Footnotes
| 1 |
In particular, see Drescher (2009), pp. 23–25, 66–67, 93–97, 100–105, Peabody and Grinberg (2011), pp.
331–339.
| 2 |
Peabody and Grinberg (2011), p. 395, Drescher (2009), pp. 22–23.
| 3 |
Smith (1583), Book III, Chap. 8. The book is freely consultable at http://www.constitution.org/eng/repang.htm.
| 4 |
Harrison (1876). I have used the 1876 translation by F. J. Furnivall (the book was originally published in 1577).
| 5 |
de Pitaval (1750), tome quatorzième. This is the written report of the 1738 case of the black slave Jean Boucaux against his master Verdelin at the Admiralty of France. Gayot de Pitaval, the compiler of the series, has included the pleadings of Boucaux and Verdelin’s lawyers, next to that of the procureur du roi le Clerc du Brillet. This work is invaluable to discover which legal arguments were used to establish the freedom principle. As concerns the role of the Catholic Church in the decline of slavery in the medieval era, I refer to what has been said before.
| 6 |
Peabody (2011).
| 7 |
Drescher (2009), pp. 23–24, Peabody and Grinberg (2011), p. 335.
| 8 |
Peabody and Grinberg (2011). For an author using the Middelburg case of 1596 as an expression of the Dutch freedom principle, see Drescher (2009), p.
23.
| 9 |
Nys (1890), p. 69.
| 10 |
Glanvill, Book V [5]; Bracton F. 4.
| 11 |
Hilton (1969), pp. 51–55.
| 12 |
Littleton has summed up these implicit means of manumission in his New Tenures. Littleton (1903), Chap. XI, S202–209. I have made use of Eugene Wambaugh’s 1903 translation of Littleton’s New Tenures (originally written ca. 1450–1460).
| 13 |
Glanvill, Book V [5–6].
| 14 |
Bracton, F. 190.
| 15 |
Holdsworth (1922), p. 494. In one of the slave cases Granville Sharp was involved in (Hylas v. Newton), he also used this argument to plead for the freedom of the slave (“Hylas lived more than a Year and a day in a free State without being claimed; by which circumstance alone he is certainly enfranchised”). Sharp’s Remarks on Hylas v Newton in Lyall (2017), pp. 339–343.
| 16 |
On the origins of this maxim, generally see Mitteis (1952), Strahm (1953).
| 17 |
Alsford (2011).
| 18 |
For an example of the usage of the favor libertatis in the eighteenth century by a lawyer, see Hargrave (1772), pp. 29–32.
| 19 |
Bracton F. 105B; F. 190. The English lawyer might be surprised to learn that the pedigree of the principle actually did not originate in the common law, but was just borrowed by Bracton from Roman law, where it was part of a broader principle of benigniora praeferenda (Dig.
50.17.56). This meant that in doubtful cases, the more favourable/liberal construction was to be preferred. In the case of villeinage, this was used in favour of the villein.
| 20 |
Savine (1903), pp. 256–261.
| 21 |
The best treatment of the principle can be found in Hyams (1980). He convincingly asserts that the principle did not yet break through in the 13th century. Ibid., pp. 201–219. For examples on how the procedure in villeinage cases came to be skewed in favour of liberty, see Hargrave (1772), pp. 29-32.
| 22 |
Alleged villeins increasingly brought these actions themselves in the fifteenth century. Writs of trespass vi et armis and trespass on the case were concerned with the punishment and amends for past transgressions by defendants. The former encompassed wrongs committed “with force and arms” against the king’s peace, whereas the latter was used for all kinds of other wrongs. Baker (2002), pp. 61–64.
| 23 |
Baker (1995), pp. 187–191.
| 24 |
The fact that the status of bastardy was preferred above villeinage, was called bastardia contra villenagium by some contemporaries. MacCulloch (1988), pp. 101–105.
| 25 |
Ibid., p. 93. Contemporary writers such as Littleton (New Tenures) and Coke (first part of his Institutes of the Laws of England, also called Coke on Littleton) discussed villeinage elaborately. Savine believes that this does not necessarily teach us much more about the contemporary state of villeinage, as he believes that “the learned authors of the time made little, if any, difference between things dead and alive, and perhaps lived under the old law more than under the new one”, Savine (1903), p.
