers. Whatever the reality behind the different allegations,
the case showed that Swedish authorities themselves colluded with the
revolutionary leadership of Guadeloupe. The ship, along with its cargo, was
condemned as good prize in Antigua.23
The place major du Bordieu had in fact been engaged in many expeditions
to the French colonies, parlaying about commercial affairs and running
correspondence between the islands. Swedish shipping from Gustavia had
been running into British vigilance at sea since before the start of the war, as
attested by the bulging dossiers of complaints by merchants and ship-owners
that were sent to Stockholm and London. But after the Courrier affair British
skepticism towards Swedish neutrality turned into outright hostility. Admiral
Jervis promised “execution” to the island of St. Barthélemy.24 The free port
of Gustavia then, after a promising start, was already facing external threats.
That is, the commerce of the island was besieged both by French and British
military action at sea, and its professed neutrality was nullified by the close
ties to the revolutionary French Caribbean. Gustavia’s place in the Caribbean
transit trade during the early years of the war was primarily as a conduit
between Martinique and Guadeloupe and the other markets in the Americas,
primarily the United States. American shipping was however far from
protected in going into Gustavia, which is showed by regular attempts at
redress of American traders in St. Barthélemy. The Swedish authorities were
too heavily influenced by the commissaires of Guadeloupe to address the worst
effects of revolutionary activities and privateering.25
Still, despite the British reports about the collusion between the neutral
islands and the French colonies, the British government did not act before

23 CO 152/77, TNA; Norderling to SWIC, June 30, 1796, Handel och sjöfart vol. 169, SNA; Anne
Pérotin-Dumon, ”Témoignages,” 17–21; Hildebrand, Den svenska kolonin, 276–277; Lydia
Wahlström, Sverige och England under revolutionskrigens början: Bidrag till den Reuterholmska
regeringens historia (Stockholm: Norstedt, 1917), 235–238.
24 Jervis to Bagge, 18 June 1794, FO 73/18, TNA; Bagge to Jervis, 27 June 1794, SBS 1 B, vol. 2,
SNA.
25 Wall to Pickering, 5 August, 24 October & 31 December 1799, M72:1, RG 59, NARA.
199
the formation of the Second League of Armed Neutrality in 1800. Orders
were swiftly sent out the naval stations in the Caribbean to seize the Danish
and Swedish islands, and they were swept up during the summer of 1801
without much resistance. On the morning of the 19th of March 1801, a group
of about 16 sail were spotted far to the south of St. Barthélemy. It was a British
expedition from Antigua which was headed for the island with the goal of
capturing it. The Swedish administration was well aware that British
hostilities might lead to an occupation well before this day, and the French
agents of Guadeloupe had even offered the assistance of two companies for
the defense of the island. The condition was however to surrender the
command of St. Barthélemy, which the Governor, H.H. Ankarheim, could
not accept.26 The British expeditionary force landed on the 20th of March,
and after the exchanges of terms of capitulation, the St. Barthélemy convened
for an emergency meeting where it was decided to accept the British terms
and not to put up any resistance. St. Barthélemy was the first neutral island to
be captured by the British in this year, whereas St. Thomas, St John, St. Croix
and St. Martin were occupied a few weeks after.
4.2 The Transit Trade after the British occupation of 1801
The British lockdown of the neutral islands meant that the transit trade
ground to a halt. Freedom of movement was circumscribed for the colony’s
inhabitants. Confiscations of both private and crown property was quite
widespread despite the efforts of the Governor, and the conduct of British
soldiers were described as that “of pirates and brigands”.27 When the orders
of occupation had been sent from London, it had been stated very clearly that
the seizure would be of a temporary nature. The British had no intention of
keeping the Danish and Swedish islands, and the conflict in Europe was
approaching a temporary truce. Furthermore, in the summer of 1801 after

26 Dundas to Trigge, 14 January 1801, WO 1/90, TNA; Trigge to Dundas, 22 March 1801, WO
1/90, TNA; Duckworth to Nepean, 27 March 1801, ADM 1/323; Ankarheim’s report, 21 March
1801, SBS 1 C, SNA
27 Bergstedt’s memorial, SWIC Minutes 2 September 1803, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 157, SNA.
200
Nelson’s victory in Copenhagen, Denmark, Sweden and Russia started
negotiating with Great Britain about surrendering the policy of armed
neutrality, a process which was completed in the following year.
Arrangements were made for the return of St. Barthélemy after this, and on
the 10th of July 1802 the remaining British forces departed the island. If we
lend full credence to the reports and letters of Swedish officials. The British
left the island in a state of destitution. Many had lost their means of income
and subsistence, especially the urban residents. Meanwhile, the recess from
war did not bring about any immediate prospects for business at the free port.
But this situation would not last longer than twenty months, and in 1803 the
activity in the harbor had regained the same pace as before the occupation.28
The best wide-ranging commercial records in Gustavia during this time is
supplied by the island’s newspaper, which carried a section named ‘Port
Intelligence’ in which were recorded the arriving vessels, their names and
their captains, as well as their previous port of departure and their cargo.
Cargoes were however never enumerated except in the occasional arrivals of
slaves, as shown in chapter 3. It is thus impossible to arrive at an estimation
of quantities and values of cargoes, but the assortment of cargoes can create
some basic understanding of the patterns of trade. Nationalities of ships were
noted for over 80 percent of the arrivals, and the information on the ports of
destination is another instance of uncertainty and vagueness. A majority of
vessels were referred to as arriving from “the Islands”, most certainly meaning
nearby islands in the Lesser Antilles. Despite these considerable limitations,
an analysis of the information contained in The Report of St. Bartholomew can
supply a substantial understanding about the scope, intensity and pattern of
commercial activity through Gustavia during 1804–06.
29

The data suggests a slow recovery of the free port in the wake of the British
occupation (Tables 4.1 and 4.2). A total of 2,708 arrivals are included in a

28 Dundas to Trigge, 16 June 1801, WO 1/90, TNA; Ankarheim’s report, 22 July 1802, SBS 1 C,
SNA.
29 It is possible in some cases to complement this information with the surviving ship manifests
in M 1, FSB, ANOM, which include detailed information on cargoes. These are however far from
complete. The volume contains manifests for 1805, 1809 and 1819. The 1805 manifests are the
most extensive, but still they contain only 95 instances of arrivals and departures, of a total of
1,402 arrivals as recorded for the same year in The Report of St. Bartholomew. For the creation of
the newspaper and its intended use, see SWIC Minutes, 26 March 1804, Handel och sjöfart, vol.
157, SNA.
201
dataset based on the Port Intelligence section of 1804–06. 1805 offers the
most complete figures, and provides a general picture of trade after the
resumption of war. St. Barthélemy-registered ships dominated the traffic
through Gustavia. In 1805, these ships stood for 1,051 arrivals and thus
represented 75 percent of the total. The second largest presence was, as
before, American ships, with 211 arrivals. The Danish and British were also
visible, with 74 and 59 arrivals respectively. Spanish and French vessels landed
infrequently, and others exceedingly were rare, such as Hamburger, Prussian,
and Austrian ships, of which there were a few odd sightings during the years
covered, arriving from various locations in the North Sea. Judging by the
assortment of cargoes, the American ships laying anchor in Gustavia were
invariably the most diverse and in all probability carried the largest cargoes.
The American schooner Diana, captain Engelhardt, arrived from Norfolk in
Gustavia in the fall of 1805 with a cargo consisting of 1,983 feet of lumber,
10,000 shingles, 200 bushels of corn, 10 hogsheads of tobacco, 18 tierces of
nails, 6,000 hoops, 25 barrels of pilot bread, 75 barrels of navy bread and 30
barrels of ship bread, “all American produce”. The totality the cargo was
unloaded and sold, and the Diana proceeded to St. Kitts with a smaller
assortment of wares, 31,254 feet of boards, 50 shooks, 56 headings and 9,780
cypress shingles. The Diana, being one of the few American ships doing
business in Gustavia of which there survives a more detailed record, is also
important as it gives an impression of the size of ships and cargoes involved in
this trade.30
There were good reasons for this kind of variety in a single cargo. It was
mainly aimed at the risk of glutting the small island markets with any one
article of merchandise, but it was also a result of the often haphazard ways in
which the export cargoes were collected on the continent. Goods were often
bought at a number of locations on the North American coast before an
expedition had assembled a viable cargo. Thus, American ships would traverse
various suitable islands, gather intelligence about market and price conditions
and sell parts of their cargoes as they went whenever suitable. In time, their

30 Manifest of the schooner Diana, signed Gustavia, 5 November 1805, M 1, FSB, ANOM. The
same vessel apparently made several intra-Caribbean round-trips during the following months,
arriving again in Gustavia on the 14th of November and the 24th of December, in ballast on both
occasions. See The Report of St. Bartholomew, 21 November, 1805 and 25 January, 1806. The initial
arrival from Norfolk was not recorded in the Report.
202
outward cargo would be sold and their holds laden with a return cargo of
colonial goods. Still, in some cases, a single stop was enough if conditions were
favorable. This was the case for the Alexandrian schooner Sampson, captain
Jesse Cox, which landed in Gustavia in early July of 1805, negotiated its cargo
of 566 barrels of flour, 60 half-barrels of crackers, 42 bags of bread, 10,000
shingles and could return to Alexandria loaded with 58 casks and 140 barrels
of muscovado sugar.31
Table 4.1 Gustavia arrivals, Flags of Vessels, 1804–1806
1804* 1805 1806**
Total Ballast Total Ballast Total Ballast
Sweden 199 83 1,051 576 401 211
USA 37 1 192 19 49 7
Denmark 25 12 74 35 9 9
Great Britain 8 3 59 21 32 10
France 5 – 7 3 9 2
Spain 10 2 8 4 – –
Other/Unknown 513 – 11 – – –
Table 4.2 Gustavia arrivals, Ports of departure, 1804–1806
1804* 1805 1806**
Total Ballast Total Ballast Total Ballast
Caribbean 640 102 1,426 651 468 237
North America 91 – 102 – 31 –
South America 32 – 19 9 1 –
Europe 20 – 26 1 4 –
Africa 1 – 3 – – –
Other/Unknown 3 – 8 4 3 3
*Figures are limited to March 25 – December 30, 1804.
**Figures are limited to January 1 – June 16, 1806.
Source: Wilson dataset on the transit trade of St. Barthélemy and St. Thomas (2015);
The Report of Saint Bartholomew 1804, 1805 & 1806.
The mainstay of American exports was flour, nearly half of the ships carried
some quantity of it with them. Victuals unsurprisingly comprised the bulk of

31 Manifest of the schooner Sampson, signed Gustavia 22 July 1805, M 1, FSB, ANOM.
203
the American produce carried to Gustavia. Corn, corn- and rye meal, rice,
barley, peas, beans and onions were some of the most usual agricultural
products carried. As for proteins, bovine, dairy and pork products far
outweighed fish proportionally in terms of occurrence in cargoes. Derivatives
of the fishing industry were far more common than fish itself, such as
different oils, fats and tallows as well as spermaceti candles. Besides
provisions, American holds were filled with essentials for construction,
shipbuilding and the Caribbean export economy. Lumber, boards and
especially shingles were well represented, as well as shooks, staves and hoops
for making indispensable barrels for exportation. Masts, spars, pitch, tar and
cordage were sparse imports, present only in a few odd ships. There was also
a small proportion of tobacco as well as wine, Madeira and other spirits
imported. Presumably the tobacco had its origins in Virginia as it was a
common American staple, but liquors other than rum were likely to be reexports.
In general it can be said that cargoes carried with American ships would
seem to have been mostly American in origin. Official American estimates
recorded the share of foreign to domestic produce exported on American
ships from 1803 onwards, and these figures display that American produce
outweighs re-exports in the trade to St. Barthélemy. In 1804, the proportion
of American to foreign produce exported to St. Barthélemy was 70.3 percent,
in 1805 66.5 percent and in 1806, 65.2 percent. The remaining shares of foreign
re-exports consisted, in most part, by British and other European
manufactures. The Gustavia records and manifests cannot reveal any details
about this trade, as manufactures were nearly always concealed behind the
ubiquitous, catch-all category of dry goods. The relatively high share of
foreign re-exports might also be a consequence of the more mixed and
itinerary American trade to neutral islands, as opposed to the trade to British
colonies, for example. In every year from 1803 to 1812, domestic American
exports accounted for more than 89 percent of all US exports to the British
Caribbean. These figures reflect the degree of the British naval presence in
the Caribbean and the fact that British merchants were well situated to
204
maintain commercial contact with their colonies without resorting to neutral
carriers on a larger scale, at least when it came to manufactured goods.32
Figure 4.8 Ports of departure of arriving American ships,
1804–06
Source: The Report of Saint Bartholomew 1804, 1805 & 1806. Wilson dataset on the
transit trade of St. Barthélemy and St. Thomas (2015).
Looking at geographic provenience (Figure 4.8), the majority of American
ships unsurprisingly came from two large commercial centers on the North
American seaboard, New York and Philadelphia. Together they represented
33.7 percent of the American shipping that landed in Gustavia during 1804–

The Chesapeake region was generally well represented, and ships also
came from Saco, Salem, Georgetown, New Bern, Newburyport, Savannah and
Swansborough. Thirteen of the American arrivals had not departed directly
from US ports, but came from various Dutch and French ports.
The Swedish ships were a different matter altogether. They carried into
Gustavia considerably smaller assortments of goods. Barthélemy ships
consisted generally of small sloops and schooners, utilized mainly in the intra-

32 American State Papers, Class IV: Commerce and Navigation, vol 1, 590, 671, 696. For total
values, see Figures 4.10 and 4.11; Coatsworth, “American Trade”, 256.
0
5
10
15
20
25
30
35
40
45
50
205
Caribbean trade with islands in the Lesser Antilles. They carried any range of
goods, but the emphasis was clearly on colonial staple goods; sugar, coffee,
rum and cocoa. Of all the Swedish ships, 49.5 percent arrived with some
quantity of sugar. Judging by the available information, the return cargoes to
Gustavia from the island trade could be exceedingly small. On the 26th of July
1805 Francisco de la Rosa, master of the small schooner Sally, signed a
manifest declaring an outward cargo of building materials, lime, nails, hinges
and padlocks bound for Guadeloupe. Before his departure he had come from
the same island with a cargo of 20 barrels of muscovado sugar. Captain de la
Rosa plied Caribbean waters quite regularly during the course of the year, as
his ship arrived at least six times from other islands, carrying at all times
carrying some cargo of either sugar, coffee, cotton or wine. In late December,
the Sally arrived from as far away as Curaçao with campeche wood and coffee.
The ship and its voyages is a good example of the small-scale cabotage traffic
that had its base in neutral islands. She was a small schooner, measuring only
10 lasts, and was at least in the nominal ownership of Gustaf Norgren, one of
the few Swedish-born merchants on the island.33
The overall pattern of Swedish and American vessels would seem to
support the basic assumption that American ships arrived from the North
with victuals, timber products and other necessaries which could be sold in
St. Barthélemy for return cargoes of colonial staples. These staples would then
in turn have to have been collected from mostly nearby islands in the Lesser
Antilles by small Swedish ships that sailed unceasingly throughout the year.
However, Swedish ships landed with no cargo with a very high frequency.
Nearly half of all Swedish vessels arrived in Gustavia in 1805. It is therefore
not that easy to suppose that Gustavia functioned only as a market where
American exports and colonial products changed hands. St. Barthélemyregistered ships must have made a significant amount of intra-Caribbean
trading expeditions without the intention or final outcome of bringing
colonial staples to trade in Gustavia. Issued sea-passes for these vessels were
comparatively high for the years 1804–06. In 1805, 180 passes were issued.

33 Manifest of the schooner Sally, signed Gustavia, 26 July 1805, M 1, FSB, ANOM; Wilson
dataset on the transit trade of St. Barthélemy and St. Thomas (2015); Passport of the Sally issued
to Norgren in The Report of St. Bartholomew, 21 June 1806; Possibly the ex-Governor Bagge could
have been her owner and Norgren only an agent, as a newspaper advertisement in the Report of
St. Bartholomew, 15 March 1806, stated that Norgren had been employed by Bagge.
206
Combining this information with the data on arrivals, we can come to the
conclusion that the minimum median amount of voyages St. Barthélemyvessels made in this year lay between 5 and 6. It is therefore far from
impossible to suppose that these ships maintained commercial connections
between other Caribbean colonies. A retrospective published in The Report of
St. Bartholomew described exactly this more than five years later:
It was reserved to the present times [after the peace of Amiens] to exhibit
the novel, and not uninteresting sight of a close maintenance of all the
relations of amity and commerce in the midst of war, between the colonies
of France, and (some of those) of England, by means of the Swedish flag. In
this intercourse National obligations, were not always regarded as strong
enough to supersede the weightier considerations of personal Friendship,
or private emolument, and it was not unfrequently extended to articles of
contraband; for which unhappy Neutrals, would have been severely
trounced.34
In the short recess from war in 1802–03, British merchants had begun trading
very actively with French colonies. The sudden resumption of hostilities left
merchants of both belligerent nations with many unresolved affairs and
dependencies on the wrong side of enemy lines. Additionally, the mutual
benefits derived from this commerce left many unwilling to abstain from it in
the future. Neutral flags such as the Swedish and Danish furnished the means
of prolonging this trade, even if it was officially outlawed. It was therefore not
surprising to see, as observers did during this time, “many of the British
droghing vessels […] metamorphosed into Swedish ones.” The practice of
buying and registering vessels in the names of others therefore continued
among Gustavia burghers with renewed and increased frequency. Many
Swedish vessels returning to Gustavia, then, seldom visited their home port
for the purpose of bringing goods to market, but to renew their sea-passes.
Even during these years Swedish vessels were not as numerous as Danish St.
Thomas-registered vessels, but the picture was far removed from the onesided dominance of Danish vessels in the neutral Caribbean trade of the late
1790s. Swedish neutral shipping was a more prominent presence than before.

34 “Extracts from M.S. Sketches of a political and commercial review of the island of.
Bartholomew…” in The Report of St. Bartholomew, 3 August, 1811.
207
This probably had a lot to do with the extension of navigation rights issued in
1803, which abolished the old prohibition on vessels larger than 20 lasts. Still,
the St. Barthélemy-registered vessels could not make sail for European
destinations other than Sweden, which explains the almost non-existent
outward commerce to Europe. On an inward route, there arrived 20 ships
from European ports in 1804, followed by 26 ships in 1805. There were some
merchants in Gustavia who had connections to port cities in the North Sea
and the Mediterranean. But they were obliged to freight their expeditions
under a different flag, not uncommonly American. But this was a costly a
circuitous way of doing business, and explains why merchants based in
Gustavia did not do a lot of direct business with European markets.35
While it is certain that the largest share of the Swedish-flagged transit
trade consisted of different sorts of round-trips to Caribbean colonies, it is
impossible to discern which colonies were frequented the most because of the
ambiguities in the records. Only 290 out of 2,356 ships landing in Gustavia
from Caribbean destinations were supplied with specific information on the
port of departure. Yet, with the information in these, it seems to be clear that
Swedish neutral shipping was directed mostly to smaller British and French
islands in both the Windward and Leeward islands. The connections to
Martinique and Guadeloupe continued, and there were a considerable share
of shipping from Antigua, Anguilla and Barbados. Overall, there were not
many locations in the wider Caribbean that were not represented in these
arrivals, but colonies such as Cuba, Hispaniola, Jamaica and Puerto Rico were
not regular, established destinations.36
Colonial Blockades and a Brief End to Swedish Neutrality
A significant turn came when formal Swedish neutrality ended when Sweden
entered the Third Coalition against Napoleon in 1805. This fact had its
consequences for the trade between St. Barthélemy and the French colonies

35 “Extracts from M.S. Sketches of a political and commercial review of the island of.
Bartholomew…” in The Report of St. Bartholomew, 3 August, 1811; SWIC Minutes, 2 September
1803, Handel och sjöfart, vol. 157.
36 Wilson dataset on the transit trade of St. Barthélemy and St. Thomas (2015).
208
in the region. There was however no immediate backlash. Instead, the usual
informal relations between the islands continued. On 11 July 1806 a formal
letter was received in St. Barthélemy from General Ernouf, the Governor of
Guadeloupe, informing the Swedish council of the recently declared FrancoSwedish War. The French generals and colonial officials continued to
entertain a friendly disposition towards the Swedish island despite the war.
General Villaret of Martinique had protected Swedish ships laying in the
harbor of St. Pierre, in the face of demands by Jérôme Bonaparte to confiscate
them during a visit to the island. French privateers that had ventured to
capture Swedish vessels early on in the conflict were disappointed to see that
they were promptly restituted to their owners and allowed free passage.
Villaret, for instance, had even allowed the remaining Swedish vessels to hoist
French colors and return safely to Gustavia. Ernouf likewise stalled any
possible hostile measures, keeping the official declaration under wraps for
several months after having received information about it.37

The attitude maintained by French officials after the declaration of war
was to a certain extent a result of some calm and sober considerations. The
limited usefulness of molesting a colony from which there was not much to be
feared was one aspect, and the increasingly precarious state of the French
colonies in the Caribbean was another. The threat of a British landfall was
beginning to be very real. But the non-hostile course taken by Ernouf and
Villaret also speaks a great deal about the utility of a neutral free port to the
French colonies in the Lesser Antilles. Ernouf revealed as much in a
communication to the Minister of the Navy and the Colonies, in which he
cited the need for an access to neutral entrepôts, and St. Barthélemy was in
this respect a much safer and close alternative than St. Thomas. He also made
a point of the fact that a large share of the population in the Swedish colony
was French, and that the merchants of St. Barthélemy were both by their
connections as well as their birth closely bound to France and were “real
agents for our colonies”.38
But this mutual understanding in the region was not any real guarantee for
keeping up previous commercial engagements, as no one was convinced that

