Film is a powerful instrument that has the capability of transferring massive amounts of information to the general populace. The data portrayed does not have to be factual to get the message across, but it has to be presented in a way that will capture the attention of an audience. Good films will give an individual an experience emotionally, intellectually, or even physically. This is one of the reasons people find movies entertaining. The written novel can also produce the same experiences as a film. Just like motion pictures, books have the ability to communicate an enormous amount of data in an entertaining and meaningful way. The average person, however, seems more likely to go to Blockbuster than their local Barnes & Noble. The professional historian traditionally prefers the written word as a more precise interpretation of the past. They find the popularity of film very disturbing because it constantly manipulates the past while their more accurate works gather dust at the local bookstore. This does not mean that movies are useless for the purpose of teaching history, nor does it mean the written word is never wrong. Despite Hollywood’s notorious reputation for fumbling the facts, films can bring to life historically correct themes. This conundrum is illustrated very well in Shekhar Kapur’s 1998 movie Elizabeth.
Kapur’s goal for this film was not an interpretation of history but of personality. He wished to explore what possibly went into the making of the Elizabethan icon. To accomplish this he explored the earlier years of Elizabeth’s life beginning with the end of Mary Tudor’s reign. The movie opened with dramatically violent music, and an introductory text to supply contextual information. The year was 1554, King Henry VIII was dead, and his daughter Mary was a childless Queen. England was divided between Protestant and Catholic, and the current administration feared the ascension of Elizabeth. The presentation of this information was not inaccurate historically, but there were some things missing. Edward VI was the ruler of England between the reigns of Henry VIII and Mary Tudor. The English Reformation took place under his administration, and legislation was passed to strengthen Protestantism. After the death of Edward VI, the Catholic Mary Tudor was to be crowned Queen according to the Acts of Succession created by Henry VIII. Despite some small obstacles Mary was crowned Queen in 1554, and returned the country to Catholicism. The movies failure to mention Edward’s reign is perplexing, and because of this absence an ignorant audience may—among other things—believe that Mary Tudor succeeded Henry VIII.
After the opening text, a brutal scene illustrated Mary’s infamous zeal for burning Protestants vividly portraying the veracity of England’s religious problems. The menacing Bishop Gardiner pronounced the heretics guilty of abandoning the one true faith with great passion. The Bishops very appearance was intimidating with his long black robes and single glass eye. The commotion and comments from the crowd depicted anger against this inhuman act attesting to the actual dislike of Bloody Mary’s reign. During the execution the crowd attempted to hasten the victim’s death by adding wood to the fire as armored guards pushed them back. Where did this animosity between Mary and her people originate? Was it, as the film depicts, simply the wicked Catholic authority versus the powerless Protestant majority? It was true that Protestantism had taken hold in many places throughout England during the sixteenth century, but it was by no means the universal practice. Catholicism had been in the country for over a thousand years, and this faith was not going to be erased over one generation—especially in the north. It could have been the very nature of Mary’s anti-Protestantism that angered the populace. Being burnt alive was a more gruesome death then a decapitation or hanging—the traditional English execution. Mary would burn about three hundred Protestants, and the victims were usually members of the lower and middle class. The upper classes converted with greater ease and this probably further alienated the Queen from her people. Never forget, however, that every good story has villains and heroes. Throughout this film Catholics were the antagonists and the Protestants were the protagonists. This opening scene helped establish the roles of these two religions in the plot, while it simultaneously illustrated an oversimplified interpretation of England’s religious issues in the sixteenth century.
Mary’s Catholic husband King Phillip II of Spain was another reason for the peoples unhappiness. They disliked the idea of being ruled by a foreigner, and Protestant leaders did not want to see the progress made during Edward’ reign destroyed. The Catholic powers at Mary’s court did not want her to fail in consummating a successor. If Mary produced an heir, Elizabeth would not be able to succeed her and Catholicism would be likely to stay in England. The hope of a future Catholic English king was worth tolerating Mary’s choice to marry Phillip II, but despite the marriage some nobles began to worry about an heir. There were rumors that Phillip and Mary did not share a bed like husband and wife. The Spanish King apparently found his new bride dull and was unenthusiastic to produce a son. The fear of Protestant succession crept into the minds of many powerful Catholics, and this lead to plots against the young Elizabeth’s life. The movie Elizabeth, introduces these issues and others with the scene following the heretics execution.
Bells ring in the background as the Duke of Norfolk was seen with his entourage of followers clad in yellow. They walked briskly through court toward the Royal Bedchamber. Norfolk paused to talk to a Lady of the Bedroom. He inquired if the rumors about the Queens pregnancy were true. The maiden admitted that there were signs of a child, but doubted its validity with the continual absence of Phillip II from Mary’s bedroom. Norfolk then proceeded into the Royal Bedchamber, and personally congratulated the Queen and King for this miracle. Mary was seen smiling appropriately at this complement, but Phillip was brilliantly shown sulking in his chair unexcited with his current situation. Ending the awkwardness, Mary moved on with the business of securing her realm. The Earl of Sussex announced that Sir Thomas Wyatt was in custody and the other rebels had been dealt with. Bishop Gardiner—Mary’s chief councilor—proclaimed that Wyatt intended to overthrow the government and put Elizabeth on the throne. Norfolk, Sussex, Gardiner, and the Spanish Ambassador pushed for Elizabeth’s arrest but Lord Arundel suggested caution. He warned of her powerful Protestant allies, and suggested action only with sufficient proof. Assured that evidence would be found against her sister, Mary ordered the arrest in a fit of rage: “My sister was born of that whore Anne Boleyn! She was born a bastard. She will never rule England! You your Grace will find some proof of her treachery. I am most sure of it.”
The scene summarized above was overwhelmingly historically correct. Norfolk’s followers did wear yellow, and using the bedchamber maiden as a source of information was very common. Ladies of the Royal Bedchamber were around the Queen almost twenty-four hours a day, and would have been privy to all of the monarchs private affairs. Mary’s court fluttered with rumors that her child was a fake, and it was probable that they began with gossiping maidens. Sir Thomas Wyatt had rebelled against Queen Mary in January of 1554 in response to her marriage to Phillip II. The revolt had not lasted long, but it had raised an opportunity to ensure Elizabeth’s incarceration. The Spanish Ambassador Renard and Bishop Gardiner had recommended her arrest and later sought execution. It is important to note that in the movie the Spanish Ambassador was Bishop Alvarez de Quadra despite the fact that there were many different ambassadors throughout this time period. Letters written to Elizabeth from Wyatt were intercepted and used as the principle evidence needed for the arrest. This, however, was not mentioned in the film, and not all of the advisors present were eager to act against Elizabeth. Arundel illustrated sympathy in this scene, and sources suggest others would have joined him. The Earl of Sussex was a man with an eye on the future and knew very well that Elizabeth could become Queen. For this reason he was obliged to show sympathy towards the princess, offering her more comfort than necessary during her initial arrival to the Tower. In the film, however, Sussex never amounted to anything but a henchman for the Duke of Norfolk. These inaccuracies may be frustrating for historians, but they do not take away from themes of this scene. Mary and her councilman’s fears about Elizabeth were denoted clearly along with the uncertainty of the Queen’s pregnancy.
Acting on Queen Mary’s orders, Sussex arrested Elizabeth and proceeded to take her to the Tower from her home in Whitehall. In the film, Robert Dudley was introduced before the arrest was made which, in reality, was physically impossible. In 1554, Dudley was a prisoner in the Tower for his family’s opposition to Mary after the death of Edward VI. His father, Lord Northumberland, was a commanding figure throughout Edward’s reign. During the power vacuum of the 1550’s he attempted to place his son Guildford on the throne via a marriage to Lady Jane Grey. This ended up in the execution of Guildford, Northumberland, and Lady Jane Grey while the remaining brothers of the Dudley family were locked in the Tower. Why then does the movie ignore this segment of history? The scene in question was the first time Elizabeth and Robert were shown as intimate friends. Dudley was first seen on a white stallion taking a maiden for a joy ride. Upon his dismount he saw young Elizabeth dancing in a field and asked to join. They were shown dancing together, playfully flirting, and leaving little question to the intimacy between them. This was vital to the love element of this movies plot, and this may be the reason that history was abused. There was, however, a possible alternative that the creators of this film overlooked.
When Elizabeth was taken to the Tower in March of 1554, Robert Dudley had been already incarcerated there for over six months. During this time period the Tower’s security was very strict because of the fear of rebellion and the number of political prisoners there. Elizabeth, however, was a princess and was able to get a number of personal freedoms— better food, walking in the garden, the ability to have servants, etc. While strolling through the garden one day a young boy brought her a bundle of flowers. The gift was rumored to have secret messages in them from fellow prisoner and childhood acquaintance Robert Dudley. This idea is not universally accepted amongst the historical community, but it is not unfeasible. Security systems were not perfect in sixteenth century England, and Robert was an ingenious character. The two had many things in common; they both had Acsham as a teacher, and they grew up in Edward’s court at the same time. These two individuals, with a common history, in a very uncertain point in their lives would seem like natural companions. The creators of the movie Elizabeth should have taken advantage of this setting to establish the intimacy of Robert and Elizabeth with historical correct themes. Instead they butcher history with complete falsehoods displayed for the sake of their story.
