In 1831, a couple of years before the British Empire abolished slavery, a former slave named Mary Prince published The History of Mary Prince, A West Indian Slave. It’s credited with giving a good strong push to the abolitionist chariot and it’s one of Britain’s pivotal slave narratives, the first written by a woman, remembered with Ottobah Cugoano’s from 1787 and Olaudah Equiano’s from 1789, although Cugoano and Olaudah are, I think, better known.
Why am I weaseling around saying “I think” there? Because I’m not originally British. I’ve lived here for–hang on, I’ll need access to my toes to count this high–18 years, give or take a toe, but when you come to a country as an adult there’s some ground you just don’t make up. You bring other gifts. Immigrants are handy to have around, although you wouldn’t know that if your only contact with us comes from following the news. But some of the stuff that happens in your brain when you’re young doesn’t happen when you’re not. And I’m very much not. So I have the impression that Prince is less well known, but y’know, most of British history is new to me, so I’m not the best judge.
To be fair, a lot of British history would be new to most of the British if they were to stumble over it, just as most of American history would be new to most Americans, and a lot of people are working overtime to make sure it stays that way.

Irrelevant photo: daffodils growing in a hedge. I’d love to run a picture of Mary Prince but there are none.
But back to Mary Prince
Prince was born into slavery in the Caribbean, sold away from her family when she was twelve, and shuffled between islands and slaveholders until well into her adulthood. She escaped once briefly, as a child, and as an adult married a free Black man Daniel James, who offered to buy her freedom but was refused.
In 1828, about a year and a half after her marriage, the last in that collection of slaveholders, John Adams Wood, took Prince to England as a servant, and–
You remember that first paragraph where I said she was a former slave? That’s both true and not true. Her status in England was ambiguous.
The bit about whether slavery was legal
To make sense of this, we have to go back to a 1772 court ruling involving James Somerset, a slave who escaped in England just as he was about to be shipped overseas and sold. The court freed him and that ruling was generally taken as putting an end to slavery within England’s borders, although not in its empire.
In fact, it didn’t end slavery. A year after the Somerset ruling, a newspaper reported that an escaped slave had been recaptured and committed suicide. Other newspapers ran ads for the sale of slaves. In 1788, two anti-slavery campaigners bought a slave in England to prove that slavery continued within the country’s borders.
In fact, the judge in the Somerset case, was aware enough of slavery’s ambiguous status that his 1782 will freed his grand-niece, Dido Elizabeth Belle, who’d been born into slavery but who he’d raised and educated and who lived in England with his family. What he had in fact ruled illegal in the Somerset case was taking a slave out of the country without his or her consent. That left England in a thoroughly weird position: none of its laws gave slavery any standing, but none of them made it illegal either.
And back to Mary Prince again
Not long after Prince arrived in London, she walked out on the slaveholders who’d brought her, and I’d love to tell you how long “not long” was but nothing I’ve found makes it clear. The sources I’ve found do say her health was getting worse–she had arthritis–and a couple of the sources make it sound like she struggled to do the work that the Wood family demanded. One source says they threatened to throw her out on the street.
Whatever happened, she walked out and turned to the Moravian Mission, a Protestant church that she’d joined in Antigua, and at some point she found her way to the Anti-Slavery Society and met Thomas Pringle, the secretary of the London branch. She also found work and, the ambiguities of the law be damned, lived as a free woman.
What Prince wanted was to return to Antigua as a free woman, though, and she and Pringle tried, first through a lawyer and later through a minister, to negotiate with Wood for her freedom. Wood refused to free her on any terms.
In 1829 she petitioned Parliament, asking them to free the enslaved people of the Caribbean, making her the first woman to petition Britain’s Parliament. And in what seems to be a separate petition, the Anti-Slavery Society petitioned for her manumission.
Sorry for the murkiness. I’m working from multiple articles here and frankly some of them are better on rhetoric than on detail. Anyway, if there were two petitions, both failed. If there was one–
Yeah. You get it.
At some point she became unemployed and the Pringles hired her as a domestic servant, and it was while she lived with them that she suggested testifying, in book form, to the brutality and violence of slavery.
“I have felt what a slave feels,” she wrote, “and I know what a slave knows; and I would have all the good people in England to know it too, that they may break our chains, and set us free.”
Prince could read and write, but she dictated the book to an English abolitionist, Susanna Strickland, who compiled it, and an abolitionist who’d lived in Antigua “helped on the Antigua section,” whatever that means. An additional slave narrative, by Louis Asa-Asa, was added to the book. He testified to his experience of being captured in Africa and brought ashore in St. Ives, Cornwall, when storms took the ship off course.