37 Ernouf to Ankarheim, 7 July 1806, SBS vol. 1 C, SNA.
38 Ernouf to Decrés, 1 October 1806, Col. C7A 65, fols. 57–59, ANOM.
209
this sort of relationship would be tenable in the long run. British watchfulness
was one factor that worked against it. After the declaration of war, a British
frigate paid a visit to Gustavia, and its commanding officers offered to land a
garrison of British soldiers and to post a maritime patrol around the island’s
waters to protect the island from an impending French invasion from
Guadeloupe. This visit and its implications sent a wave of panic among the
Gustavia merchants long since associated with the Guadeloupe trade. The
merchants interpreted the British offer only as a pretext for widespread
confiscations of French merchandise, bearing of course the late occupation in
mind. Concerned inhabitants pleaded with Governor Ankarheim to dispatch
a messenger to Guadeloupe to ascertain the truth behind the rumors of an
alleged invasion. In Basse-Terre there were similar signs of public outrage, as
many owned property in Gustavia either in their own names or through
naturalized relatives living in the free port. Few, it was claimed, did not have
any sort of connections or outstanding debts or payments due in the Swedish
colony. The rumors about an invasion were ultimately proved to be entirely
false, and General Ernouf believed them to be fabricated by British sources,
created in order to ensure British control of St. Barthélemy. Such hearsay did
its harm, however, and ensured that the formerly stable bonds between St.
Barthélemy and the remaining colonies under French rule began to
deteriorate. People started to leave Gustavia in droves, and there was a visible
drain of vital capital as a result. The formal declaration of war finally came in
early September from Guadeloupe, and from that time the shaky balance in
Franco-Swedish relations was gone. French privateers were again a real threat,
and their presence outside the road of Gustavia was duly noted in the
Governors’ increasingly somber reports. A few merchants, it was told, even
had procured Danish flags at exorbitant rates in a desperate attempt to gain
protection from French seizures.39
Faced with this situation, Gustavia officials and merchants began to
scramble for solutions. Urged by a petition of remaining burghers and
merchants, Ankarheim decided to negotiate with the commanding generals
on Guadeloupe and Martinique. The idea was to try to convince them of
respecting St. Barthélemy as a neutral island. After all, this was not a

39 Ernouf to Ankarheim, 18 January, 4 July, 9 July, 12 July & 1 October 1806, 2 January 1807, SBS
1C, SNA.
210
phenomenon new to a wartime Caribbean. St. Martin had served this function
for both French and British vessels during the American War of
Independence, it was argued. Ankarheim was sure the French side would
agree, but was wary of waiting for royal acceptance of this arrangement from
Stockholm. In the present situation, he claimed, the allied British were
causing more harm to the island than the French, as the former continued
seizing and condemning vessels engaged in the inter-island trade, while the
latter allowed some measure of dispensation. Nevertheless, both Ernouf and
Villaret could not stretch their authority to accept this sort of agreement, and
declined in politely articulated letters. While neither party desired any
hostilities, open economic contacts could not be maintained as before.40
Matters would however suddenly come to a head because of some
burgeoning commercial transactions between St. Barthélemy merchants and
newly independent Haiti. In the United States, pronounced Southern fears
concerning the possible spread of black emancipation to the United States
meant that an American recognition of the new island nation was out of the
question. There were also concerns about the issue of French privateers
seizing American merchant vessels on the trade routes to Haiti since the
declaration of Haitian independence in 1804. France actively pursued an
aggressive policy towards Haitian commerce after the failure to restore
French rule and impose slavery anew on the island in 1802. These
considerations and others led to the final isolation of Haiti by the U.S. in 1807
by means of a trade embargo. Despite the destructive impact of decades of
internecine warfare, Haiti was still considered as an important market by
American merchants. Since Denmark also had issued severe restrictions on
any type of communication with Haiti, St. Barthélemy remained as one of the
few channels through which any commercial adventures to Haiti could be
attempted. One American who ventured to go this way was William Israel.
Israel was one of the wealthiest independent merchants in Gustavia at this
time, and he had set up a correspondence with traders in Haiti for future
expeditions. He had attained burgher documents in Gustavia sometime
around the beginning of the century, he set up a business operation there. In

40 Memorandum signed Anders Bergstedt and Samuel Fahlberg, 24 December 1806, SBS 1 C,
SNA; Petition of 47 Gustavia merchants, 6 December 1806, SBS 1 C, SNA; Ankarheim to Ernouf,
27 December 1806, SBS 22, SNA.
211
1806 he issued sea-passes for at least two vessels, the schooner Leonidas and
the brig Ann and Contempt, of 39 and 36 lasts, respectively.41
It did nevertheless not take long until the French in Guadeloupe caught
wind of these plans, and Ernouf reacted promptly. Lacking regular maritime
forces, he commissioned a few privateers and loaded them with troops for a
hostile expedition to St. Barthélemy, which resulted in the short French
occupation of 1807 mentioned in an earlier chapter. Ernouf’s intention was to
arrest Israel and to seize his property on the island. During the night between
the 11th and 12th of November a detachment of French soldiers landed
clandestinely in a southern cove of the island. The plan was to subdue the
Swedish garrison quickly and then to seize Israel for a quick return with the
spoils. When guards spotted the French forces encroaching the town at night,
a small skirmish soon took place, in which a Swedish soldier was killed before
Gustavia was surrendered. The expedition was a failure insofar as Israel was
never apprehended, but a few of his smaller vessels as well as the contents of
his warehouse, was confiscated. It was reported that it was stocked wall-towall with Haitian coffee. The French occupation was over in less than 24
hours, but the French left the island with the promise of renewed hostilities
if any Swedish burgher was found doing business with Haiti.42

41 Tim Matthewson, ”Jefferson and Haiti,” The Journal of Southern History 61, on. 2 (1995), 234–
238; Congress passed a law already on March 3, 1805, which put restrictions on the trade. As it
turned out, it proved to be only marginally effective, and was subject to revisions until repassed
on February 24, 1807. It expired the next year, but because of the general embargo of December
22, 1807, U.S. trade with Haiti remained illegal until the spring of 1810; Israel’s registrations in
The Report of Saint Bartholomew, 31 January 1807.
42 Ankarheim’s report, 27 November 1807, SBS 1 C, SNA; Forsström to Lindblad, 19 March 1808,
Linköpings stiftsbibliotek, Lindblomska brevsamlingen, vol. 16, 1808:134.
212
5 An Anglo-American Port of
Convenience, 1809–1815
After the British occupation of St. Thomas in 1807, St, Barthélemy
remained as the only neutral free port in the Lesser Antilles. This position did
however not lead to any immediate advantage, as the colony was shook hard
by American Embargo Act of 1807. It had the effect of slowing vital American
imports to a trickle. Strict controls on the exportation of flour and other
foodstuffs were instituted by the island council, and prices on bread were
fixed as an attempt to alleviate starvation among the town’s poor. The second
period of the Napoleonic Wars in the Caribbean was characterized by an
initial spurt of neutral seizures, the provocation of Denmark into war, and the
systematic British conquest of enemy colonies. St. Croix, St. Thomas, and St.
John were seized by the British in December 1807. The occupation of the
Danish islands completely eradicated the trade with the French and Spanish
colonies which had previously existed. Deprived of supplies and outlets for
their produce, the French colonies were now highly vulnerable, and all were
occupied almost at will by British forces between 1807 and 1810. SaintDomingue’s export sector had all but been destroyed by civil warfare during
the preceding decades. Dutch Curaçao was also occupied in 1808. Other
conflicts ended, such as when the Anglo-Spanish War was concluded in July
1808, and an eventual Anglo-American war was only staved off momentarily
by the assimilation of belligerent colonies with which the Americans could
trade. Anglo-American relations steadily deteriorated as Americans were
increasingly dissatisfied with the British blockade of the European continent,
as well as with the virtual monopoly which the British now exercised on trade
in the Caribbean. Violations of U.S. neutrality also continued, and the U.S.
Congress finally responded to the mounting conflicts with commercial
warfare. The Embargo Act was signed into law on December 22, 1807 and
lasted until 1809. The idea behind the embargo was to chasten Great Britain
and France and impose economic hardships on them as belligerents. The
213
embargo however turned out to be counterproductive, and was in the end an
economic and diplomatic failure.1
A few crafty American merchants still found ways to evade the embargo
and reached St. Barthélemy from time to time. Unscrupulous shippers found
a loophole in the original embargo act by the requirement that goods loaded
and cleared for a coasting voyage had to be landed in an American port,
“dangers of the sea excepted.” An example of an exploitation of this kind was
the case of the American brig James Wells, which had left New York with a
cargo of more than 1200 barrels of flour on the 26th of February 1808. The ship
was cleared for St. Mary’s in Georgia, but on account of foul weather and the
leaky condition of the ship, the supercargo, who was also the owner, declared
that he was obliged to put into Gustavia. Once there, he declared that he had
to land his cargo because it was damaged, and afterward, since the island
council had forbidden the export of provisions, he was forced to sell his flour.
It must be added that the affair ended most opportunely for him due to the
prevailing shortage of imports, as he could sell his flour at a very high price.
Once back on American soil, the owner of the James Wells was prosecuted and
the case finally came before the Supreme Court. The evidence showed that
the supercargo’s explanations were either bogus or unfounded, as the ship
apparently had made no effort to reach an American port, and the vessel was
therefore condemned.2
Aside from the American embargo, British men-of-war were now
patrolling outside the road of Gustavia against the French, effectively
blockading the little commercial traffic that was left. British cruisers seized
in- and outgoing ships during this time, even Swedish-flagged vessels despite
the protection agreement between the Swedish council and Admiral
Cochrane. This quickly prompted an outcry among town merchants. Faced
with this situation, Governor Ankarheim wrote Cochrane in August 1808 and
called for the removal of British protection, as Gustavia now stood, as he put
it, “near the brinck of ruin”. The British cruisers eventually complied with

1
Craton, “Vice Admiralty Courts,” 260; Clauder, “American Commerce,” 132–47.
2
Brig James Wells vs. U.S., 11 U.S. 22 (1812); Clauder, “American Commerce,”136.
214
Ankarheim’s request and departed.3
In short, 1808 passed as a dismal year for
St. Barthélemy, but things were soon to change.
5.1 The Non-Intercourse Act of 1809
The immediate source of reversed fortunes was that the American Embargo
ended in 1809 and was supplanted by the Non-Intercourse Act. Thus the
previous, partial non-importation policies were supplanted by a complete ban
on all British goods, on all British colonial produce, and on all import from the
French Empire or occupied territories. British and French ships were
completely shut out of American harbors as well. American ships were not
permitted to go to British and French ports. This was the last step in the
efforts of the US government against the maritime depredations against its
merchant fleet. The plan was appended with a promise of forgiveness in
return for the abandonment of the French decrees or the British Orders-inCouncil insofar as they violated the neutral commerce of the United States.4
American Non-Intercourse entailed some immediate and interesting
consequences for St. Barthélemy. It has been pointed out that the limited
freedom granted to American ships in the Act “bedeviled the whole plan”.
When the Embargo was lifted in mid-March, American merchantmen cleared
for permitted foreign ports, usually ones that previously had been more
unusual destinations. Gothenburg, Tönningen, and other Scandinavian ports
burst into popularity. In the West Indies, St. Barthélemy was “inundated with
spring cruisers”.5
Albert Gallatin had correctly foreseen this effect, as
explained in a letter to Jefferson. His belief was that the “true effect” of the
lifting of the total embargo “would be to open an indirect trade with Great
Britain, which, through St. Barthlomolomew and Havana, Lisbon, Cadiz, or

3
Ankarheim to Cochrane, 10 August 1808, SBS 1C, SNA; Ankarheim’s report of 2 September
1808, SBS 1C, SNA.
4
Herbert Heaton, “Non-Importation 1806–1812,” The Journal of Economic History 1, no. 2 (1941):
191–92.
5
Heaton, “Non-Importation,” 192.
215
Gottenburg, would receive […] all the provisions, naval stores and raw
materials” that Britain possibly could want.6

The effects of the Act had also been anticipated in a petition of Gustavia
merchants written to the Swedish council in January 1809. The merchants
very correctly expressed their belief that it was very probable that the Swedish
flag and Swedish territories would “be in the number to be exempted from the
resolutions of that act”. Information and rumors about the Act’s contents had
clearly been disseminated and discussed among the well-informed local
merchants. The prospects of the Act raised both hopes and concerns. On the
one hand, the merchants expected some benefits to arise from the new order
of things, but on the other hand they were worried that the “unthinking”
among the naturalized burghers would be tempted to take out sea registers in
their own names and sell or lend them to Americans, as they had “seen of late
that hardly a single vessel is come to this port with the American Flag, which
has not gone out from it without our own”. They also suggested some
measures be enacted against the expected influx of American flag-changers,
which the council duly accepted. Sea-passes were now restricted to four
months instead of six, African-bound ships excepted. Furthermore it was
decided that sea register applicants be forced to deposit a security bond, at
the same value as the register. The bond was to be forfeited if the register was
not returned within the prescribed time limit.7
By all appearances, the new
restrictions never had the desired effect. It is telling alone that 1809 saw the
record amount of St. Barthélemy sea registers taken out in a single year, 204.
A year later, the Swedish consul in Philadelphia, Richard Söderström,
confirmed the anticipated effects as he reported that the Swedish-flagged
vessels arriving into American ports frequently changed their flags:
[…] the vessels that arrived today under the Swedish trading flag show the
American flag tomorrow […] [they] go from here under the American flag,

6
Gallatin to Jefferson, 9 September 1808, in The Writings of Albert Gallatin, ed. Henry Adams
(Philadelphia: J.B. Lippincott, 1879), 434–45.
7
Merchants’ petition, 23 January 1809, Council Minutes, 1 February 1809, PJ 156, FSB, ANOM.
216
and in 5 or 6 weeks arrive once again from some port under the Swedish
flag.8
It should be noted that the previously French-controlled islands around the
Swedish colony had all come under British control. St. Barthélemy and the
American goods in transit through the port of Gustavia thus posed no kind of
nuisance to the blockading strategy of Britain. Quite the opposite, the
commerce of St. Barthélemy was serving a vital function within a British
economic sphere in the Caribbean. The Swedish colony could transmit much
needed American goods to the British colonies which they were no longer
able to receive directly from U.S. ports. From his vantage point in New York,
the Swedish consul Henrik Gahn noted the worsening of relations between
the United States and Britain. He also noted that the Non-Intercourse Act
made Swedish carrying capacity and commodities desirable in American
ports. In particular, he thought, St. Barthélemy would benefit, as the
American vessels would be able to unload their cargoes there.9
The American
traffic had appeared in Gustavia in full force beginning in April 1809. In fact,
there were so many ships arriving each day that the customs inspector
Furuträd became overwhelmed with the growing size of his daily tasks. He
stated that on the first eleven days of the month, 86 American ships had
arrived, not counting other ships from the surrounding islands. He did not
think it within his means to accurately register each and every ship in the
customs journals, and requested additional assistance in his chores to avoid
any losses to the crown.10
Americans engaged in the transit trade through Gustavia during this time
employed all manners of methods to defraud customs and to avoid additional
costs. It was observed by local merchants and officials alike that Americans
tended to arrive with their cargoes and arrange sales onboard while anchored,
rather than perform the required unloading, selling, and loading of goods.
William Israel, who had received a commission as American consul on St.

8
Söderström to the Board of Trade, 28 April 1810, E VI aa 374, Huvudarkivet,
Kommerskollegium, SNA; Müller, Consuls, Corsairs, and Commerce, 210–211.
9
Gahn to the Board of Trade, 25 November 1809, E VI aa 352, Huvudarkivet,
Kommerskollegium, SNA; Müller, 211–212.
10 Furuträd’s memorial 12 April 1809, PJ 157, FSB, ANOM.
217
Barthélemy, reported to the Secretary of State that some had instead sold
their cargoes at interdicted ports, and only arrived at Gustavia to obtain
certificates of landing as to mask their real commercial destination. Many
Americans, he wrote, even sported fictitious names in official dealings.
Though they often confessed regret of their conduct before the American
consul, they claimed that the current times required a certain attitude and
that especially the northern merchants who dealt in fish would be the “most
firm supporters of the Laws” in the future when other circumstances would
allow them to.11
Even if the heavy traffic and obvious frauds led to some inevitable profits
evading the council coffers, the year of 1809 was unlike any other preceding
year in terms of commercial gain for the Swedish crown. The windfall from
customs revenues that year yielded 107,778 Spanish dollars, as opposed the
previous annual average of 15,600 Spanish dollars. The corresponding official
estimates of American exports to St. Barthélemy for the same year was over $
3,600,000 (See Figures 5.1 and 5.2). Compared to the earlier decades, the
Swedish crown was now raking in prodigious profits from the transit trade
through the port of Gustavia. The simple explanation for this is because the
American shipping had few other entry points to Caribbean markets except
for Spanish ports. Curaçao and St. Thomas, who had previously enjoyed a far
larger share of the American exports throughout the years 1790–1807, were
now under British lockdown. How and why did St. Barthélemy escape British
occupation during the remainder of the European conflicts? Surely, an
occupation would not have been any less simple than before, and it would have
snuffed out another subterfuge for American shipping. Diplomatic relations
between Sweden and Britain in 1809 were indeed strained and complicated.
The fragile alliance was held upon the fact that Sweden was very much
dependent upon the British crown, its only ally at the time. The British also
had much to gain from keeping trade links to the Baltic open during the war.
France was a common enemy as well. This changed after the 1809 coup against
Gustav IV Adolf and the subsequent Treaty of Paris, as the Swedish
diplomatic trajectory shifted towards a friendly stance against France, which
in effect forced a formal declaration of war against Britain in November 1810.

11 Israel to Smith, 26 April 1809 and 23 July 1809, M72, RG 59, NARA.
218
Figure 5.1 Values of American exports to Caribbean and South American colonies, 1790–1820
Sources: John H. Coatsworth, ’American trade with European Colonies in the Caribbean and South America, 1790–1812.’ The William
& Mary Quarterly 24, no. 2, 248–266; American State Papers, Class IV: Commerce and Navigation, vol. 1, 34, 138, 248, 312, 342, 362, 384,
417, 431, 453, 489, 507, 543, 590, 671, 696, 721, 738, 815, 869, 965, 994, 1023; vol. 2, 22, 55, 95, 158, 388, 469.
219
Figure 5.2 Proportions of American exports to Caribbean colonies, 1790–1820
Sources: John H. Coatsworth, “American trade with European Colonies in the Caribbean and South America, 1790–1812.” The William
& Mary Quarterly 24, no. 2, 248–266; American State Papers, Class IV: Commerce and Navigation, vol. 1, 34, 138, 248, 312, 342, 362, 384,
417, 431, 453, 489, 507, 543, 590, 671, 696, 721, 738, 815, 869, 965, 994, 1023; vol. 2, 22, 55, 95, 158, 388, 469.
220
Still, this amounted only a fictitious conflict, and diplomatic and commercial
channels between Britain and Sweden remained as open as before.12
This might do well to explain why St. Barthélemy was spared any further
British hostilities, but regional circumstances should also be considered.
When St. Thomas was occupied by the British Navy in December of 1807,
vociferous complaints were voiced by interested assemblies of British
merchants. Complaints were made by a sizable group of British merchants
trading to St. Thomas, and showed that it was British and not Danish
commerce which was made to suffer by the recent takeover. The island had
acted as a leading entrepôt for trade between the Britain and Spanish
colonies. During the war years 1796–1802, St. Thomas was a focal point of the
British slave trade with the Spanish colonies. But the main concern on the
event of its capture was the British textile trade to the Spanish Main, which
had employed St. Thomas extensively as a base of operations. The merchants
protested the ruinous consequences of stifling British annual exports
amounting “to a sum almost incredible”. They also observed that a great deal
of the seized property on the Danish island in fact belonged to British
subjects. St. Thomas was not, however, granted the status of British free port,
as had been the case with other conquered foreign islands previously involved
in the trade with the Spanish colonies, such as Curaçao. Instead, St. Thomas
was allowed only to partake in the much more restricted licensed trade.13
The Americans, meanwhile, were finding themselves increasingly shut out.
The diplomatic situation between the UK and the US had since the NonIntercourse Act become critical, and relations were also still being worsened
by continuing seizures of American vessels. The tension was only eased by the
abrogation of many of the objectionable clauses of the British Orders-in-

12 The growing North American share in the Spanish regional economy of the Americas, see for
instance Jacues A. Barbier, “Silver, North American pentetration and the Spanish imperial
economy, 1760–1800,” in The North American role in the Spanish Imperial Economy, ed. Jacques A.
Barbier and Allan J. Kuethe (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1984), 6–12.; Cf: Fischer,
Economic Aspects of Spanish Imperialism, 197–216; Regarding the war between Great Britain and
Sweden, seeUlf Sundberg, Svenska krig 1521–1814 (Stockholm: Hjalmarsson & Högberg, 1998),
391–93.
13 The merchants calculated a value of £210,000 in British exports to St. Thomas in 1807 alone,
see B.T. 1/37 No. 31. Memorial of merchants trading to St. Thomas, 5 October 1807; B.T. 1/37 No.

