“Dreams
of Liberation” from Chapter One of American Slavery, American
Freedom (1975) by Edmund S. Morgan
Virginia gained its name in 1585 when Sir
Walter Raleigh sponsored an attempt by Englishmen to settle in America.
Raleigh's colony, the famous lost colony of Roanoke,
was the starting point of Virginia's history. It was a false start, and the
next attempt, at Jamestown in 1607, was made under different auspices, by men
who had learned something from Raleigh's
failure. But Raleigh's
venture was an end as well as a beginning, and its failure was a greater
failure than can be found in the romantic story of the band of colonists who
disappeared. [Raleigh's
Dream] Roanoke was the failure of a dream; a dream on the
verge of becoming reality, a dream in which slavery and freedom were not yet
married, a dream in which Protestant Britons liberated the oppressed people
of the New World from the slavery that the
papist Spaniard had imposed on them.
Perhaps it
was no more than a dream. Perhaps it could never have come to pass, and
perhaps no one really intended that it should. No one spelled it out, and
only the outlines can be recovered today. But we may understand a little
better what Virginians did after 1607 if we know what their predecessors
thought of doing in the New World but
failed to accomplish.What they thought of doing was
to save themselves and the rest of mankind from the
tyrannous Spaniard. And no people were more in need of saving than
those in the New World. For by the time
Englishmen began to think about their own role in America,
half a century after Columbus, Spain
had overrun the Caribbean, Central America, Mexico,
and much of South America. The story of the
Spanish conquest had been widely told, and even in the Spaniards' own
accounts it was a horror story. (7) They had found in the New
World, they said, the most loving and lovable human beings ever
seen. They had also, to be sure, found some cannibals, who met them with
showers of poisoned arrows. But it was not the cannibals whom the Spaniards
first enslaved and destroyed; it was the kindly Arawaks
whom Columbus found on Hispaniola.
There were great numbers of them (the most recent modern estimate places the
population of the island at about eight million at the time of discovery);
and the Spanish, while admiring their simplicity and generosity, put them to
work with a ruthlessness that (along with European diseases) eventuated in
their virtual extermination. A half century after Columbus
there were no more than two hundred Arawaks left on
Hispaniola. (8)
In the rest of Spanish America the story
was much the same: the natives were reduced to a species of slavery or
serfdom and declined in numbers catastrophically. In their place the Spanish
brought in slaves of other regions, especially Africa.
As the story spread through Europe in
the wondering pages of the Spanish chronicler Peter Martyr and in the
withering pages of the Dominican friar Bartolome de
Las Casas, it added new dimensions to the traditional European image of
Spanish cruelty.
Mid-century Englishmen were already experiencing what they took to be a taste
of that cruelty at home. [Bloody Mary] In 1553 the Protestant boy king
Edward VI had died and was succeeded by his Catholic sister Mary, who
promptly married Philip, the future king of Spain.
There followed the series of martyrdoms and exiles that gave to English
Protestants their undying hatred of Mary and of everything Spanish. From
exile on the Continent Protestant spokesmen called for the queen's head and
expounded radical theories of the right of a people to judge their rulers.
One of the most forceful expositories made the
connection between what was happening to Englishmen at home and what was
happening to the Indians in the New World.
John Ponet, who had once been bishop of Winchester,
offered his countrymen a multitude of examples from the Bible and from
ancient history of people who had rightly resisted wicked rulers. But he also
interspersed a few pointed modern references, as of the wicked, idolatrous
Prince Eglon, who brought in as his advisers many
Ammonites and Amalekites, two kinds of people in beggerly
pride and filthiness of life much like to the common nature of Italians and Spaniardes. And when Ponet
needed an example of the woeful consequences of monarchs who treated their
subjects as slaves, he found it in Spain's
New World empire. Borrowing from Peter
Martyr, he told how the natives of the West Indies,
when the Spaniards came, "were simple and plain men, and lived without
great labour." The Spaniards in their lust for gold
forced the people (that were
not used to labour) to stande all the daie in the hotte sunne gathering golde in the sande of the rivers. By this meanes
a great nombre of them (not used to such paines) died, and a great numbre
of them (seeing themselves brought from so quiet a life to such miserie and slaverie) of desperacion killed them selves.
And many wolde not mary,
bicause they wolde not
have their children slaves to the Spaniardes.
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Englishmen,
Ponet suggested, would not be so patient. Mary
Tudor should remember that she ruled over "a bodie
of free men and not of bondemen" and that
she could not "geve or sell them as slaves and
bondemen" (9) England
held no slaves.
After Elizabeth
succeeded Mary on the English throne in 1558, English Protestants no longer
felt it necessary or politic to direct such warnings to their monarch. But
they retained a sympathy for the American victims of
Spanish oppression. The riches that Spain
drew from slave labor in the New World had helped to make her the greatest
power in the Old World, strong enough perhaps to overrun Europe
and saddle people there with the same slavery that the Indians were
suffering. In addition, Spain's
aggressive Catholicism posed a challenge to all Protestants. Any blow
struck against her in the New World could
be viewed as a blow for truth as well as freedom.