Elizabeth’s entrance to the Tower was an eerie sight. The camera slowly fell down the massive pillar towards the water below. Elizabeth was seen on a boat with a group of her personal servants. She stared in horror at the head on a pike to her right as she slowly entered the infamous prison with the gates closing behind her. This quick scene failed to mention that Elizabeth was being taken through Traitors Gate. The princess refused to go through initially, and claimed that she was no traitor. “O Lord, I never thought to have come in here as prisoner; and I pray you all, good friends and fellows, bear me witness that I come in no traitor, but as true a woman to the Queen’s majesty as any is now living; and thereon will I take my death.” Her escorts, Earls Sussex and Winchester, were very patient knowing that their captive was a potential monarch. During the ordeal Winchester offered his coat to Elizabeth, and Sussex allowed her to write to Queen Mary. Absent from the film, these historical moments was perhaps made up in imagery. The head on a pike was a good allusion to the gruesome end most experienced in the Tower, and she was taken through Traitors Gate despite the lack of its identification. The polite treatment given to Elizabeth by her captors would be seen later in the film along with her proclamation of innocence’s.
The film moved from Elizabeth’s initial incarceration to her interrogation. Encircled by Arundel, Sussex, and Gardiner she was accused of conspiring against the Queen with Sir Thomas Wyatt. She was indirectly called a heretic, and was treated harshly. Standing firm under the pressure Elizabeth asked for proof of her crimes. She declared herself to be a loyal subject to the crown, and true to the Catholic faith. Gardiner in this scene acted as the traditional bad cop, along with Sussex, and both of them viciously attacked her with accusations. Elizabeth asked, “…why must we tear ourselves apart over this small question of religion?” They replied that there was only one true religion the others being heresy. Arundel played the good cop and asked the princess very cordially to confess if there was any hint of truth in the charges. His kindness continued after the interview when he gave his coat to Elizabeth. Although Winchester was the actual man to perform this generous act, the idea that Elizabeth had sympathizers amongst those in power was portrayed well. Interestingly, the genuine Arundel had dropped to his knees during the interrogation begging Elizabeth for forgiveness. He would later be one of the many suitors for her hand in marriage. These facts may have persuaded the filmmakers to illustrate Arundel as the friendly Catholic or sympathetic villain throughout the film.
After questioning Elizabeth was locked in the Tower. The scene cuts to a distraught Mary foreshadowing the loss of her baby and eventual death. Elizabeth was sent for and as the guards approached the princess gravely stated, “Tonight I think I die.” She was taken through London’s streets as armed guards were seen pillaging, attacking, and killing commoners. This imagery continued to illustrate the violence of Mary’s reign, and the division between Protestant victims and Catholic villains. Upon Elizabeth’s arrival the two sisters meet for the first and only time in this film. Elizabeth entered the room and immediately went to her knees to proclaim her innocence. Mary was sulking in the shadows, and initially came out enraged at Elizabeth. This, however, did not last long as she broke down emotionally. Mary was in a state of hysteria. Her husband had abandoned her, she claimed her baby was poisoned, and seemed displeased that doctors diagnosed her pregnancy symptoms as the result of a tumor. Desperately she took Elizabeth’s hands into her own, and pleaded her sister to keep Catholicism as the one true faith of England. Elizabeth stated that she would “…act as her conscious dictates.” This did not please Mary, but she did not condemn Elizabeth to the fate of her mother. Elizabeth would be under house arrest in her manor at Hatfield.
The film’s denotation of time was unclear in the segment described above. Elizabeth was imprisoned for about four years, first in the Tower and later under house arrest at Woodstock and Hatfield. One moment in the movie Elizabeth was in her Tower cell, and two scenes later she was being escorted for a meeting with Queen Mary. The period between scenes could have been two days, a week, a month, or any other amount of time. Why was the filmmaker so ambiguous with chronology during this moment in Elizabeth’s life? Couldn’t there have been a way to better illustrate the events that occurred during her imprisonment? Yes and no. One of the challenges of creating a movie is time management. There are moments when it is necessary to summarize large amounts of time within a few minutes. This is as true for the writers of Hollywood as it is for the authors of history.
The filmmaker was able to accurately portray many important themes despite the manipulation of time. Mary was truly worried about her child being poisoned, and there were many doctors that believed she had cancer. Her husband had left her, and Elizabeth’s ascension was guaranteed as long as Mary refused to sign her death sentence. Elizabeth’s strong conviction to follow her own beliefs was shown in her inability to promise Mary the continuation of Catholicism. Life for Elizabeth was also uneventful during her time under house arrest. She would continue her various studies, visit with approved guests, and wait for the news of her sister’s inevitable death. If the filmmaker had not summarized this segment of history, than the story would have become too long and unentertaining. Notwithstanding the uncertainty of time, the failure to mention Elizabeth’s imprisonment in Woodstock and her time under house arrest in general, the movie summarizes the important relevant historical events as well as any high school textbook.
Between the time of Mary’s death and Elizabeth’s ascension the film began to clearly highlight the main protagonists and antagonists. Sir William Cecil and Sir Francis Walsingham were introduced, illustrated as enemies to Catholics and supporters of Elizabeth. Cecil would become Secretary of State under Elizabeth’s reign, and was one of the most influential advisors in her majesty’s court. He was forced—according to the film—to meet with Elizabeth in secret before Mary’s death. This was done in a confessional, but more than likely any correspondence between the two was done through letters. After all he had a close relationship with Elizabeth, and was the official Surveyor of her land and property since 1551. Cecil’s character, his relationship with Elizabeth, and role in her court was very well portrayed throughout the movie. He was always by her side offering advice that he believed beneficial to England and the survival of her reign. As the film depicted he strongly pushed for Elizabeth’s marriage, and believed the best suitor to be a member of either France or Spain. He hoped to gain national security through an alliance with one of the powerhouses of sixteenth century Europe. He also sought protection from enemies within Elizabeth’s court, and was notorious for discovering plots against her majesty. There were only a couple major qualities not depicted in Cecil’s character. His strong Protestant beliefs were never illustrated, nor were the extent of his espionage contributions to Elizabeth’s government.
Unfortunately, the creators of this film did not produce as nearly an accurate representation of Francis Walsingham as they did for William Cecil. Walsingham’s name was first brought up in a court scene following the meeting between Mary and Elizabeth. Norfolk feared his return and arranged a futile assassination attempt shown in the following scene. This introduction clearly established Walsingham as an opponent to Catholicism, and supporter of the new Protestant queen. Throughout the movie he was depicted as an influential member of Elizabeth’s inner circle responsible for much of the Queen’s success. He was the secret agent man lurking in the shadows to discover the many threats to Elizabeth. Walsingham, however, was in France from the mid 1550’s to about 1570 first as an exile and latter as an English ambassador. In reality he was not a prominent member of Elizabeth’s court until the mid 1570’s, and before this time he corresponded more with the man responsible for starting his political carrier –William Cecil. In addition Walsingham’s deep Puritan beliefs were never denoted, and he had little to no part in the affairs of Norfolk. The filmmakers, however, paid little tribute to these historical particulars. As the film moved on Walsingham and Norfolk increasingly became the main representatives for good and evil, Protestant and Catholic, protector and assassin, protagonist and antagonist.
The Duke of Norfolk in this movie was the leader of the Catholic opposition to Elizabeth. This was illustrated through his ordering of Walsinghams assassination, his attempts to have Elizabeth dethroned or killed, and his overall demeanor at court. Norfolk would constantly belittle Elizabeth both in council and in private. In the film, he was the one who unreluctantly pushed for battle against Mary of Guise in Scotland, and he constantly told his many lovers that the heretic Queen would fall. Members of his entourage included the Earl of Sussex, Lord Arundel, Bishop Gardiner, and the Spanish ambassador De Quadra. He would later correspond with these men and the Pope in an attempt to assassinate Elizabeth. This picture of the Duke of Norfolk, however, was terribly inaccurate. The man was Protestant, and was regarded as an ignorant nobleman of high blood that was too proud for his own good. Records indicate the man lacked the ability to coordinate the detailed plots against Elizabeth, and was more than likely a patsy to greater minds. Why then make Norfolk the villainous mastermind behind an assassination attempt on Elizabeth? There were certainly other members of the aristocracy that would have been a better candidate for an enemy of Elizabeth. Lord Northumberland, for example, led an army against the Queen in an attempt to overthrow her reign. What Norfolk’s history has, however, that Northumberland’s and others lacked was drama. Norfolk “planned” to overthrow Elizabeth by marrying Mary Queen of Scots, and this was much more exciting than an average armed rebellion. Northumberland also survived his uprising in exile, but Norfolk was arrested and eventually executed for treason. The historical drama surrounding the end of the Duke’s life was just to tempting for filmmakers to pass up, and in order to produce a traditional tale of good versus evil Norfolk was villainized.
By the time of Elizabeth’s coronation, the film had established important character traits. Norfolk and his party were the villainous Catholics while Elizabeth and her supporters were the righteous Protestants. This was accomplished by bending chronological facts via Walsingham’s appearance in England, and the manipulation of Norfolk’s historical persona. William Cecil was portrayed with greater accuracy, but this hardly justified neglecting these other historical truths. The inaccuracies of various characters in history, represented in this film, would later taint attempts to illustrate acceptable historical themes. Fortunately the filmmakers created a more palatable vision of Elizabeth’s courtship and her early years as Queen.
With the heroes firmly separated from the villains, Mary dead, and Elizabeth crowned, the film began to indicate the problems with the new Queen’s kingdom. The filmmakers kept the historical facts accurate when they described England as a pitiable nation with little security and treasure. Cecil warned that Spain and France threaten from abroad, and Mary Queen of Scots along with Norfolk were plotting to overthrow her majesty from within. He stated that until she married and produced an heir, her reign would not be safe. Elizabeth was urged to marry by everyone in hopes of obtaining security through a foreign alliance, or if the husband was an Englishman domestic peace via the creation of a successor. The movie does not depict why England’s treasury was empty, but it was true that Mary’s various unsuccessful military campaigns bankrupted the nation. It was also accurate in its assertion that Mary Queen of Scots declared herself the true Catholic Queen of England. The film, however, failed to mention Mary’s religion, and Norfolk was not involved in any plots to eliminate Elizabeth at this time. Once again historically accurate themes were illustrated, but the details omitted would surely anger authors of written history.