Memorial of merchants of Lancaster trading to St. Thomas, 3 October 1807; Armytage, 87;
Pearce, British Trade, 201–202; Armytage, The Free Port System, 103.04.
221
Council by the General Orders of 13 March, 1809. Another means of British
détente was that the virtual British monopoly on trade in the Caribbean had
the useful effect of decreasing the number of American seizures necessary to
maintain the British blockade of Napoleon’s Europe. After 1808, the business
of the Caribbean Prize Courts grinded down to a pause, especially after orders
were received to restore American vessels that were already seized.14
Given that the Caribbean was now effectively under British imperial
control, a small American trade was deemed tolerable, indeed it was seen as
beneficial, as British colonies still were far from solving their chronic problem
of undersupply. St. Barthélemy, in this situation, assumed the role of a
convenient conduit for Anglo-American trade, a subterfuge which allowed
some exchange between the belligerents. An editorial notice in a January
number of The Report of Saint Bartholomew was quite open about the prevailing
order:
That the British navigation act is strictly followed in some of the British
Islands, is very true; but it is as true, that English vessels carry American
produce from hence to British islands every day, and that even Swedish
vessels with American produce are admitted in some.15
The British were not unaware of the fact that the goods flowing out from St.
Barthélemy were nothing but re-exports from the United States and the
surrounding islands. Governor Elliot of the Leeward Islands, writing in 1811
to the Earl of Liverpool, admitted that if the Non-Intercourse Act between
the United States and Britain been strictly observed and enforced, the British
Leewards would be in dire need of the necessary supply of provisions, lumber
and livestock from North America. St. Barthélemy was the crucial link to
these supplies, but Elliot still was unsure, as many other British officials in the
region, in what view British colonial relations with St. Barthélemy was legally
to be considered, as Sweden was a nation formally at war with Britain, as well
as the “singular” nature of the free port institution of Gustavia, which had
created opportunities for Britain’s enemies in the past.16 Even before Elliot’s

14 Craton, “Vice Admiralty Courts,” 327–328.
15 The Report of St. Bartholomew, 10 January 1810.
16 Elliot to Lord Liverpool, 3 September 1811, C.O. 152/98.
222
inquiries were known at the Foreign Department in London, a dispatch was
planned to be forwarded to him, instructing the Governor that “the same
lenient policy maintained towards Sweden should be pursued towards her
Dependencies in the West Indies”.17
This situation was essential for the economic livelihoods of nearly all
parties concerned. Whereas the British colonists could secure a steady supply
despite the state of war with the United States, merchants of St. Barthélemy
subsisted on the “intercourse with the People of the United States,” and were
“Active or Languid, in proportion to the demands of the British Possessions.”
The Americans, as before, carried provisions and articles of necessity for the
British colonies to St. Barthélemy, where local merchants purchased and
stored them until they could be runned into the British colonies, “in such
small parcels, as either do not attract the Notice of their Revenue Officers.”
American traders, too, were obliged to resort to this scheme even though it
entailed trading with the enemy. The American exports to the West Indies
had quickly plummeted to levels that were prevalent in the immediate postIndependence period. The only markets in left for the Americans to access
were St. Barthélemy as well as the Spanish colonies. The coming conflict with
Great Britain would perpetuate this condition for the remainder of the
Napoleonic Wars.18

17 Smith to Peele, 7 September, C.O. 152/98; Earl of Liverpool to Elliot, 21 September 1811, C.O.
53/34.
18 Quotes from Runnels to Skogman, 31 March 1812, SBS, vol. 2, SNA; Coatsworth, “American
Trade,” 247, 251–54; Clauder, “American Commerce,” 229–32.
223
5.2 The War of 1812
The conflict between the United States and Britain formally began on the 18th
of June 1812, when president James Madison signed the measure into law. The
U.S. declaration of war came as the end-result of American grievances against
Britain for a long period. Ironically, the British government had started to
embark on a more reconciliatory policy towards the United States, and had
issued a repeal on the 11th of May 1812 of past Orders-in-Council aimed
towards neutral trade. The news of the British repeal did however cross the
Atlantic before the declaration of war had been put into effect. Neither side
was particularly well prepared to prosecute the war, and especially Britain
took a very pragmatic course in order not to cramp existing trade
relationships between the North American mainland and British colonies.
The trade on the Canadian-American border in fact flourished during the war,
even when the U.S. government was determined to stamp out trade with the
enemy through commercial sanctions. Even as U.S. leaders still put their faith
in commercial prohibitions, British officials left New England unblockaded
precisely in order to facilitate this trade. At the beginning of the war, British
officials in Canada authorized the export of all goods outright to the United
States, and ordered British subjects in the colonies not to molest the goods or
vessels of American citizens, so long as they did not show any hostility when
encountered.19
The sea-lanes between the North American coast and the West Indies
were exceptions to this general condition. The trade with the enemy was
generally condoned by U.S. authorities as long as it was conducted in neutral
ships: Neutral ships flying Swedish and Spanish colors were known to operate
from the British dominions to U.S. ports. Since the beginning of the U.S.
Embargo policy, the Swedish government was beginning to take notice of the
recent surge in traffic at St. Barthélemy. Official letters from the Colonial
Department reveal both the possible benefits and risks that were expected.
Wary of possible actions from the part of British Admiralty, instructions were
issued to the Swedish Governor, to act, as always, carefully and discretely.

19 Donald R. Hickey, The War of 1812: A Forgotten Conflict (Urbana: University of Illinois Press,
2012), 28–47, 169–170
224
Special attention was given to the policy of issuing sea-passes, officials at the
Department were especially firm on the point of observing the proper
formalities of applications, and to always ascertain that only Swedish burghers
were the true owners of trading ventures under Swedish colors. While these
considerations were stressed, the instructions also carried the argument that
British colonies and their responsive officials would act pragmatically during
the war. In other words, it was expected that a certain measure of clandestine
trade from North America was to be permitted in order to meet immediate
needs.20
In a telling move, the Board of Commerce clearly exploited the situation
by allowing Swedish consuls unprecedented rights to issue certain registers
and ship’s documents in the fall of 1812. The most crucial point was that
American ships were now allowed to be naturalized while anchored in
American ports. In other words, American ships could be sold to Swedish
burghers or their agents in North American ports and apply for Swedish
documents. After this naturalization process, ships were allowed to sail for
Gustavia and obtain the proper sea-pass for further expeditions. In this way
American ships could slip past the British blockade and cruising ships outside
the Continental seaboard.21

While this measure was made to make the most out of the war situation,
the Swedish government was still uncertain as to the British opinion on the
matter. The matter was simply put forward in Britain by the resident Swedish
minister Johann Gotthard von Rehausen, still on location in London despite
the formal state of war between Sweden and Britain. The solicitous response
came in the form of the so-called American Prizes Act of 1 February 1813,
which modified a certain passage of the earlier Orders of 11 November 1807,
which held that belligerents (i.e. Britain’s enemies) could not sell their ships
to neutrals, as they would then be held as good prize. Now, it was decided,
that the Orders would be confined to the ships of France and her overseas
possessions, as this was thought to be “expedient”. The Orders were
personally communicated by Castlereagh to Rehausen. They were forwarded

20 Hickey, The War of 1812, 234; af Wetterstedt to Stackelberg, 12 November 1812, Image 18–19,
vol. 258, Correspondance (C), FSB, ANOM.
21 Af Wetterstedt to Stackelberg, 3 February 1813, Image 29–31, vol. 258, Correspondance (C),
FSB, ANOM.
225
to the Governor in St. Barthélemy, already translated into French from the
English original. He was urged to make these “most fortunate proceedings” as
widely known and public as possible.22
In essence, then, these Orders amounted to nothing less than the tacit
approval from Whitehall of American trade under the Swedish flag.
Moreover, Admiralty had informed its officers stationed in the Caribbean
that the Swedish flag was to be respected at sea. In fact, this had for a longer
time been the prevailing order. Already in early 1812, the U.S. consul Speyer
in Gothenburg informed the Secretary of State of his suspicions:
This government is desirous to draw from that possession [St. Barthélemy]
all the revenues it is capable of yielding and I am induced to believe that
England will not oppose it. – There must doubtless exist a friendly
understanding with that govt., as a number of Swedish merchant vessels,
which had been detained, were given up.23

This dispensation was readily exploited, as shown by the statistics of the
Gustavia customs journals in 1811–1813 (Figures 5.3 and 5.4). Whereas the high
frequency of British and American vessels in Gustavia in 1811–12 reveals an
ongoing breach of the American Non-Intercourse Act, the American vessels
all but disappeared in in 1813, as there were only 35 recorded arrivals as
opposed to 395 during the previous year. In contrast, there was a conspicuous
increase in Swedish arrivals during these years. The corresponding figures for
tonnages reveal, however, that it was probably not only a matter of American
ships merely changing flags, as median tonnages for the Swedish ships in 1813,
for instance, was considerably smaller than their American counterparts, as
an American ship generally measured well above 100 tons, while a Swedish
ship registered in Gustavia was slightly above 30 tons. A total of 39 ships
arrived with “consular papers”, which is nothing other than American ships
that had been naturalized with Swedish documents on the North American
Coast. While the amount of these vessels amounted to only 6 percent of the

22 For the American Prizes Act, se 53 Geo. 3 c. 63; af Wetterstedt to Stackelberg, 20 February
1813, Rehausen’s report, 12 January 1812, C 258, FSB, ANOM.
23 Speyer to Monroe, 8 January 1812, T230, RG 59, NARA.
226 Figure 5.3 Arrivals, St. Barthélemy 1811–1813, by nationality
Source: Extracts from Gustavia customs journal 1811–1813, S:t Barthélemysamlingen (SBS), vol. 26 A, SNA.
227
Figure 5.4 Tonnage of arrivals, St. Barthélemy 1811–1813, by nationality
Source: Extracts from Gustavia customs journal 1811–1813, S:t Barthélemysamlingen (SBS), vol. 26 A, SNA.

228
total arrivals, they nevertheless represented nearly ¼ of the total recorded
tonnage. The business of vessel naturalization was witnessed by Swedish
vessels arriving in the United States from Gothenburg in 1813, who duly
complained about “such a stagnation in shipping in trade” that they were
compelled to return eastwards to Cadiz or Lissabon with small or unprofitable
cargoes. The Swedish vessels proper were prospecting for precisely those kind
of neutral tramp shipping ventures to the Caribbean which American vessels
could obtain Swedish papers for, either through legal channels via Swedish
consuls on the North American Coast or simply through forgery.24
Governor Elliott, who had been cautious in the British intercourse with
regard to the American trade over St. Barthélemy during the years leading up
to the war, now had reason to be less circumspect. Since the trade was
informally condoned, he could take to issuing licenses to British subjects to
consign a ship under any flag, except for France, in order to import necessaries
from any U.S. port. In a license to the Darrell firm of Antigua, he explicitly
included the permission for Darrell’s vessel “to touch at Saint Bartholomews,”
which had the convenient function to allow the ship to clear for a neutral port
while in the United States. Still, while this trade was readily promoted by
British authorities, it should be noted that the value of American exports
from U.S. ports was at an all-time low since independence. The total arriving
tonnage in Gustavia in 1813 had also dropped to about half of the recorded
tonnage of 1812. Turning to official American estimates, 1813 was the most
prominent wartime year for American exports to St. Barthélemy, amounting
to a value of $1,758 862 (Figures 5.1 and 5.2). It can then be deduced that a
small-scale traffic of exports from the North American coast persisted during
war years, or rather was allowed by the British to continue. In the years 1813–
14, as had been the case in 1809, St. Barthélemy was the destination for over
30 per cent of the total, albeit very diminished, American exports to the
region. The Treaty of Ghent on the 24th of December 1814 restored relations
between the United States and Britain, and signaled a slow recovery of the
U.S. trade with the West Indies. The coming peace after the Treaty of Vienna
also began the normalization of affairs in the region, but whereas the

24 von Brinkman to Stackelberg, 30 October 1813, C 258, FSB, ANOM; A copy of the letter is also
found in PJ 172, FSB, ANOM.
229
commerce of St. Barthélemy was concerned, it was the start of a long downhill
development.25

25 License for J. & S. Darrell of Antigua, 2 February 1813, PJ 170, FSB, ANOM; Ernst Ekman has
noted before that St. Barthélemy stood at the receiving end of over 20 percent of U.S. exports in
1814, but explains nothing of the overall trade figures of U.S. shipping, which were gravely
diminished at the time. See Ernst Ekman, “A Swedish Career in the Tropics: Johan Norderling
(1760–1828),” Swedish Pioneer Historical Society 15, no.1 (1964): 3–32.
230
5.3 Epilogue: The Peace of 1815 and Ambiguous Decline
It is intriguing to gauge the response of the news of the impending peace in
Gustavia. It was rarely met with expressions of joy or relief. Instead, the
prevailing feeling among the council and merchants of the colony was
concern. It was no secret that the colony’s commerce had occasionally thrived
as a cause of the conflict. The unavoidable return of normal peacetime
relations was anticipated with dour concern in commercial circles. A
particular cause for concern was that the rival free ports of St. Thomas and St.
Eustatius would soon return to their former owners.26
Despite numerous efforts to accommodate foreign commerce by lowering
taxes and granting new liberties, St. Barthélemy officials were hard pressed to
relieve the situation. Governor Stackelberg had an informant in St. Thomas
who relayed the official Danish tariffs at six percent for imports and seven and
half percent on exports, “but in reality not more than 2% are actually paid.”
The governor’s reports of Samuel Rosenswärd in 1817–18 convey a continuous
state of despair and alarm. The hopelessness was compounded by the fact that
the colony’s enterprising merchants had begun to leave the island for
commercial opportunities in other islands. There were very few left who had
stable capital enough to pay for transiting cargoes in cash. Especially
American traders had grown uncertain whether they could dispose of their
holdings in St. Barthélemy, and had begun preferring St. Eustatius and St.
Thomas as primary stops on their West Indian journeys. The mass departure
of local merchants were a sign of the times. Many traders and merchants who
had enjoyed a lively business during the war now were faced with an imminent
depression of available trading possibilities. Creditors closed in their debtors
and demanded payment of outstanding debts. Many were left insolvent in this
process, and settlers on St. Barthélemy was no exception.27

26 Af Wetterstedt to Stackelberg, 14 January 1815, C 258, FSB, ANOM; af Wetterstedt’s
memorial, 16 August 1816, SBS 1C, SNA.
27 Petition of St. Barthélemy merchants to Skogman, 17 April 1815 & Stackelberg to Skogman, 22
April 1816, Skogmanska samlingen, SNA; Rosenswärd’s report, 18 November 1817, SBS 4B, SNA;
Berghult’s report, 22 March 1819; 21 June 1819, SBS 5B, SNA.
231
In the light of the peacetime problems, it is therefore not surprising that a
lingering hope for the commercial prospects of St. Barthélemy found a source
in the political turbulence generated in the wake of the Spanish American
Wars of Independence. The disintegration of Spanish authority in the New
World created conditions which were at once advantageous and harmful to
maritime commercial activity. Alternative markets were found among the
coastal waters of the Spanish Main for enterprising neutral traders, as well as
the possibility for private maritime predation to flourish once again as it had
during the late French wars, as Spanish American revolutionaries relied
heavily upon privateering St. Barthélemy felt both the positive and negative
effects of these regional developments during this continuing period of war
and violence. They will be the subject of the final chapter.
Reorientations in the Post-War Period
The election of Jean Bernadotte, subsequently Charles XIV, as heirpresumptive to the Swedish throne, brought with it significant reorientations
in Swedish foreign policy. One often neglected side of Charles’ foreign policy
thinking was his apparent conviction of the future potential of the South
American countries not only as export markets, but as new political entities
and prospective allies. After the conclusion of the war, Sweden was highly
oriented towards Britain in its foreign policy, and was also quite simply
following cautiously along in the foreign ambitions of Canning’s ministry
towards the insurgents in South America. In some respects influenced by the
Enlightenment, Charles XIV was familiar with the work of Raynal but also
particularly the more recent polemics in 1817 by abbé de Pradt about the
South American revolutions. Charles XIV granted the Swedish translation of
de Pradt’s work as a propagandistic measure, in part at least in order to further
the Swedish commercial interest in South American markets. In 1819 the
former St. Barthélemy judge Bergius furthermore published his Om
232
Westindien, his reflections on the colonies in the West Indies and South
America which very strongly endorsed the ideas and sentiments of de Pradt.28
In this context, of St. Barthélemy had begun to assume a special role in the
foreign policy of Charles XIV. Since the Diet of Örebro in 1812, St.
Barthélemy had become a crown colony, and was separated from the state
finances. All the funds accruing from the tax and tariff collection in Gustavia
was at the personal disposal of the Swedish king. During the conflict between
the United States and Britain in 1812–14, these funds had become quite
significant. The windfall from the Anglo-U.S. war had been generously
disposed of for public as well as private costs. For a number of years, the St.
Barthélemy funds, as they were termed under the renewed auspices of the
monarchy, were used to pay wages and pensions for officials in the foreign
ministry and the colonial department, finance diplomatic travels and
exigencies, but also a costly range of widely differing cultural investments,
such as the debts of the Stockholm Theatre. The funds were however most
importantly a means of maintaining independent financial backing for the
Swedish government’s foreign policy and diplomacy. Furthermore, the king
was involved in costly operations involving the purchase of foreign bills of
exchange in an effort to stabilize the Swedish economy. It is also through
these facts that the royal interest in South American speculations should be
seen.29

Count af Wetterstedt, the court chancellor, also had personal economic
interests which were connected with the West Indian colony. He owned
extensive shares of the ironworks in Finspång in southern Sweden since his
marriage into the wealthy family of De Geer. Finspång had since several
centuries been one of the largest manufacturers of artillery pieces in the
Swedish kingdom, but since the early 1790s the cannon foundry of Finspång
had been subject to a heavy slump as a result of the loss of the lucrative Dutch
markets. Alternative foreign markets for munitions were therefore of utmost

28 Per G. Andreen, Politik och finansväsen. Från 1815 års riksdag till 1830 års realisationsbeslut
(Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1958), II: 154–57; Torsten Gihl, ”Kabinettskassan,” Historisk
tidskrift 56 (1936): 341–92; Swärd, Latinamerika i svensk politik, 293–94; Elovsson, Amerika i svensk
litteratur, 249, 286; Torvald Höjer, Den svenska utrikespolitikens historia (Stockholm: Norstedts,
1954), III:2: 241–54.
29 Andreen, Politik och finansväsen, II:137–53; Gihl, ”Kabinettskassan,” 347–49, 353–54; Swärd,
Latinamerika i svensk politik, 151–52.
233
importance, and af Wetterstedt had displayed a particular willingness to
explore different opportunities. As court chancellor, his personal
responsibility for colonial affairs could also further his private ambitions in
the foreign arms trade.30
When governor Rosenwärd died in 1818 he was succeeded by Johan
Norderling, who had been judge in the colony in the 1790s. He left Sweden
for St. Barthélemy in 1819 with thorough instructions by the crown prince
Charles XIV to make amicable contacts with the leaders of insurgency on the
South American continent as well as the government of Haiti, although taking
care to never to officially acknowledge their independence. The king-inwaiting wanted to exploit the opportunity of his departure to envoy a large
cargo of cannons, rifles, gunpowder and other munitions. Norderling was
advised to sell these goods in a way that he saw best fit, although he should
take care to arrange sales discreetly. Contracts and deals were struck through
local merchants who were knowledgeable and well connected with agents on
the Spanish Main. Through these operations, some merchants and officials of
St. Barthélemy became closely associated with economic and military
developments in the Spanish Americas. Johan Bernard Elbers became an
established agent in Colombia, where he traded in arms and munitions. The
Swedish government also made clandestine use of agents, such as the officer
Severin Lorich. In October of 1816 he arrived in Les Cayes and went by land
to Port-au-Prince. During his sojourn in the republican capital, he discussed
matters of trade and politics with the Haitian president Alexander Petion as
well as with Simon Bolívar, then present under sanctuary. His personal
overtures and offers of Swedish armaments to both were however met with
reservation at this particular moment. In the wake of the revolutionary
movements, many long-time settlers in St. Barthélemy gravitated towards the
economic possibilities near the South American mainland. Artisans and

30 Hans Forssell, ”Minne av statsministern greve af Wetterstedt,” in Svenska akademiens
handlingar ifrån år 1886 (Stockholm, 1889), 468–70, 476–89. Af Wetterstedt married into the de
Geer family in 1811.
234
workers from St. Barthélemy settled in Angostura and Margarita as well as
other settlements along the Venezuelan coastline.31
Individual efforts of persons connected to the government in St.
Barthélemy did much to further contacts with the Spanish Main. The clerk
Carl Ulrich von Hauswolff had been envoyed to St. Barthélemy in 1810 as a
replacement to the current notary public, and advanced amid a stormy career
in the colony to the office of government secretary. His personal conflicts
with other magistrates were seemingly the cause of his resignation and
subsequent travels to South America. He conducted extensive personal
research efforts on mining prospects in Colombia, and became an agent of the
Colombian government, specializing in securing shipments of munitions and
armaments. After a long sojourn in South as well as North America, he
conducted two trips to Sweden in 1824, where he successfully promoted
commercial expeditions among Swedish merchants and officials. One of the
latter included Count af Wetterstedt, who consigned part of the cargo of the
brig Cristoval Colon, bought and loaded with Swedish iron products during von
Hauswolff’s stay in Sweden. Hauswolff’s general visit to Europe also went
hand in hand with his functions as an agent for the Colombian government.
He tried to exact Swedish recognition for the state as of Colombia well as the
title of Swedish consul to Colombia for himself. Even though he was
unsuccessful in this particular regard, he collaborated, through his financial
contacts in London, in the notorious ‘ship contract’ (skeppshandeln) in 1825
between Sweden and the Mexican and Colombian governments, respectively.
The contract in question involved a plan to clandestinely sell a number of
Swedish men-of-war to the newly independent states. Despite fairly
complicated measure to keep the deal secret, Spanish authorities nevertheless
unearthed the plans, which became the subject of international as well as
domestic scandal in Sweden. The contract fell through, and did much to
temper the Swedish commercial interests in South America, especially in

31 Norderling’s instruction, 29 April 1818, C 256, BII:3 Koncept i kolonialärenden 1818–20,
Pommerska expeditionen och kolonialdepartementet, SNA; Carlos Vidales, ”Bernadotte, San
Bartolomé y los insurgentes de Tierra Firme (La ayida de Suecia a la causa bolivariana),” Instituto
de Estudios Latinoamericanos, Universidad de Estocolmo, no. 53 (1988), 6–21; Simon Bolívar’s trade in
armaments with Elbers is quite well known, see for instance Bolívar to Elbers, 27 August 1820, in
Memorias del General O’Leary, publicadas por su hijo Simón B. O’Leary, (Ministerio de la Defensa:
Caracas, 1981), 17: 398; Lorich, “Rapport sur ses voyages.”
235
government circles. Von Hauswolff returned to settle in Colombia in 1825 in
the town of Medellin, where his household became a rendezvous point of
sorts for the shipping interests still present in St. Barthélemy. His position in
Colombia however soon unraveled as his various mining projects undertaken
with personal means became marred by disasters and bankruptcies. He was
compelled to return to Sweden in 1831 in straitened circumstances.32
Whereas the utility of St. Barthélemy experienced a brief revival through
Swedish interest in South American markets, regional traffic as well as the
local merchant activity was steadily decreasing in the postwar period. A
Swedish officer visiting Gustavia in 1817 expressed his surprise when he only
“saw very few American vessels” in the harbor, in stark contrast to the
wartime traffic he had seen two years prior during a Swedish naval expedition
to the colony. The local merchants were also moving elsewhere, or were
simply running into financial difficulties after the war. In Gustavia of early
1817, claimed governor Rosenswärd, there were no other “speculative
tradesmen” left on in the colony except Johann Bernhard Elbers of the firm
of Elbers & Krafft. In the period of post-war depression on the island, he was
the only one among the cadres of naturalized merchants keeping regular
contacts aloft with American vessels and neighboring colonies. His partner
Krafft had long since then moved to the United States and become a resident
of Baltimore. In the summer of the same year, Elbers was forced to cease his
immediate commercial activities in the colony and declare bankruptcy. The
totality of outstanding claims that was affixed to the firm’s business inventory
exceeded half a million Spanish dollars. Nearly half that amount was due to a
hefty loan in the merchant bank of Baring Brothers & Co. in London. The
rest of the 78 other creditors dispersed in the West Indies, Britain, the