The situation invited men to think of a strategy that might bring freedom
to the New World and at the same time relieve
the Old World of the Spanish threat. Such
a strategy did develop. And as has often been the case in the history of
freedom, it took its rise almost accidentally out of a shady enterprise for
private profit. It began with the activities of John Hawkins of Plymouth,
a man of doubtful righteousness but undoubted daring, who had learned of the
demand for African slaves in Spanish America.
Although the Portuguese forbade English trade in Africa and the Spanish
forbade it in the New World, Hawkins in three separate voyages bought, stole,
and captured slaves from the coast of Guinea
and carried them to the Spanish Main, where
he was able to frighten the authorities into letting him sell them. During
the last voyage, on which he was accompanied by Francis
Drake, the Spanish made a surprise attack on his fleet of six
ships, lying at anchor in the port of San Juan de Ulna in Mexico. After a
fiery battle in the harbor, he and Drake were able to make their escape in
separate ships, but with the loss of the other ships and of three hundred of
the four hundred men. Hawkins regarded the attack as treachery, coming as it
did after a solemn agreement, with hostages given on both sides. If English
seamen had needed an excuse for piracy against Spain,
they now had it. And foremost of those who seized the excuse was Francis
Drake. (10)
There is no denying that Francis Drake was a pirate and
that the enterprise he conducted four years later in Panama was highway
robbery, or at best, highjacking. But it was on the scale that transforms
crime into politics. Nearly half a century later, Drake's friend Walter
Raleigh, waiting trial in the Tower
of London, put the case
with his usual succinctness. Raleigh
had admitted to the Lord Chancellor of England that he would have taken the
whole Spanish treasure fleet on the high seas in a recent voyage, if he could
only have found it. "Why then," said the Chancellor, "you
would have ben a pyrate."
"Oh," replied Raleigh,
still regretting the lost opportunity, "did you ever knowe
of any that were pyratts for millions? They that
risk for small things are pyratts." (11) If
a man can steal an empire, he becomes, not a thief, but an emperor. If a
pirate captures a large enough prize, he may be transformed into a statesman.
Francis Drake was not above taking small prizes, but in 1572 he was after a
large one, the Spanish treasure from Peru
that was carried by mule train across the Isthmus of Panama to the town of Nombre de Dios on the Caribbean
side. The surprising thing is not that he got it, or as much of it as he
could carry away, but the method by which he succeeded, a method that made
him, perhaps not a statesman, but something close to a revolutionary. (12)
Drake had apparently been to the coast of Panama
before 1572 and knew his way around. He also knew that the Spanish fleet
loaded the treasure of Peru
for the last leg of the voyage to Spain
at Nombre de Dios. But he evidently did not know at
what time of year the shipments were made, for when he arrived the gold was
not there. After holding the town for a few hours, he was forced back to his
ships, leaving the governor with a message advising him
to hold open his eyes, for before hee departed, if God lent him life and leave, hee meant to reape some of
their Harvest, which they get out of the Earth, and send into Spaine to trouble all the Earth. (13)
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The
exaltation of large-scale theft is already evident in the message. And while
he waited for the treasure to arrive, engaging in petty piracy of coastal
vessels, Drake added a new, political dimension to his enterprise. Going ashore, he made contact with an extraordinary group
of men, the Cimarrons,
described as "certaine valiant Negros
fled from their cruel masters the Spaniards." (14)
Now, Drake had been a slaver. He and John Hawkins had had no scruples about
carrying on the trade and had even managed a certain amount of righteous
indignation at Portuguese and Spanish efforts to bar them from it. It seems
unlikely that an alliance with the Cimarrons had been a part of Drake's
original plan in going to Panama
or that it derived from any moral or philosophical objection to slavery. If
his first attack on Nombre de Dios had netted him
the treasure he was seeking, he would have had no occasion to linger in the
country. But Drake had time on his hands, and he and the Cimarron
evidently took to one another or recognized that they had common or
complementary interests.
The Cimarrons were no fearful little band of
fugitives. The officials at Nombre de Dios
estimated their numbers at more than 3,000. (15) From their principal
settlement at Vallano, thirty leagues below Nombre de Dios, they organized periodic raids on the
Spanish settlements, carrying off more of their people. They had already
threatened to burn both Nombre de Dios and Panama.
And when the Spanish prepared to send an expedition against them, they
constructed a gallows on the road to Vallano and
sent messages saying that "on that gallows they were going to hang the
captain and cut off the heads of all who accompanied him," (16) an
undertaking in which, however, they were unsuccessful. The Cimarrons evidently welcomed Drake as an ally and agreed
to assist him in waylaying the pack train that carried the treasure from the
Pacific to Nombre de Dios. Cimarrons
infiltrated the town of Panama
and learned the time of departure; then a picked force of Cimarrons
and English, along with some French Huguenot pirates, waited in ambush.
Though the first attempt failed, when the allies attacked the vanguard of the
train too soon (allowing the main body to retreat to Panama
City), on the second try they succeeded and came off
with a small fortune in gold and silver.
Just how far Drake intended to go with the alliance is impossible to say, for
he never said himself. The Spanish authorities in Panama,
however, had no doubt.