243.
| 26 |
Lords watched carefully over the payment of dues such as the heriot (a death duty), merchet (payment for permission for the daughter to marry), chevage (payment for permission to live outside of the manor) and fines for admittance. Savine (1903), p. 276.
| 27 |
Ibid., pp. 270–275.
| 28 |
Ibid., p. 243.
| 29 |
Baker (2002), p. 472. The last case on villeinage was Pigg v. Caley (1617) 74 E.R. 997, in which the jury made a verdict in favour of the purported villein. In the case of Somerset v. Stewart, Chief Justice Mansfield held that one could still be a villein in gross, but not a villein regardant, as he believed it to have been abolished by a statute of 1660. Somerset v. Stewart (1772) Lofft, 12.
| 30 |
Bush (1996), pp. 610–615. In general, see Steinfeld (1991).
| 31 |
Pound (1971), pp. 1–3.
| 32 |
For a short overview of the state’s involvement in poor relief, see Slack (1995).
| 33 |
Pound (1971), pp. 37–41.
| 34 |
Ibid.
| 35 |
The Statutes of the Realm, Vol. 4, 1 Edw. VI, c. 3. I will refer to the relevant articles of the statute where appropriate.
| 36 |
The justices of the peace had their origin in the 13th century, when a number of knights were appointed by the king to “keep the peace” at the local level.
The system was regularised under Edward III (1327–1377), when they received an increased number of judicial powers at the local level (e.g. enquiring into, hearing and determining several crimes). Baker (2002), p. 25.
| 37 |
Art. I, Art. IV.
| 38 |
In English criminal law, felonies were those crimes in which the wrongdoer could be sentenced to lose his life, his lands and his personal goods. Baker, An Introduction to English Legal History, 502.
| 39 |
Art. VI.
| 40 |
Art. III.
| 41 |
Art. IX–XII.
| 42 |
Art. XVII.
| 43 |
Davies (1966), pp. 537–545.
| 44 |
The Statutes of the Realm, Vol. 4, 3 and 4 Edw. VI, c. 16.
| 45 |
Davies (1966), pp. 545–548.
| 46 |
The levellers were a group of radical dissenters in the English Civil War (1642–1649) who called for the abolition of the monarchy, social and agrarian reforms, and religious freedom.
| 47 |
Rushwordt (1721), p. 464. Besides the royal common law courts and the Court of Chancery as an equity court, there existed (besides the many local courts) conciliar courts in England. Essentially, they were used to deal with cases that were within the residuary royal prerogative of justice.
The two most important such courts were the Court of Star Chamber and the Court of Requests. For a while, Star Chamber was nothing more than the King’s council meeting in a certain place. Under Cardinal Wolsey’s chancellorship (1515–1529), it would increase its civil jurisdiction and eventually became a separate court by 1540. It did not have a very precise material jurisdiction, mainly serving for cases which had both a civil and criminal element. It was brought down in 1641, after a series of unpopular prosecutions had given it an association with tyrannical government. At the same time, its civil law procedures were always viewed as suspicious by the common law courts. These were quick to take over the workload of the Star Chamber after its abolishment. Baker (2002), pp. 118–121, Cheyney (1913).
| 48 |
Rushwordt (1721), pp. 464–466.
| 49 |
Hargrave (1772), pp. 50–52.
| 50 |
Bush (1996), p. 610. Standards of reporting cases were generally of an inferior nature before 1750, which means that the fact that it was not reported does not conclusively establish that the case never took place Baker (2002), pp. 182–184.
| 51 |
“First Hearing in the Court of King’s Bench, 7 February 1772—Arguments of Serjeants Davy and Glynn” in Lyall (2017), p. 182.
| 52 |
Cobbett (1805), p. 1354.
| 53 |
Hargrave (1772), 51–52.