Another issue that required immediate attention upon Elizabeth’s ascension was religion. The film denoted very little contextual information in regards to the assembly scene at Westminster Abbey in March of 1559. The Act of Uniformity was mentioned in Elizabeth’s dialogue with the clergy, but the significances of this law was not explained. The Act of Supremacy, which was introduced and passed at the same time, was completely ignored. Under the Act of Supremacy, Elizabeth became the “supreme governor” of the English Church. The Act of Uniformity banned all non-Protestant worship within England, but this law was not very effective until the Subscription Act of 1571. These acts were originally created and passed under Henry VIII, but were revoked by Bloody Mary. With Elizabeth as queen, the laws were reinitiated and re-established royal supremacy with full Protestant worship. These religious changes could not have occurred with out the help of William Cecil. He was the one who arranged the Westminster Abbey debate, and limited it to only include information justified by Scripture alone. These parameters angered many Catholics bishops, and they walked out of the assembly. Cecil also had two bishops imprisoned, and these laws became the first religious legislation to be ratified without the churches consent.
The film only depicted the incarcerated bishops, the Act of Uniformity, and a tense atmosphere during the Westminster debate. Norfolk was seen at the meeting wondering where Bishop Gardiner and other influential Catholic bishops were. After the debate, Walsingham was shown releasing the absent bishops from a prison cell, and announced that the legislation passed by five votes. In the film there were too many incarcerated bishops, and Walsingham—as stated before—was in France at this time. William Cecil should have been indicated as the one responsible for this action, but his character was not depicted as a masterful conniver like Walsingham. It should also be noted that Gardiner at this time was dead despite his appearance in this scene. Another issue with the films depiction was Elizabeth declaration that these laws were for her people. Although she knew the dangers of alienating the masses, Elizabeth was not afraid to boost her own position. The Act of Supremacy gave her the Pope’s role for the Church of England, and this significantly increased her power. Finally the movie failed to mention the other religious laws ratified at this time, and primarily used this moment in history to encompass two themes. The first was the same Catholic versus Protestant confrontation that has been denoted since the beginning, and the second was Elizabeth’s political acuteness.
Elizabeth’s famous ability to charm her way through debates was illustrated very well by the filmmakers, and was the most accurate display of a historical theme. Both in history and in this movie she was knowledgeable, knew when to be cautious, and when to be assertive. When the bishops at the Westminster assembly proclaimed that a separation from the Pope was heresy Elizabeth replied, “No your grace. This is common sense, which is a most English virtue.” This amused the crowd greatly, which then turned to the question of marriage. Once again sharp witty replies were made. She declared that so many people had so many different selections that she could only appease everyone by marrying everyone. This statement brought a lecture from one of the bishops about the sanctity of marriage, but Elizabeth shot him down by bringing up his rather long divorce record. These exchanges in the film highlighted Elizabeth’s playful yet determined nature, and her ability to move along the middle path in politics.
After the various religious reforms were initiated many angry Catholic clergyman wrote to Elizabeth denouncing the Protestant heresy. In a letter to a group of “deprived bishops” the Queen decided to give an intelligent rebuttal while concurrently illustrating a firm yet forgiving position. This was very similar to her approach at Westminster in the film, but contained a less humorist’s tone due to her strong political position with the issue at hand. She rebutted the claim that the Pope was a higher authority with historical examples. “For our Savior Christ paid His tribute unto Caesar, as the chief superior; which shows your Romish supremacy is usurped.” She went on to warn the bishops that continued provocation of this issue would lead to “penalties enacted for the punishing of our resisters: which out of our clemency we have forborne.” Elizabeth was not going to make the mistake of her sister reign and come down with an iron fist against the opposing religion. At the same time she could not afford to be portrayed as a weakling. She would attempt a middle path between the extremes, which often worked towards her advantage. This was her position in politics, and the film does an excellent job portraying this trait with few factual mistakes.
The middle path also severed her well against the many men that would seek her hand in marriage. The numerous courtships of Elizabeth were summarized in this film through three suitors: Phillip II, Robert Dudley, and the Duke of Anjou. There were actually many more men seeking the Queen’s hand, and they are vividly described in many written works such as Josephine Ross’s Suitors to the Queen. It would have been impossible for the creators of this film to include all of Elizabeth’s early courtships without sacrificing the overall story and its flow. The Earl of Devon, Philip II, William Pickering, Robert Dudley, the Earl of Arran, Archduke Ferdinand, Lord Arundel, the King of Sweden, and Archduke Charles were all interested in becoming Elizabeth’s husband. As stated earlier there is just not enough time to illustrate every historical event on a subject in one movie. This limitation and the filmmaker’s ignorance of history, tainted the general atmosphere of the three courtships, but Elizabeth’s reactions to her suitors was well crafted. When De Quadra asked Elizabeth to consider Phillip II as a husband—while Mary Tudor was still alive—she was disgusted. She was later seen talking to Robert Dudley about the proposal, and her concerns about Phillip’s absenteeism as a ruler and husband were expressed. The film never bothers with Phillip’s request again because the two main suitors for Elizabeth were Dudley and Anjou. The King of Spain, however, was much more persistent than exemplified. He sought the Queen’s hand in marriage through various means until the mid 1560’s but was always rejected. Afterwards he would attempt to control and/or check English power first by supporting certain suitors of Elizabeth and later through military might via the Spanish Armada.
One of Phillip’s constituents was none other than Robert Dudley. The King of Spain recruited the surviving Dudley brothers from their imprisonment in the Tower in October 1554. As vassals to Phillip II they were sent to fight against France, and Robert would be commended for his performance as Master of the Ordinance. In March of 1557, Robert would return home with his family “restored in blood,” and was able to acquire some of his father’s property. He would later sell a portion of this property to help out his lifelong personal friend Elizabeth with financial difficulties. This act of generosity was one of the reasons Elizabeth was so fond of Robert. They were also—as stated earlier—children in the court of Edward VI and cellmates in the Tower. None of this history, however, was portrayed in the movie, and neither were the promotions rewarded to Robert from the new Queen. Few in court were surprised that Elizabeth granted many favors to Robert, and he was not the only one to benefit from her becoming queen. Walsingham and especially Cecil—later Lord Burghley—also gained many favors and titles under Elizabeth’s reign. Robert would become Master of the Queen’s Horse, and was given a position in the Privy Council. He would later become Earl of Leicester, which was actually mentioned by Walsingham towards the end of the film. Robert’s influential and intimate relationship with Elizabeth steadily increased throughout her early reign much to the dislike of other members in court. This theme was well illustrated in the film, but the contextual information regarding Robert’s relationship with Elizabeth was blatantly skewed.
After the controversial death of his wife in September of 1560, Robert began a strong campaign to marry Elizabeth. The Queen defiantly held deep affections for Robert, but she never gave concrete answers to his inquiries about marriage. Never the less Robert sought the support of his old benefactor the King of Spain. He accomplished this alliance through the Spanish Ambassador De Quadra. It was agreed that Phillip II would support the marriage of Robert and Elizabeth—politically and militarily—if the Queen converted to Catholicism and declared herself a vassal of the King of Spain. Elizabeth would never agree to these terms, but Robert convinced De Quadra he could turn her around. The Spanish Ambassador illustrated skepticism at this boast, but at the same time he believed Robert to be the only man capable of accomplishing such a feat. In court De Quadra would indicate that Phillip II would not object to Elizabeth marrying Robert, and regularly recommend him as a suitor.
The filmmakers left out this layer of Robert’s courtship to Elizabeth. On the silver screen he was the hopeless romantic trying to win the woman of his dreams through dancing, poetry, and charm. Robert Dudley, the whimpering lover of Elizabeth who was heartbroken by her eventual rejection. De Quadra never recommended Robert as a husband to Elizabeth in the film. Instead the relationship between Robert and Spain was distorted. It is not towards the end of the movie that he allies with the Catholic enemy under pressure to save his Elizabeth from the dangers of remaining single. This was shown as an act of desperation. In reality Robert’s allegiance with Spain was well calculated, and was not initiated by De Quadra. The absences of this information from the film hinder its portrayal of Robert and Elizabeth’s relationship. Robert was not only the hopeless romantic that Hollywood portrays. He had a dark side to his life, and was not afraid to go against Elizabeth’s interests to further his own position.
On June 24th, 1561, the three players in this love connection found themselves together at a Thames River party hosted by Robert himself. The event was very festive with elaborate decorations, fantastic fireworks, and lively music. At one point the three of them were alone on a boat, and De Quadra described the scene as follows:
They began joking, which she likes to do much better than talking about business. They went so far with their jokes that Lord Robert told her that, if she liked, I could be the minister to perform the act of marriage and she, nothing loath to hear it, said she was not sure whether I knew enough English.
De Quadra took the insult lightly, and continued to warn Elizabeth about the hazards of staying single. She reassured him that marriage was not out of the question, but this was probably more political than sincere. Elizabeth needed to keep Phillip II docile with the increased tension along the Scottish border and the fear of a Franco-Scot invasion. Robert Dudley would continue his futile pursuit for Elizabeth’s hand in marriage for as long as he lived. Elizabeth, however, would not allow such a thing to pass. Robert was an emotional anchor for her, and remained under her effective control as a suitor and/or lover. If he became king her power over him would be loss, and Elizabeth would not allow that to occur.