32 Swärd, Latinamerika i svensk politik, 146–54; Berndt von Schinckel, Minnen ur Sveriges nyare
historia (Stockholm: Samson & Wallin, 1872), 11:127–30; Tingbrand, Who was who, 289–90;
Magnus J. Crusenstolpe, ”Hauswolffiana” in Portefeuille. Skildringar ur det inre af dagens historia
(Stockholm: Hjerta, 1842), IV:185; Sven Ola Swärd, ”Carl Ulrich von Hauswolff,” in Svenskt
biografiskt lexikon (Stockholm: Bonniers, 1969), XVIII: 352–54.
236
Netherlands, and the United States convey a wide commercial network that
was unravelling helplessly in the state of peacetime affairs.33
The bankruptcy case and the subsequent activities of Elbers is signicative
in the general crisis and reorientation in colonial commerce towards the
South American markets. In itself, the bankruptcy was a serious individual
setback to the colony’s commercial activity and occasioned a prolonged and
difficult proceeding in the colonial courtroom. Somewhat miraculously
Elbers however could continue as the most active merchant in the colony even
during the height of the claims process against his firm. He did so with the aid
of persisting commercial contacts and sources of credit, despite being unable
to trade directly under his own name. The firm would however never operate
within the transit trade as it had done during the late war, but rather adapted
to new possibilities offered by another conflict, the Latin American wars of
independence.
There are also fair reasons to believe that Elbers escaped his creditors by
less than scrupulous methods. During the whole of the period of political
unrest on the South American continent, Elbers stood in close connection to
Admiral Luis Brion, acting as a middleman who handled shipments of
supplies, money, munitions as well as troops to the Spanish Main. He even
offered the use of his private armed frigate, El General Clemente, to Brion’s
discretion, as well as other ships during various campaigns in Portobello and
Cartagena. He married into a Bogotá family in 1823, and in October of that
year he became a Colombian citizen. His apparent insolvency a few years prior
comes into an interesting light when it is clear that he spent considerable
sums of money on the patriot cause, administering personal loans to the
Colombian government of 69,457 Spanish dollars in 1821 and 61,502 Spanish
dollars in 1823. In his newly adopted home country, there was ill-natured
gossip surrounding his purported lack of reputation and low business ethics,
concerning specific reports of failed business ventures in Curaçao and the
United States, as well as St. Barthélemy. High-ranking government officials

33 The Swedish officer’s account from Severin Lorich, “Rapport sur ses voyages en 1816 et 1817 à
Saint-Barthélemy, à Haiti, aux Etats Unis de l’Amerique du Nord et en Egypte,” 30 May 1818,
M298, Engeströmska samlingen, SRL; The whole volume of PJ 184, FSB, ANOM, in excess of
1,000 pages, is composed solely of the documentation of the Elbers & Krafft bankruptcy case;
Rosenswärd’s report, 5 June 1817, SBS 4B, SNA; Rosenwärd’s report, 12 January 1818, SBS 5A,
SNA.
237
reported that he had arrived in 1821 with a hefty personal fortune in excess of
500,000 Spanish dollars, in cash. Possibly this was money he had kept out of
the reach of debtors, or money he had made in the arms business with the
insurgent leaders, or quite possibly a combination of both. The claims about
his wealth is reinforced by the fact that he received a personal monopoly on
steam navigation on the Magdalena river, and financed the construction of
steamboats and the accompanying infrastructure for many decades through
his personal assets.34

As a whole, the rebellions on the Spanish Main ushered in a brief but
intensive last period of commercial activity for the ailing Swedish colony.35
The Corsario Insurgente and the Resurgence of Illicit Trade in Gustavia
In a similar way to the Guadeloupean privateering during the French wars,
the Spanish American ordenanzas de corso allowed prizes to be carried into
neutral ports, as opposed to ports exclusively controlled by the insurgents.
This condition was made absolutely necessary by the transitory nature of
territorial dominion during in Spanish America during the early years of the
insurgencies. Spanish expeditionary forces pacified parts of the Spanish Main
from time to time, effectively separating privateers from home ports such as
Cartagena and forcing them to seek refuge in alternative bases in the West
Indies. A wide variety of insurgent privateers frequented St. Barthélemy
regularly, from Cartagena, Venezuela, Buenos Aires, Chile and Gran
Colombia. Especially Artigas privateers made St. Barthélemy a regular base of
operations. According to a news story in The Times in the early 1820s, Artigan

34 Robert L. Gilmore & John P. Harrison, “Juan Bernardo Elbers and the Introduction of Steam
Navigation on the Magdalena River,” Hispanic American Historical Review 28, no. 3 (1948): 335–59;
Ricardo Garcia Bernal, Juan Bernardo Elbers: del Rhin al Magdalena (Bogotá: R. Garcia Bernal,
2007), 31–36; The declaration of Elbers’ Colombian citizenship in Gaceta de Colombia, 18 January

35 Berghult’s report, 22 March 1819, SBS 6A, SNA.
238
privateers had made the small dependency of Fourchue an “emporium for
their booty.”36
Under the auspices of the revolutionary government in Puruarán,
privateering was authorized under the newly designed Mexican flag. Mexican
privateering was in many ways synonymous with the activities of a Frenchman
named Luis Aury, who amassed a sizeable maritime force of ships and
established a base at Galveston, before embarking his privateers to Amelia
Island, where the Scotsman Gregor MacGregor was struggling to defend his
settlement against Spanish forces. In September 1817, Aury assumed
command of Amelia Island and declared it part of the Mexican Republic.
Towards the end of the year, however, the United States government sent
troops to the island and removed Aury and his privateers. St. Barthélemy with
remote out ports like Fourchue became somewhat of a surrogate for the lost
bases of operation, although not congenial to the same kind of organization
of offensive maritime forces. Fourchue nevertheless became a means for
privateers to regroup and sell of their prizes, and conversely a means for
financially ailing Gustavia burghers to remain in business. Many found a new
lucrative branch as privateer agents. William Israel, for instance, was one of
several merchants who acted as agent for Buenos Ayrean privateers.37
A special trait of the privateering business during the South American
Wars of Independence was the relative ease with which maritime
depredations were conducted. A great factor in this condition was the British
interest in the independence movements. The British government attempted
to re-establish British trade with Spanish America on the same unofficial
footing as it had enjoyed since 1810. Clandestine commercial and military
efforts were frequently a part of these plans. As such, they too found use in
neutral subterfuges to disguise their expedition. A corps of British
mercenaries headed to aid and arm the insurgents in the South American

36 Matthew McCarthy, Privateering, Piracy and British Policy in Spanish America 1810–1830
(Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2013), 30–31; Carlos Vidales, “S:t Barthélemy,” 25–33; Feliciano
Gámez Duarte, “El desafío insurgente. Análisis del corso hispanoamericano desde una
perspectiva peninsular: 1812–1828” (Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Universidad de Cádiz,
2006), 83–84, 131–34; The Times, 10 March 1821; The Report of Saint Bartholomew, 20 April 1818.
37 McCarthy, Privateering, Piracy, and British Policy, 31, Sarah Batterson, ”A Horde of Foreign
Freebooters. The U.S. and the Suppression of the Slave Trade,” Diacronie 1, no. 13 (2013): 1–16;
Duarte, “El desafío insurgente,” 133.
239
colonies departed with five different ships in London in 1817 with the aim to
arrive conjointly in South America. First, however, they would touch at St.
Thomas and St. Barthélemy before continuing with their mission. The British
soldier James Hackett, a part of the military detachment described the
general impression of shoreside commerce in Gustavia in 1818 as he arrived
with one of the British ships:
This island may be considered a place of general rendezvous for smugglers
of every description. The flags of all nations (but more especially of
America) are to be seen flying in the harbour of Gustavia, and the resident
merchants, I understand, derive a large part of their emoluments from the
intercourse with those engaged in contraband traffic.38
Before they could mount their expedition on the main, they landed with their
different vessels both in St. Thomas and St. Barthélemy, also convenient for
mercenaries like Hackett to ascertain the state of affairs on the Spanish Main
and plan their intended approach. While awaiting intelligence, the senior
officers of the British expeditionary force was invited to a fête by the Swedish
governor Rosenswärd, in honor of the birthday of Charles XIV. During his
short tenure (1816–18), governor Rosenswärd had close contacts with at least
one admiral of the patriotic fleet, Luis Brión. British-Spanish contacts had
been facilitated through St. Barthélemy before. At a prior occasion to
Hackett’s expedition, three British vessels had anchored at Fourchue laden
with equipment, munitions, as well as hundreds of soldiers waiting to join
ranks with the army of Simon Bolívar. Brión was there with his fleet to arrange
the reshipment, all with the clandestine approval and supervision of the
Swedish governor. A new item about the landing was however inserted into
the local newspaper, but it only disclosed that Brión had arrived with two
brigs and a schooner, and that he had been “immediately informed that he
could not be received here, nor his vessels even be permitted within gun
reach” and that he then retreated towards Fourchue, where his squadron lay
anchor, from which station it was “impossible to force.”39

38 Hackett, Narrative of the expedition, 23.
39 Hackett, Narrative of the expedition, xv, 32; Rosenswärd’s report, 6 July 1818, SBS 5 A; The Report
of Saint Bartholomew, 20 April 1818.
240
Gustavia’s record of illicit trade and smuggling during the post-war period
conveys different, conflicting pictures. The actions of Swedish colonial
magistrates sometimes displayed what can only be seen as an extremely riskfilled policy towards privateers and smuggling after the conclusion of the
French wars. The American consul Robert Harrison was convinced that the
Swedish Governor was in league with the most notorious of South American
privateers and “pirates”, as he called them. Harrison had initially been
dispatched as U.S. consul in St. Thomas, but after some quarrels with local
officials he became persona non grata in 1819, and relocated with a new
consular letter to St. Barthélemy. He made a long-winding but ultimately
unsuccessful attempt at achieving recognition as consul from Governor
Norderling. He quickly grew embittered at his current state of affairs, but also
found a source of grievance in the affairs of the colony. As an American
citizen, he was appalled by the presence of South American privateers
carrying American prizes into the port. He interestingly traced this tacit
acceptance of privateering all the way to the Swedish government, stating that
Governor Norderling was:
[…] supported by Baron Wedderstadt [af Wetterstedt] one of the
Ministers, who having an Iron-Foundry (or rather Cannon), sends a great
many Guns and balls to the Governor, to dispose of to the Cruisers that fit
out here. [- – -] Neither King, or Ministers, are over nice how the Governor
gets money, so he sends it to them, and it is so with all petty depraved
Governments and there is none more so than that of Sweden.40
Harrison continued to make various impasses about the corruption of
Swedish colonial officials, and is most certainly a source of libels f against the
governor and council found in various newspapers. He accused Governor
Norderling of taking bribes from pirates and the chancellor Wetterstedt of
supplying them with guns and armaments from his private iron foundries.
Harrison’s numerous testimonies are however difficult to assess, as he was an
embittered official, disenchanted with the activities of the free ports after
having been expelled from St. Thomas in 1819 after making similar
accusations there. He was also never granted recognition by the Swedish

40 Harrison’s report, 31 July 1821, M72:1, RG 59, NARA.
241
authorities as consul at his current post, and could thus not earn a living from
his title. In his reports to the Secretary of State, he could spin unbelievable
yarns about deposits of illicit riches piling up in Gustavia under the approving
gaze of Swedish officials. All tendencies aside, he still hinted at a rough-andready pragmatism that was very much a reality of free port governance.41
American consuls were not the only ones that found irregularities in the
commercial activity of Gustavia. Swedish Governors were in steady
correspondence with French admirals and colonial officials about the course
of clandestine commerce in Fourchue. Of particular interest to the French
administration were reports of French subjects that were involved in
smuggling, especially slaves, through the small islet. But they were also, as
most other officials tasked with the protection of their own colonial
commerce, highly concerned with the fact that privateers were offloading and
selling seized vessels at Fourchue belonging to the French. The British Vice
Admiral Charles Fleeming who had been stationed in the West Indies since
1828, reported that even after the conclusion of conflicts in the South
American continent, illicit trade continued to thrive in the free ports of the
region. He mentioned that the “Dutch, Danish, and Swedish Governments
have instructed their Authorities in the West Indies not to be too strict” in
their adherence to international law. This condition, he observed, was
motivated by “a false notion of encouraging trade.42
In their communications with foreign officials, St. Barthélemy Governors
consistently insisted that persons guilty of irregularities and illegal trade at
Fourchue were immediately ordered to depart. There were also many
instances when this held true. Privateers were sometimes even seized when
their activities were found to be too harmful for the colony’s foreign relations.
This condition most often occurred when privateers tried to arm their vessels
while in Swedish waters. This was the crucial distinction which had been
established already during the French wars, when Swedish subjects had tried
to arm their ships while lying at anchor in Gustavia, either to be sailed under

41 Harrison’s report, 31 July 1821, M72:1, RG 59, NARA; Ekman, “A Swedish Career,” 24–27.
42 Haasum to Jacob, 29 December 1823, Jacob to Norderling, 19 January 1824, Haasum to Jacob,
17 March 1824, SBS 9A, SNA; Fleeming to Barrow, 7 September 1829, British Parliamentary Papers.
Correspondence with British Commissioners and Foreign Powers relating to the Slave Trade (Dublin:
Irish University Press, 1840).
242
the Swedish or any foreign flag whatsoever. In the course of time, however,
magistrates increasingly started to look the other way. In a report to af
Wetterstedt, Governor Norderling confessed that “Since I began to close my
eyes about Fourchue, dubloons and sound piastres are everywhere […]
hundreds of sailors have amused themselves and drunk up all their wages.43
The complaints from French and British colonial officials did not however
lead to serious diplomatic confrontations or crises. The presence of the
unacknowledged U.S. consul in Gustavia however did give rise to wealth of
accusations against the Swedish council. A constant reiteration in Harrison’s
dispatches are reports of depredations against U.S. shipping as well as U.S.
citizens connected to it. Among these former was the “pirate” Joseph
Almeida, who Harrison claimed lived in “wealth and splendour” on the island
with his wife and nine children. Almeida originated from the Azores, but had
become a U.S. citizen in 1805 and settled in Baltimore. As many other sailors
and traders on the North American coast, he got a privateer’s license from the
U.S. government in 1812. After the Anglo-U.S. war he had strove to continue
with the lucrative privateering business, and served intermittently as a
privateer under the flags of Buenos Ayres as well as the United Provinces of
Rio de la Plata. He soon gained notoriety for his maritime exploits against
Spanish and Portuguese shipping in the region, which earned him several
lawsuits, including in his adoptive United States where he was charged of
piracy, but acquitted in 1819. In 1822 he settled in Gustavia and acquired
different properties both in St. Barthélemy as well as in neighboring islands.
His activities in St. Barthélemy during the period 1822–28 seems to have been
relatively legitimate, as he traded and worked as a local merchant with at most
the capacities of agent for different privateers. He however returned to piracy
in 1828, but on his final cruise, his crew mutinied and transported him to
Puerto Rico where he was subsequently executed. Almeida is quite typical of
the kind of actor who was involved in the privateering of the corso insurgente
during the South American wars. Large cohorts of former U.S. privateers
changed berths after the conflict with Great Britain and continued to cruise

43 Norderling’s report, 3 July 1820, SBS 7A, SNA.
243
under various insurgent colors, often taking up occasional residence in the
imperial peripheries.44
The majority of U.S. protests were however only written complaints which
received little if any satisfactory responses from the Swedish government.
This however changed dramatically when an individual U.S. naval ship
decided to take decisive action against a privateer lying at anchor in Gustavia
in December of 1828. The privateer in question was the Buenos Ayrean
Federal. During a recent cruise, the Federal had plundered the U.S. brig Nymph
of Boston of some manufactures. The privateer then proceeded to make sail
for Martinique but was driven off course and a new destination was plotted
for St. Eustatius and St. Barthélemy, where the privateer’s most recent spoils.
Surprisingly, the ship was denied entry at St. Eustatius where it only received
cannon fire from Oranjestad’s forts. While just outside port waters of
Gustavia, the local privateer agent Abraham Haddocks of A. & Henry
Haddocks received the ship and offered to buy the loot while the ship was
lying offshore. The privateer’s command however knew that they would need
a recent clearance of goods from the port of departure, and as they stolen
goods on board, they would have to feign a need for repairing the ship in order
to get the ship shoreside and present the goods to prospective buyers. This
simulation was indeed arranged and the goods were duly sold, but before the
privateer could lift anchor the next day, the U.S. sloop of war Erie cut out the
Federal from the harbor during the night. Captain Turner of the U.S. naval
ship had received intelligence about the Federal’s encounter with the Nymph,
and decided to seize it before it could proceed elsewhere. Before the seizure,
Harrison in Gustavia had demanded that the Swedish council seize the ship
and deliver the property onboard belonging to U.S. citizens.45
The affair resulted in a lengthy fallout in the communications between
U.S. and Swedish governments. One obvious issue was the violation of neutral
waters by a warship. The captain of Erie was under orders to protect American
shipping but overstepped his authority when he entered Gustavia, and was

44 Jeffrey Orenstein, “Joseph Almeida: Portrait of a privateer, pirate & plaintiff, part I” The Green
Bag 10, no. 3 (2007): 306–28; Jeffrey Orenstein: Portrait of a privateer, pirate & plaintiff, part II,”
The Green Bag 12, no. 1 (2008): 35–52; Duarte, “El desafío insurgente,” 203, 212–28.
45 Stackelberg to Clay, 31 December 1828, Affidavit of John Williams, 25 January 1829, M60:2,
RG 59, NARA.
244
duly put on trial. The U.S. government also saw fit to replace Harrison with
another consul. The most serious and practical issue was however the claims
of several Gustavia burghers, who had bought or consigned parts of the cargo
that was carried off the island in the night. The incident also put into an
embarrassing light the kind of commerce that the island’s merchants now
resorted to since many years. Reports from the island’s governing council
after the incident showed a higher alertness in the handling of privateering
business that had been turned away, and agents such as Haddocks and others
were ostensibly being more and more scrutinized in their actions.46

A Colonial Backwater
During the 1820s and 1830s, the former maritime economy of Gustavia almost
completely weaned off. The twilight of the former bustling free port is
especially present in its dwindling population. In the decades after the war,
thousands moved away to settle in other colonies. Still, the commercial and
social community did not die overnight. In September 1819, a serious
hurricane struck the island, whereupon hundreds of Gustavian houses,
magazines, and stores were demolished. An equal number of buildings were
seriously damaged whereas all berths and moorings were washed away. Most
of the thirty-odd vessels lying in port were pulled ashore, leaving many beyond
any means of reparation. Even in the face of this destruction, the usual
commercial activity resumed after that hardly a month had passed, and
dwelling-houses and means for the newly homeless were mustered in due
course. Indeed, the town had like many urban societies in the region,
recovered fairly well and quickly after past hurricanes. In 1819 the census
tallied 2,910 inhabitants in Gustavia, and in 1828 there was only a decrease in
a few hundred, at 2,311.47

46 Clay to Stackelberg, 2 January 1829, M38, RG 59, NARA; van Buren to Wright, 22 May 1829;
van Buren to Culloch, 24 September 1829, M40, RG 59, NARA; Appleton to van Buren, 30 May
& 15 July 1830, M45:T-6, RG 59, NARA; Haasum & Morsing’s report, 6 December 1828 & 24
January 1829, SBS 10A, SNA.
47 Norderling’s reports of 15 October & 20 November 1819, SBS 7A, SNA.
245
After this time, however, the population of Gustavia quickly faded away.
In 1838 the countryside populaton eclipsed the town population, and in the
1850s and 1860s the population of Gustavia dropped below a thousand,
whereas the countryside population slowly increased from 1,683 in 1854 to
1,990 in 1866. The decline of the town followed from further disasters. Severe
hurricanes occurred again at least once every decade, and all brought with
them material and human destruction. A malignant intermittent fever
epidemic in 1839–40 harvested some 300 lives, while the most serious
destruction came when a fire provoked by strong winds in 1852 turned the
western part of Gustavia ablaze. 135 houses were completely destroyed and up
over 500 people were left homeless. Governor Haasum at that point feared
that the colony was near the brink of the abyss. After the fire of 1852 most of
the former constructions of Gustavia whittled away into a nearly desolate
place, which was observed by Goës in his tour of the island in 1882. He saw
vacated buildings and ruins overrun by cacti and bushwork where there once
had been “gambling dens and hotels, meeting places for the stock brokers of
Gustavia, politicians and demagogues, of which the town had apparently been
well supplied.” The ephemeral nature of commercial enrichment was not lost
on Goës, who also toured the colony’s countryside, and discovered the ruins
of rural retreats which once belonged to the richest merchants in the island.
There was the remains of a villa in Anse de Flamands, built by the unfortunate
Carl Dreyer which had been blasted to smithereens after the hurricane of 1837
and never rebuilt. Goës also witnessed the still visible foundation of the
abandoned stone and marble mansion of Elbers & Krafft in Anse d’Ecailles,
which had been largely picked to pieces over decades in order to supply
building repairs in Gustavia. According to Goës, the remains of the white
marble floor of its former antechamber still breathed an air of “West Indian
arrogance and vanity.”48
Notwithstanding the effects of the climate and individual disasters, the
decay of the urban environment of Gustavia was still mainly a consequence of
disappearing capital and economic activity. Landed property had depreciated

48 For the population development of St. Barthélemy, see Table 2.1; For information of serious
disasters and epidemics, see Tingbrand, “A Swedish Interlude,” 75–78; The most destructive
hurricanes occurred in 1821, 1837, 1850, 1867, and 1867. The quotes are from Goës, “Minnen,” 120,
162–64.
246
in value “beyond conception,” wrote an exasperated member of the local
Haddocks family in the 1830s, and other settlers feared that if they chose to
stay they would soon fall “into a state of beggary.” Most merchants and
artisans were steadily leaving the island for employments and better prospects
in other islands. Still during the early 1820s the public incomes indicate a
viable economy, as incomes exceeded the cost of funding for the
administration and public works. The colonial council of St. Barthélemy
remitted a sizeable sum of 32,345 Spanish dollars to Stockholm in 1821 and
25,058 Spanish dollars in 1822. The sources of this income would all but vanish,
however, with the opening of British colonial ports. A brief intercession in
this new liberty seemed almost to revive the old free port’s commercial
fortunes, but it was only temporary. In the period 1829–31, the colony could
still remit sums in excess of 20,000 Spanish dollars annually, but after this
brief stint the activity faded away quickly.49