| 54 |
Somerset v. Stewart (1772) Lofft 12.
| 55 |
Kesselring (2018).
| 56 |
Cook (1646).
| 57 |
Adair (1920), pp. 497–512.
| 58 |
Guasco (2014), pp. 33–38.
| 59 |
Adair (1920), pp. 511–512.
| 60 |
Hargrave (1772), p. 20. We will turn back to this discussion when assessing the more numerous French galleys, where we will try to make a dividing line between forçats and captured Turks, the latter more resembling “true slaves”.
| 61 |
Brunsman (2013), p. 2.
| 62 |
Ibid., p. 47.
| 63 |
Rogers (2007), p. 22.
| 64 |
On impressment and the law, see Ibid., pp. 17–35.
| 65 |
Brunsman (2013), p. 7.
Ibid., p. 121.
| 67 |
Coke (1830), Section 172–212. I have made use of the 1830 translation by Thomas Coventry (Coke on Littleton was originally published in 1628).
| 68 |
Hale (1713), Section XXI.
| 69 |
Bush (1993), pp. 445–446.
| 70 |
Davies (1966), p. 547, Savine (1903), pp. 238–242.
| 71 |
Bush (1996), p. 610. For doubts about the validity of Harrison’s statement, see i.a. Holdsworth (1922), p. 507, MacCulloch (1988), p. 92, Savine (1903), p. 239, Davies (1966), p. 547.
| 72 |
Tugendhat (2017).
| 73 |
Olivier-Martin (2010), pp. 289–292.
| 74 |
Gallet (2010), pp. 1160–1163.
| 75 |
Ibid.
| 76 |
Bodin discusses slavery as a separate topic in his Six livres de la république, which was first published in 1576. Whilst the first version of his book was written in French, he also made a separate Latin version in 1584 which diverged on several points from the French edition. That explains why, just as scholars Sue Peabody and Brett Rushforth have done, I turn to Knolles’ English translation of the work. In this 1606 edition, Knolles tried to combine both the French and Latin versions, thus giving the best possible idea of Bodin’s views. As regards the 1315 ordonnance, Bodin said of it that “Lewes Hutin, who came to the crowne in the yeare 1313 [Bodin made a mistake here, as the ordonnance was made in 1315] (the selfe same time that Bartholus liued) set at libertie all slaues for money to defray the charges of his warres; that is, as I take it, to be vnderstood of manumised men, which we call Mort-maines” Bodin (1606).
| 77 |
de Pitaval (1750), p. 340. I discuss this case later.
| 78 |
I have not systematically searched for all books claiming this, but a simple search on Google books with the entry “Abolition of slavery France 1315” renders a long list of books in all fields of study still making this claim. Even very recent literature sometimes makes this assertion, see for example Tugendhat (2017), p. 4.
| 79 |
Lettre de Louis X le Hutin portant que les serfs du Domaine du Roi seront affranchise, moyennant finance, 3 juillet 1315 in Boulle and Peabody (2014), pp. 21–22. All great collections of French edicts mention this letter, because the original ordonnance has not been found in the French archives.
| 80 |
In Medieval and Early Modern France, there was a clear distinction between the Kingdom of France and the royal domain. When the Capetian dynasty first came to power, it only controlled a small swathe of territory directly, mostly centred on Paris, which became known as the domaine royal. Whilst the rest of the great lords of the kingdom did acknowledge the Capetian king to be the ruler of the regnum Francorum, the relationship between the king and the great lords was really one of lord and vassal. This meant that the king only had limited powers over the lands of his strongest vassals. One of the chief characteristics of Ancien Régime France would be a continued extension of the royal domain, a process which was nearly completed by the sixteenth century but continued right until the French Revolution Barbey (2010), pp. 424–426.
| 81 |
Bloch (1920), pp. 163–172.
| 82 |
Ibid., pp. 172–176.
