Rapparee, Ilfracombe

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Coordinates: 51°12′47″N 4°06′04″W / 51.213°N 4.101°W / 51.213; -4.101

Rapparee is a cove in the North Devon town of Ilfracombe. The cove is the site of the shipwreak of the London which sank in 1796 in stormy weather. The ship's cargo reportedly contained gold and several African slaves who perished.

There is debate over whether the remains are those of French soldiers or slaves from St Lucia.^[1][2][3]

In February 1997 the national media became alerted when human bones were discovered at Rapparee Cove, near Ilfracombe in Devon, in the south west of England. An archaeological dig quickly discovered the remains of a mass grave at the foot of the steep cliffs which had been rapidly eroding after a sea wall had collapsed a few years earlier. Local historians, who had been monitoring the area for some time, had already compiled an inventory of 18th century coins found on the beach. They had traced these findings to a British transport ship called The London, believed to have been wrecked in the cove in October 1796. Opinions were divided over the cargo of the unlucky ship and the origins and status of the victims.^[4]

Pat Barrow, who had been carrying out research on this particular route since 1970 and who organized the first excavation, was certain that the bodies buried in the walls of the cove were those of black prisoners taken from the Caribbean island of St Lucia as a result of the war between France and Britain which began in 1793. Having been freed from slavery by the French in 1783, the inhabitants of St Lucia found themselves under attack from the British since the island represented a strategic point in the Caribbean. They were well aware that if the British over-ran the island they would enslave them again, and they managed to repel them for three years before being defeated. Known as “Brigands”, the prisoners were brought back to Britain in large numbers to an uncertain fate, along with a large quantity of coins and jewels. Despite Lord Mansfield’s historic pronouncement in 1772 that slaves were free once they reached English soil, and that no former slave could be compelled to return to the West Indies, there was still a great deal of money to be made by flouting the law. Barrow’s book Slaves of Rapparee published in 1998, provides an extraordinarily detailed account of all the available evidence relating to The London interwoven with a description of local, national and international interest in the site^[5].

One of the many mysteries surrounding the wreck of The London that night of October 9 1796 is why the bodies were buried on the beach and not in a marked graveyard. Barrow cites a local source, Old Times in the West Country: Stories, Legends, and Highwaymen; Traditions, and Rhymes of Old North Devon, published almost a century later, which gives an eyewitness account of the wreck and of the behavior of the local residents who witnessed it. It is worth quoting at length not just for the vivid picture it evokes, but also because it confirms the status of local legend the incident had undoubtedly acquired by the late 19th century. It was late in the evening when a gun was heard faintly booming in the distance. A fine vessel was seen in distress...An Ilfracombe pilot bravely ventured out in response to the signal, but was not allowed to board her. “Where are you from?” demanded the pilot. “From hell bound for damnation,” was the awful answer given by the ruffian captain, who had on board such invaluable treasure - a cargo of human life with gold and specie, the worth of which none shall ever answer. “Pilot away,” exclaimed the captain. “We want no assistance, we’re bound to perish,” and soon the assertion was realised, and the noble vessel sank beneath the gurgling waters amidst the agonising cries and shrieks of those on board, thus ruthlessly and desperately deprived of precious life. In the morning the beach was covered with the bodies of the unfortunate Negroes, washed up by the tide: and amongst them, a strange and pitiful exception, like a pearl among rubies, was a lovely creature, a youthful lady. A naked lily fair, lying dead and cold. Whether it was the body of a captive, or the captain’s wife, none could ever tell, but the sea had made no distinction between black and white victims.

As the waves moved the sand on the beach, heaps of shining coins in gold met the sight of the astonished inhabitants, who were busily removing the dead bodies to the outhouses of the Britannia Hotel. The sight was a wondrous and not unwelcome one. Eagerly they rushed to the treasure. The cry was raised by someone, “Stop, first bury the dead.” They hesitated, but the inward voice of conscience re-echoed the mandate, and they returned to their work, and the bodies were hastily buried in the hillside, this being the most convenient spot near at hand, there to rest until the resurrection morn. Other descriptions cited by Barrow recall the efforts of locals to rescue the drowning crew and captives, but there are no other accounts of the portentous body of the lily-white woman. This image, once encountered, is difficult to efface: it conveys a sorrowful awareness that the distinction that people made between human beings on the basis of skin color, and for the purpose of profit, had no currency in nature. It helps to add an almost mystical element to this disastrous and shameful tragedy, compounded by the eagerness of the locals to put their own interests before Christian duty. There is no mention of proper or different funeral rites being accorded to this woman, who might herself have been a captive, since in the rush to collect the gold coins any respect for humanity was all but abandoned anyway. Whatever the origins of this account, and its dubious authenticity, it is significant that in 1873 it was this powerful imagery that was chosen to convey the story of that particular shipwreck, and thus to keep its memory alive in another historical period.