The sudden halt in public proceeds occasioned the need for the Swedish
crown to supply the colony with annual payments to cover expenses for
official wages and public expenditures. The colony had finally become a
financial burden for its owner. It is important however to note that
notwithstanding the declining fortunes of the free port, Charles XIV was for
a long time reluctant to part with the West Indian possession. The king was
well aware that the extra income would soon dwindle as peace settlements
were signed, but he underestimated how much the funds would be diminished
after the war. When there was no longer any significant means flowing from
the colony, the St. Barthélemy funds instead became a gravely abused loans
account, mired in debts accrued from running costs in the work of the foreign
ministry. Towards the end of 1829, when pressing economic matters were
about to be settled in government, court chancellor af Wetterstedt was
urgently proposing the sale of St. Barthélemy to a foreign European power, in
order to relieve some of the debt that had grown heavy on the king’s different
accounts during the preceding decades.50

49 Summary of St. Barthélemy’s revenue and expenditures, 1812–54, SBS 27 A, SNA; Haddocks to
Lönner, 22 August 1826; Haddocks to the Lönner family, 8 January 1836, Abrahamssonska
familjearkivet, Stockholms stadsarkiv.
50 Fåhraeus, ”Statistiska upplysningar,” 263; Andreen, Politik och finansväsen, II:2: 254–58; Gihl,
”Kabinettskassan,” 341–42; Charles XIV’s report to the Swedish Diet, 27 June 1815, 1815:10:11,
Charles XIV to the Privy Council, December 1817, 1817:10, Bernadotteska familjearkivet, SNA.
247
Despite af Wetterstedt’s prior activism in this question, the offers that the
Swedish government presented to foreign ministers did not meet with much
appeal. In a series of deliberations between Sweden and the United States in
1818–19, Sweden had proposed the sale of St. Barthélemy for 200,000 pounds
sterling to a number of different foreign governments, primarily the United
States and Britain. This offer, however, was promptly refused as “wild and
extravagant.” by the U.S. government. Af Wetterstedt continued to court
foreign governments in this matter, and tried several times during the 1820s
to sell it as a strategic naval station, given that the “late piratical acts and
events in the adjacent Seas, might give importance to the Island.”51
Towards the middle of the century Italy was also approached with an offer,
but upon learning that the Italians had plans of converting the island into a
penal colony the offer was withdrawn. By then however the situation had
turned critical for the few remaining persons who made up the Swedish
administration of the island. In a very candid and succinct letter in 1860,
Governor Carl Ulrich made very clear that the parent country could not
expect to retain a colony with any functioning domestic presence if it could
not spare more finances than it had during the preceding decades after the
conclusion of the French wars. Ulrich made it abundantly clear also that the
time was ripe for a cession back to France:
[…] since there are here no more than half a dozen or maybe eight people
(the civil servants and my eldest daughters included) who speak or even
understand one single word of Swedish inasmuch as the island never has
been a Swedish colony in the strictest sense of the word and any effort
never has been made to make it such a colony by establishing Swedish
schools and such like I cannot perceive that a return of the island to its first
owner in such circumstances would in any way be contrary to the dignity of
the country52

51 Russell to Adams, 21 October 1818 M45:3; Hughes to Clay, 7 February 1825, M45:5, RG 59,
NARA; Sweden also tried to motivate the sale of Barthélemy at a discounted price to the U.S.
with the argument that it would settle the Stralsund claims issue from 1810. See Carlson, Relations
of the United States, 68–71.
52 Ulrich to Bredberg, 24 March 1860, SBS 17, SNA; Quote also used in Tingbrand, ”A Swedish
Interlude,” 77.
248
In 1876 France was approached in exactly this question, whereby a treaty of
10 August 1877 was produced, by which content France consented to reclaim
the island if it was in express will of the local settlers for it do so. A referendum
was subsequently arranged, where 352 votes were cast out of a remaining
population of over 2,000 persons. All but one vote was for the retrocession of
St. Barthélemy into French dominion. The treaty was ratified in Stockholm
and Paris the following year. In return for the island the French government
paid a small sum for the remaining Swedish property on the island as well as
for the costs of retirement for Swedish colonial officials. Thus, in March of
1878, Swedish rule over St. Barthélemy ended. It ended inconspicuously, long
after the island had had any significant role to play in the economic exchanges
in the region. Life on the island had returned to a similar state as before the
arrival of the Swedes in 1785. The local population lived and worked locally,
claiming a living from the soil or from the adjacent waters of the Caribbean
Sea, rather than from participation in intercolonial and transoceanic
speculation that had become the norm under early Swedish dominion. Only
the diminished city of Gustavia as well as scattered remains across the island
remained as a memento of its fleeting days as an entrepôt and neutral
subterfuge.53