"We hold it certain," they reported, "that the principal
design of these English is to explore and study this land, and what
strength there is in it, in order to come from England with more people to
plunder and occupy it." (17)
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Drake
and his lieutenant, John Oxenham,
may not have been so ambitious, but they certainly did not mean to leave the
Spanish in unmolested possession. In the days while they waited for the
passage of the pack train, their Cimarron friends had taken them to a lookout
atop a tree on a high ridge that overlooked both the Atlantic
and the Pacific. It was Drake's first sight of the Pacific, and "hee besought Almightie God of
his goodnesse to give him life and leave to sayle once in an English Ship in that sea." Oxenham vowed that "he would follow him by Gods grace." (18)
The Spanish had already envisaged that the English with the help of the
Cimarron would reach the Pacific and prey on the unprotected ships that
carried the treasure from Peru
to Panama.
(19) But this, as the Spanish saw it, was only the beginning. Nombre de Dios, one official announced "is as good
as lost." (20) And a prisoner taken by the Spanish assured them that the
pirates had promised the Cimarrons to sack the city
"and deliver to them what Spanish inhabitants, men and women, it may
have, to be their slaves." (21)
The Spanish were more fearful than they need have been. When Drake departed,
loaded with gold and silver, he had made no further attack on Nombre de Dios.But
neither had he closed the books on his alliance with the Cimarrons. [John Oxenham's Dream] Three
years later John Oxenham was back on the isthmus
with fifty men. On the Atlantic side he unloaded a cargo of supplies for the Cimarrons, then stripped the rigging from his ship and
beached and burned her to extract the hardware. He and his men with the help
of the Cimarrons
carried everything to Vallano and there, close to
the Pacific, built and rigged a ship forty-five
feet long in the keel. By February, 1577, guided by the Cimarrons,
Oxenham was raiding Spanish shipping from Peru
and Spanish settlements on the Pearl
Islands. The raiders
collected all the gold, silver, and jewels they could lay their hands on,
liberated seventy slaves, who were turned over to the Cimarrons,
and took pains to desecrate the papist churches, smashing images, altars, and
crucifixes. (22)
The English, it seems, had now begun to indoctrinate the Cimarrons
with a hatred of Catholicism that added yet another dimension to the
alliance. The Spanish reported that the Cimarrons
had become as ardent "Lutherans" (the Spanish word for all
Protestants) as the English. (23) They joined with delight in the
destruction of Catholic insignia, crying, "I, English; pure
Lutheran," and even exhorted their victims "not to believe in the
Holy Trinity nor in Our Lady, Holy Mary, declaring that there was only one
God." (24)
Once again the Spanish feared the worst. Oxenham,
they were sure, had been sent by his queen and planned to "make himself
master of all this realm." (25) With Cimarron
support there would be no stopping him. But if Oxenham
had any such plans, they came to an end when a Spanish force captured him and
carried him to Lima.
There he was hanged, and every known Englishman in his expedition was
eventually hunted down and killed or captured. The Spanish breathed a sigh of
relief, convinced that if the English had escaped "they would have
returned in such strength that, aided by the negroes, they would have become
masters of the Pacific, which God forbid, for this is the key to all Peru."
(26)
Whether the English, with the assistance of the Cimarrons,
could have ousted the Spanish from the isthmus is open to doubt. What gives the Cimarron alliance significance is not
its success or failure but the light it sheds on the English view of
themselves and of their role in the New World.
In spite of the fact that Drake had engaged in the slave trade, in spite of
the fact that the English in Ireland were at that very moment subjecting the
natives to a treatment not much different from what the Indians of Hispaniola
received from Columbus, the English in Panama had cast themselves as
liberators and had allied with blacks against whites. They had taught the Cimarrons their own religious views and engaged them in piracy and pillage
flavored with righteousness and revolution. The alliance seems to have been
untroubled by racial prejudice. To be sure, the
English were scarcely in a position to assume airs of superiority, but the
accounts suggest a camaraderie that went beyond the mutual benefits of the
alliance. When the Spanish caught up with them, they were camped together on
a riverbank where they had stretched a canvas awning for shade and "were
cooking a quantity of pork in kettles and amusing themselves together."
(27)
The Spanish were far from amused by the combination. They knew there was no
reason why the English should confine their appeal to blacks. The Cimarron
were not the only oppressed peoples in the Spanish
dominions who might become willing allies. Indeed, Drake was already making
contact with some. While Oxenham was launching his
English ship in the Pacific, Drake was preparing for his voyage around the
world, and by early in 1578 was cruising down the east coast of South
America. There at every pause his chaplain, Francis Fletcher,
recorded the good nature of the natives and the sadness of their subjugation.