| 83 |
Hans von Strahm summarised this as “Anders als freiwillig konnte es [das Dienstverhältnis] allein nur durch die Schuld des Herrn verwirkt werden, und zwar durch länger dauernde Nichtnutzung oder durch “Verschweigung” dieses Dienstes. Säumte der Herr mit der Geltendmachung seines Anspruchs auf das Servitium länger als Jahr und Tag, so hatte er sich verschwiegen. Sein nicht genutztes Recht verfiel. Er wurde durch dessen Verlust bestraft, vorausgesetzt, daß der Servus einen Richter fand, der ihn schützte”, see Strahm (1953), p. 108.
| 84 |
Ourliac and Gazzaniga (1985), Section 3.
| 85 |
As Van Caenegem stated, “the chronology of the rise and extension of the privilege is not as well known as we would wish”. He also notes how the first Spanish charters did not make mention of a term of residence, but that the year and a day requirement was found in the earliest French charters when the principle spread north Van Caenegem (1990), pp. 95–87, Nicholas (1997), pp. 155–157.
| 86 |
For a complete, recent overview of the freedom principle in Toulouse, see Peabody (2011). An example of a town charter (Lorris) including a freedom principle clause can be found in Boulle and Peabody (2014), p. 20. Clause 18 of the charter held that a person staying in the city for a year and a day, without being reclaimed by any authority during this period, and paying taxes, would be “libre de sa personne et jouira des droits de domicile”.
| 87 |
Customary law was an important source of law in Ancient France. At the end of the Middle Ages, customs were increasingly written down and submitted to the king, as this made it easier to bring structure to the plethora of different customs in France and to effectively know the rules. This process was strengthened after the promulgation of the 1454 ordonnance of Montils-les-Tours, which ordered customs to be written down. Rigaudière (2010), pp. 426–442.
| 88 |
Titre IV (Concernant les hommages) de la Coutume de Toulouse, art. 155b, 1283 in Boulle and Peabody (2014), p. 21.
| 89 |
Verlinden (1955), p. 814.
| 90 |
Peabody (2011), p. 352.
| 91 |
The capitouls of Toulouse were the municipal government of Toulouse during the Middle Ages and the Early Modern Era. Next to administrative functions, they also had various military and legal competences.
| 92 |
This decision, which was first described by a seventeenth century French lawyer in the Annales de la ville de Toulouse, is reprinted and translated in English in Peabody (2011), p. 343. Independent Catalan sources also confirmed the existence of the case, thus enhancing the veracity of the report.
| 93 |
Ibid.
| 94 |
Verlinden (1955), pp. 815–817, Peabody (2011), p. 353.The procureur du roi was part of the King’s public ministry (ministère public). At regular courts, one could find a procureur du roi, whereas at the sovereign Parlements, there would be a procureur-général. They were royal officers charged not only with defending the interests of the King, but also the interests of the public at large when the public interest was at stake, Rigaudière (2010), pp. 621–623. The Parlements of France were the most important courts of France. They were sovereign courts of last resort. The earliest and most important Parlement was the Parlement de Paris, whose jurisdiction stretched over one third of the kingdom. In the course of the fifteenth century, many other sovereign parlements were made, like the Parlement de Toulouse, created in 1443, Chaline (2010), pp. 960–965.
| 95 |
Peabody (2011), p. 354.
| 96 |
Ibid.
| 97 |
Verlinden (1955), p. 817.
| 98 |
Ibid., 817–818.
| 99 |
The importance of Antoine Loisel’s work cannot be overstated. After the 1454 ordonnance of Montils-les-Tours, a new push to write down the customs of various areas had begun in earnest. On the basis of those customs, a group of scholars (“les commentateurs”) started writing down commentaries on the various customs. Superposed on their work, we can find Conférences de coutumes, which are systematic attempts to come to the biggest common denominator of the various customs of France. The most famous attempt to come to an overview of the various French customs is Antoine Loisel’s 1607 Institutions coutumières. The fact that the freedom principle takes its place as the third principle in the title “Des personnes” shows that the principle was perceived to be a national French principle by this time Loisel (1607), Livre I, Tit. I, III.
| 100 |
Rushforth (2012), pp. 81–82.