Scholars argue about the extent to which Strickland and Pringle shaped the manuscript. By extension, I’d guess they’re arguing about how much the voice is Prince’s. No one these days seems to question the reality of her evidence, which is graphic and raw.
The book and the lawsuits
At the time, though, the book was questioned, and it wasn’t long after the book was published that the lawsuits started. First Pringle, as the publisher, sued someone who claimed in print that the story was a fraud. Pringle won and was awarded £5 (more or less £485 in 2025 money, and from here on I’ll leave you to do the calculations) plus costs–a total of £160.
Then Wood–the last in that line of slaveholders, remember–sued Pringle for defamation and Pringle countersued. The court decided that story was exaggerated and Wood was awarded £25 but not costs. All of which added to the book’s popularity. It went through three editions in its first year.
And after that . . .
. . . Prince drops out of the public record and we don’t get the end of the story. In 1833, slavery was abolished in the British empire, except for, ahem, the parts controlled by the British East India Company, and that first ahem is followed by a second ahem, because for a period of years slavery was replaced with an apprenticeship system that was slavery under a different name.
Still, it’s possible that Prince returned to Antigua and her husband. It’s also possible that she didn’t.
Bermuda counts her as a national hero and observes a holiday in her honor.
I hope she had a happy ending.
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So do I, but this is the problem with actual history as opposed to fiction: we just drop the story when we run out of documentation. I kind of hate that.
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So sad that this kind of thing was (and still is) allowed to go on. We can only hope that Mrs. Prince found peace eventually. God rest her soul!
And bless you for bringing her story to your readers. One must understand the past to improve the future. I hope you have a wonderful week! 😊
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In addition to this blog, I write fiction and I’m a fiction writer at heart, so I can’t help wanting to write her a happy ending, but history’s unforgiving: we can only know what we know. But I’d like to think she was reunited with her husband and found some happiness after a life with precious little of that.
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It appears that Britain just wanted slavery to quietly go away. Unlike the rest of the empire where it needed to be forcibly removed.
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I wouldn’t say. Huge fortunes were made from both the slave trade and plantations that used slave labor, and I’ve seen a convincing argument that those fortunes made the industrial revolution possible. So no, I wouldn’t say the country wanted it to go away, and at the time I’m sure you could’ve found lots of support for allowing it within the country’s borders as well. But the opposition was also large, and escaped slaves were able to find refuge and support not only from the Black community but among whites. It’s not a simple picture.
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Your comment that “It’s not a simple picture,” reminds me of something I read a while ago. As I can’t give you a reference and can’t vouch for its accuracy, treat this as “maybe”, rather than evidence. The writer claimed that banning slavery and policing the ban cost the country considerably more than was gained by the trade. It seems possible, (I’m no historian to research the evidence) although I would guess that those who got rich through slavery weren’t necessarily among the losers after the ban. Even if true, it can’t in any way excuse the past but it does suggest that, as usual, things are much more complicated than popular belief would like them to be.
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It’s possible–I have no idea–but it’s also possible that the answer depends on how you calculate the costs. Statistics are funny like that. I do know that when Britain finally banned slavery both at home and in its colonies (with the exception of India), it compensated–fasten your seat belt–the former slaveholders. Not (may all the gods forbid) the former slaves. Anyone want to calculate that and balance it out against some other statistic?
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I imagine that the thinking behind the compensation would have been something like: “The slaves are now free, so they can earn their living but the poor old slaveholders are going to have to pay for what was formerly free labour.” Either that, or it was a bribe to get them to comply with the new system. Never underestimate the ability of governments to turn truth to falsehood or the other way round!
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I think of it as a tribute to the political power of money. Which the slaveholders had in large amounts. Whatever rationale was used came long after the power calculations.
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Unfortunately it always comes back to the money
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Ain’t that the truth?
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Thank you, Ellen, for sharing this fascinating story! ❤️
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And thanks for reading.
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Pingback: Dido Elizabeth Belle: more on the ambiguities of slavery in England | Notes from the U.K.
You’re right. Although I grew up in Britain, I don’t know much British history, and certainly not the unpleasant bits that they don’t want you to learn.
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That’s probably typical of what most countries teach: we’re the heroic [fill in the blank], about which you should be proud. Please stand, children, and we’ll all sing the national anthem. Badly. I was lucky when I was a kid that my parents had a bookshelf full of popularly written history–on a narrow range of subjects, in hindsight, but who cares? It meant I got a glimpse of how fascinating history is once you’re out of history class.
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Irrelevant comment,
And then my heart with pleasure fills
and dances with the daffodils
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That got my morning started with a smile. Thank you. The daffodils are a little windblown right now and the earliest ones are past it, but then I’m kind of past it myself, so I’ll go dance with them anyway.
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Dancing along…
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:)
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