Whenever the expedition met with hostile reactions, he interpreted these as a
result of the Indians' assumption that all white men were Spaniards or
Portuguese. Where it was possible to strike up relations with the natives he
found them charming. "How grievous a thing it is," he exclaimed,
"that they should by any meanes be so abused as all those are, whom the Spaniards have any command
or power over." (28)
Drake's voyage round the world was partly a pirate cruise, but it was
almost on the scale of piracy for millions. Drake brought back perhaps half a
million; and if he had reached Peru before Oxenham
was captured, he might conceivably have stolen part of an empire as well, for
he had a Cimarron aboard and may have planned to join forces with Oxenham at Panama. (29) The queen of England
refrained from outright endorsement of Drake's depredations and sequestered
most of the loot he brought back. But even though Spain
loudly demanded the return of the stolen goods, Elizabeth
hung on to them and rewarded Drake with a knighthood. His success had
transformed him automatically into something of a statesman. While Elizabeth
could not yet risk outright war with Spain,
Drake had made himself England's
unofficial ambassador to Spain's
most formidable New World enemies, the Cimarrons, and he stood publicly as the friend of all who
suffered under Spanish rule. We may ask how sincere his friendship could be
or how genuine could be an alliance with rebels that aimed at large-scale
theft. But alliances dignified under solemn treaties have often had no larger
aim; and friendships between different peoples have seldom extended beyond
mutual interest. The real question was whether the English could have or
would have offered the Cimarrons and other victims
of Spanish masters the kind of freedom that Englishmen at home were beginning
to pride themselves on.
In revulsion from their oppression under Mary and in the glow of their
enthusiasm for Elizabeth,
some Englishmen were ready to think of English freedom in global terms. Two in particular, who both bore the name of Richard Hakluyt had begun to urge their countrymen
to bring the blessings of English rule overseas and to bring to England the
riches that could be found not only in New Spain but elsewhere in the wide
world. Neither of the Hakluyts ever took an
ocean voyage. One was an undistinguished lawyer; the other, his younger cousin
and protégé, was an undistinguished clergyman, who devoted his days more to
geography than to God. (30) Neither stood close to the centers of power. But
both were sure that England
needed more of the world and that the world needed England.
The younger Hakluyt was the more ardent of the two, and his great achievement
was a monumental collection of narratives describing English voyages
throughout the world, The
Principal Navigations of the English Nation. (31) Though the first
edition was not published until 1589 and the much enlarged second edition not
until 1600, the compilation reveals the direction in which the exploits of a
Drake and Oxenham were turning the thoughts of the Hakluyts and other Englishmen by the 1570s and 1580s.
The Principal Navigations was in fact
a triumph of creative editing, a polemic in the form of a collection of
documents. By his massive accumulation of texts, Hakluyt was able to present
his countrymen with a record of persistent and pervasive overseas
accomplishments that had taken place during years when the English had been
in fact running considerably behind the Spanish and the Portuguese. The
object was not so much to give the English pride in their past as to spur them
to greater ventures overseas. Hakluyt's effort was comparable to what
English parliamentarians were at the same time doing on behalf of political
liberty. Modern freedom may be considered in large measure an English
invention, and some of the principal inventors were scholars who scoured the
past for precedents to magnify the power of the House of Commons. The
precedents that they found were often of dubious historical validity, but
Parliament's insistence on them turned them into bulwarks of Parliamentary
privilege and popular rights and made the arbitrary rule of an absolute
monarch impossible in England.
Similarly Hakluyt-- in order to magnify England's
global power-- drew precedents from the past, some of which were of equally
doubtful validity. He did not resort to doctoring his texts to suit his
intentions. He maintained standards of editorial accuracy far above those
that prevailed at the time. Nor did he exclude narratives that shed no glory
on his countrymen. He never lost the scholar's passion for inclusiveness, but
he could use inclusiveness to his own purposes. By adopting generous criteria
of relevance, he was able to present documents which imparted to the whole
book a powerful suggestion that Englishmen ought to rule the world they had
discovered.
Although Hakluyt devoted the great bulk of the book to the spectacular
voyages that had taken place in his own lifetime, he
put the reader in a receptive frame of mind by leading him first through the
semi-mythical exploits of earlier Englishmen in subduing a large part of the
narrower world known to earlier generations. In the opening pages was the
inspiring example of King Arthur, for whom "This kingdome
was too little ... and his minde was not contented
with it," wherefore he had taken over Norway,
Iceland, Greenland,
and other northern countries where the people "were wild and savage, and
had not in them the love of God nor of their neighbors." (32) And
then there was King Edgar, who had yearly sailed with a navy of 4,000 ships
round an empire (the boundaries not specified) which Englishmen might yet be
able to "recover and enjoy." (33) The famous 1436 poem on sea
power, The Libelle of Englyshe
Policye, which Hakluyt included in full, showed
how to go about the recovery by urging Englishmen "to make this land
have lordship of the sea." (34) There were precedents for expansion too
in Chaucer's description of the knights who “were wont in his time to travaile into Prussia
and Lettowe [Latvia],
and other heathen lands, to advance the Christian faith against Infidels and
miscreants, and to seeke honour by feats of
arms." (35) And there was perhaps a lesson to be learned even in
the chronicle of John de Plano Carpini concerning
the savage tyranny of the Tartars over the barbarous people of northern Asia,
so unlike the free and Christian governance of England's
kings. (36)
[Hakluyt's Plan] Like other imperialists,
Hakluyt was convinced that the world would be better off under his country's
dominion, and indeed that all good people would welcome it. Who would not
gladly abandon the tyranny of Spain
for the benevolence, the freedom of English rule? The
thought occurred to Hakluyt when he heard of Drake's alliance with the Cimarrons, and it prompted his first plans for an English
colony overseas. In 1579 or 1580, while Drake was completing his
circumnavigation, Hakluyt proposed that the English seize the
Straits of Magellan, the gateway to the Pacific, and plant a colony
there. Empire was clearly the object, but the means lay in the freedom from
tyranny and slavery that England's
brand of government would offer to the colonists, who were to be principally Cimarrons. The Cimarrons,
Hakluyt said, were “a people detesting the prowde
governance of the Spanyards." Because of their
trust in Drake, they would gladly move to the straits, by the hundreds or
thousands. There they would "easily be induced to live subject to the
gentle government of the English." The colony would be easy to sustain
because the Spaniard was too effeminate to endure the harsh climate of the
straits, whereas the Cimarron, bred "in all toyle
farre from delicacie,”
would think himself happy there,
when as by good provision
he shal find himselfe
plentifully fed, warmly clothed, and well lodged and by our nation made
free from the tyrannous Spanyard, and quietly and
courteously governed by our nation. (37)
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With
the assistance of the Cimarrons, who would be led
by English captains, and with a good navy, England
could roll up the Pacific coast of South America and "make subjecte to England
all the golden mines of Peru."