| 101 |
Le parlement de Guyenne libère des esclaves Africans (1571), commentaires de Gabriel de Lurbe, Jean de Gaureteau et Pierre Guillebaud in Boulle and Peabody (2014), pp. 27–28. Peabody and Boulle have mentioned the reports of three writers, with two of them being independent from each other, thus enhancing the credibility of the report.
| 102 |
The arrêt de règlement can be defined as a decision with a limited scope, made by the sovereign courts with the aim to make supplementary and provisional rules within their ressort. This was sometimes done when the written laws, customs and jurisprudence could not offer a conclusive answer to a certain legal issue, Rigaudière (2010), pp. 678–683.
| 103 |
Rushforth (2012), pp. 81–82.
| 104 |
Lettres-Patentes concernant les Portugais et Espagnols du 11 November 1574 in Moreau de Saint-Méry (1784), 9.
| 105 |
Rushforth (2012), p. 87. It is difficult to conclusively establish that this is the case, as the lettres patentes use the term serviteur and not esclave.
| 106 |
Bodin (1606), 42.
| 107 |
The French 1576 version indicates that the capitouls wanted to declare the slave free on the basis of “de la coutume générale du royaume que d’un privilege spécial que l’Empereur Théodose le grand leur donna”. The reference to Emperor Theodosius is related to a mythical, but incorrect origin of the freedom principle of Toulouse. In the Knolles edition, it is said that it was the procureur du roi who pointed out the free soil custom of Toulouse. In this version, there is no reference to a broader, French freedom principle. For the French 1576 version, see Jean Bodin sur le principe du sol libre, 1576 in Boulle and Peabody (2014), pp. 22–24.
| 108 |
See Footnote 106.
| 109 |
de Pitaval (1750), 358.
| 110 |
Louis le Caron, also known as Charondas, was especially known for his work on the customs of Paris. See Arabeyre (2007), pp. 479–480.
| 111 |
le Caron (1637), Livre II, Chap. II. The first edition of his work was published in 1593.
| 112 |
Tallon (2010), pp. 48–49.
| 113 |
François de Guise refuse le renvoi d’un esclave au siege de Metz in Boulle and Peabody (2014), p. 25.
| 114 |
Henri III libère des forçats “Turcs, Maures et Barbares” sortis d’une galère espagnole échouée à Calais, env. 1580 in Boulle and Peabody (2014), pp. 26–27.
| 115 |
Arabeyre (2007), pp. 92–94. As we noted before, Bodin’s antislavery attitude was heavily criticised by Alberico Gentili.
| 116 |
Bodin (1606), pp. 32–36.
| 117 |
Ibid., 40. Bodin also wrote that the Christian world had been cleared of slaves since the year 1250, which can easily be discarded as a gross mistake.
| 118 |
Ibid., 42. One qualification might be that, as regards the mysterious case of the ambassador in the Parlement of Paris, it only applied to “slaves of strangers” coming to France. It is unclear whether Bodin would believe that it was possible for Frenchmen to come with their slaves to France without the slaves being freed. Given that France was not yet involved in the Atlantic slave trade, it is little surprising that Bodin did not foresee this hypothesis. I would tend to believe that Bodin’s mind-set would also have foreseen that slaves coming with a French master to France would have been freed, as Brion Davis stated that Bodin’s concept of an organic state would not have permitted the dualism of slavery and freedom Brion Davis (1966), pp. 111–112.
| 119 |
Nys (1890), p. 69, Arabeyre (2007), pp. 383, 479. Nys also referred to the historiographer Jean du Bouchet (1599–1684).
| 120 |
François Ragueau affirme le principe du sol libre, 1600 in Boulle and Peabody (2014), p. 28. Cujas himself does not seem to have written anything on the French freedom principle, see Prevost (2015).
| 121 |
Grotius (1925), Book III, Chaps. VII and VIII. Grotius cites Jean Bodin as an authority to validate his point.
| 122 |
Boulle and Peabody (2014), p. 18, Arabeyre (2007), pp. 514–516.