The creators of Elizbeth illustrated the historical event described above without consulting their local library. The Thames River party in the film was designed to further develop the intimate relationship between Robert and Elizabeth while illustrating the disgust it produced in court. The scene started by showing Robert and Elizabeth in the same boat together. Robert was performing romantic Shakespearean like poetry to her, and the camera shows other members of Elizabeth’s court—Norfolk, De Quadra, Anjou and his ambassador—staring with repugnance at their playful banter. The quote given before by De Quadra was played out in this scene, but the ambassador was denoted to be very offended by the audacity of Robert and Elizabeth. Robert was definitely trying to convince Elizabeth to marry, but Spanish aide was not illustrated. Also during the actual event there was no record of an assassination attempt on Elizabeth, and Anjou would not have been present. The French duke would not have become a possible suitor for another seven years. With the inaccuracies of the Thames River party, the filmmakers seem to have manipulated historical facts for historical themes that more closely fit their story. This is generally unacceptable for historians of written history. They cannot simply manipulate their research to coincide with whatever suits their interests. This destroys the integrity of history and produces inaccurate historical themes. The film also used this disruption of history for the Duke of Anjou’s courtship of Elizabeth.
Anjou has been depicted as a degenerate homosexual with devilish good looks. The filmmakers would take this historical description and run with it. In the movie, Elizabeth caught Anjou cross-dressing while his entire entourage partook in a bisexual orgy. This was every entertaining, but historicaly impossible. As seen before chronology was tampered with, and this time individuals were in countries that they never visited. In the case of the Duke of Anjou, his age relative to Elizabeth was much greater than depicted. The film was about young Elizabeth, and even if a few years had passed since her coronation she would still be in her late twenties. Elizabeth was actually forty-six at the time of this courtship, and Anjou was about half her age. Anjou, in the movie, was also present at the Thames River party that occurred in 1561. Serious communication about a possible marriage was not started until the late 1560’s, and the young French aristocrat never set foot in England. The only slight hint of historical truth for this subplot was the name of the French ambassador Paul de Foix. Catherine de Medici—Anjou’s mother and co ruler of France—sent him to England to personally handle Elizabeth’s courtship. In France, Elizabeth had Walsingham as her representative. Although the two would be lovers never met face to face, many on both sides of the English Channel were eager to accept the possibility of a successful match. In the end, however, all hope was futile. Anjou’s marriage contract was overzealous. He demanded to rule jointly with Elizabeth and wanted an allowance of 60,000 pounds annually. He insisted on the right to practice Catholicism, and would not attend the Church of England. In addition if Elizabeth dies these benefits would continue throughout Anjou’s life. The Queen and her councilors were willing to be flexible with the negotiations, but the lack of a religious comprise doomed the Duke of Anjou’s chance at marriage.
In the film, unfortunately, the courtship between Anjou and Elizabeth fails to highlight any relevant historical themes. The chronology, placement of characters, and the method of communication were completely inaccurate. This would not be the only time during this film that a crime against history was committed. The plots climax was crammed with errors, which doomed this film’s ability to portray historically accurate themes as a whole. The concluding clash between Protestant and Catholic took the form of what historians call the Ridolfi Plot. This was one of three catholic conspiracies that involved disgruntle English nobles, Mary of Scots, the Pope, and Spain. The idea was to have the Duke of Norfolk wed Mary of Scots, and once this occurred a Spanish army would provide reinforcements to English rebels lead by Earls Westmorland and Northumberland. When Elizabeth’s forces were defeated Norfolk and Mary would take the English crown, and with the Pope’s support restore Catholicism throughout the kingdom.
These conspiracies to overthrow Elizabeth started shortly after Mary of Scots escaped her prison in Lochleven in 1568, and fled to England for protection. Mary was originally imprisoned for the supposed murder of her previous Scottish husband Lord Darnley, and Elizabeth was well aware of her notorious reputation. Shortly after arriving in England, Norfolk met with Mary’s representatives: John Leslie, Bishop of Ross, and Maitland of Lethington. Maitland would suggest during a hunting expedition that Norfolk—whose third wife had recently died in childbirth—should wed Mary of Scots. Norfolk was the only duke in England, and held considerable power throughout the land. His Protestantism would balance out Mary’s Catholicism, and this would supposedly create peace between the religions. He had the wealth, the noble blood, and the means to accomplish this scheme. Unfortunately for the duke, these best laid plans would go to waste.
Rumors of the conspiracy quickly spread throughout the kingdom. What Elizabeth, and probably Norfolk, didn’t know was how many simultaneous plots were being hatched. Three separate yet related schemes—all wanting to see Mary replace Elizabeth as queen—were played out from 1569 to 1571. The first plot involved Maitland, Norfolk, the current ruler of Scotland Regent Murray, Bishop of Ross, and Robert Dudley. This plan was the least violent of the three, and would only declare Mary and Norfolk as successors to Elizabeth. Robert’s support for this plan was key. He was the one that was supposed to gain Elizabeth’s favor for the idea, and deflect Cecil’s objections in court. Robert’s participation in this plot was yet another desperate attempt to marry Elizabeth. With Norfolk and Mary as successors the consequences of Robert marrying Elizabeth would become null and void. The second conspiracy involved the Pope, Lord Arundel, Northumberland, Westmorland, and other northern English Catholics. This plan was very similar to the one described earlier to lead an armed rebellion supported by Spain that coincided with the proposed marriage. The third plot involved participants from the second conspiracy—those left alive—and an Italian banker named Ridolfi. The Ridolfi plot, however, took place two years after the other conspiracies, and never reached the point of armed rebellion. All three of these plots occurred around the same time, and had the same goal; overthrow Elizabeth in order to put Norfolk and Mary of Scots on the English throne.
The movie Elizabeth, never alluded to the fact that three scandals were being displayed simultaneously. All were summarized into one inaccurate portrayal that vaguely represented the Ridolfi scandal—despite the films lack of Florentine bankers. There was a brief scene with the Pope that illustrated the Papal Bull declaring the assassination of Elizabeth free from sin. In a later segment, an English Catholic priest present during the Vatican scene, was shown handing copies of the Papal Bull to Norfolk. At this time, the priest also uncovered a spy loyal to Walsingham amongst Norfolk’s entourage and brutally beat him to death. This vicious act further illustrated the Catholics as the villains of this film. The next scene relevant to the conspiracy, denoted De Quadra, Norfolk, and the Catholic priest—no name was given to this character—leaving a room. The impression was that the plot was beginning to gain speed, and that Spain was somehow involved.
Walsingham would eventual discover the conspiracy against his queen. He warns her of Norfolk’s growing power, and the Papal Bull issued against her. With Elizabeth’s approval the priest would be found, arrested, and a confession would be tortured out of him. Walsingham was later shown reading his discoveries to Elizabeth. Gardiner, Arundel, Sussex, Norfolk, De Quadra, and Robert were named as traitors to the state. Walsingham also spoke about the approval of her assassination by the Pope. Elizabeth firm conviction to stop this conspiracy was strongly portrayed, and she gave the approval for Walsingham to act.
All of the traitors—accept Robert—were arrested and killed in the following montage. Robert was Elizabeth’s “reminder” of how close she came to destruction. Arundel would be convicted, but his children would receive no punishment because of his role as the sympathetic villain. Sussex was detained while relieving himself, and Gardiner along with De Quadra were simply executed on sight. Norfolk’s final speech exemplified his proud noble nature: “A man’s courage is in the manor of his death. I am content to die for my belief. So cut off my head, and make me a martyr. The people will always remember it.” Walsingham calmly told Norfolk that he was mistaken, and that the people would forget him soon enough. The main antagonist of the film was last shown on the execution block as the axe descended upon the back of his neck. The next shot illustrated that Sussex and Arundel shared the fate of Norfolk. The three traitors had their heads displayed on a pike. With her realm secure, and her heart made cold by Robert’s betrayal, Elizabeth donned the image of a Virgin. According to the closing texts Elizabeth would lead England to a Golden Age, and one can assume that everyone would live happily ever after.
The segment of the film described above had a terrible sense of chronology, misrepresented historical figures, and over simplified the multiple conspiracies from 1569-1571. By this time Gardiner and De Quadra would have already been dead. The Spanish Ambassador involved in the conspiracies was Don Gerald de Spes, and he was not killed in Elizabeth’s court. Sussex, as mentioned at the beginning of this paper, was not a traitor to the queen. He would serve her majesty’s army well, and died an honorable death in 1583. Arundel was not executed for his participation but was put under house arrest. Once again, Walsingham was in France at this time, and would not be in England for another few years. Finally, the priest whom was captured by Walsingham, and sent by the Pope to assassinate Elizabeth was completely fictional. Charles Baily was the closest historical figure that was even remotely similar to this Catholic priest. Charles was a simple Scotsman who was arrested for carrying prohibited books and ciphered letters for Mary’s advisor Bishop of Ross. Cecil had discovered the vial intention of these letters by placing a spy in the same prison as Charles. When more information was needed, and could not be obtained through espionage Cecil used torture. Charles confession lead to further arrests of suspects involved with the Ridolfi plot. The only connection between Charles and the film’s villainous priest was their arrest and torture for conspiring against the queen.