(37)
The Cimarron need not be the only people
to benefit from settlement in the straits colony. Hakluyt thought it might
also include "condemned Englise men and women,
in whom there may be founde hope of amendement." (38) Emigration would provide a
second chance for these unfortunates. Hakluyt's scheme, like Drake's actual
alliance with the Cimarrons, shows no sign of racial
prejudice, unless in this assignment of English criminals to a place
alongside the Cimarrons. That the colonists would
enjoy the freedom of Englishmen is suggested in Hakluyt's admission that they
might ultimately become independent. "Admit," he said,
... that the English there
would aspire to governement of themselves, yet
were it better that it sholde be soe then that the Spanyard shold with the treasure of that countrey
torment all the contries of Europe.
(39)
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He
did not say that the Cimarrons would share in the
aspiration for self-government, but neither did he suggest that they would be
held in any kind of bondage. And indeed the voluntary immigration he
envisaged for them would seem to preclude any such intention.
England
did not pursue Hakluyt's proposal, but by the time he made it, in 1579 or
1580, colonization was in the air. And Raleigh's
Roanoke
colony was only five years off. In that venture Drake and Hakluyt were both
to be closely involved. Some of the preconceptions they brought to the
enterprise should by now be evident. But the experience gained by Drake and
other corsairs in the Caribbean was not the only experience available to
guide the Roanoke
colonists. While Drake and Oxenham were probing the
Spanish empire close to its center, another set of Englishmen farther north
in the New World had been serving a
somewhat different apprenticeship for colonization.
If the Spanish had thought the continent north of Florida
worth having, they would probably have taken it. They traveled through it to
see what was there, on expeditions that measured their own endurance as much
as the resources of the continent. What they saw did not tempt them; and
though they worried about other European countries gaining a foothold in the
area, they left it unoccupied north of Florida.
Englishmen, partly because they had sponsored John Cabot's voyage to
North America in 1497, partly because of their own northern location, and
partly because the Spanish were not there, came to think of the northern
continent as their part of the New World.
(40) They wanted to find a passage to the Pacific through it or above it, but
by the 1570s they also thought of occupying it. To do so, they would have to
establish some sort of relations with the natives. Since the northern Indians
had not suffered at the hands of the Spaniard, they would not require
liberation and might not even welcome English dominion. How then to approach
them?
In the pages of Peter Martyr, Englishmen read how the Spanish had done it in the south. It
was apparent in Peter Martyr's account that the New
World contained two kinds of Indians. There were the friendly,
tractable peoples like the Arawaks whom Columbus
had found on Hispaniola; and there were hostile, unlovely peoples like the
Cannibals (a variation of "Carib") whom Columbus
had found on several other Caribbean
islands, and whose name was given by subsequent explorers to virtually every
unfriendly tribe, whether on the islands or the mainland. The good Indians,
by definition, hated the Cannibals and welcomed the assistance of the
Spaniards against them. And with the assistance of the good Indians a
handful of Spaniards had taken over the populous empires of Montezuma and of
the Incas. (41)
Supposedly the principal characteristic of the Cannibals was the one to which
the western world has ever since applied their name. But their most visible
characteristic was hostility to invaders. In the Spanish accounts there are
scarcely any eyewitness reports of someone actually eating human flesh, but
there are numerous accounts of hostile tribes, whom the invaders immediately
identify as Cannibals. When Englishmen thought about occupying North
America, they expected that they would find both kinds of Indians
there too and that the good ones would welcome assistance against the bad.
English assistance would, of course, bring them gentle English government and
would, of course, be preferable to the tyranny of the bad tribes.
The first large-scale English attempt to establish a colony in North
America took place in an area so bleak that it supported few
native inhabitants at all, and what few there were seemed to be of the wrong
kind. Martin
Frobisher, in search of a northwest passage to the Pacific,
found on an island near Baffin Land
a quantity of ore that assayers in England
pronounced to be gold. He also found a people who failed to welcome him with
the cordiality proper to good Indians. Moreover, five of his men disappeared
among them, presumably down their throats. When Frobisher returned to Baffin
Land with a large-scale
expedition of eleven ships, he did not count on friendly relations with the
natives, nor did he count on their labor to help him load his ships with ore.