53 Hélène Servant, ”La rétrocession de Saint-Barthélemy à la France (1878–1884),” Bulletin de la
Société d’histoire de la Guadeloupe 142 (2008): 13–39 ; Tingbrand, “A Swedish Interlude,” 78–79.
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6 Commerce in Disguise – Conclusions
How does one reconcile the two different views of the history of St.
Barthélemy presented in the beginning of this study? The view offered by
most historiographic tradition has glossed over the role of the Swedish colony
in the maritime economy of the Caribbean due to its apparent lack of
importance, whereas contemporary eye-witnesses living in St. Barthélemy
during the height of the French wars reported of the rich windfalls of
intensive transnational commerce. To this author it is clear that the first view
needs some serious modification, according to a range of examinations and
indications offered within the framework of this thesis.
Firstly, one should note the continuity of the transit trade that the
creation of the free port of Gustavia facilitated in the wake of regional
upheavals towards the end of the 18th century. After the decline of the region’s
arguably most important free trade colony, St. Eustatius, significant numbers
of former merchants and traders of that colony quickly settled their
businesses elsewhere, prominently featured in the waves of new settlers in St.
Barthélemy but also rival free port colonies such as St. Thomas. The arrival of
significant foreign capital constituted a success for Swedish colonial policy,
and made possible the remarkably rapid development of Gustavia, which
became a middling urban settlement in the region. This development should
also be seen against the backdrop of further regional processes and events.
Whereas both St. Barthélemy and St.Thomas gained in relative importance
when St. Eustatius became a French dominion, St. Barthélemy remained as
the only regional entrepôt after the Danish West Indian colonies became
occupied by British troops in 1807.
Following a general rule, the free port of Gustavia profited most during
times of war, and conversely, suffered depressions in trade during times of
peace. This study has shown that the period 1793–1815 was the most profitable
period of the colony’s existence, with an uncontested apex during the late
period of the war, 1809–14. There were at least two other notable periods of
heightened activity, the first occurring at the tail end of the 18th century, and
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the other actually occurring after the Treaty of Vienna in the 1820s. All of
these peaks in trade activity have very specific and individual causes, tied to
the different manifestations of the international conflict in the region.
The first period of note, the 1790s, is tied to at least two phenomena, the
redirection of trade from St. Eustatius and the activities of the revolutionary
French island of Guadeloupe. Economic opportunities were available in both
of these developments, but especially the latter. The economy of St.
Barthélemy became increasingly tied to the French colonies under
revolutionary rule, which garnered a more intensive economic relationship
with them than before the outbreak of the war. This, however, was very much
a mixed blessing. A large part of this commerce consisted of prize goods
seized by French privateers, or in the very least some affiliation with this
commerce. Neutral Swedish vessels were however not untouchable by the
same French privateers which frequented Gustavia with their booty,
especially not if they were found trading in British harbors. Conversely, the
colony of St. Barthélemy gained an ungainly reputation by British Admiralty,
who rightly saw that it was deeply infiltrated with their enemies. As a result,
Swedish-registered shipping suffered under the renewed vigilance of British
cruisers and privateers, and the British decision to invade St. Barthélemy and
St. Thomas surely had independent reasons beyond the European-centered
politics of armed neutrality. Internal politics and the Swedish dominion of St.
Barthélemy also became decisively effected by the local power exerted by
Guadeloupe and its network of privateering agents. A substantial number of
St. Barthélemy court cases became influenced by the ambitions and
machinations of Victor Hugues, and the magistrates of the Swedish colony
were on a constant tight-rope walk between the economic relationship with
Guadeloupe and the official neutral status of St. Barthélemy.
As the aggressive maritime ambitions of Guadeloupe finally were
tempered, and the first round of the international conflict was subdued by an
uneasy peace at the start of the new century, so was the economic activity of
St. Barthélemy’s merchants. The colony emerged in an unfavorable condition
after British troops left it in 1802, but as the war started anew there was
renewed vigor in shipping and trading. Most importantly, its ties to the
French colonies remained strong, even persisting for some time in the face of
Franco-Swedish hostilities a few years later. The lifeblood of the free port was
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however not entirely dependent on the access to French colonial markets.
Rather, it was the traffic from the continental United States which mattered
most for the fortunes of local merchants as well as the Swedish colonial chest.
From the early days of Swedish colonization, neutral American vessels were
the most frequent visitors. American goods were vital as the key to the
markets of neighboring colonies. Since the access to European-made
manufactures and goods were limited at best, only the supply of American
goods made any exchange with West Indian colonies possible. The integral
role of the United States in the transit trade of Gustavia was immediately felt
following the start of Jefferson’s embargo policies in 1807. During the war
years, the economy of Gustavia was never in such dire straits as during this
period, when there was no steady supply of the barest necessities from the
North American seaboard. Even bare subsistence on the island became
tenuous when victuals were scarce.
Somewhat ironically, the continuous reorientation in U.S. embargo policy
also became the signal to the most prosperous period of the colony’s history.
In 1809, when the U.S. embargo became replaced with a policy of nonintercourse, St. Barthélemy suddenly emerged as the ideal subterfuge through
which U.S. exports could be funneled to British and French West Indian
colonies. Swathes of American vessels seeking to subvert the ambitions of
domestic prohibitions now appeared on the road of Gustavia, and there
followed a resurgence in new settlers and naturalized mariners from the
continent. The period also marks the highest point of demand for Swedish
naturalizations of vessel in the Western hemisphere, especially during the
War of 1812, when the St. Barthélemy-registered fleet reached record highs.
After the war, economic activity seemed to disappear as quickly as it had
surged a few years prior. The peace and the prospect of St. Thomas and St.
Eustatius returning to their initial owners were causes for alarm in the
commercial and administrative circles of St. Barthélemy. Despite a serious
reorientation and refurbishment of colonial taxes, the Swedish colony failed
to face the renewed competition from its former rivals. There was only one
lingering source of commercial scope, which came now from the South
American continent. The independence movements on the Spanish Main
brought in its wake a fleet of new privateers in need of neutral entrepôts, as
well as foreign, primarily British, capital with a trajectory towards the
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insurgentes. St. Barthélemy filled some key supporting functions in this
development, in likeness with other neutral or weakly controlled territories.
The Swedish government’s active but discreet interests in the possibilities
offered by the independence movement also served to give the colony a
renewed lease on life, albeit for a brief period.
After the hostilities of the South American independence movements died
down, so did too any lingering economic prospects for the free port of
Gustavia. The effect was compounded and made final by the opening of
British ports to vessels of all nations during the 1820s. Nearly overnight the
free port modeled after Dutch and Danish counterparts, a successful
institution for centuries, became obsolete. No measure of administrative
liberality could longer alleviate this fact. Gustavia remained as an occasional
holdout and haunt for smugglers for decades, but nothing on the scale of the
intensive wartime traffic which had built a foundation for a colonial society.
In lockstep with disappearing capital, devastating hurricanes and disasters,
the population of St. Barthélemy dwindled, especially among its urban
dwellers. The colony reverted slowly but surely to its agricultural origins, as
the once bustling harbor was slowly vacated. Since long realizing the
inevitable decline of its possession on the other side of the Atlantic, the
Swedish government started a campaign to sell it to a foreign power, although
without success for most of the 19th century.
Whereas the development sketched above are readily observable through
the corpus of documentation, reports, and statistical indicators, it is an
entirely other matter to gauge accurately the value of the transit trade through
Gustavia. The most important quantitative information on this question are
the records of issued sea-passes, Gustavia customs revenues, as well as the
estimated values of American exports to the circum-Caribbean during the
period 1790–1820. Keeping in mind the limitations that these sources have,
they do however convey a comparatively clear image of the transit trade
through Gustavia, especially as the U.S. records permit a comparative
perspective with the foremost rival free port colonies of St. Thomas and St.
Eustatius for the whole duration of the French wars. As a free port among
others in the West Indies, Gustavia was not among the most frequented
during the early stage of the war. Even if American shipping was the single
most important source of its commerce, Americans tended to favor St.
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Eustatius and St. Thomas. Still, this relationship is hard to establish decisively
since the estimated total values only record the principal stated destinations
of American vessels leaving home port, while it is known that these vessels
tended to oscillate between different West Indian ports, ascertaining the best
available markets before making any concrete transactions. The records of
Gustavia customs revenues however tend to reflect the general image
conveyed by the figures of U.S. exports, save for a few odd years. This
continued as the general trend up until 1807, when both St. Thomas and St.
Eustatius were seized by the British. Only then did Gustavia receive a mass of
U.S. exports on par with its rival free ports during the preceding years. This
massive expansion however quickly faded within the late stages of the war,
and even though St. Barthélemy received over 30 percent of the total U.S.
exports to the West Indies in select years, it was only 30 percent of a grossly
diminished export sector
It is more difficult still to make approximations of the commercial
activities of the Swedish colony’s own merchants and actors. Considering the
comparative numbers of their merchant fleets, St. Thomas had a substantially
more developed indigenous commercial movement. St. Thomas annually
dispatched sea registers for hundreds of vessels plying different routes in the
Western hemisphere. The frequency and reach of St. Barthélemy maritime
activity was much more circumscribed. Thus the character of Gustavia was
that more of a commercial node in the wider Caribbean through which
foreign vessels could exchange their goods as opposed to an independent
center of Swedish-registered shipping. This diminutive fleet however kept a
vigorous small-scale traffic open between its home port and the French
colonies of Guadeloupe, Martinique, St. Martin and the smaller outliers of
the Lesser Antilles. The documentary evidence surrounding a few of St.
Barthélemy’s most prominent merchants also reveal that the commercial
actors in Gustavia were far from limited to a solely regional operation, but
instead had trusted correspondents and agents on all the far sides of the
Atlantic. Their wealth and influence also indicate their apparent successes
during the high tide of commerce during the wars.
The institutional limitations to commerce in Gustavia were manifold,
despite the liberal dispensations of its commercial and legal framework. In
the earlier years of the colony the essence of the free port was hampered by
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the presence of a small but influential chartered company, which kept a strict
observance of trade limitations during its existence. Gustavia merchants also
lacked many of the rudimentaries of commercial infrastructure due to the
weak links with the metropole. The demands for financing and markets were
facilitated instead mostly through other colonies and European ports outside
of the Baltic. In connection with this last fact, naturalized merchants in
Gustavia faced a serious obstacle: they were not permitted to sail their
Swedish-registered ships to other European destinations than those in
Sweden. Even if most restrictions could and were circumvented, the
restrictions nevertheless produced their own set of disadvantages and costs.
Gustavia merchants as well as traders of other neutral nations were playing a
constant game of risk during the war, as neutral shipping rarely was respected
by the belligerent maritime forces of Britain and France. Protections in form
of convoys and territorial control of colonial waters were never fully attained
by naturalized Swedish merchants in West Indian waters. The problem of
protection culminated in 1810 after a prolonged effort of the Swedish
administration to organize an internal defense erupted in a mutiny. The
mutiny is also characteristic of colonial rule in St. Barthélemy, as it had its
sources in other matters of popular discontent.
Despite that a systematic account of the available statistics and other
indicators show that St. Barthélemy played a secondary or tertiary role among
West Indian free ports during the French wars, this study nevertheless shows
that a great deal of the Caribbean transit trade flowed through this diminutive
island in the Lesser Antilles. It was never considered ideal by most traders
involved in the transit trade, but nevertheless found convenient and useful by
traders looking to subvert and evade commercial restrictions in high-risk
ventures. The creation of the free port of Gustavia constituted no less than a
possibility for the continuity of the kind of trade conducted for centuries in
Dutch, Danish, and other subterfuges in the region. Its brief yet significant
value for state finances in the later stages of the war has also largely been
overlooked by prior studies.
This thesis also offers one of the first systematic assessments of the
Swedish participation of the slave trade through St. Barthélemy, as well as the
foreign involvement in this trade. The survey reveals a number of over 7,000
transported African captives during the whole period of Swedish ownership
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of the colony. Whereas this is a diminutive figure in the context of the whole
European participation in the trade, it nevertheless reveals that the Swedish
slave trade was larger than many earlier estimates. There are also important
conceptual problems of what exactly constituted Swedish slave trade that have
been considered, but the most important individual slave traders in the colony
were in fact Swedes, whose activities have come into a new light. The
historical development of the slave trade in the colony is also interesting
because the neutral free port allowed foreign actors to circumvent
international treaties and laws that were becoming prevalent in the overall
efforts to abolish the transatlantic slave trade. The role of local agents as
intermediaries in the trade also makes it difficult to arrive at any precise
estimates, but it suggests that the final number presented in this thesis could
still be revised upwards.
One could also speculate that the greater importance of the free port’s
existence did not lie within the quantities and values of goods shipped
through it, but rather within the free port’s quality as neutral ground. The free
ports were a colonial crossroads for goods and capital but also for people and
information. In a colonial world officially closed off by mercantile restrictions
and policed by maritime predators in times of war, the free port offered
unique possibilities for the itinerant trading vessels plying the Caribbean and
Atlantic Seas. As such, Gustavia at times seemed to exert a near magnetic
force of attraction to privateers, smugglers, and freebooters of nearly every
description.
More significant queries surrounding Gustavia’s role include the question
whose interests the free port ultimately served? Although Gustavia served a
purpose for a range of actors in need of a neutral subterfuge, it is clear that
the utility of it mirrored the prevailing power relationships in the region. In
likeness to Holden Furber’s claim that smaller European nations contributed
willingly or unwillingly to the establishment of British domination of India,
so one could argue that St. Barthélemy was a service node on the periphery on
the British Empire. True, during its early formative years the Swedish colony
became juxtaposed in a network of almost subaltern colonies of the French
empire, enough to warrant continuous British maritime harrassments as well
as a final occupation in 1801. But this relationship did not last, and when the
Caribbean Sea became more firmly in the grip of British maritime supremacy,
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so did the nature and character of Gustavia commerce change. It became,
more than ever, a neutral meeting place where American and British
merchants could exchange goods despite the barriers erected by the war of
1812, in order to alleviate the immediate aggravations of war. One could also
pose the question if St. Barthélemy could have been the service node and
entrepôt for insurgents and privateers from the Spanish Main had it not been
for the stance of the British government in the Latin American independence
movement.
Especially the period of 1809–14 in the history of St. Barthélemy could
offer some outlooks within the wider context of Atlantic and Early American
history. The supply of British colonies during embargo and war years could
give a significant additional evidence to the debate surrounding the so-called
decline thesis of the British West Indian colonies. The decline thesis has held
for a long period of time that the British plantation societies were set, by the
end of the 18th century, in a state of irreversible decline. Newer investigations
of quantitative data seem however to contradict this position. The availability
of neutral markets such as St. Barthélemy for British colonists seem to
support the latter position.
Another aspect of the period is the significance of the free port for
American merchants during the war. Barring the increased connections with
Spanish ports, St. Barthélemy remained as one of the few West Indian market
available to American shipping, which suffered its most significant setback
since independence. This development should be allocated its space in the
economic history of the United States, something which it has not been given
before this study.
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Swedish Summary – Sammanfattning
Den här boken undersöker den svenska kolonin S:t Barthélemys ekonomiska
historia i den karibiska regionen under de franska revolutions- och
Napoleonkrigen mellan 1793–1815. Den centrala frågeställningen är vilken roll
kolonins frihamn Gustavia innehade i den regionala transithandeln under
denna tidsperiod. Ett grundläggande antagande för studien är antagandet att
smuggling historiskt sett utgjorde ett naturligt och väsentligt inslag i denna
handel. Begreppet smuggling har varit föremål för en rad undersökningar och
debatter inom tidigare historieskrivning, speciellt äldre kolonialhistoria
under första delen av 1900-talet såväl som inom den moderna avgreningen
atlantisk historia. Inom dessa har den holländska skeppsfarten samt
frihamnshandeln på det västra halvklotet stått i exceptionellt fokus. Både
Sverige och Danmark innehade däremot frihamnskolonier och verkade som
neutrala aktörer inom samma världsdel. Jag hävdar i denna bok att den
svenska frihamnen Gustavia innehade en större och mer betydelsefull roll i
den karibiska transithandeln än forskningen hittills antingen hävdat eller
kunnat påvisa.
Den tidigare forskningen kring S:t Barthélemy har bedrivits genomgående
från ett nationellt svenskt perspektiv och hur kolonin påverkat svensk
ekonomi och utrikeshandel. Eftersom denna forskning inte kunnat skönja
någon stor betydelse av kolonin i dessa sammanhang, har också kolonins
historia tillskrivits ringa betydelse i en rad andra sammanhang. Inom den
internationella historieskrivningen har S:t Barthélemy inte uppmärksammats
nämnvärt och endast rönt svepande omnämnanden från ett litet antal
forskare. Däremot ger nedslag i källmaterialet och samtida litteratur under
1800-talet en annan bild av kolonin. I brittiska polemiker om neutral handel
framhålls den svenska kolonin som en av flera potentiella nedslagsplatser som
kan användas av det brittiska imperiets fiender, och samtida observationer
från Gustavia under Napoleonkrigen ger ibland ett intryck av frenetisk
ekonomisk verksamhet genom frihamnen.
Orsakerna till tystnaden inom tidigare forskning är många. Dels härrör den
sig från att en stor och betydelsefull del av det primära källmaterialet inte varit
tillgängligt under många årtionden, eftersom det återgått till Frankrike efter
att kolonin återlämnades från Sverige 1878. Detta material har sedermera
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blivit i mycket dåligt materiellt skick och varit stängt för forskningen. Dels
beror situationen också på ett lågt intresse i Sverige kring dess koloniala
förflutna. Perioden som kolonialmakt har inte resonerat väl med den moderna
bilden av Sverige som ett progressivt välfärdssamhälle med engagemang i
utvecklings- och biståndspolitik. Intresset för kolonin inom internationell
historieskrivning har också varit marginellt, och de få bidrag som gjorts inom
den har mötts av samma begräsningar gällande källmaterial. Det viktigaste
inom det senare sammanhanget torde dock vara en förhärskande tendens att
hålla sig inom nationella perspektiv och inte fästa stor vikt till
gränsöverskridande fenomen såsom transithandeln via frihamnar just var. Ett
vanligt narrativ inom atlantisk historia är den holländska dominansen inom
frihandel, som till stor del överskuggat behandlingen av andra historiskt
betydelsefulla neutrala aktörer i Västindien såsom Sverige och Danmark.
Avhandlingen påvisar en del väntade och en del överraskande resultat. Som
en generell regel upplevde Gustavias ekonomi sina bästa konjunkturer under
krigstid och sina sämsta under fredstid. Detta var en normal utveckling för
regionens frihamnar. Den närmast dramatiska tillökningen i S:t Barthélemys
befolkning var en direkt följd av den franska revolutionen och kriget mellan
stormakterna. Inflyttningen till S:t Barthélemy var störst ifrån de närliggande
holländska och franska besittningarna i Karibien, vilka upplevde stora
politiska och social omvälvningar i följd av kriget. Av stor betydelse var
inflyttningen från St. Eustatius, den ditintills största neutrala handelsplatsen
i de mindre Antillerna. Denna mindre flyttningsrörelse sattes igång efter det
franska övertagandet av ön 1795. Inflyttningen förde med sig inflytelserika
handelsfamiljer och deras medföljande kapital och kontaktnät. En del i denna
flyttningsrörelse rörde sig även till andra frihamnar såsom danska Charlotte
Amalie. Tidigare framställningar av den regionala transithandeln har ofta
utfäst 1795 som slutpunkt just på grund av St. Eustatius nedgång, men som ett
nytt resultat kan denna avhandling påvisa att de svenska och danska
frihamnarna möjliggjorde en kontinuitet i regionens transithandel.
Avhandlingen ger också en av de första utförliga redogörelserna och
uppskattningarna av den svenska inblandningen av slavhandeln genom S:t
Barthélemy. Källmaterialet påvisar en summa på drygt 7 000 exporterade
slavar, antingen på svenska fartyg eller med andra anknytningar till den
svenska kolonin. Karaktären av handeln genom frihamnen påförde däremot
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en historiskt intressant utveckling där slavhandeln pågick länge under olika
former trots den ökade kampanjen mot handeln i Europa. Trots sin
begränsade omfattning fanns det betydande svenska aktörer inom St.
Barthélemys slavhandel, och det utländska deltagandet i kolonins slavhandel
blev allt större efter hand som den transatlantiska slavhandeln förbjöds i andra
europeiska länder. Som neutral frihamn erbjöd St. Barthélemy möjligheter för
slavhandelsaktörer att förbigå internationella restriktioner och lagar. Den
svenska slavhandelsfrågan samt den svenska förhållningen till
slavhandelsmotståndet under 1800-talet skulle förtjäna ytterligare
undersökningar.
Inom transithandeln skulle det däremot ta lång tid innan Gustavia steg till
en liknande roll som sina danska och holländska föregångare. Det svenska
västindiska kompaniet grundades som ett led i de svenska försöken att
upprätta direkta handelskontakter från hemlandet till olika karibiska
marknader. Avhandlingen visar dock i tydligare mån än tidigare
undersökningar vilka problem och hinder som stod i vägen för kompaniets
ansträngningar. Kompaniet var illa förberett finansiellt såväl som
kompetensmässigt att möta de utmaningar som en transatlantisk handel
ställde. Kapitalbristen i kompaniets hemstad Stockholm var stor, och
direktörerna själva, ett par individer ur Stockholms handelsmannaelit, var
tvungna att finansiera en stor del av insatsen själva för att upprätthålla en
småskalig men regelbunden handelsrörelse med kolonin. Under sin knappt
tjugoåriga oktrojtid mötte kompaniet och dess tjänstemän en mängd andra
problem. Motståndet mot kompaniets privilegier i kolonin var stort, och dess
tjänstemän lyckades aldrig etablera sig helt i regionens svårforcerade
handelsnätverk. Kompaniets betjäning gjorde stora förluster i sin handel och
i hemlandet saknade kompaniet ibland regeringens stöd för sina koloniala
importvaror. Det tydligaste exemplet för detta var det svenska förbudet mot
kaffekonsumtion som rådde 1794–96. I korthet berodde kompaniets problem
i allmänhet på att frihamnsinstitutionen inte fungerade väl ihop med ett
privilegierat handelskompani med stort inflytande i den koloniala styrelsen.
Kompaniets oktroj upphävdes 1805 efter en förhållandevis kort diskussion i
hemlandet och förnyades aldrig.
Den internationella handeln genom Gustavia var också till en början
obetydlig. Konkurrens från etablerade aktörer samt den ökande osäkerheten
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under den tidiga krigsperioden var avgörande faktorer i denna tröga
utveckling. Ett informellt handelsförhållande upprättades dock efter hand
främst med de franska kolonierna Guadeloupe, Martinique, och S:t Martin.
Under revolutionstiden skulle förhållandet intensifieras, med såväl positiva
som negativa effekter. En stor inflyttning av franska bosättare inleddes under
det tidiga revolutionsåren, och de franska revolutionskommissarierna i
Guadeloupe upprättade ett franskt konsulat i S:t Barthélemy. Konsulatet
agerade också som bas för franska kapare i regionen, på samma sätt som i
många kringliggande, icke-brittiska kolonier. Konsulatet medförde en
förhöjd ekonomisk aktivitet som gagnade öns handlande, men det bidrog
också till den svenska öns ökande utsatthet inför den brittiska sjömakten.
Som koloni och som ekonomisk institution var frihamnen mycket prekär
att administrera och styra. Den lokala svenska administrationen, konseljen,
ställdes kontinuerligt inför allvarliga utmaniningar under krigstid. Som en
perifer europeisk makt med en liten kolonial besittning hade Sverige inga
realistiska möjligheter att upprätthålla ett effektivt herravälde över ön.
Kolonin sattes under utländsk ockupation 1801–02 (Storbritannien) och 1807
(Frankrike). Ockupationerna hade olika handelspolitiska motivationer, men
var relativt kortvarade och begränsade i förhållande till kolonins natur och
utsatta läge. Ett utbrett missnöje hos den lokala befolkningen mot kolonins
ledning ledde också till ett myteri bland kolonins milis 1810, med påföljden
att öns justitiarie och platsmajor deporterades. Den svenska koloniala
ledningen hade stora problem med att kontrollera befolkningens och
individers agerande i politiskt och ekonomiskt viktiga frågor. Således antog
Gustavia karaktären av ett samhälle som närmast fungerade som en
marknadsplats som endast uthyrdes åt utländska intressenter. Det svenska
inslaget i öns befolkning och samhällsliv var mycket begränsat.
Efter en dålig ekonomisk period under början av 1800-talet, inledd av en
instabil fred mellan stormakterna, ökade den ekonomiska rörelsen i Gustavia
stadigt ända mot krigets slut. Danska Västindiens tillbakagång i kölvattnet av
det brittiska besittningstagandet 1807 förstärkte den svenska kolonins roll i
regionen. Förutom de traditionella kontakterna till de närliggande franska
kolonierna förstärktes banden till amerikanska handelsnätverk. Gustavia
intog mer och mer rollen som mellanhand i den amerikanska handeln till
brittiska och franska kolonier. Detta förhållande ändrades dramatiskt på
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grund av senare utvecklingar i amerikansk handelspolitik. Ett amerikanskt
embargo inrättades emot handel på Frankrike och Storbritannien, vilket
ledde till att S:t Barthélemys ställning som mellanhand blev ovärderlig. Under
perioden 1809–12 upplevde kolonin sin mest intensiva handelsperiod, och
avlöstes av en nästan lika lönsam period under 1812 års krig mellan
Storbritannien och USA.
Handelspolitik hade varit ett stridsämne i relationerna mellan dessa länder
ända sedan den amerikanska självständigheten. I allmänhet var båda länder
ekonomiskt intimt förbundna, men medan USA drev en frihandelspolitik
hävdade Storbritannien sin exklusiva rätt på handeln i dess egna kolonier.
Detta förhållande, samt de folkrättsliga diskussioner som uppstod i samband
med amerikansk neutral handel på franska kolonier och fastlandet, ledde till
att den amerikanska sjöfarten utmanades av brittiska krigsskepp och kapare
under i stort sett hela krigsperioden 1793–1815. Efter en rad brittiska
övergrepp mot amerikanska handelsskepp förklarade USA krig. Däremot var
amerikanska handelsmän ännu i behov av brittiska marknader för sina varor,
och St. Barthélemy blev den föredragna nedslagsplatsen där brittiska och
amerikanska varor kunde byta händer, kriget till trots. Detta var en utökning
av den amerikanska smuggelhandeln som tilltagit efter 1809, då den svenska
kolonin började utgöra en bekvämlighetshamn för amerikanska handelsmän
som var i behov av att kringgå förbud i den inhemska handelspolitiken. Det
stora amerikansk-brittiska handelsutbytet genom ön under denna period
utgör avhandlingens kanske största resultat, och har inte tidigare behandlats
ingående.
Fredsslutet 1815 medförde så småningom en dramatisk nedgång för
kolonins handel och ekonomi. St. Eustatius och St. Thomas återlämnades
efter kriget och var åter igen konkurrenter om den regionala transithandeln.
En rad brittiska beslut under 1820-talet medförde även en utökad frihandel i
de brittiska territorierna vilket skadade regionens gamla frihamnar. De
sydamerikanska självständighetssträvandena blev däremot den möjlighet som
höll Gustavias kommersiella funktioner i liv. St. Barthélemy blev en nedslagsoch mötesplats för kapare under en rad nya sydamerikanska flaggor, och ön
blev en slags mellanhand i vapenexporten till de sydamerikanska rebellerna. I
denna utveckling deltog även den närmaste kretsen kring den svenska
regeringen, som personligen gjorde affärer på ett antal expeditioner. I det
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långa loppet var dock frihamnens roll utspelad, och kolonin upplevde stadiga
förluster i sin befolkning under årtiondena efter kriget. Mot slutet av 1820-
talet kunde öns administration inte längre bestrida sina utgifter själv, och
kolonin var tvungen att få ekonomiskt tillskott från svenska kronan. Kolonin
hade blivit en ekonomisk börda för hemlandet, och under 1800-talets lopp
försökte den svenska regeringen sälja kolonin till en rad länder. Detta
lyckades ändå inte förrän 1878, då kolonin återförsåldes till Frankrike.
Själva transithandelns karaktär, speciellt under krigstid, är sådan att den
svårligen låter sig kvantifieras i precisa tal. Denna avhandling har dock gjort
en systematisk genomgång av de tillgängliga indikatorerna i källor och
statistik som finns tillgängliga. Resultatet är att S:t Barthélemy som sådan
spelade en sekundär eller tertiär roll i förhållande till andra frihamnskolonier
under kriget. Resultaten är dock tydliga i att en stor del av den karibiska
transithandeln korsade den lilla svenskägda ön i Karibien. En rad
begränsningar på det politiska såväl som ekonomiska planet begränsade
möjligheterna för kolonin att vara en idealisk handelsplats för regionala
handelsmän. Inrättandet av en frihamn på ön utgjorde dock inget mindre än
en avgörande möjlighet för kontinuiteten av en slags gränsöverskridande
handel som var en hundraårig tradition inom regionen. Gustavias korta men
betydelsefulla högkonjunktur under Napoleon krigens slutskede är av speciell
vikt även ur ett internationellt perspektiv. Det är också föremål för diskussion
om frihamnsinstitutionens betydelse endast kan mätas i de sammanlagda
varuvärden som kan uppmätas i kolonins handel. Frihamnar var en slags
mötesplats mellan territoriella gränser, inte bara för utbytet av varor och gods
utan även för mänskliga aktörer och information. I den merkantilistiska
världen som det sena 1700-talets Karibien ännu var, så erbjöd frihamnen unika
förutsättningar för kringresande handelsskepp på Karibiska och Atlantiska
havet.
En viktig utblickande fråga i sammanhanget är vilkas intressen som
egentligen gynnades mest av den svenska frihamnen? Även om Gustavia var
öppen för alla och drog till sig en mängd aktörer i behov av en neutral
undanflyktsort, är det ända rätt klart att betydelsen av hamnen stod i en
relation till rådande maktförhållanden i regionen. Jag hävdar att det går att
göra ett analogt uttalande om S:t Barthélemy som Holden Furber gjort om
mindre europeiska nationer i koloniseringen av Indien. Furber har framhållit
263
att mindre europeiska nationer såsom Danmark och Holland genom deras
närvaro och sina handlingar på den indiska subkontinenten har bidragit mer
eller mindre medvetet till etablerandet av brittisk dominans över samma
territorium. I likhet med detta resonemang kan man framhålla S:t
Barthélemys funktion som en läglig undantagszon i periferin på det brittiska
imperiet i Karibien. Under den svenska kolonins första årtionden var
visserligen den mera att betrakta som intagen i en fransk intressesfär,
tillräckligt för att bli ockuperad av brittiska sjöstridskrafter i början av 1800-
talet. Men detta förhållande förändrades stadigt i takt med att Storbritannien
erhöll en fastare kontroll över regionen mot slutet av Napoleonkrigen. I
synnerhet var nödlidande brittiska kolonier väl betjänade av frihamnen under
stridigheterna med Förenta Staterna. En kontinuerlig debatt inom brittisk
kolonialhistoria är om de västindiska koloniernas nedgång under 1800-talet
faktiskt var så allvarlig som den tolkats vara, och här kunde S:t Barthélemys
roll som mellanhand vara förtjänt att inlemmas som ett ytterligare perspektiv
i denna debatt. En viktig anmärkning i sammanhanget är också om S:t
Barthélemy kunde ha haft en så utvecklad kontakt med sydamerikanska
rebeller och kapare om den brittiska utrikes- och handelspolitiken inte skulle
ha haft så stora ambitioner på Sydamerika.
En sista betraktning är den om den svenska kolonins roll för den
amerikanska neutrala handeln under hela krigsperioden. Före såväl som efter
självständigheten levde amerikansk handel i ett nära förhållande till
Västindien, som erbjöd koloniala stapelvaror i utbyte mot livsmedel och
andra nödvändighetsartiklar som producerade i Nordamerika. Under de
franska revolutions- och Napoleonkrigen blev den amerikanska neutrala
handeln dock föremål för oerhörda risker och påtryckningar från alla
krigförande länders flottor och kapare. I denna situation påtog frihamnarna i
de mindre Antillerna en större roll än tidigare för förmedlandet av
amerikanska handelsvaror till de olika kolonierna i Västindien. Under krigets
gång utvecklades ett speciellt förhållande mellan amerikansk handel och den
svenska kolonin, som utgjorde ömsesidiga fördelar, och ibland nackdelar, för
svenska och amerikanska regeringar. I takt med Storbritanniens ökade
herravälde över havet minskade de amerikanska handelsintäkterna
dramatiskt, men S:t Barthélemy erbjöd en av de få möjligheter för handelns
fortgång. Detta förhållande har inte utvecklats så djupgående så som den
264
gjorts i denna avhandling tidigare, och kan väl tjäna att uppmärksammas i
Förenta Staternas ekonomiska historia.
265
Appendices
266
Appendix I
A Note on Money, Rates of Exchange and Values
This thesis presents values for the Caribbean transit trade via different
entrepôts and port cities. The Spanish dollar, a silver coin, is used throughout
this thesis as the common denominator for sums of money and for valuations
of commodities and cargoes and overall trade statistics. This is because the
Spanish dollar was the primary money of account in St. Barthélemy as well as
many other Caribbean colonies. This meant that in an everyday transaction
and bookkeeping entry of, say, 100 Spanish dollars, the onus was always on
the debtor to produce enough coin of sufficient metal weight to equal the
required sum in Spanish dollars, whatever real money was involved. I
emphasize that all such values are understood to be current at the time they
were given. Called variously the peso of eight reales, the piastra or piastre
gourde, cob, dollar, and the piece of eight, the Spanish dollar was the universal
money of the Atlantic world, as well as the primary mode of payment in EuroAsiatic trade in the Far East. This had been the case since the early sixteenth
century, and had spread outwards from the Spanish empire by force of the
vast silver output of the Spanish colonies in Latin America, and of the
perennial need for bullion and specie of traders everywhere. It was the
relatively most stable and least debased coin in the Western world. The
Spanish government debased the value of the Spanish dollar as a coin a few
times during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries with the result that it
took greater numbers of reales to equal the nominal ”piece of eight”. As of
1772, the Spanish dollar was divided into 11 reales (also called bits or escalins),
and every reale into 6 stivers (also called dogs or noirs). Other prominent coins
which featured in the monetary circulation of St. Barthélemy were the
Spanish doubloon (gold, worth 16 Spanish dollars) and the Portuguese moeda
(gold, worth 8 Spanish dollars). Large remittances of money were of course
transacted by way of cashless payments, primarily by bills of exchange, but
also by bartering commodities. Swedish officials and agents of the Swedish
West India Company usually resorted to the merchant house of Wilson &
Son in London for their credit and remittances, but occasionally also to firms
and bankers in Hamburg, Amsterdam, and Paris. Buying bills of exchange
267
from British, Danish and Dutch colonies in the vicinity was also not unusual
to meet immediate liquidity needs.
The propensity for cheating and fraud, and the overall scarcity of bullion
and specie, led to some serious problems in the colonial economies.
”Clipping” coins by shaving, filing, or cutting metal from its edges was
commonplace. It was very usual to cut a coin in not quite two halves by
shaving and keeping a thin strip from the center. The list goes of techniques
could go on, but the inevitable result of a these practices was a kind of profit
for cheaters and a debased coinage for everyone. This explains the reliance of
merchants on the weight of coins rather than accepting them by tale. A
practical example is given by Euphrasén in 1788, who observed that the
Spanish dollar in St. Barthélemy was usually in physical circulation as two or
four cut pieces of a whole coin. Half a Spanish dollar was good for 5 ½ reales.
A coin cut into four pieces, on the other hand, led to the problem that 2 pieces
(two fourths of a coin) were always bigger than the other two pieces, which in
practice led to the larger pieces being worth 3 reales a piece, while the smaller
ones never went for more than 2 ½ reales each. Official measures by the St.
Barthélemy council were enacted from time to time to combat abuse and to
create a degree of monetary order, prohibiting underweight, cut, or otherwise
debased types of coin and instituting the practice of countermarking coins for
authenticity or value. There were even plans for an indigenous, copper
colonial currency for the island in 1797, but these were never put into action
as it was unrealistic. In an attempt to secure the supply of specie, the island
council in 1797 fixed the value of Spanish dollars at a rate of 12 reales per dollar,
instead of the usual 11. Still, the supply of specie and liquid assets remained an
everyday problem. Administrative measures as a whole were never successful
in regulating the monetary system of the island, which remained free and open
to the whims and fluctuations of economic life at large.
Concerning the rate of exchange between the Spanish dollars and other
currencies, it has to be conceded that there are no longer exchange rate series
due to lack of sources. Exhaustive series are only available from 1820 onwards.
However imprecise, I have adopted the practical exchange rate which was
often referred to during the period covered in this thesis. The rate of
exchange applied by the British to the Spanish dollar was calculated a
relatively stable and precise £1 sterling = 4.44 Spanish dollars throughout the
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Revolutionary period. For general and practical purposes, at least during the
Napoleonic wars, the rate was sometimes rounded in contemporary sources
to £1 = 5 pesos. The Spanish dollar and the U.S. dollar were held to be at par
throughout these years. In comparison with these currencies, the monetary
system of the Swedish kingdom was much more complex. During the 18th
century, Sweden had both silver and copper currencies as well as a paper
currency. After the insolvency of the Sveriges Riksbank in November 1776, the
rixdollar specie of 25.70 was declared the monetary unit. Thus the silver
standard was reintroduced. Despite of this, new paper money was issued, i.e.
the rixdollar banco (or bancosedlar) and additionally the rixdollar riksgälds
since 1789. Through these developments, the silver currency was more or less
put out of operation at the end of the 18th century. Exchange rate quotations
were done for the most part in or for rixdollar banco of 6 rixdollars specie or
48 shillings (skillingar) payable in bancosedlar. In the context of international
trade, however, transactions were seldom made in Swedish currencies.
Commercial centers such as Stockholm and Gothenburg were affiliated with
international networks of cashless payment systems, but bills of exchange
were rarely drawn from abroad on Sweden, and Swedish economic actors
largely settled their commercial debts by drawing and remitting foreign bills.
Sources: John J. McCusker, Money and Exchange in Europe and America, 1600–1775. A
Handbook (Chapel Hill, NC: The University of North Carolina Press for the Institute
of Early American History and Culture, 1978), 3–23, 81–86, 98–107; Markus A. Denzel,
Handbook of World Exchange Rates, 1590–1914 (Farnham: Ashgate, 2010), 32–33, 307–11,
339–58; Frank Olrog, Med svensk krona: Den svenska kolonien S:t Barthélemys mynthistoria
1784–1878 (Stockholm: Kungl. Myntkabinettet statens museum för mynt-, medalj- och
penninghistoria, 1978).