Robert Dudley and Norfolk’s characters were abused to a greater degree than those mentioned above furthering the destruction of historically accurate themes. Firstly, Norfolk was arrested before the Ridolfi plot. By the end of 1569, the current conspiracy afloat was the one involving an actual armed rebellion along side Norfolk’s marriage to Mary—the Ridolfi plot would occur later. All of the key players were in place. Northumberland along with sympathetic northern nobles were ready and waiting to capture Mary at Wingfield. Once this occurred Spanish troops were suppose to land, and meet up with the northern rebels. Meanwhile Robert had taken ill, and requested to have Elizabeth at his bedside. When she came he confessed all the details concerning the scheme to overthrow her. He was privy to this information because of his involvement of in the first conspiracy earlier that year. He pleaded for a pardon, which he eventually received. Elizabeth feared for her life and began to prepare for a possible civil war. She quickly relocated Mary to the fortress at Tutbury, and shut herself in Windsor Castle for her own protection. Ports across the nation were shut down, and the queen’s army was called into service. None of this information was displayed in the film, and even more data would be left out.
Cecil and Robert were commanded to write to Norfolk, and demand his presence at court. Norfolk previously left court after being confronted about his dealings with Mary by Elizabeth. Under the council of Robert he denied all involvement, and once this was said his pride would not allow him to go against his word—even if it was a lie. Cecil and Robert’s letters to Norfolk only increased his fear. He received the impression that if he came to court he would be sent to the Tower. He refused to return to court, stating his poor health prevented travel. Elizabeth now wrote to Norfolk:
Which manner of answer we have not been accustomed to receive from any person; neither would we have you to think us so mean a consideration as to allow an excuse by a fever, having had so straight a commandment from us; and the case also made so notorious, as first by your departure, and now by your delay in coming, that our estimation herein cannot but be in some discredit, except you do immediately repair to us, though the same be in a litter, and so we do expressly command you: in which doing you shall make demonstration by deeds of the humbleness and loyalty that you have by your letters and messages expressed.
After this summons was sent, Norfolk contacted his allies in the north and attempted to stop the rebellion before things got any worse. Unfortunately for the duke it was to late. On November 14th, 1569, Northumberland and his followers began their attack by sacking Durham Cathedral. After destroying much of the churches property—including vernacular Bibles—the rebel army marched southward.
The Queen’s militia was lead by Lord Sussex who was the current President of the North—a villain in the movie but a hero in history. Without the promised support from Norfolk or Spain the revolt was easily crushed. Norfolk and Mary of Scots were arrested and sent to the Tower. Other members were either in exile or arrested, while Robert escaped any punishment—thanks to his sick bed confession. Norfolk in 1572 was beheaded followed by Mary in 1587. Elizabeth delayed their execution because they were both her cousins, and she was uncertain about the political and moral ramifications. Norfolk might have spent the rest of his days under house arrest, but he got involved in the Ridolfi plot of 1571. This was the last of the three conspiracies mentioned earlier which ended in failure. Cecil had gotten wind of this plot early. First Charles was arrested which lead to the incarceration and eventual confession of the Bishop of Ross. The information derived from these two men implicated Norfolk for treason beyond any doubt. In the film, this information was either ignored and/or manipulated. The creators of this movie attempted to illustrate an oversimplified version of a complex historical event. This failure to accurately summarize events inhibited the display of effective and accurate historical themes.
The filmmakers also failed to demonstrate the context of Norfolk’s execution, and did not denote the change in Elizabeth’s government after the conspiracies from 1569 and 1571. Despite the vast amount of evidence towards Norfolk’s disloyalty, it took an angry Parliament to finally get Elizabeth signature on his death sentence. Cecil also urged the execution. The powerful traitor had to be made an example. Unfortunately, Elizabeth was not as pleased with Norfolk’s death as Cecil was, and would blame him for years to come. The film depicted Walsingham pushing for Norfolk’s arrest, and Elizabeth approved his execution without any signs of regret. Also not illustrated in the film was Cecil’s newfound political power. The movie simply depicted Cecil receiving his title of Lord Burghley, and was forced by Elizabeth to retire before the conspiracies. In reality, he was far from retirement and the various scandals had diminished all of his opponent’s power. Robert Dudley, the only other political contender, was pardoned but in disfavor with Elizabeth. Cecil took advantage of this time to raise his own men to power in Elizabeth’s government. This included his long time companion Francis Walsingham. With all of the changes occurring after the various conspiracies of the late 1560’s Elizabeth’s government would never look the same.
This film ignored massive amounts of written records in its attempt to illustrate a historically based story. Chronology, members of Elizabeth’s court, and their personalities were manipulated to fit the movies plot. Events displayed took place between 1554-1572. The audience has no indication of these dates other than the opening text at the films start. Years fly by in seconds without the slightest explanation of what occurred and how it was significant. The beginning of the movie semi-successfully established the many problems of Elizabeth’s reign using historically accurate themes. The end of Mary Tudor’s reign, Elizabeth’s life before becoming queen, and her political abilities as queen lacked some details but was overwhelmingly correct. As the movie progressed, however, history was left farther back in the dust. The courtships of Elizabeth exemplified were oversimplified and chronologically inaccurate. Robert Dudley’s attempt, however, was not as bad despite using false data to produce the desired effect. The fall and execution of Norfolk was handled horribly as well as the consequence it had on Elizabeth’s government. Mary of Scots and her supporter’s involvement in the various scandals were completely ignored. Norfolk personality in the movie was the opposite of what history denotes, and according to the film all was well in England after the death of Norfolk. The film does not say why Elizabeth adopted the Virgin Queen persona, and became the strong ruler that led England through the Golden Age.
With these numerous inaccuracies can this movie truly be used to represent history? Certain segments of this film can be used as an accurate depiction for the early life of Elizabeth. The film as a whole, however, is not useable for the teaching of history. The number of factual inaccuracies in this movie far out weigh the display of valid historical themes. Historical themes are partial created by accepted historical data. Themes can still be portrayed correctly with some facts out of place, but you cannot ignore history completely. This is what the movie Elizabeth does. It displays themes from Elizabeth’s early life, but uses so many inaccurate facts that it blurs the historical message it portrayed.
Bibliography
Budiansky, Stephen. Her Majesty’s Spymaster: Elizabeth I, Sir Francis Walsingham, and the
Birth of Modern Espionage. London: Penguin Books, 2005.
Harrison, G. B. The Letters of Queen Elizabeth I. Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1968.
Jenkins, Elizabeth. Elizabeth and Leicester. New York: Coward-McCann Inc., 1961.
Elizabeth. DVD. Directed by Shekhar Kapur. California: Universal Studios, 1998.
Morgan, Kenneth O. The Oxford History of Britain. New York: Oxford Press, 2001.
Plowden, Alison. The Young Elizabeth. New York: Stein and Day Publishers, 1971.
Plowden, Alison. Marriage with My Kingdom. New York: Stein and Day Publishers, 1977.
Read, Conyers. Lord Burghley and Queen Elizabeth. New York: Alden Press, 1960.
Ross, Joesphine. Suitors to the Queen: The Men in the Life of Elizabeth I of England. New York:
Coward, MacCann & Geoghegan Inc., 1975.
Williams, Neville. All the Queen’s Men: Elizabeth I and Her Courtiers. New York: The
MacMillan Company, 1972.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Man Power
Moral justification was rampant at the turn of the twentieth century. From muckrakers to government officials, public writers attempted to validate their position and ideas by employing vague yet up-lifting rhetoric. The context of the morals stressed was largely dependent on the author. This was clearly seen in the speeches of two United States presidents: Teddy Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson. Both these men were constantly using moral justification, but the tones of their respective messages were strikingly different. Teddy Roosevelt, the big game hunting Rough Rider, focused on powerful masculine morals. Woodrow Wilson, however, stressed honorable and religious morals that lacked the manliness of Roosevelt, but never the less indicated a higher ground; proper ways to act, think, and feel. Both these legendary men, despite the differences in moral tone, used this technique to push their respective agendas and win over the American people.
One of the most important features of moral justification was the overabundance of vague statements. Giving detailed complaints, or harassing a particular name or company, might leave some voters aggravated. This was especially relevant if someone had knowledge on the subject, or a relation to the party being criticized. To avoid this disconnection public writers used inclusionary phrases, metaphorical agents, and a number of other techniques used to draw in the reader and convince them that a particular position was the only “right” position. Teddy Roosevelt employed this throughout his career. Addressing the ideas of nationalism he stated, “In our day it appears as the struggle of free men to gain and hold the right of self-government as against the special interests, who twist the methods of free government into machinery for defeating the popular will.” Notice that Roosevelt failed to mention any particular individual or organization that fits the description of “special interest.” This non-identified agent easily became a sponge for negative signifiers like “defeating the popular will.” He also used the inclusionary phrase “free men” who were for “self-government” to relate to as many individuals as possible. These techniques allowed the reader to recall any particular grievance, and made it seem as if Roosevelt knew their troubles and wanted to fight for the average man.
Woodrow Wilson employed the same techniques as Roosevelt and other public writers of this era. In his first inaugural address Wilson described the “moral force” of America. “Nowhere else in the world have noble men and women exhibited in more striking forms the beauty and the energy of sympathy and helpfulness and counsel in their efforts to rectify wrong, alleviate suffering, and set the weak in the way of strength and hope.” Who would not want to be a part of this group? Would any individual want to side against sympathy and helpfulness? Of course not, and that was the precise reason for using this rhetoric. It gave the speaker a direct connection with the audience, and a monopoly over moral righteousness. Wilson continued on stating that, “Justice, and only justice, shall always be our motto.” , which further elevated his moral position. By the end of his speech one feels that to be an American was to support Wilson’s policies. This public support, however, seemed to have formed primarily from general ideals of good conquering evil, and not from particular political policies on conservation, tariffs, and big business.