Instead, he came provided with soldiers and settlers to seize the land, dig
out the ore, and establish a permanent gold-mining colony. Frobisher's plans
for a colony expired when the two hundred tons of ore he brought back to England
turned out to be fool's gold. He never indicated what place the Indians would
have had in his settlement if he had been successful; but he gave a hint of
how gentle his government might have been when on his first voyage he enticed
one man in a kayak close to his ship and then, seizing him by the arm, pulled
him aboard, kayak and all, and carried him home to show the queen. This was
hardly the way that Drake had dealt with the Cimarrons.
(42)
It was, however, akin to the way Englishmen had behaved in
another land where the natives proved unfriendly. (43) The Wild Irish had no poisoned arrows and could
not put up an effective resistance against invaders. Perhaps for that reason
the English who subdued them in the sixteenth
century did not generally call them cannibals. But the Irish, like the
Eskimos, were clearly the wrong kind of people. In the English view they were
barbarous, only nominally Christian, and generally intractable. The English
therefore made no attempt to find a good set of them to ally with. The Irish
could become good, that is, civil and Christian, only by submission. Those
who chose not to submit could be exterminated and replaced by more deserving
settlers from England.
Sir
Humphrey Gilbert, who won his knighthood by subduing the Irish,
himself proposed a colony that would bring peace and prosperity to Ireland
by replacing rebellious Irish with Englishmen. (45) It did not augur well for
English relations with the Indians of North America that Gilbert was to
transfer his interest from Ireland
to the New World.
When he did, after Frobisher's failure, he had in view a location well to the
south of the area abandoned by Frobisher. Gilbert had in mind a permanent
settlement of Englishmen that would serve many different purposes, among them
a base for piracy against the Spanish. [Gilbert's
New World plan] Gilbert, by promising investors princely domains in
the New World, was able to gather about him
a group of associates to finance the immigration of English laborers and
beggars. These poor wretches, like the felons in Hakluyt's proposed straits
colony, might be redeemed by the economic opportunities available in the new
land, and at the same time their labor in the colony would enrich the
gentlemen who backed them. (46)
Although Queen Elizabeth granted Gilbert a charter
that allowed him to hand out American land to investors, he had to consider
the question of how to deal with the current owners or occupiers of it. There
was no reason to suppose that the temperate regions of North
America were less densely populated than the tropics. And to
achieve a military conquest of the natives as he had done in Ireland
might require more men and longer supply lines than he could manage without
government financing. It would be wiser and safer to follow the Spanish
practice of alliance with good Indians against bad. Such was the advice
that the elder Hakluyt gave Gilbert. Nothing was more important, he said, than to get on good terms with the Indians of the area
where the settlement was made. In this way the English would learn "all
their wantes, all their strengthes,
all their weaknesse, and with whome
they are in warre, and with whome
confiderate in peace and amitie." (47) If the Indians on the coast were hostile,
this need not impair the strategy. The first settlement should be at the
mouth of a river, preferably on an island, which could be fortified. Then if
the neighboring Indians proved to be of the cannibal type, the English could
send an expedition up the river or along the coast to make contact with the
right kind. (48)
Gilbert confirmed the desirability of this strategy by questioning David
Ingram, an Englishman who had survived the battle at San Juan de Ulna. He had
been put ashore near there and, so he claimed at least, had walked through
the continent to Nova Scotia,
where he picked up a ride home in a fishing boat. According to Ingram, North
America was full of Indians at war with one another, and the most feared were
the Cannibals, "whose foode is mans flesh, and have teeth like dogges,
and doo pursue them with ravenous myndes to eate theyr flesh, and devoure them." It was not to be doubted that good
Indians pursued by Cannibals would welcome the protection of the English and
gratefully give up to them "such competent quantity of Lande, as every way shall be correspondent to the Christians expectation, and contentation.”
(49)
Nor was it to be doubted that the good Indians would work for the English in
producing whatever commodities the country afforded. Drake, confining himself
to pillage, had not been obliged to think about getting work out of anybody
other than the men who manned his ships, and the compulsion available to a
captain aboard ship has always been extraordinary. Hakluyt had not really
confronted the question of work in the colony he proposed for the Straits of
Magellan. Frobisher had brought along paid English labor, and his colony had
not lasted long enough to establish relations with the natives.[Labor] In planning
for labor, therefore, Gilbert had little to go on except the Spanish example,
and that he rejected. Gilbert did not count on discovering gold or silver.
Though he naturally hoped for treasure, and hoped also to find a northwest
passage, he envisaged a settlement in which men would "manure,"
that is, cultivate the soil and engage in the production of ordinary
commodities, either those that the country afforded naturally or those that
human ingenuity could extract from it: furs, fish, dyestuffs, lumber, and who
knew what else. Hakluyt had assured him that however barren the land
might appear, “every soyle of the world by arte may
be made to yeelde things to feede
and to cloth men.” (50) In thinking about the labor needed to make the
earth yield its fruits, Gilbert and his associates had decided to employ both
Englishmen and Indians. In both cases, they reasoned, all the inducement
needed was the comfort that well-directed work would purchase.
Christopher Carleill, an
enthusiastic supporter, reported how good-for-nothing English beggars had become
new men when given a job to do in the English army in the Netherlands. 51
If such paupers were shipped to North America,
they would surely have more to do and a better life than in the army.