| 123 |
Peabody discusses the great variety in explanation (references to Thomas Aquinas, Jean Bodin, Church sources, …) that Loisel’s successive editors tried to give to the principle in Peabody (1996), p. 31.
| 124 |
Nys (1890), p. 62.
| 125 |
Ibid.
| 126 |
Peabody (2011), pp. 355–356.
| 127 |
Brion Davis (1966), p. 112.
| 128 |
Weiss (2011), pp. 7–19.
| 129 |
Rushforth (2012), pp. 83–84.
| 130 |
Nys (1890), p. 63. At most, one could refer to the 1580 case in which Henry III freed the slaves of the grounded Spanish ship in Calais, but this is a dangerous conclusion given its tendentious credibility.
| 131 |
Peabody (1996), p. 32. More poetically, Peabody said that “Like a seashell tossed by the tides, the maxim’s barnacle like accretions and collisions with opposing forces eventually distorted its original form”.
| 132 |
See, i.a. Godding (1991), p. 49, Van Bavel (2010), pp. 83–93, Nicholas (1992), pp. 124–129, Verriest (1946), p. 163.
| 133 |
The right of meilleur catel was comparable to the heriot in the English law of villeinage. It allowed the lord to take the serf’s “best” moveable good or most valuable chattel after his death.
| 134 |
Van Bavel (2010), p. 86.
| 135 |
Godding (1991), p. 49.
| 136 |
Andreae (1906), p. 20.
| 137 |
De Ghewiet actually mentioned 1132, but given that Countess Marguerite lived between 1202 and 1280, we can safely assume this must have reflected a small typographical error from De Ghewiet’s part.
| 138 |
See de Ghewiet (1736), Partie prémiére, Tit. II, XXXV, Godding (1991), p. 48.
| 139 |
Nicholas (1997), Israel (1995), pp. 9–20.
| 140 |
Heirbaut (2013), p. 283.
| 141 |
Van Caenegem (1995), p. 152.
| 142 |
Ibid., p. 153.
| 143 |
Verriest (1910), pp. 90–100.
| 144 |
On Galbert of Bruges, see i.a. Van Caenegem (1990).
| 145 |
Van Caenegem (1995), p. 153.
| 146 |
Van Caenegem (1990), pp. 96–99.
| 147 |
Nicholas (1992), p. 105, Van Caenegem (1990), pp. 96–99, van Schevichaven (1924), pp. 51–54. For an example of how the principle exactly applied in concrete cases (Mons and Valenciennes), see Verriest (1910), pp. 94–100.
| 148 |
Denucé et al. (1937), pp. 77–84, Israel (1995), p. 219.
| 149 |
In 1531, Emperor Charles V ordered that all customs had to be written down. There was much opposition in the Low Countries to do this, and the order had to be repeated several times in the ensuing decades. Antwerp’s customs were written down in 1547–1548, 1570, 1582 and 1608. I have made use of the 1582 version, which was printed. In the future United Provinces, Charles V’s order was less adhered to in general. This also explains why Roman law could penetrate so easily in the legal system of the Dutch Republic in the seventeenth century. Rooseboom, the stadssecretaris of Amsterdam, made a compilation of the municipal laws of Amsterdam in 1644 (I have used the second edition of 1656).
| 150 |
Jacobs (2000), pp. 61–62.
| 151 |
The translation is my own. The Dutch version reads that “Binnen den stadt ende vryheyt van Antwerpen syn alle menschen vry ende gheen slaven. Item alle slaven binnen de stadt oft vryheyt ghecomen wesende, syn vry ende buyten de macht van heurlieder Meesters oft Vrouwen: ende soo verre men die wilde als slaven houden en de teghens heuren danck doen dienen moghen proclamaeren ad libertatem patriae, ende heurlieder Meesters oft Vrouwen voor de Weth doen daghen ende hen aldaar rechtelyk vry doen verclaeren”. Rechten, ende costumen van Antwerpen (I have used the 1582 edition), Art. XXXVI.