In addition to containing vague statements, moral justification often had a particular tone based upon the speaker. Roosevelt illustrated his morals through masculinity. This consistent allusion was probably derived from his life experiences. Roosevelt was, for lack of a better term, a man’s man. He signed up for the war against Spain despite being over the age requirement, and performed heroic feats with his regiment nicknamed the Rough Riders. He went on big game hunts often, and was seen proudly displaying his athletic skill whenever the opportunity arose. This lifestyle was often illustrated in his speeches. Addressing his party at the Republican Convention in 1900 he stated, “The young giant of the West stands on a continent and clasps the crest of an ocean in either hand. Our nation, glorious in youth and strength, looks into the future with fearless and eager eyes, and rejoices as a strong man to run a race.” This description of the United States brought forth a powerful image. He mentioned that the nation “clasps the crest of an ocean” as if the body of water would have ceased to exist without America’s support. This power was then compared to a man “glorious in youth and strength” who was about to run a race. These masculine metaphors alluded to the idea that the nation could feel confident about the future because it was a vibrant imperial force. He further stated that the righteous thing to do would be to act upon this strong position. “We do not stand in craven mood, asking to be spared the task, cringing as we gaze on the contest.” The all male voters of America would probably agree with Roosevelt’s allusions especially after the recent military victory over Spain. By highlighting masculine morals throughout his speech, in addition to other vague rhetoric, Roosevelt could appeal to the voting populace. He would appear as a vibrant and powerful individual with an eye for a strong and prosperous future.
The tone of Woodrow Wilson’s speeches was dissimilar to Roosevelt’s and lacked a masculine influence. This was primarily because of differences in Wilson’s personal life. He grew up in Staunton, Virginia, and was the son of a Presbyterian minister. He did not regularly seek adventures, sports, and other “manly” activities like Roosevelt. Wilson had an extensive educational career, and was the president of Princeton before entering politics in 1910. His life experiences produced moralistic rhetoric laced with religious overtones that included specific notions of honor. In his second inaugural address he stated, “We are being forged into a new unity amidst the fires that now blaze throughout the world. In their ardent heat we shall, in God’s Providence, let us hope, be purged of faction and division, purified of the errant humors of party and of private interest, and shall stand forth in the days to come with a new dignity of national pride and spirit.” At this time America had already been involved with World War I for almost a year, and Wilson needed to assure the people that America would persevere. Roosevelt at a time of war would have employed masculine morals to unify the populace. Wilson, however, justified the sacrifices necessary by indicating a higher purpose. He accomplished this through combining religious rhetoric with nationalistic ideals, and indicating that these were necessary tools in order to succeed against the enemy. Religion and national pride were two concepts common to all Americans at this time, and were easily absorbed into the mass populace. Wilson used these instated morals from his life experiences to connect and motivate the people during a time of war.
Both Theodore Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson used moral justification to strengthen their bond with the American people, and further their respective agendas. They employed the same techniques as muckrakers and other public writers of the early twentieth century. General phrases, non-identifiable agents, inclusionary phrases, and more were used to enhance a particular position. The tone of their rhetoric, however, differed immensely. Roosevelt was fond of masculine allusions, and used them to connect to the voting male populace. Wilson, conversely, used religion and nationalism to instill a higher purpose in his policies that related with the masses on a different level. Despite the dissimilar tones, both these presidents were able to successful use moral justification for their policies and connected with the American people.
One of the most important features of moral justification was the overabundance of vague statements. Giving detailed complaints, or harassing a particular name or company, might leave some voters aggravated. This was especially relevant if someone had knowledge on the subject, or a relation to the party being criticized. To avoid this disconnection public writers used inclusionary phrases, metaphorical agents, and a number of other techniques used to draw in the reader and convince them that a particular position was the only “right” position. Teddy Roosevelt employed this throughout his career. Addressing the ideas of nationalism he stated, “In our day it appears as the struggle of free men to gain and hold the right of self-government as against the special interests, who twist the methods of free government into machinery for defeating the popular will.” Notice that Roosevelt failed to mention any particular individual or organization that fits the description of “special interest.” This non-identified agent easily became a sponge for negative signifiers like “defeating the popular will.” He also used the inclusionary phrase “free men” who were for “self-government” to relate to as many individuals as possible. These techniques allowed the reader to recall any particular grievance, and made it seem as if Roosevelt knew their troubles and wanted to fight for the average man.
Woodrow Wilson employed the same techniques as Roosevelt and other public writers of this era. In his first inaugural address Wilson described the “moral force” of America. “Nowhere else in the world have noble men and women exhibited in more striking forms the beauty and the energy of sympathy and helpfulness and counsel in their efforts to rectify wrong, alleviate suffering, and set the weak in the way of strength and hope.” Who would not want to be a part of this group? Would any individual want to side against sympathy and helpfulness? Of course not, and that was the precise reason for using this rhetoric. It gave the speaker a direct connection with the audience, and a monopoly over moral righteousness. Wilson continued on stating that, “Justice, and only justice, shall always be our motto.” , which further elevated his moral position. By the end of his speech one feels that to be an American was to support Wilson’s policies. This public support, however, seemed to have formed primarily from general ideals of good conquering evil, and not from particular political policies on conservation, tariffs, and big business.
In addition to containing vague statements, moral justification often had a particular tone based upon the speaker. Roosevelt illustrated his morals through masculinity. This consistent allusion was probably derived from his life experiences. Roosevelt was, for lack of a better term, a man’s man. He signed up for the war against Spain despite being over the age requirement, and performed heroic feats with his regiment nicknamed the Rough Riders. He went on big game hunts often, and was seen proudly displaying his athletic skill whenever the opportunity arose. This lifestyle was often illustrated in his speeches. Addressing his party at the Republican Convention in 1900 he stated, “The young giant of the West stands on a continent and clasps the crest of an ocean in either hand. Our nation, glorious in youth and strength, looks into the future with fearless and eager eyes, and rejoices as a strong man to run a race.” This description of the United States brought forth a powerful image. He mentioned that the nation “clasps the crest of an ocean” as if the body of water would have ceased to exist without America’s support. This power was then compared to a man “glorious in youth and strength” who was about to run a race. These masculine metaphors alluded to the idea that the nation could feel confident about the future because it was a vibrant imperial force. He further stated that the righteous thing to do would be to act upon this strong position. “We do not stand in craven mood, asking to be spared the task, cringing as we gaze on the contest.” The all male voters of America would probably agree with Roosevelt’s allusions especially after the recent military victory over Spain. By highlighting masculine morals throughout his speech, in addition to other vague rhetoric, Roosevelt could appeal to the voting populace. He would appear as a vibrant and powerful individual with an eye for a strong and prosperous future.
The tone of Woodrow Wilson’s speeches was dissimilar to Roosevelt’s and lacked a masculine influence. This was primarily because of differences in Wilson’s personal life. He grew up in Staunton, Virginia, and was the son of a Presbyterian minister. He did not regularly seek adventures, sports, and other “manly” activities like Roosevelt. Wilson had an extensive educational career, and was the president of Princeton before entering politics in 1910. His life experiences produced moralistic rhetoric laced with religious overtones that included specific notions of honor. In his second inaugural address he stated, “We are being forged into a new unity amidst the fires that now blaze throughout the world. In their ardent heat we shall, in God’s Providence, let us hope, be purged of faction and division, purified of the errant humors of party and of private interest, and shall stand forth in the days to come with a new dignity of national pride and spirit.” At this time America had already been involved with World War I for almost a year, and Wilson needed to assure the people that America would persevere. Roosevelt at a time of war would have employed masculine morals to unify the populace. Wilson, however, justified the sacrifices necessary by indicating a higher purpose. He accomplished this through combining religious rhetoric with nationalistic ideals, and indicating that these were necessary tools in order to succeed against the enemy. Religion and national pride were two concepts common to all Americans at this time, and were easily absorbed into the mass populace. Wilson used these instated morals from his life experiences to connect and motivate the people during a time of war.
Both Theodore Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson used moral justification to strengthen their bond with the American people, and further their respective agendas. They employed the same techniques as muckrakers and other public writers of the early twentieth century. General phrases, non-identifiable agents, inclusionary phrases, and more were used to enhance a particular position. The tone of their rhetoric, however, differed immensely. Roosevelt was fond of masculine allusions, and used them to connect to the voting male populace. Wilson, conversely, used religion and nationalism to instill a higher purpose in his policies that related with the masses on a different level. Despite the dissimilar tones, both these presidents were able to successful use moral justification for their policies and connected with the American people.
Question #2: Describe the changes in the New England economy from the seventeenth century to the eighteenth century and identify the main reasons for
Colonial New England constructed an economy from past commercial and religious experiences. The colonist’s Protestant faith emphasized frugality, industry, and aiding the commonwealth as the keys to eternal salvation. These three features of Puritanism greatly influenced New England’s economic policies, and were found in fiscal rhetoric throughout the colonial period. Puritan leaders were also familiar with a contemporary economic theory called balance of trade. This monetary policy attempted to stabilize a regions exports and imports by promoting production, diversification, and new industries. In the eighteenth century, this synergy of faith and fiscal policy would mature producing a vibrant economy ripe for future industrialization. The means to this end consisted of a variety of economic improvements, throughout the seventeenth century, that began shortly after the initial settlement of New England.