Similarly the Indians, who now eked out a savage existence without proper
clothing or housing, would be transformed by the material comforts of
civilization and the spiritual comforts of Christianity. Sir George Peckham, who intended to sponsor a special community
within the colony, believed that the Indians "so soone
as they shall begin but a little to taste of civillitie,
will take mervailous delight in any garment be it
never so simple." (52) And the demand for the trappings of civility
would turn them from the indolent manner of living in which they allegedly
gathered from the land only what "the ground of itself' dooth naturally yeelde."
(53) When instructed by the English, they would understand "how the
tenth pan of their land may be so manured and emploied, as it may yeeld more
commodities to the necessary use of mans life, then
the whole now dooth." (54) As a result they
would
by little and little forsake
their barbarous and savage living, and growe to
such order and civilitie with us, as there may be
well expected from thence no lesse quantitie and diversitie of
merchandize then is now had out of Dutchland,
Italic, France or Spaine. (55)
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It was a blueprint for Utopia: English benefactors
living side by side with Indian beneficiaries, both enjoying new comforts in
peace and prosperity, with the Cannibals expelled to some outer region.
Indeed, if we turn to Utopia itself,
we find that Sir Thomas More
had envisaged nothing better in his ideal state, when he described the
Utopian manner of colonization:
... they
enroll citizens out of every city [in Utopia] and, on the mainland nearest
them, wherever the natives have much unoccupied and uncultivated land, they
found a colony under their own laws. They join with themselves the natives
if they are willing to dwell with them. When such a union takes place, the
two parties gradually and easily merge and together absorb the same way of
life and the same customs, much to the great advantage of both peoples. By
their procedures they make the land sufficient for both, which previously
seemed poor and barren to the natives. The inhabitants who refuse to live
according to their laws, they drive from the territory which they carve out
for themselves. If they resist, they wage war against them. They consider
it a most just cause for war when a people which does not use its soil but
keeps it idle and waste nevertheless forbids the use and possession of it to
others who by the rule of nature ought to be maintained by it. (56)
Gilbert, like the Utopians, was probably prepared to expel uncooperative
savages from unworked land that they would not part with. Sir George Peckham ventured his own opinion: "I doo verily
think that God did create lande, to the end that it
shold by Culture and husbandrie,
things necessary for yeeldmans
lyfe.” (57) The Indians, then, were expected to
give their land willingly and willingly to work under English guidance. But
land could rightly be taken, even in Utopia, from those who did not work it.
Work came first, property rights second. And where did freedom come? What
if the Indians refused the enticements of civility and refused to work for
what they did not want? The Spanish on Hispaniola
had considered and answered the question. In 1517 a team of Jeronymite friars had investigated the treatment of the
remaining Indians there and concluded that it was justified because they
would not work unless forced to. (58) "They must be made to work for Spain,
as the Spanish government proclaimed in 1513, "to prevent their living
in idleness." (59) In Hispaniola
work took precedence over freedom as well as property. Neither Gilbert nor
More reached such a conclusion. More would simply have driven out the lazy
natives. Gilbert and his friends probably would have taken the same course,
but were never faced with the decision. After a preliminary reconnaissance of
Newfoundland and the Gulf
of Maine, Gilbert was
lost at sea on the way home. His colony never got on the ground.
[Morgan's conclusion]
The Englishmen who finally settled North America
would have to face the problem of unwilling workers, not only with regard to
the natives but also with regard to the needy laborers they brought with
them. But by 1583, when Gilbert’s ship went down, English plans for the New
World did not include slavery or forced labor of any kind. The
Cannibals, to be sure, would receive rough treatment; but those who would
join with the English, whether the Cimarrons of the
south or the good Indians of the north would enjoy gentle government,
civility, Christianity, superior technology, and abundance. This was the
point at which English experience and thinking about America
had arrived when Walter Raleigh brought to convergence at Roanoke
the southern experience of Drake, the northern plans
of Gilbert, and the skilled guidance of the Hakluyts.
(7) The Spanish account most readily available to Englishmen was Peter
Martyr's De Orbo Novo, a running account by
decades, which began to appear in print in 1511. The completed Eight Decades
appeared in 1530. In 1555 Richard Eden published in London
an English translation of the first half of the work under the title The
Decades of the Newe Worlde
or West India, which was reprinted with
continuations and additional material under the same and other titles in
subsequent years. The most sensational description of Spanish tyranny was by Bartolome de Las Casas, who wrote from his own experience
in Hispaniola. Las Casas' major work, Historia de las Indian,
remained in manuscript until 1875, but his Brevissinta
relacion de la destruccion
de las Indias was
translated into English and published in London in 1583 as The Spanish Colonie; or, Briefe Chronicle
of the Acts and Genes of the Spaniardes in the West
Indies.
(8) Sherburne F. Cook and Woodrow Borah, Essays in Population History: Mexico
and the Caribbean, I (Berkeley,
Calif., '97t), 376-410.
(9) John Ponet, A Shorte
Treatise of Politike Power (n.p.,
1556), 69, 93,
94, 122.