269
Appendix II
Notes on units of measurement
Throughout the text use has been made of essentially two units for the
measurement of shipping capacity or tonnage, the first of which is the
Swedish last (svåra läster in plural) and the imperial ton (alt. weight ton or long
ton). The common denominator for both units of tonnage is that they are a
calculation of the total permanently enclosed capacity of the vessel,
essentially the cargo hold of the vessel. This is not to be confused with either
deadweight tonnage (the measure of how much weight a ship is carrying or is
capable of carrying) or displacement (the weight of the water that a ship
displaces when floating).
Calculation of the tonnage units could be a complicated process, but after
1726, standard procedures were employed in Sweden for the measurement of
shipping capacity. A Swedish last was equal to a ship’s carrying capacity of 18
ship pounds ironweight, or, 1 last = 18 ship pounds ironweight = 2.448 metric
tons. That means that registered capacity of Swedish vessels were roughly
equal to modern deadweight tonnage (but should still not be considered as
such). The imperial ton, then, employed in the measurement of early modern
British shipping, was equal to 2,200 English pounds, which is almost exactly 1
metric ton (1,016 kg). Partly because of this accessibility and ease of
understanding for a modern audience, the unit is used in comparative research
and I have therefore decided to convert Swedish registered tonnage
throughout text from lasts to imperial tons. For practical purposes, I have
assumed a general rate of conversion of 1 ton = 2.5 lasts.
An example how a measurement and conversion between these units
functioned in practice is furnished in the ship documents of the Swedish brig
Neptunus, captain Daniel Jäderbom. Measured in 1793 in Gamla Karleby
(present day Karleby/Kokkola), the small brig had a measured length of 89
feet and a width of 26 feet. Moreover, it measured an immersion of 5 feet and
5 inches in the water (computed from a difference in immersion between a
loaded and unloaded cargo hold, but these original measures were not
specified). The Swedish royal reglemente of 11 March 1778 regulating the
procedure of measurement was followed, and its specified formula can be
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described as immersion (length * width)/112 = lasts. The calculation began
thus:
89 * 26 = 2314.
2314 * 5.5 = 12727.
12727/112 = 113 71/112
The final tally was rounded down to 110 lasts, an acknowledgment of the fact
that the total capacity included the crew’s living quarters as well, which could
be deducted from the commercial capacity of the vessel. Now, when the
Neptunus sailed over the Atlantic and engaged in tramp shipping in the
continental United States, she would be described as a registered 270 tons
burden, as she was in a Baltimore custom house document in February 1798.
Then the following proportion can be deduced: 270 tons / 110 lasts =2.45. This
goes to show that it is hard arriving at any perfect understanding of any vessel
size when confronted with a number in either lasts or imperial tons.
Sources: Measurement of Swedish brig Neptune 10 September 1793, 2L, vol. 197, ADG;
Measurement of Swedish schooner Four Sisters, 16 October 1815, PJ 183, FSB, ANOM.
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Appendix III
Governors and commanders of St. Barthélemy
Name Term of Service
Salomon Mauritz von Rayalin (1757–1825) 6 March 1785 –
23 April 1787
Pehr Herman Aurivillius Rosen von Rosenstein (1763–1799) 23 April 1785 –
6 June 1790
Carl Fredrik Bagge af Söderby (1750–1828) 6 June 1790 –
17 November 1795
Georg Henrik af Trolle (1764–1824) 17 November 1795 –
26 January 1801
Hans Hindric Ankarheim (1743–1814) 26 January 1801 –
14 February 1812
Berndt Robert Gustaf Stackelberg (1784–1845) 14 February 1812 –
10 August 1816
Johan Samuel Rosenswärd (1782–1818) 10 August 1816 –
19 September 1818
Carl Fredrik Berghult (1794–1834) 19 September 1818 –
20 August 1819
Johan Norderling (1760–1828) 20 August 1818 –
27 April 1826
James Harlef Haasum (1791–1871) (co-governed for most of the time) 27 April 1826 –
Lars Gustaf Morsing (1794–1860) 28 June 1841
James Harlef Haasum 28 June1841 – August 1858
Georg Wilhelm Netherwood (1829–1903) August 1858 –
4 December 1868
Bror Ludvig Ulrich 4 December 1868 –
10 September 1878

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Appendix IV
American consuls stationed on St. Barthélemy, 1797–1827
Name Term of Service
Job Wall 1797–1803
Isaac Prince 1803–1809
William Israel 1809–1813
Nathaniel W. Strong 1813
Joseph Ficklin 1816–1820
Joshua Norvel 1820–1821
Robert Monroe Harrison 1821–1823
Hugh Steele 1823–1827
Sources: Despatches from U.S. Consuls in St. Bartholomew, French West Indies,
1799–1899, M72, RG 59, NARA; Walter Burges Smith, America’s diplomats and consuls
of 1776–1865: a geographic and biographic directory of the Foreign Service from the
Declaration of Independence to the end of the Civil War (Washington D.C.: Center for the
Study of Foreign Affairs, Foreign Service Institute, U.S. Dept. of State, 1987).
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Appendix V
Swedish consuls stationed in the Unites States, 1783–1834
Station Name Term of Service
New York Henrik Gahn 21 November 1799–
2 August 1834
Baltimore Henry Aquiton 17 May 1810–
4 November 1818
Boston Richard Söderström 22 September 1783–
27 February 1795
Charleston Adolf Schough 10 January 1784–
17 October 1785
Philadelphia Carl Hellstedt 22 September 1783–
28 February 1793
Richard Söderström 27 February 1795–
7 April 1815
Severin Lorich 25 July 1818–
August 1834
Sources: J.A. Almqvist, Kommerskollegiums och riksens ständers manufakturkontor samt
konsulsstaten. Administrativa och biografiska anteckningar (Stockholm: Norstedt, 1912),
345–49.
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Appendix VI
Description of the datasets
Three separate datasets have been constructed for use in this thesis. These
are (1) the Wilson dataset on the transit trade of St. Barthélemy and St.
Thomas (2015), (2) the Wilson dataset on the Swedish slave trade (2015), and
(3) the Wilson dataset on St. Barthélemy mariners (2015), referred to in this
appendix as datasets (1),(2), and (3). The systematic collection of a large body
of data from the archives have been organized through Filemaker software,
and has been ongoing for the period of 2011–15. A large number of iterations
have been made for each and every one of the separate datasets before arriving
at the current structure. The data in the thesis are from the most current
versions of the datasets (from 2015).
The composition and structure of dataset (1) is the most complicated. The
purpose of this dataset was to collect all the available information on free port
shipping in the Caribbean during the relevant years, with an obvious focus on
St.Barthélemy. In the end, a large amount of data on the shipping of St.
Thomas was also included. The dataset combines two principal layouts, as
they are termed in Filemaker. The first layout is the passport registration
layout, where every single database entry is a ship registration with basic ship
and crew data, information on passport duration, place of registry, and so on.
The second layout is the so-called itinerary layout, where the entries consist
of voyage data. In individual cases in the latter layout, it has been possible to
collect many references for the same voyage, and thus trace a quite detailed
record of the ship route, as well as the goods carried. In the majority of cases,
information for individual ships is quite scarce, and there are only a few points
of information regarding the ship’s passage. Taken together, dataset (1)
includes 7,344 entries, out of which 4,507 are ship registrations whereas 2,790
are voyages. In a few hundred cases there are overlaps between registered
ships and their voyages, thus rendering a more complete picture of the
individual vessel in question.
Furthermore, the creation of databases also presents the constructor with
the problem of standardization. Dataset (1) is constructed of various sources
with widely differing proveniences. A large part is derived from the records of
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An example from dataset (1). The entry pertains to the 1787 round voyage of the Swedish ship Enigheten from Sweden to St. Barthélemy,
and is thus in the itinerary layout. On the top-left are metadata of the entry itself, such as creation dates etc., followed by data on the
ship, crew, passengers, and the route of the ship, complete with arrival and departure dates. The left-hand section includes a general
description field for comments and sundry information not easily included within the regular sections. The bottom-left section
contains the primary sources and secondary litterature that include any mention of the ship. The right-hand section includes data on
goods shipped, with source, destination, and quantity for each individual article.
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St. Barthélemy shipping in the Report of Saint Bartholomew, registration lists
and manifests found in the FSB, as well as material from the Sound Toll
Registers and the Danish National Archives. I have not striven for wideranging standardization of values and measurements in individual entries.
Instead, the ambition has been to recreate the original record. I have only
performed conversions when referring to specific ships in the text, according
to the method explained in Appendix II. Conflicting pieces of information
regarding individual ships is not uncommon, and is a result of several factors,
the most important of which is the incompleteness of the general records. It
is simply not possible to recreate most individual voyages in complete detail.
Conflicts of information and inconsistencies are especially prevalent
regarding flag colors and national affiliations. This is a common problem that
is due to the nature of the trade surveyed, and has been covered to an
appreciable extent in the thesis.
Dataset (2) and (3) have been covered in chapter 2.2 and 3, and deserves only
a few additional comments. The goal of dataset (2) was to collect all references
to the Swedish slave trade with some connection to St. Barthélemy, and as
such has been the dataset with the most serious conceptual problems
regarding national affiliation. It has however been structured as far as possible
in order to correspond to the information included in the Trans-Atlantic
Slave Trade (TAST) database, which includes two levels of national affiliation,
distinguishing between ship registration and ownership of the vessel. The
choice has also been made in order to harness the wealth of data in this
database, and hopefully to integrate the findings on the Swedish slave trade
into the online TAST resource in the near future. Finally, dataset (3) is a
database recreation of the information in one single source, and is the least
problematic of the three. It is the ambition of the author to make the datasets
available online in a convenient form for other researchers.
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Appendix VII
List of voyages made by the Swedish West India Company, 1787–1806
No. Year Name Ship type Tons Captain Øresund Date of
outwards
passage St B Date of arrival St B Date of departure Øresund Date of homewards passage Comments 1 1787 Enigheten Ship – Johan N. Damp 1784-11-26 1785-01-30 – 1785-09-10 Captured and condemned; Russia
2 1789 L’Amitié Brig – Etienne Morin – – – 1790-09-27
3 1791 Wälkomsten Brigantine – Petter Melin – 1791-04-20 – – Shipwrecked in St. Croix
4 1791 L’Apparence Snow 270 Anders Flodberg 1791-08-12 – – 1792-06-23
5 1791 L’Amerique Ship 238 A.F. Edling 1791-11-02 – – 1792-10-02
6 1792 L’Apparence Snow 270 Anders Flodberg 1792-10-01 – – 1793-07-03
7 1793 L’Apparence Snow 270 Anders Flodberg – – – 1795-06-30
8 1793 L’Amerique Ship 238 A.F. Edling 1793-11-03 1794-04-25 – 1794-08-25
9 1794 L’Amerique Ship 238 A.F. Edling 1794-11-19 1795-02-26 1795-07-14 1795-09-12
10 1795 L’Apparence Snow 270 Anders Flodberg 1795-09-23 1796-01-06 1796-04-17 1796-07-01
11 1795 L’Amerique Ship 238 A.F. Edling 1795-12-13 1796-04-03 1796-07-03 1796-09-09
12 1796 L’Apparence Snow 270 Anders Flodberg 1796-10-31 1797-01-24 1797-05-31 1797-07-22
13 1797 L’Amerique Ship 238 A.F. Edling 1797-10-26 – – – Shipwrecked in the English Channel
14 1798 L’Apparence Snow 270 Anders Flodberg 1798-09-04 – – 1799-07-17
15 1799 Triton Barque 328 Anders Flodberg 1799-10-23 – – 1800-07-03
16 1799 L’Apparence Snow 270 Lars Ekenberg 1799-11-29 – – 1800-09-09
17 1800 Triton Barque 328 Anders Flodberg 1800-11-11 – – 1803-06-15 Captured and cargo condemned: UK
18 1800 L’Apparence Snow 270 Lars Ekenberg 1800-12-18 – – – Stranded on the south coast of Norway
278
19 1803 Triton Barque 328 Anders Flodberg 1803-10-15 1804-04-24
20 1804 Triton Barque 328 Anders Flodberg 1804-10-26 1804-12-23
21 1806 Triton Barque 328 Anders Flodberg 1805-23-10 1806-01-17 1806-06-18 – Captured and condemned; France
Sources: SWIC Minutes, vols. 156–57, SWIC correspondence, vols. 168–70, Handel och sjöfart, SNA; Sound Toll Registers Online, 1787–
1806, “St Barts” destination and place of departure, http://dietrich.soundtoll.nl/public/places_standard.php?fromname=St%20Barts, and
http://dietrich.soundtoll.nl/public/places_standard.php?toname=St%20Barts, date accessed 17 February 2015.
Appendix VIII
List of known registered Swedish ships with a stated destination to St. Barthélemy from the Baltic, 1785–1815
No. Year Name Ship type Tons Captain Øresund Date of
outwards
passage St B Date of arrival St B Date of departure Øresund Date of homewards passage Comments 1 1785 Sprengtporten Frigate – Puke 1785-03-06 1785-06-30 – Royal navy expedition
2 1785 Antonetta Brig – G.A. Gyllenbååth – 1785-05-11 1785-06-12 – Owner: L.Kåhre; reg. in Gothenburg
3 1785 Fred och
Ymnoghet
Ship – Teuchler,
Andersson – 1785-12-24 – – Owner: N. Arfwidsson; reg. in Gothenburg
4 1785 Lovisa Fredrica Ship – A.A. Knape 1785-11-29 1786-02-03 1786-07-12 1786-08-24 Owners: L. Rejmers Persson, J.P. Müller,
A. Westerberg, Carl Arfwedsson, David
Schinckel; reg. in Stockholm
5 1785 St. Olof – – D.F. Hacker – – – – Owners: S.P. Rothstein, Hacker; reg. in
Gothenburg
6 1785 Sophia Brig 165 G.A. Gyllenbååth – 1786-03-11 1786-06-01 – Owners: Cullin, G.B. Santeson, J.P. & N.
Holterman, reg. in Gothenburg
7 1786 Expréen/ Brig 78 S. Granberg 1786-10-28 1787-05-10 1787-07-08 1787-10-22 Owner: Escholin, reg. in Åbo
279
Exprés
8 1786 St. Barthélemi – 255 G.A. Gyllenbååth – – – – Owners: Kåhre & Co. J.P. & N.
Holterman, reg. in Gothenburg
9 1787 Gåpå Sloop – G.W. Bagge – 1787-02-27 – – Royal navy expedition
10 1787 Gustaf Adolf – – Petterson – – – – Owner L. Kåhre, reg. in Gothenburg
11 1788 St. Barthélemy/
Måns
Sloop – Blom – 1788-02-05 1788-03-26 – Owner unknown
12 1788 Antonetta Brig – B.H. Knape – 1788-02-08 1788-06-20 – Owner: L. Kåhre; reg. in Gothenburg
13 1794 Swalan – 93 G. Willemoth – – – – Owner: Arfwedson & Co.; reg in
Gothenburg
14 1797 Fäderneslandet Ship – J. Sommer – 1795-06-29 – 1795-08-29 Owner unknown
15 1796 Margareta – 120 M. Börjeson – – – – Owner A. Gavin; reg. in Gothenburg
16 1796 Hedvig – 250 M. Andersson 1796-09-28 – – – Owners: Röhl & Hansen, J. Lychou; reg.
in Stockholm
17 1796 Susanna Ship – C. Berg – – – – Owner: Michel; reg. in Gothenburg
18 1796 Alexander
Magnus
Ship 250 A. Friberg – 1796-07-02 1796-12-21 – Owners: Peter Militz & Peter Wendelin;
reg. in Gothenburg
19 1797 Beata Brig 375 C. Berg – – – – Owners: Röhl & Hansen; reg. in
Stockholm
20 1797 Fäderneslandet – 300 C.F. Bergfeldt 1797-12-02 – – – Owners: C.G. Ekholm, J. Schmidt, J.
Westin, C.F. Bergfeldt; reg. in Stockholm
21 1797 Alexander – 375 J. Åkerman – – – – Owner: Seton & Co.; reg. in Stockholm
22 1797 Elisa – 240 C. Bergman – – – – Owner: Seton & Co.; reg. in Stockholm
23 1797 Baron
Liljencrants – 150 C. Radelof – – – – Owner: G.W. Bagge; reg. in Stockholm
24 1797 Atlas Brig – Westermarck – – – – Owner: Wölffer & Metzler; reg. in
Stockholm
25 1797 Medborgaren Frigate – A.N. Schale – 1797-07-01 – – Owners inter alia: L.E. Yvon, Röhl &
Hansen, Öström Procter & Co.; reg. in
Gothenburg
26 1798 Emanuel – 160 C. Wikström – – – – Owner: G. Brandt; reg. in Gothenburg
280
27 1798 Gustavia – 275 J.G. Hilleström 1798-10-18 – – 1799-07-21 Owners: Schön & Co., Röhl & Hansen;
reg.in Stockholm
28 1798 Minerva – 88 A. Hjortberg – – – – Owner: J. Hall & Co.; reg. in Gothenburg
29 1799 Maria – 108 H.P. Österberg – – – – Owner: Zygeström; reg. in Gothenburg
30 1799 Minerva – 88 A. Hjortberg – – – – Owner: J. Hall & Co.; reg. in Gothenburg
31 1799 Gustavia – 275 J.G. Hilleström 1799-12-04 1801-10-06 – – Owners: Seton & Co., Röhl & Hansen;
reg. in Stockholm
32 1799 Gustaf Adolph – 110 F. Olsson – – – – Owner: J.G. Westerberg; reg. in
Stockholm
33 1799 N/A – – J. Durees – – – – Owner unknown; possibly reg. in
Stockholm
34 1800 Amphion Brigantine – A. Graffman – 1800-09-27 – – Owner unknown; reg. in Stockholm
35 1802 Redligheten – – B. Ellström – – – – Owner: Seton & Co.; reg. in Stockholm
36 1804 Michael – 145 C.F. Hagelberg – – – 1804-08-04 Owner: M.P. Hambré; reg. in Stockholm
37 1805 Michael Brig – T. Childs – 1805-03-27 – – Owner unknown; possibly same as in no.
36 above.
38 1812 N/A – – N.P. Krook 1812-10-19 – – – Owner unknown: reg. in Gävle
39 1814 N/A – – B. Wallin 1814-06-16 – – – Owner unknown: reg. in Gothenburg
40 1814 N/A – – Z. Kolinius 1814-07-04 – – – Owner unknown: reg. in Gothenburg
41 1814 N/A – – M. Rumpt 1814-07-16 – – – Owner unknown: reg. in Gothenburg
42 1815 N/A – – J.F. Böst 1815-11-03 – – – Owner unknown: reg. in Stockholm
Sources: SWIC correspondence, vols. 168–70, Handel och sjöfart, SNA; Extract of Algerian passports, Board of Commerce to Gustav IV
Adolph, 12 June 1804, SNA; Sound Toll Registers Online, 1787–1815, “St Barts” destination and place of departure,
http://dietrich.soundtoll.nl/public/places_standard.php?fromname=St%20Barts, and
http://dietrich.soundtoll.nl/public/places_standard.php?toname=St%20Barts, date accessed 17 February 2015.
281
Appendix IX
List of slave ships with known Swedish or St. Barthélemy affiliation, 1787–1867
No. Year TAST No. Name Ship type Tons Flag Captain(s) Known owners and/or agents Slaves carried Affiliation and outcome Known stops 1 1787 William Schooner 61 Britain John Story N/A N/A 5A
2 1787 Anne* Sloop/Jachtship 92 N/A N/A N/A 32 5A St. Barthélemy
3 1787 Swift* Shooner 86 N/A N/A N/A 6 5A St. Barthélemy
4 1788 41844 Feliz Frigate 30 USA Alexandro
Bauden
N/A 228 5A* St. Barthélemy,
Louisiana*
5 1788 Hope* Brig 50 N/A N/A N/A 34 5A St. Barthélemy
6 1791 Amity Schooner 30 France J.P Benoit N/A 12 5F* St. Barthélemy*
7 1792 98852 Zombie/Zumbic Ship Sweden Richard Rogers Röhl & Hansen 100 1E Accra
8 1795 28209 Stockholm Sloop 58 Sweden Ferdinand
Deurer,
Peter Hassel,
John Hassel,
Adam Bird
Röhl & Hansen, G.
Wernberg, Lars
Rejmers Petterson
45 1A Havana
9 1795 83301 Regulator* Brig 133 Sweden/
Britain
Th. Dennett S. Parsons 226 3B Barbados
10 1796 La Resource Schooner N/A Sweden Desiderio
Biagino
Sebastiano Biagino N/A 3A New Barcelona
11 1797 Neptune
(formerly La
Neutralité)
Brigantine N/A Sweden Daniel Campbell Vaucrosson & fils
ainé
98 1A Havana
12 1797 Anna Maria* Schooner N/A Sweden Thomas
Simmons
Gustaf Wernberg 64 1F Havana
282
13 1798 13738 Neptune
(formerly La
Neutralité)
Brigantine N/A Sweden Daniel Campbell Vaucrosson & fils
ainé
185 1A Havana
14 1799 28208 Stockholm Brig 58 Sweden Ferdinand
Deurer
Röhl & Hansen, G.
Wernberg
198 1A St. Barthélemy
15 1800 36729 William &
Margaret
Schooner 95 USA John Read Jr.,
Meinhard
Soubiron
Thom Dennis 35* 5B St. Barthélemy
16 1801 24803 Carolina Frigate N/A Sweden Andre Hagberg N/A 86 2A Havana
17 1801 41545 Svea Schooner N/A Sweden Peter Wallender N/A 98 2A Puerto Rico
18 1801 Antelope Schooner N/A Sweden Blyder (Blyden) N/A 37 1A Havana
19 1802 13966 Carol (probably
Carolina)
Frigate N/A Sweden Xagleerg
(probably
Hagberg)
N/A 193 2A Havana
20 1803 La Petite Victoire Schooner N/A France W. Robin Vallée de Coudre 51 4F St. Barthélemy
21 1803 Antelope Schooner N/A Sweden Abel Blyden Jr. Martins de
Clarencieux, Juan
Macias, Samuel
Bonnet
41 1A New Barcelona
22 1803 Trosuhert Schooner N/A Sweden Gardiner N/A 57 2A Havana
23 1804 Eagle Schooner 55 Sweden Marsan J.J. Cremony N/A 1A St. Barthélemy
24 1804 Gagne ton Pain Sloop 10 Sweden François Romieu Castagnet &
Daumas
N/A 1A St. Barthélemy
25 1804 Distress Schooner 10 Sweden Warner (possibly
Cicero Warner
or relative)
Cicero Warner N/A 1A St. Barthélemy
26 1804 Polly Schooner 10 Sweden Wells (possibly
John Wells or
relative)
John Wells N/A 1A St. Barthélemy
27 1804 36987 Sally Schooner 40 Denmark Lundell, J. James Murphy 42 5A St. Barthélemy, Havana
28 1804 37281 Hoff Brig 156 Denmark Benjamin Hilton James Murphy 177 5A St. Barthélemy
283
29 1804 Dart Schooner N/A Sweden Lorkik (possibly
William Lordick)
N/A 66 3A Havana
30 1804 Active Schooner 30 Sweden Portelly (possibly
Jean Portelly or
relative)
Jean Portelly 51 1A Havana
31 1804 Active Schooner 58 Sweden Wilkinson Joseph Wilkinson 136 1A Havana
32 1805 40738 Elmira/Almira Schooner N/A USA Samuel
Sherbourne
N/A 46 5A Havana
33 1805 37279 Experiment Schooner N/A USA Mackintosh N/A 67 5A St. Barthélemy
34 1805 82201 Kitty’s Amelia Ship 272 Britain Newkable,
Nuttall, Thomas,
Forrest
Henry Clarke 210 4A St. Barthélemy
35 1805 83252 Prudence Brig 126 Britain Griffith,
Christian,
Charles
Henry Clarke 162 4A St. Barthélemy
36 1805 37282 Only Son Schooner 53 Sweden Lamitt J.J. Cremony, J.L.
Kidder
101 1A St. Barthélemy
37 1805 37280 Elisabeth Brig 93 Sweden Pyke John Franklin
Gibney
176 1A St. Barthélemy
38 1805 Aurora Schooner 83 Sweden Arnaud (possibly
Pierre Arnaud or
relative)
Gregorio Cevada,
Pierre Arnaud
146 1A Havana
39 1805 81421 Fanny Ship 171 Britain Archibald
Kennan
Samuel Newton 207 6C St. Barthélemy,
Guadeloupe
40 1806 25470 Samuel Ship 84 Denmark Ward, Griffiths Samuel Goodman 198 5A Charleston
41 1807 Dorade Schooner 12 Sweden Francis Roberts N/A 14 1A Dominica
42 1808 25513 Farnham* – N/A USA Burgess Röhl & Hansen 126 4A St. Barthélemy,
British Caribbean –
colony unspecified
43 1808 Le Fernand* N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A 5F N/A
44 1808 Betsy Schooner N/A Sweden Jacob Andres N/A N/A 1A Puerto Rico
284
45 1809 Rebecca Brig N/A Sweden James Cohen Clemente de Ichazo 84 1A Havana
46 1809 Nuestra Senora
del Carmen*
Schooner N/A Spain Manuel Moreira Ramon Navarro 152 6G St. Barthélemy
47 1810 7548 Diana Schooner N/A Sweden Berthé Jean Turenne 84 1C* Sierra Leone
48 1810 Rebecca Brig N/A Sweden James Cohen Clemente de Ichazo 80 1A Havana
49 1810 Lookout Schooner N/A Sweden Juan Ventre Clemente de Ichazo 40 1A Havana
50 1810 Hope Schooner N/A Sweden Richard Beale Clemente de Ichazo 24 1A Havana
51 1810 Eliza Schooner N/A Sweden Hiram Beaker Clemente de Ichazo 33 1A Havana
52 1810 Minerva Schooner N/A Sweden Francisco Coffee Pedro Carricaburu,
Santiago Martiartu
44 1A Havana
53 1810 San Francisco de
Asis*
Ship N/A Spain N/A Röhl & Hansen 140 4G St. Barthélemy
54 1810 Rebecca* Brig N/A N/A N/A Röhl & Hansen 193 1A St. Barthélemy
55 1811 Matilde Schooner N/A Sweden Carl Lindgren Clemente de Ichazo 150 1A Havana
56 1811 Eliza Schooner N/A Sweden Francisco Coffee Clemente de Ichazo 60 1A Havana
57 1814 N/A Brig N/A France N/A N/A 100 7F N/A
58 1815 Pilot Schooner 125 Sweden Devrever
(Deurer)
Elbers & Krafft 61 1A Havana
59 1818 N/A N/A N/A France N/A N/A N/A 7F N/A
60 1818 41899 S Jago de Cuba Brig N/A Spain/
Uruguay
N/A Martin Maher N/A 6E* St. Barthélemy,
Savannah
61 1820 112 Maria Schooner N/A Sweden Benoat N/A 160 1A Havana
62 1820 34190 La Protée/Le
Procès
N/A N/A France Coquart de
Pouliguen
Coquebert 330 6D French Caribbean,
various ports
63 1820 N/A N/A N/A Spain/
Portugal
N/A N/A N/A 6D French Caribbean,
various ports
64 1820 2329 Joseph N/A N/A Spain/
Urugay
de la Cruz Zachariah Atkins N/A 8C Sierra Leone
65 1821 Prometheus/Jolly Brig N/A N/A N/A N/A 380 6D N/A
66 1822 N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A 6D N/A
285
67 1822 N/A Hermaphrodite
Brig
N/A USA/
Colombia
N/A N/A N/A 6D St. Barthélemy
68 1823 2754,
34391
Le Prince
d’Orange/
Chasseur
N/A N/A France François
Thébaud,
Ruinet
Giraud, Renaud N/A 7F Puerto Rico
69 1823 34443 Jaloux N/A N/A Sweden Clark Titus (Philippe)
Bigard, William
Panilio
107 3C Guadeloupe
70 1824 La Clarisse Schooner N/A Sweden Simmons,
Sanguinetti,
Gaspard
Titus (Philippe)
Bigard, Alexis
Bernier
86 3B Puerto Rico, St. Thomas
71 1826 2842 Justin N/A 124 France Tardy Tardin de Roche N/A 7F N/A
72 1826 2878 L’Hermione Schooner 96 France Chirpoin, Gouy A. Boucannier,
A. Ferrand, Delisle,
Perillier
123 7C Cayenne
73 1827 Presidenta
(Bella
Escholha/Bella
Brazileira)
N/A N/A Buenos
Ayres
Beasley Haddocks, Dinzey 6 6F N/A
74 1827 2889 Flora N/A 82 France J. Daurs Guarud N/A 7F N/A
75 1828 Gaviota Ship N/A Bueons
Ayres
Dautant G. Röhl N/A 4G Guadeloupe
76 1828 Le Charles N/A N/A France Moras Bigard, Armuzier,
Montreuil
8 4A* St. Barthélemy
(Fourchue)
77 1828 34619 La Corine Schooner N/A France Jean Deglanne N/A 7C Gorée
78 1829 931 Nirzee/Niersée/
Estafeta
Brig N/A France N/A Bigard, Dejoye 280 4A Guadeloupe
79 1829 938 La Folie Schooner France Ptolélé N/A 127 7A Martinique
80 1829 2416 Félicité Brig 131 France Thomas
Dauthon
Chable 227 5A St. Barthélemy
81 1830 34659 La Vigilante Schooner N/A France N/A N/A N/A 7C Gorée
286
82 1831 Gotland/L’Etoile
du Nord
N/A N/A Sweden Samuel Vaughan Samuel Vaughan N/A 1G N/A
83 1831 34719 Man/Mars Schooner 56 France Raphael Liard, Francheschy N/A 7B Guadeloupe
84 1831 34721 Eglantine Schooner N/A France N/A N/A N/A 7G Guadeloupe
85 1831 Polina Schooner N/A Spain Ferrera Natta N/A 7G Cuba
86 1837 Victorina/Victoria Brig N/A Sweden N/A N/A N/A 1F N/A
87 1862 4984 Laura Brig 303 USA Dionissis Dionissis N/A 7G Antigua
Sources: Wilson dataset on the Swedish slave trade (2015); Richard Ledée, “Répertoire” de la traite négriére: Saint-Barthélemy (Suéde), otherwise
known as the CLASH catalogue, available at http://www.memoirestbarth.com/st-barts/traite-negriere/pdf/repertoire-traite-negriere-saintbarthelemy-suede.pdf, date accessed 18 June 2015.
287
Appendix X
List of ships in the CLASH catalogue which have been excluded from Appendix VI
No. Year TAST No. Name Ship type Tons Flag Captain(s) Owner(s) Slaves carried Affiliation/ Outcome Known stops
1 N/A Orbit USA Mentioned in
governor’s report in
connections w.
accusations against St
B. Orbit probably not
a slave vessel
2 1795 80856 Cleveland Brig 127 Britain William
Rogers
N/A 120 Only loose St B
affiliation
3 1799 Peggy USA Vessel sold in St B
after completion of
voyage
4 1800 36734 Success Schooner 111 USA Paul
Brownell
W. Greene 101 Only loose St B
affiliation
5 1803 82448 Margaret &
Eliza
Brig 163 Thomas
Barry,
Postlethwaite
William
Thompson,
Samuel
Clough
250 Purchased and
naturalized after
slaves disembarked at
another location
6 1806 25457 Gustavia Ship 300 USA/
Sweden?
M. Hill Spencer
John Man
250 No apparent
affiliation with St.
Barthélemy except for
the name
Charleston
288
7 1807 36948 Nancy Schooner 106 USA Joshua Viall John Phillip 70 St B a possible
destination, but
captured before
completion of voyage
8 1815 Hannibal Schooner N/A Sweden N/A N/A N/A no slaves onboard
(“staves” misread in
source)
Savannah
9 1818 N/A N/A Vague St B affiliation
10 1818 N/A N/A Vague St B affiliation
11 1819 N/A N/A Vague St B affiliation
12 1819 N/A N/A Vague St B affiliation
13 1819 N/A N/A Vague St B affiliation
14 1820 N/A N/A Vague St B affiliation
15 1820 34197 La Thereza N/A N/A France Suarez da
Costa
N/A 192 Reloaded slaves to a
Danish vessel in
Guadeloupe, with St B
as the intended next
destinaton. Unclear if
it ever reached St B.
Guadeloupe
16 1824 N/A N/A Vessel’s owners tried
to procureSwedish
documents for a
voyage to Africa
17 1825 34472 La Venus Schooner 88 France Yves Allain,
André
Debarbès
Dubuc N/A Based at St. Thomas,
only recommended to
buy ballast iron at St.
Barthélemy before
departing for the
coast.
Guadeloupe
18 1826 N/A N/A N/A France N/A N/A N/A Arrived in St B fter
disembarking slaves in
Guadeloupe, arrived
Guadeloupe
289
with a crewmember
with supposed
smallpox
19 1827 N/A N/A N/A Buenos
Ayres
N/A N/A N/A Corsair, tried to sell a
prize in Gustavia,
denied. Commercial
exchange with French
schooner on open sea,
where slaves were part
of deal.
Guadeloupe
20 1827 N/A Buenos
Ayres
Joseph
Almeida
N/A The owner was Joseph
Almeida, St B burgher
1823–27 and veteran
privateer involved in
piracy and slave
trading. Unclear if he
used St B as base of
slaving operations.
21 1828 Nymph USA N/A American prize
brought into St B by
Bueonis Ayres
privateer Federal.
Nymph’s confirmed
destination was the
coast of West Africa,
but itself not
confirmed as a slave
ship.
22 1828 N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A American sea captain
testified to have seen a
slave ship nearby St B;
290
Swedish governors
denied this.
23 1829 N/A France N/A Short citation of
accusations of slaving
activity in St B.
24 1830 34636 Auguste/De
ux Frères
Brig 212 France François
Julien
Santuary
Renault 444 Disembarked 1
mariner at St B after
slaving voyage
otherwise
unconnected with St
B.
25 1833 N/A N/A A shipment of
gunpowder from St B
to St Thomas,
supposedly going into
a Spanish slave ship’s
cargo. G. Röhl
implicated in the deal.
Sources: Wilson dataset on the Swedish slave trade (2015); Richard Ledée, “Répertoire” de la traite négriére: Saint-Barthélemy (Suéde), otherwise
known as the CLASH catalogue, available at http://www.memoirestbarth.com/st-barts/traite-negriere/pdf/repertoire-traite-negriere-saintbarthelemy-suede.pdf, date accessed 18 June 2015.
291
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October–December, 1812.
CO 319/7 Windward and Leeward Islands, 1801–02.
Ruuthska samlingen
C.F. Bagge till Erik Ruuth, 16 juni, 12 juli & 5 juli 1790
Saint Barthélemy-samlingen
1 A Dokument rörande övertagandet av S:t Barthélemy 1784–1804.
1 B:1 Guvernörsrapporter etc. 1784–1800.
1 B:2 Guvernörsrapporter etc. 1784–1800.
1 C Guvernör Ankarheims rapporter etc. 1800–11.
2 Guvernör Ankarheims och Stackebergs rapporter etc. 1812–13.
3 A Guvernör Stackelbergs rapporter etc. 1814.
3 B Guvernör Stackelbergs rapporter etc. 1815.
4 A Guvernör Stackelbergs och Rosenswärds rapporter etc. 1815.
4 B Guvernör Rosenswärds rapporter etc. 1816–17.
5 A Guvernör Rosenswärds och Berghults rapporter etc. 1818.
5 B Diverse rättsdokument och protokoll från S:t Barthélemy 1818.
6 A Guvernör Berghults och Norderlings rapporter etc. 1819.
6 B Diverse rättsdokument och protokoll från S:t Barthélemy 1819.
7 A Guvernör Norderlings rapporter etc. 1820.
7 B Guvernör Norderlings rapporter etc. 1821.
8 A Guvernör Norderlings rapporter etc. 1822.
8 B Guvernör Norderlings rapporter etc. 1823.
9 A Guvernör Norderlings, Haasums och Morsings rapporter etc.
1824–26.
9 B Guvernör Haasums och Morsings rapporter etc. 1827.
294
10 A Guvernör Haasums och Morsings rapporter etc. 1828–29.
10 B Guvernör Haasums rapporter etc. 1830.
11 Guvernör Haasums och Morsings rapporter etc. 1831–32.
12 A Guvernör Haasums och Morsings rapporter etc. 1833.
12 B Guvernör Haasums rapporter etc. 1834–35.
13 Guvernör Haasums rapporter etc. 1836–39.
14 Guvernör Haasums och C. Ulrichs rapporter etc. 1840–44.
15 Guvernör Haasums och C. Ulrichs rapporter etc. 1845–49.
16 Guvernör Haasums och C. Ulrichs rapporter etc. 1850–54.
17 Guvernör Haasums och C. Ulrichs rapporter etc. 1855–60.
18 Guvernör C. Ulrichs rapporter etc. 1861–64.
19 Guvernör C. Ulrichs och Netherwoods rapporter etc. 1865–68.
20 Guvernör B. Ulrichs rapporter etc. 1869–73.
21 A Guvernör B. Ulrichs rapporter etc. 1874–75.
21 B Guvernör B. Ulrichs rapporter etc. 1876–78.
22 A Diverse dokument och korrespondens 1799–1816.
22 B Diverse dokument och korrespondens 1820–73.
23 Diverse dokument och korrespondens, utkast, memorialer etc.
1785–1744.
24 Diverse trycksaker, officiella utfästelser, tidningar etc. 1807–1863.
25 A Räkenskaper 1793–96.
25 B Räkenskaper 1796–1801.
25 C Räkenskaper 1801–05.
25 D Räkenskaper 1806–08.
25 E Räkenskaper 1809–12.
26 A Diverse räkenskaper.
27 A Handlingar och räkenskaper för S:t Barthélemyfonden 1812–70.
28 Inventarieförteckningar m.m. 1788.
Folkräkningar 1787, 1788, 1796.
Anmärkningar om staden Gustavias och landsbygdens kvarter.
Fartygslistor 1787 (mars–december).
30 A Räkenskaper 1812–13.
30 B Räkenskaper 1814.
31 A Räkenskaper 1815.
31 B Räkenskaper 1816.
51 Diverse handlingar.
Kungörelser och författningstryck m.m.
Sten Simonssons samling
vol. 7 Vaucrosson, ed. Handlingar Uti Det hos Kong:l Maj:t anhängiga
Mål, angående den af handelshuset på Öen St. Barthélemy, Vaucrosson
& Son, i underdånighet förda klagan öfwer wåldsam medfart af
Gouverneuren och Conseillen på nämnde Ö, m.m. Stockholm,
Nordström, 1799.