The privatization of land was the first step towards monetary expansion. Upon settlement, Puritans continued their age-old tradition of communal farming. The collectivist system had one track of land that was worked by the entire village, and families congregated their homes in a central location. The benefits of communal property were increased protection from hostile enemies, improved cohesion amongst settlers, and a greater concentration of resources. In New England this system failed to produce enough food for two years and the government reexamined their policies. Colonial leaders determined that instead of promoting strong community ties, the collectivist system produced slothfulness and hindered production. This conclusion inclined all New English colonies, by the early 1640’s, to authorize private ownership of land.
At first this new system proved economically sound, and reinforced Puritan ideals of industry and frugality. It later denoted a contradictory situation in colonial New England. The motivation of personal profit did result in a greater agricultural output, and appeased the colonies religious ideals of hard work. More Puritans were improving their land to maximize its potential, and this produced some economic growth. At the same time, however, the high profitability of agriculture encouraged former artisans and sailors to abandon their careers. This farm migration drained New England of a diversified skilled labor force, and hindered overall expansion. By privatizing land, the Puritans took care of their short-term need in food production, and unintentionally mired their foundation for later economic development.
In addition to land reform, the colonial government tried to monopolize trade and control wages during the 1630’s. The General Court passed laws granting nine merchants the control of all imports, and funneled all trade through a central clearinghouse in Boston. This was an attempt to control the amount of imports into the colony and improve the balance of trade. This legislation, however, was unpractical and unenforceable. Settlers would row out to commercial ships to avoid these regulations, which proved to be an inefficient way of conducting trade. Colonial assemblies also attempted to control the wages of skilled laborers. The high market demand for artisans, however, nullified any attempt to implement this policy. Thus, it was not unheard of for a blacksmith or carpenter to receive a shilling above the set wages. The utter failure of these trade and wage control laws prompted New England to change their economic policies from restrictive to promotional after the end of the Great Migration.
The Great Migration was a massive influx of Puritan immigrants to New England from 1630-1640. The new arrivals would often buy goods from established colonists, which became a vital source of capital. When the migration ended a depression ensued. English merchants stopped extending credit, and the supply of specie and imported goods dwindled. In response to this crisis, local governments created various programs rewarding incentives to private individuals performing projects beneficial to the colony. Ideally these regulations were supposed to promote domestic manufacturing, and advance the colonies balance of trade through import substitution. Although certain industries like lumber, ship construction, and iron refineries came into production, wide scale domestic manufacturing did not occur. The high start up costs, lack of labor, and the logistical challenges posed by the American frontier hindered their development. Instead the majority colonists discovered a niche in the Atlantic Trade as carriers of trade and suppliers of wheat, corn, and livestock to plantations. The development of a cash crop economy in the South and Caribbean neglected growing basic provisions, which New English farmers gladly provided. This trade monopoly relieved the pressure for import-substitution manufactures, and—along with governmental incentives—helped New England escape the depression associated with the Great Migration.
By the eighteenth century, New English farm products—especially wheat—were losing there market share in the Atlantic Trade. The Middle colonies had better agricultural potential, and New England could not compete with this advantage. In addition, costly imperial wars had increased taxes in the colony, and created a new populace of poor veterans. Once again, colonial leaders turned too domestic manufacturing and diversification as the answer to their economic woes, and this time they had more success. Entrepreneurial merchants had by now developed the interior of the colony, and this helped levitate the start up costs of various industries. This process started in the seventeenth century, as frontier traders attempted to facilitate movement between the interior and the cost. By the eighteenth century, New England had a huge network of merchant’s traders connecting the various settlements of the colony. This infrastructure allowed farmers—via the putting-out system—and artisans to profit from domestic production because their goods could reach larger markets. It also encouraged the development of larger industries like iron refineries and rum distillers. These production centers increased employment, and decreased the economic strain of the poor. Colonial producers also diversified, in agriculture and manufacturing, their products to a greater degree. Instead of growing wheat, farmers grew specialized crops like onions, raised livestock, and generated dairy products. In addition to traditional textile and lumber industries, New England manufactured leather, potash, whale oil, metal products and more. This wide range of goods helped facilitate domestic trade during the eighteenth century, and this supplemented revenue that was lost in international markets to competition.
Upon arrival to the New World, the Puritans constructed their society through religion and traditional economic ideology. They created strict fiscal regulations that controlled almost all aspects of trade in hopes of producing a frugal and industrious atmosphere that was beneficial to the entire commonwealth. These policies, however, where unable to stimulate the economy when the wave of immigrants associated with the Great Migration slowed after 1640. In response to this depression New England’s economy evolved, and local governments adopted fiscal policies to facilitate development. They presented new ideas through Puritan rhetoric that emphasized industry, productivity, and the common good. These liberal policies created a strong infrastructure and diversified the economy, which propelled New England to a key position of the Atlantic Trade. As the seventeenth century came to a close the Middle colonies increased competition for New English products. In the eighteenth century this economic rivalry, combined with increased imperial taxes, forced New England to adapt again. This time they increased their domestic industries and focused on specialty crops to improve their fiscal situation. New England’s constant evaluation and evolution of the economy would inevitably prove beneficial. On the eve of the American Revolution, New England experienced a diversified prosperous economy primed to explode during nineteenth century industrialization.
The privatization of land was the first step towards monetary expansion. Upon settlement, Puritans continued their age-old tradition of communal farming. The collectivist system had one track of land that was worked by the entire village, and families congregated their homes in a central location. The benefits of communal property were increased protection from hostile enemies, improved cohesion amongst settlers, and a greater concentration of resources. In New England this system failed to produce enough food for two years and the government reexamined their policies. Colonial leaders determined that instead of promoting strong community ties, the collectivist system produced slothfulness and hindered production. This conclusion inclined all New English colonies, by the early 1640’s, to authorize private ownership of land.
At first this new system proved economically sound, and reinforced Puritan ideals of industry and frugality. It later denoted a contradictory situation in colonial New England. The motivation of personal profit did result in a greater agricultural output, and appeased the colonies religious ideals of hard work. More Puritans were improving their land to maximize its potential, and this produced some economic growth. At the same time, however, the high profitability of agriculture encouraged former artisans and sailors to abandon their careers. This farm migration drained New England of a diversified skilled labor force, and hindered overall expansion. By privatizing land, the Puritans took care of their short-term need in food production, and unintentionally mired their foundation for later economic development.
In addition to land reform, the colonial government tried to monopolize trade and control wages during the 1630’s. The General Court passed laws granting nine merchants the control of all imports, and funneled all trade through a central clearinghouse in Boston. This was an attempt to control the amount of imports into the colony and improve the balance of trade. This legislation, however, was unpractical and unenforceable. Settlers would row out to commercial ships to avoid these regulations, which proved to be an inefficient way of conducting trade. Colonial assemblies also attempted to control the wages of skilled laborers. The high market demand for artisans, however, nullified any attempt to implement this policy. Thus, it was not unheard of for a blacksmith or carpenter to receive a shilling above the set wages. The utter failure of these trade and wage control laws prompted New England to change their economic policies from restrictive to promotional after the end of the Great Migration.
The Great Migration was a massive influx of Puritan immigrants to New England from 1630-1640. The new arrivals would often buy goods from established colonists, which became a vital source of capital. When the migration ended a depression ensued. English merchants stopped extending credit, and the supply of specie and imported goods dwindled. In response to this crisis, local governments created various programs rewarding incentives to private individuals performing projects beneficial to the colony. Ideally these regulations were supposed to promote domestic manufacturing, and advance the colonies balance of trade through import substitution. Although certain industries like lumber, ship construction, and iron refineries came into production, wide scale domestic manufacturing did not occur. The high start up costs, lack of labor, and the logistical challenges posed by the American frontier hindered their development. Instead the majority colonists discovered a niche in the Atlantic Trade as carriers of trade and suppliers of wheat, corn, and livestock to plantations. The development of a cash crop economy in the South and Caribbean neglected growing basic provisions, which New English farmers gladly provided. This trade monopoly relieved the pressure for import-substitution manufactures, and—along with governmental incentives—helped New England escape the depression associated with the Great Migration.
By the eighteenth century, New English farm products—especially wheat—were losing there market share in the Atlantic Trade. The Middle colonies had better agricultural potential, and New England could not compete with this advantage. In addition, costly imperial wars had increased taxes in the colony, and created a new populace of poor veterans. Once again, colonial leaders turned too domestic manufacturing and diversification as the answer to their economic woes, and this time they had more success. Entrepreneurial merchants had by now developed the interior of the colony, and this helped levitate the start up costs of various industries. This process started in the seventeenth century, as frontier traders attempted to facilitate movement between the interior and the cost. By the eighteenth century, New England had a huge network of merchant’s traders connecting the various settlements of the colony. This infrastructure allowed farmers—via the putting-out system—and artisans to profit from domestic production because their goods could reach larger markets. It also encouraged the development of larger industries like iron refineries and rum distillers. These production centers increased employment, and decreased the economic strain of the poor. Colonial producers also diversified, in agriculture and manufacturing, their products to a greater degree. Instead of growing wheat, farmers grew specialized crops like onions, raised livestock, and generated dairy products. In addition to traditional textile and lumber industries, New England manufactured leather, potash, whale oil, metal products and more. This wide range of goods helped facilitate domestic trade during the eighteenth century, and this supplemented revenue that was lost in international markets to competition.