(10) James A. Williamson, Hawkins of Plymouth ( 2nd
ed., London, 1969), is the best general
account of Hawkins' voyages, though modified by Antonio Rumen de Armas, Los Viajes de John Hawkins
a America (Seville,
1947). Contemporary English accounts are in Clements R. Markham, ed., The
Hawkins Voyager, Works issued by the Hakluyt
Society, at ser., VI (London,
1878). The Spanish accounts of Hawkins' activities have been translated and
published in Irene A. Wright, ed., Spanish Documents concerning English
Voyages to the Caribbean, 1517-1568, Works issued by the Hakluyt Society,
and set., LXII (London, 1929), 60-162.
(11) V. T. Harlow, ed., Ralegh's Last
Voyage (London,
1932), 279.
(12) All the documents on which the following account of Drake's voyage is
based are in Irene A. Wright's extraordinary collection from Spanish
archives, Documents concerning English Voyager to the Spanish Main,
1569-1580, Works issued by the Hakluyt Society, 2nd set, LXXI (London,
1932). Unless otherwise indicated, page references are to this volume, which
also reprints the anonymous English account, Sir Francis Drake Revived
(London,
628).
(13) P.
268.
(14) P. 336.
(15). P.
72.
(16) P.
10.
(17) Pp. 49-50.
(18) P.
300.
(19) P. 52
(20) Pp. 46-47.
(21) P.
69.
(22) Pp. 109-13.
(23) Pp. 113-16.
(24) P. 120.
(25) P.
113.
(26) P.
142.
(27) Pp. 132-33.
(28) W. S. Vaux, ed., The World Encompassed by Sir Francis Drake;
Works issued by the Hakluyt Society, at ser., XVI (London,
1854), 100.
(29) Kenneth R. Andrews, Drake's Voyages (New York, 1967), 42.
(30) The best study is George B. Parks, Richard Hakluyt and the English
Voyages, American Geographical Society, Special Publication No. 10 (New
York, 19z8).
(31) I have used the twelve-volume edition published at Glasgow,
1903. Volume and page numbers refer to this edition.
(32) 1, 6.
(33) 1,
6-24.
(34) II,
131.
(35) L 307.
(36) 1, 55-179.
(37) E. G. R. Taylor, ed., The Original Writings and Correspondence of the
Two Richard Hakluyt, Works issued by the Hakluyt Society, 2nd set, LXXVI,
LXXVII (London,
1935), 142-43.
(38) Ibid.
(39) Ibid.
(40) In the first edition of the Decades of the Newe
Worlde, Richard Eden followed his translation
of Peter Martyr with various accounts of the northern regions that urged
their exploration and colonization. See ff. 253. 263-76, 318. See also Roger
Barlow. A Briefe Summe
of Geographie, E. G. R. Taylor, ed., Works
issued by the Hakluyt Society, 2nd ser., LXIX (London, 1932), 180-82.
(41) For a succinct, though later, English reading of the lesson to be
learned from the Spanish conquest, see RVC, III, 558.
(42). Collinson, ed., The Three Voyages of
Martin Frobisher, Works issued by the Hakluyt Society, 1st ser., XXXVIII (London,
1867). For a lively and authoritative account of the voyages of Frobisher and
of other English explorers see Samuel Eliot Morison's incomparable The
European Discovery of America:
The Northern Voyages. A.D. 500-l600 (New York, 1971).
(43) The significance of the English experience in Ireland for later
experience in America has been extensively discussed by Howard M. Jones in
Strange New World (New York, 1964), 167-79; by David B. Quinn in a number
of works, especially "Ireland and Sixteenth-Century European
Expansion," Historical Studies, I (1958), 20-32; and most recently by
Nicholas P. Canny, "The Ideology of English Colonization: From Ireland
to America," WMQ, 3rd ser., XXX (1973), 575-98. [Footnote Abbreviations
will be found on pp. 383-93.]
(44) "But there were English reports of the Irish eating dead bodies and
of old women eating little children (Jones, Strange New World, 169), and Sir
Henry Sidney, the Lord Deputy of Ireland, referred to the rebel leader Shane
O'Neill as "that canyball" (Canny,
"Ideology of English Colonization," 587).
(45) David B. Quinn, ed., The Voyages and Colonizing Enterprises of Sir
Humphrey Gilbert, Works issued by the Hakluyt Society, 2nd ser., LXXXIII,
LXXXIV (London, ,938), I, 12-16, 118-128; II, 490-97.
(46) Ibid., II,
245-78.
(47) Ibid., I, 182.
(48) Ibid., 1, 81; cf. Taylor,
Writings of the Hakluyts, II, 34s.
(40) Quinn, Voyages of Gilbert, II, 452.
(50) Ibid., I, 185.
(51) Ibid., II, 361.
(52) Ibid., II, 461.
(53) Ibid., II,
452-53.
(54) Ibid., II, 468.
(55) Ibid., II, 357.
(56)Thomas More, Utopia, Edward Surtz ed.
(New Haven, 1964), 76.
(57) Quinn, Voyages of Gilbert, II, 468.
(58) Lewis Hanke, The First Social Experiments
in America (Cambridge,
Mass., 1935), 26-39.
(59) Lewis Hanke, The Spanish Struggle for
Justice in the Conquest of
America (Philadelphia,
1949), 25.
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