| 152 |
Rooseboom (1656), Caput XXXIX.
| 153 |
Bosch (1951), pp. 143–146.
| 154 |
Its authority as supreme court, with the possibility to receive appeals from the highest court of the particular counties and duchies of the XVII Provinces was partially eroded, as the Northern provinces (except Holland and Zeeland) largely ignored it and the Councils of Brabant (which included Antwerp) and Hainaut remained sovereign Coppens et al. (1994), pp. 448–461, Fruin and Colenbrander (1922), pp. 140–143. When all provinces of the Low Countries had come into the hands of Charles V, this region was often referred to as the XVII Provinces.
| 155 |
The case was first brought to my attention by Ernest Nys’ work, although he does make a small mistake by asserting that the case took place in 1531, Nys (1890), pp. 65–66.There are three relevant “parts” in this case. First, there is the request of the Portuguese representative. Second, there is Mary of Austria’s letter of 6 March 1532 to the Great Council of Malines, asking for their advice. Finally, there is the answer of the Great Council of Malines, dated 7 March 1532. The Recueil des ordonnances des Pays-Bas autrichiens contains a reprint of the first part of the case (see Gachard and Verhaegen (1877), pp. 504–506). All the materials related to the case can be found in the State Archives of Belgium. Grand Conseil de Justice des Pays-Bas à Malines, T. III, 376–379. Many thanks to the staff of the State Archives of Belgium for helping me with transcribing the relevant parts of this case. An abbreviated report can be found in Gaillard (1900), p. 41.
| 156 |
I have not found any indication of tensions between the Portuguese and the Habsburg authorities in 1532 in the following works: Pirenne (1908), Disney (2009).
| 157 |
The relevant part reads that “Et pour ce que la matière semble être de poids et de consequence pour la liberté qui les toujours entretenu des pays de par deça”. Grand Conseil de Justice des Pays-Bas à Malines, T. III, 376–379.
| 158 |
The relevant part reads that “Eu regard à la nature et liberté des pays de par-deça, ou l’on ne use de servile condition, quant à la personne”. Ibid.
| 159 |
Seymour Drescher asserts that the Southern Netherlands only aligned themselves with the freedom principle of their neighbours in the early eighteenth century. Drescher quoted an eighteenth century source which mentioned this advice of the Great Council of Malines, but apparently did not say that it had already occurred in 1532. Quite to the opposite of Drescher’s assertion, the Southern Netherlands seem to be the first area in which a sovereign court decided that slavery was not recognized by the domestic laws of its territory, even sooner than in England or in France Drescher (2009), p. 23.
| 160 |
Gilissen (1981), p. 389.
| 161 |
Clenardus (1566), p. 81–90. I wish to thank Prof. Dr. Dirk Heirbaut for his help in translating some parts of the Latin texts made reference to in this chapter.
| 162 |
Molanus (1587), Liber III, Cap. XXXIV. I have not been able to consult the 1572 edition which was printed in Leuven. Molanus referred to Clenardus, so he might have picked up the idea from him.
| 163 |
Gilissen (1981), p. 359.
| 164 |
Gudelinus (1620), Liber I, Cap. IV. Although Clenardus and Molanus did not refer to French precedents, Gudelinus and many others did. The references to such writers as Bodin and Charondas might also have inspired enunciations in favour of immediate freedom for slaves coming to this region, as opposed to the requirement of having to petition the authorities.
| 165 |
During the Eighty Years War, the XVII Provinces were torn apart, giving rise to the United Provinces in the North and the Spanish Netherlands in the South.
| 166 |
Zypaeus (1635), Liber VI, De Servis, Christinaeus (1626), Vol. 4, Decis LXXX.
| 167 |
Knobbaert (1677), Art. X, Observatio Quinta. Knobbaert referred to Gudelinus, Christinaeus, Hugo Grotius, Bodin and the customs of Antwerp.
| 168 |
Nys (1890), p. 69.