In his introduction Barrow prepares the reader for the controversy that began with the suggestion that those who died in the wreck had been slaves, destined for sale in Bristol, further up the English coast: I became aware of an increasing hostility as my research began to uncover details which it was obvious some people would rather I had left alone. While the motive for transporting black prisoners from the Caribbean islands to a Bristol prison intrigued me, it appeared to infuriate the powers-that-be. The media seized upon the idea that this was a slave ship, yet it was never that simple. I was encouraged to describe the victims as prisoners-of-war as they were clearly freedom fighters embroiled in the Napoleonic revolutionary wars which at the time were raging in the West Indies.

Barrow states his own careful position here, scrupulously avoiding jumping to his own conclusions and anxious to give the dead bodies the commemoration that they deserved. From his research he was convinced that the prisoners on board the ship were black captives of one kind or another, but he was also critical of the media’s desire for a simplistic, sensationalist approach on the one hand, and of skeptics on the other who cast doubt on the evidence that he had assembled with the help of historians from Britain and the Caribbean. More to the point, in some ways, was the fate of those who escaped drowning on that fateful night. Whether they were captured as slaves or defeated as freedom fighters the prisoners were inevitably destined for captivity of one form or another when they arrived in Bristol: “Yet these people had fought heroically to avoid slavery, and had been captured by the British. So what of the survivors, what became of the people who did not perish in the wreck of the London? Were they ultimately treated honorably, as prisoners of war - or as slaves?”

The discovery of the grave received national attention, not so much when it was first uncovered, but when Labour Member of Parliament Bernie Grant, who was of Caribbean descent, traveled to the site to demand a memorial to the captives. As he examined the fragments of bone, some of them thought to have belonged to children, he was reported as saying: “I feel very emotional about it. I feel that there is a need for there to be some reburial together with some sort of a monument which would let everyone know what has transpired. What we want is for the truth to be told, warts and all”.^[6] Grant had paid a visit to Ilfracombe on behalf of the African Reparation Movement (ARM) which campaigns for compensation for slavery and in particular for the return of artifacts plundered and stolen from African people. In this case, he explained, compensation was a secondary issue compared to an apology; what was needed was a gesture of public recognition that something terrible had happened there. Grant told reporters that before visiting the area he had felt that the remains at Rapparee Cove should be returned to their home country, but he now supported the local view that there should be a memorial and an historic grave.

Grant’s arrival on the scene precipitated a number of controversial reports in the media since the MP personified the politics of race. His national reputation as an outspoken and combative figure had been secured over a decade earlier when he was the leader of the local authority in the same area of north London, earning the nickname of “Barmie Bernie” in the pages of the tabloid newspapers. Shortly before he visited Ilfracombe he had been involved in an exchange with a museum in the nearby city of Exeter to discuss the return of some African artifacts dating from the colonial era. As news of Grant’s interest in Rapparee spread, Barrow began to find himself pressed to supply evidence for his views on the origins of the bones. He was astonished to read categorical statements establishing the “racial” origin of the captives in some papers, and dismayed by the hostility he encountered when he maintained his position that the bones belonged in Rapparee until further evidence could be obtained on their source. The fact that so many journalists were interested in proving that the captives were slaves rather than prisoners of war indicates that this was the more immediately sensational account which corresponded neatly with the newsworthy and highly symbolic entrance of Bernie Grant on to this unlikely stage set.

The intense media attention received by this extraordinary excavation was short lived, however, and the local authority insisted on waiting for more evidence of authenticity before it made the arrangements necessary for a public memorial. Grant was entirely justified in demanding that the remains of The London’s captives should rest in Devon since they were already so far from anywhere that could be called home. Rapparee Cove can be seen as a point on a circuit that linked the three continents of Africa, America and Europe. A distinctive yellow gravel embedded in the sand of the Devonshire bay is thought to have originated in St Lucia before being loaded into the hold of The London to act as ballast.^[7]

References

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