295
Swedish Royal Library (Kungliga biblioteket, Stockholm)
Engeströmska samlingen
M 298 Lorich, Severin, ”Rapport sur ses voyages en 1816 et 1817 à S:t
Barthélemy à Haiti, aux Etats Unis de l’Amerique du Nord et en
Egypte.” 30 May 1818.
Newspapers
The Report of Saint Bartholomew
Inrikes tidningar
Stockholms stadsarkiv
Abrahamssonska familjearkivet
Correspondence between the Haddocks and Lönner families, 1820–40
Antikvarisk-topografiska arkivet hos Riksarkivarieämbetet
Vitterhetsakademiens handskriftssamling
F 16:20 Röhl, Hjalmar Jacob Eliasson, ”Wördsamt Memorial.” 14 januari

Uppsala University Library (Uppsala universitetsbibliotek)
Fredrik Gyllenborgs brevsamling
Hans Hindric Ankarheim till Fredrik Gyllenborg, 20 oktober
Gustavianska samlingen
F 420 Granville Sharp till Gustav III, odaterat, 1790.
F 479 Gustav III till G. Ph. Creutz, 10 september 1779.
Newspapers
The Report of Saint Bartholomew

296
Pehr Olof von Asps handskrifter
F 812g:7 Pehr Olof von Asp, ”Om Ultramarinska Besittningar, i anseende
till den nytta eller skada som, för en Europeisk Magt af 2ra eller
3je ordningen, kan af dem härröra,” utkast till pro memoria, 12
februari 1802.
Danish National Archives (Rigsarkivet København)
Generaltoldkammeret, ældre del, vestindisk-guineisk renteskriverkontor
365: 384 Udskrift af St. Jan og St. Thomas søpasprotokol 1788–1807
365: 488 Breve till direktionen for Det vestindiske handelsselskab 1801–

365: 496 Dokumenter betræffende toldvæsendet 1779–1789.
365: 490 Ekstrakter, beregninger etc. vedr. den vestindiske handel, told og
skibsfart 1764–1856.
Reviderede vestindiske regnskaber
S–12573 Matrikel for St. Thomas og St. Jan 1755–1915.
571: 127.5 Toldregnskaber St. Thomas 1784–90.
571: 127.6 Toldregnskaber St. Thomas 1791–1800.
571: 127.7 Toldregnskaber St. Thomas 1801–07.
Vestindiske lokalarkiver
693: 11.53.169 St. Thomas og St. Jan guvernement mm; Gruppeordnede sager –
Sociale og kulturelle forhold; Fortegnelse over indbyggerne på St.
Thomas 1806.
693: 11.53.171 St. Thomas og St. Jan guvernement mm; Gruppeordnede sager –
Sociale og kulturelle forhold; Borgerbrevsprotokol 1755–88.
693: 11.53.230 St. Thomas og St. Jan guvernement mm; Gruppeordnede sager –
Næaringsvæsen; Beskyldning om indbyggeres slavehandel på St.
Thomas 1825.
705: 17.1.12 St. Thomas borgerråd; Forhandlingsprotokller 1783–1855.
Danish Royal Library (Det kongelige bibliotek København)
Newspapers
Dansk Vestindisk Regierings-Avis
Sanct Thomas Tidende
The Saint Thomas Gazette
297
The United States National Archives and Records
Administration
Record Group 59: General Records of the the Department of State
M28 Diplomatic and consular Instructions of the Department of
State, 1791–1801.
M38 Notes to Foreign Ministers and consuls in the United States from
the Department of State, 1793–1834.
M60 Notes from the Swedish legation in the United States to the
Department of State, 1813–1906.
M664 Notes from foreign consuls in the Unites States to the
Department of State, 1789–1906.
M72 Despatches from U.S. consuls in St. Bartholomew, 1799–1899.
M77 Diplomatic Instructions of the Department of State, 1801–1906.
M78 Consular Instructions of the Department of State, 1801–1834.
T208 Despatches from U.S. consuls in Guadeloupe, 1802–1906.
T230 Despatches from U.S. consuls in Stockholm, Sweden, 1810–1906.
T350 Despatches from U.S. consuls in St. Thomas, 1804–1906.
T431 Despatches from U.S. consuls in St. Pierre, Martinique, 1790–
Archives departementales de la Guadeloupe
2L Tribunal de prises de Basse-Terre
vol. 28 Documents des bateaux saisis, Louisa (brick americain).
vol. 35 Documents des bateaux saisis, Sterling (brick americain).
vol. 38 Documents des bateaux saisis, Vulture (brick americain).
vol. 41 Documents des bateaux saisis, Industry (brick americain).
vol. 127 Documents des bateaux saisis, Neptune (brick suédois).
vol. 170 Documents des bateaux saisis, Triton (navire suédois).
vol. 178 Documents des bateaux saisis, Success (navire suédois).
vol. 191 Documents des bateaux saisis, Aurora (goélette suédois).
vol. 196 Actes notariels, Saint Barthélemy 1793.
vol. 197 Actes notariels, Saint Barthélemy 1794.
vol. 198 Actes notariels, Saint Barthélemy 1795.
vol. 199 Actes notariels, Saint Barthélemy 1796.
vol. 200 Actes notariels, Saint Barthélemy 1797 jan–sept.
vol. 201 Actes notariels, Saint Barthélemy 1797 sept –1798 juin.
vol. 202 Actes notariels, Saint Barthélemy 1798 jul–sept.
vol. 203 Actes notariels, Saint Barthélemy 1799 juin–dec.
vol. 204 Actes notariels, Saint Barthélemy 1800.
vol. 205 Actes notariels, Saint Barthélemy 1801.
vol. 206 Actes notariels, Saint Barthélemy 1797–1802.
298
Archives nationales d’outre mer
Fonds suédois de Saint-Barthélemy
Serie M 1 Manifestes 1805–19.
Serie PF 59–72 Proces-verbaux de finance 1812–30.
Serie C 73–78 Comptes 1790–1877.
Serie RG 125–27 Rapportes des Gouverneurs 1816–44.
Serie PG 128–29 Proces–verbaux du Conseil de Gouvernement
1812–40.
Serie L 134–35 Decrets et proclamations 1787–1878.
Serie PJT 136–39 Journaux et listes 1801–36.
Serie PJ 140–249 Proces-verbaux du Conseil de Justice 1784–1836.
Serie NP 250–55 Documents appartenant au Notaire Public 1783,
1785, 1792, 1801, 1810, 1815.
Serie C 256–64 Correspondance 1784–1878.
Serie AM 265–275bis Affaires Maritimes 1778–1878.
Serie N 276–280 Documents concernant des naturalisations 1796–
Serie DT 281–84 Documents concernant la defence 1814–78.
Serie ES 285–86 Documents sur l’esclavage 1802–48.
Serie E 287–91 Documents sur l’etat civil du population 1756, 1785,
1786, 1791, 1800.
Serie PO 292–93 Roles de recensement 1787–1872.
Serie R 294–95 Documents sur l’excercise des cultes 1795–1876.
Serie D 296–300bis Documents divers
Serie S 301–17 Inventaires des Successions 1787–1839.
N/A 325 Documents non-inventoires 1785–1877.

Hôtel de la Collectivité de Saint-Barthélemy
Matrice Cadastrale Suédoise
ca. 1791–1900 Register of real estate in the town of Gustavia
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Victor Wilson
Commerce in Disguise
War and Trade in the Caribbean Free Port of Gustavia, 1793–1815
Victor Wilson | Commerce in Disguise | 2015
Victor Wilson
Commerce in Disguise
War and Trade in the Caribbean Free
Port of Gustavia, 1793–1815
The thesis studies the economic role of the free
port of Gustavia on the island of St. Barthélemy,
the Swedish colony in the Caribbean, during the
French Revolutionary Wars of 1793–1815.
Departing from an unexplored source material, the
study shows that Gustavia attained a temporary yet
exceptional position during the period of international conflict, which showed in the sizeable flows
of cargo in transit through the Swedish colony as
well as the increasing shipping under the Swedish
flag in the region.
Åbo Akademis förlag | Åbo Akademi University Press ISBN 978-951-765-806-5
9 789517 658065

Posted by Will Johnson in Uncategorized

by Will Johnson

*6,000

1,141

total —

1,752

585

10

8

–

–

28

528

White —

682

Free Black —

80

–

–

388

Slaves —

981

4

–

Coast —

1

1

–

Caribbean

–

3 -2 -1

8

184

–

Coast

–

n/a

14

319

–

Caribbean

598

152

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