The Negro Plot in New York

The witchcraft delusion of Salem had its counterpart in an equally baseless epidemic of suspicion and cruelty in New York, of sufficient importance to call for special consideration. The only other event of marked importance in that city, between the Leisler rebellion and the French and Indian War, was a conflict between the democratic and aristocratic parties in 1732. These parties divided the province, and were in violent opposition. The editor of a popular journal was imprisoned and sued for libel for an attack upon the measures of the governor and council. He was acquitted upon trial, and Andrew Hamilton, one of his defenders, was presented with an elegant gold box by the magistrates, for his defence of popular rights and the liberty of the press. The other occurrence referred to the negro plot of 1741, which for a while threw the city into an unreasoning panic, is fully described in Mary L. Booth's "History of the City of New York," from which we extract its leading particulars.

THE negro plot of the city of New York will long continue to be classed in the foremost rank of popular delusions, even exceeding in its progress and its fearful denouement the celebrated Popish Plot concocted by Titus Oates. At this distance, it is difficult to ascertain how many grains of truth were mingled in the mass of prejudice, or to discover the wild schemes which may have sprung up in the brains of the oppressed and excitable negroes, but certain it is that nothing can justify the wholesale panic of a civilized community, or the indiscriminate imprisonment and execution of scores of ignorant beings without friends or counsel, on no other evidence than the incoherencies of a few wretches more degraded than they, supported by the horror of a terror-struck imagination. We shall endeavor to follow the development of this singular plot clearly and simply, leaving the reader to draw his own inference from the facts and to determine how much credence should be given the testimony.

At this time New York contained about ten thousand inhabitants, nearly one-fifth of whom were negro slaves. Since the first introduction of slavery into the province in the days of Wilhelm Kieft, it had increased and flourished to an alarming extent. Every householder who could afford it was surrounded by negroes, who were contemptuously designated as "the black seed of Cain," and deprived not only of their liberty, but also of the commonest rights of humanity.. The ordinances [against them] were of the most stringent character. "All blacks were slaves," says a late historian, "and slaves could not be witnesses against a freeman. They were incapable of buying anything, even the minutest necessary of life; they were punishable by master or mistress to any extent short of life or limb; as often as three of them were found together, they were punished with forty lashes on the bare back; and the same legal liability attended the walking with a club outside the master's grounds without a permit. Two justices might inflict any punishment short of death or amputation for a blow or the smallest assault upon a Christian or a Jew." Such was the spirit of the laws of the times.

It had been the constant policy, both of the Dutch and English governments, to encourage the importation of slaves as much as possible; the leading merchants of the city were engaged in the traffic, which was regarded by the public as strictly honorable, and at the time of which we speak New York was literally swarming with negroes, and presented all the features of a present (1859.) Southern city, with its calaboose on the Commons and its market-place at the foot of Wall Street. The people were not blind to the possible danger from this oppressed yet powerful host that was silently gathering in their midst, and the slightest suspicious movement on the part of the negroes was sufficient to excite their distrust and alarm. Since the supposed plot of 1712, of which we have already spoken, a growing fear of the slaves had pervaded the city, and the most stringent measures had been adopted to prevent their assemblages and to keep them under strict surveillance. But it was difficult to restrain the thieving propensities of the negroes; petty thefts were constantly committed, and it was one of these that first paved the way to the real or supposed discovery of a plot to murder the inhabitants and take possession of the city.

On the 14th of March, 1741, some goods and silver were stolen from the house of a merchant named Robert Hogg, on the corner of Broad and Mill or South William Streets. The police immediately set to work to discover the thieves, and, suspicion having fallen upon John Hughson, the keeper of a low negro tavern on the shores of the North River, his house was searched, but to no effect. Soon after, an indentured servant-girl of Hughson's, by the name of Mary Burton, told a neighbor that the goods were really hidden in the house, but that Hughson would kill her if he knew she had said so. This rumor soon came to the ears of the authorities, who at once arrested Mary Burton and lodged her in the city jail, promising Mary Burton and lodged her in the city jail, promising her her freedom if she would confess all that she knew about the matter.