| 169 |
Groenewegen van der Made (1649), Liber I, Tit. VIII, Vinnius (1659), Liber I, Tit. III. On the life of Groenewegen van der Made and Vinnius, see Gerbenzon and Algra (1972), pp. 134–142. To prove how widespread the idea of the freedom principle had become in the Low Countries at this point, one can simply point at the references that are used by Groenewegen van der Made. He mentioned the Customs of Antwerp and the works of Grotius, Gudelinus, Perez, Zypaeus, Christinaeus, Jean Papon, Charondas, Bernard Automne, Denique, and Boer.
| 170 |
This English translation can be found in Cobb (1858), pp. 371–372.
| 171 |
van Leeuwen (1664), Boek I, Deel V.
| 172 |
The reader might ask himself why I am not mentioning the greatest Dutch lawyer of the seventeenth century, Hugo Grotius. The reason is that I believe that he did not really pronounce himself on this issue in the Inleidinge tot de Hollandsche rechts-geleerdheid. What Grotius did mention was that he believed that, although some marks of unfreedom were left in Holland (referring to servile dues), all people in Holland were free. Likewise, he mentioned how it was impossible for someone to completely relinquish his own liberty (“maer niemandt en ma by ons door handeling hem zelve sijns vrijheids in ?t gheheel weerloos maecken”). To me, this sounds as an acknowledgement that the people of Holland could no longer become slaves. However, that is not the same as claiming that other people arriving in Holland (which is a conflicts of law issue, not an issue of domestic law) could not remain slaves Grotius (1952), I. 4 (2), II. 1 (47). I have made use of the 1952 translation of Inleidinge tot de Hollandsche rechts-geleerdheid by Folke Dovring (the work was originally published in 1631).
| 173 |
Schorsch (2004), pp. 50–53.
| 174 |
The few articles on this issue in Belgian historiography are all nearly a century old. For the discussion concerning the amount of slaves, compare Denucé and Goemaere (who claim there were many slaves) with Saunders (who claims their presence was negligible) Denucé et al. (1937), pp. 27–36, de Saunders (1982), p. 188.
| 175 |
Anyhow, such a case would have never made it to the Great Council of Malines, given that the Council of Brabant (Raad van Brabant) remained sovereign in the Duchy of Brabant. The first collections of decisions of the Council of Brabant were only made in the seventeenth century, so we will probably not find proof of any cases there either, as the black presence in Antwerp faded away after the Spanish siege of 1584–1585. Municipal court records and Requestboeken might hopefully shed some light on this issue in the future.
| 176 |
Goris (1923), pp. 541–544.
| 177 |
Ibid.
| 178 |
Goemaere (1963), p. 30, Goris (1923), p. 544.
| 179 |
Goris (1923), p. 544.
| 180 |
The case has been retold almost endlessly in historiography. I have taken most of the facts and the interpretation of the case from Dienke Hondius’ recent assessment of it Hondius (2009).
| 181 |
Ibid., pp. 33–34. The decisions of the States of Zeeland of 15 November 1596 are quoted verbatim by Hondius.
| 182 |
Blakely (1993), p. 4, Drescher (2009), p. 23. Drescher notes how Pieter Emmer believed that the slaves were probably taken to a slave market in Antwerp. I have found no proof of the existence of such a market.
| 183 |
Resolutiën der Staten Generaal, deel 9, 1596/1597, 333–334.
| 184 |
Hondius (2009), p. 39.
| 185 |
For the sake of completeness, I might add that Grotius also talked about galley service (without using the term slavery). He noted that whereas no-one in the Dutch Republic could abrogate his freedom, one could lose his liberty because of a crime, if he was sentenced to the galleys or a house of correction (“Iemand kan oock de selve [de vrijheid] door misdaed verbeuren, als die tot de roei-schepen ofte in tucht-huizen warden verbannen”). I have not found secondary literature on the use of galley convicts by the Dutch (which is also explained by the fact that they only had one galley around 1600). Even if convicts were used in the galleys, it does not seem likely that the Dutch considered this to be an exception to their freedom principle or that it ever caused them to write much about it Grotius (1952), II. 1 (47).