Upon arrival to the New World, the Puritans constructed their society through religion and traditional economic ideology. They created strict fiscal regulations that controlled almost all aspects of trade in hopes of producing a frugal and industrious atmosphere that was beneficial to the entire commonwealth. These policies, however, where unable to stimulate the economy when the wave of immigrants associated with the Great Migration slowed after 1640. In response to this depression New England’s economy evolved, and local governments adopted fiscal policies to facilitate development. They presented new ideas through Puritan rhetoric that emphasized industry, productivity, and the common good. These liberal policies created a strong infrastructure and diversified the economy, which propelled New England to a key position of the Atlantic Trade. As the seventeenth century came to a close the Middle colonies increased competition for New English products. In the eighteenth century this economic rivalry, combined with increased imperial taxes, forced New England to adapt again. This time they increased their domestic industries and focused on specialty crops to improve their fiscal situation. New England’s constant evaluation and evolution of the economy would inevitably prove beneficial. On the eve of the American Revolution, New England experienced a diversified prosperous economy primed to explode during nineteenth century industrialization.
Question #1: Describe the seven occupational groups, their standard of living, and their relative position in the hierarchy of colonial society.
In today’s modern world aspiring individuals can pursue a plethora of occupations. American jobs range from menial tasks like house cleaning, to high tech positions that require years of education and training. There are thousands of carriers that fall in between these two extremes: plumber, factory worker, auto salesman, insurance agent, actor, clerk, teacher, computer programmer, and much more. America, however, did not start out with this wide array of occupations. During the first centuries of Colonial America, settlers were family farmers, southern planters, indentured servants, slaves, un-skilled laborers, artisans, or merchants. All of these positions where predominantly held by men as women often took a secondary supportive role to their husbands. These seven occupational groups each produced various levels of prosperity, and carried their own social position within colonial America.
For centuries, the greater part of settlers turned to agriculture for their livelihood. About ¾ of the population where family farmers, and the majority owned the land they tilled. A small percentage of these individuals rented property. This was especially true during the eighteenth century in northern colonies like New York and Pennsylvania. Widespread land ownership helped produce relatively decent levels of wealth, by European standards, throughout the colonial region. It also gave farmers a political voice through their votes in local elections. The average farm was about one hundred acres in size, and annually provided a surplus of products to be sold on the open market. To help supplement agricultural revenue, and keep busy during the off-months, many family farms also produced manufactured goods. The value and volume of these surpluses varied with a regions agriculture potential, product demand, relative distance from commercial centers, and availability of transportation. The combined income of agriculture and home production gave most farmers modest purchasing power. In general the middle and southern colonial farms where more prosperous than their northern counterparts. Despite this trend, the majority of colonial farmers were able to support their current family, generate wealth, and provide for future generations.
The relative prosperity of the family farm is dwarfed in comparison to the great southern planters. This elite class came into existence through the production of three cash crops—tobacco, rice, and indigo. These valuable products were in great demand in Europe, and were grown on massive plantations using bounded workers. At first European and African indentured servants were used, but this eventually evolved into a system of racially based slave labor. The planter class lived predominately near major waterways in huge brick mansions, consisting of multiple rooms and floors. Free from daily labor, plantation owners had more leisure time to dedicate to various projects. They invested in extravagant luxuries, pursued a higher education, hosted elaborate banquets, and considered themselves the social equals of European aristocrats. Southern planters also had a dominant role in politics, exercising greater influence on government policies than family farmers, indentured servants, un-skilled laborers, and of course slaves. This combination of extreme wealth and authority propelled the planter class into the upper echelons of colonial society.
Before exploiting African slaves, southern planters used indentured servants to labor on their plantations. Indentured servants where contracted laborers that gave up their freedom for a certain amount of time in exchange for passage to the New World, and the basic necessities for starting their own farm upon completion of their contract. This labor system offered better job opportunities to desperate individuals stuck in perpetual poverty in England. Indentured servants were the property of whoever bought their contract, and the degree of freedom allowed was contingent upon the master. The possibility of acquiring freedom from bonded servitude puts indentured servants just above slaves and below unskilled laborers in the colony’s social hierarchy. Those fortunate enough to survive their term would see their social status rise to un-skilled laborer, family farmer, artisan, or occasionally—during the first decades of settlement—southern planter. Both white Europeans and black Africans were indentured servants in the early seventeenth century, and both could earn their freedom upon completion of their contract. By the mid 1600s, however, Africans became less and less likely to earn their sovereignty as the planter class created legislation dooming them to a life of chattel slavery.
Comprising the second largest labor group in the colonies, but unable to reap any benefits from their contribution, African slaves represented the very bottom of colonial society. The majority of slaves worked in agriculture, but a small percentage consisted of domestic servants and skilled laborers. Slaves had as much political and economical freedoms as their master would allow—usually none. They predominantly lived in extreme poverty with dilapidated shelters, little clothing, and poor diets. Exceptions to the norm did exist, and Charleston, South Carolina, is a great example of slaves exercising a degree of autonomy. The white planters of this region would often leave during the extreme heat and humidity of summer. In their absences, slaves would be given increased freedom by being encouraged to hire out their labor to third parties. This would generate small amounts of income to purchase various goods and services, which slightly increased a slave’s standard of living. This system, however, was only seen in the urban environment of Charleston and does not apply to the overwhelmingly harsh life of most colonial slaves. The vast majority of Africans had no hope of increasing their standard of living. They were bonded laborers for life experiencing all of the hardships of colonial existence with no compensation beyond shelter, clothing, and food.
If a slave was imported to America, than it was probably delivered on a merchant’s ship. The primary function of a merchant was to transport commodities from point A to point B. This encompassed a huge network of traders from the deep interior of the American continent to the colony’s port cities and international markets. The lifeblood of this system was credit based on land and/or intangible products expected to come into possession in the near future. Credit facilitated the movement of merchandise because it allowed trade to occur in the absence of hard currency. The colonial trade system primarily consisted of two kinds of merchants—urban and rural. Urban merchants were heavily involved in international trade, and preferred the role of wholesaler to retailer. They primarily lived in port cities, and accumulated larges amounts of wealth. They illustrated their financial success with large brick homes and the consumption various fine luxuries. Urban merchants also had a disproportionate voice in political affairs, similar to the southern planters, because foreign trade was seen as vital to the colonial economy. In contrast, local merchants focused on selling to the final consumer by setting up storefronts in small towns and outposts across the American frontier. Although their political power and overall standard of living was less than urban merchants, local merchants provided a huge service to the colony by acting as middlemen between the American frontier and the coast.
Artisans were one of the primary benefactors of local merchants because they facilitated the distribution of their various products. Artisans were classified as skilled laborers that made over half of their income form non-agricultural activities. This occupational label references low-paying textile producers, carpenters and metal workers of middling income, and the manufacturing elites—millers, tanners, silversmiths, and clockmakers. Due to the high demand for skilled labor, almost all artisans prospered throughout colonial America. A successful artisan was a self-employed craftsman that owned his own means of production. They either worked from home, or in a small shop that would double as a storefront. They might also cultivate some land for personal consumption. Property was usually owned outright by most artisans, which allowed them to vote in provincial elections. They also played a more active role in politics than most other professions, but overall influence was negligible compared to the merchant and planter elites. Artisans living in rural setting were classified below family farmers in the colony’s social hierarchy because they did not own as much land—the ultimate source of wealth. These frontier craftsmen would rely on their own merchandise, a small farm, and wages from seasonal employment to make a living. In urban centers, however, artisans had access to more lucrative markets, and held a middling position in society between the merchant elite and independent farmer.
The lowest occupation, for free white males, in colonial America consisted of seaman and property-less day laborers. These un-skilled workers suffered through seasonal unemployment, and often lacked a permanent place of residence. The majority of property-less laborers would find work during harvest time when independent farmers hired additional help. This was widely practiced in New English and Middle colonies, but slavery prevented it from taking hold in the South. Sailors found employment through a variety of shipping expeditions, but the majority worked during the cod fishing season. Besides fishing and farming, un-skilled laborers would find various menial jobs to generate the basic necessities of life. When this failed individuals would seek out poor houses, and other forms of public relief. The only thing that separated this occupational group from indentured servants and slaves was their free status. Despite their compatible standard of living bonded servants are still considered property, and this elevates un-skilled laborers position in the social hierarchy of colonial America.
All seven of these occupations—merchant, southern planter, artisan, farmer, un-skilled laborer, indentured servant, and slave—defined a persons place in colonial society. The vast majorities of the colonist were in the middle of this hierarchy as independent farmers. A privilege few found employment at the top as a merchant, southern planter, or artisans. This minority held the greatest percentage of wealth in early America, and played a dominant role in colonial politics. The bottom of society consisted of un-skilled laborers, indentured servants, and slaves. These classes had little to no economical or political benefits, and could only be distinguished through their different degrees of freedom. Together these seven occupational classes formed the vibrant and strong colonial economy that rivaled most seventeenth century European nations in economic prosperity.
For centuries, the greater part of settlers turned to agriculture for their livelihood. About ¾ of the population where family farmers, and the majority owned the land they tilled. A small percentage of these individuals rented property. This was especially true during the eighteenth century in northern colonies like New York and Pennsylvania. Widespread land ownership helped produce relatively decent levels of wealth, by European standards, throughout the colonial region. It also gave farmers a political voice through their votes in local elections. The average farm was about one hundred acres in size, and annually provided a surplus of products to be sold on the open market. To help supplement agricultural revenue, and keep busy during the off-months, many family farms also produced manufactured goods. The value and volume of these surpluses varied with a regions agriculture potential, product demand, relative distance from commercial centers, and availability of transportation. The combined income of agriculture and home production gave most farmers modest purchasing power. In general the middle and southern colonial farms where more prosperous than their northern counterparts. Despite this trend, the majority of colonial farmers were able to support their current family, generate wealth, and provide for future generations.
The relative prosperity of the family farm is dwarfed in comparison to the great southern planters. This elite class came into existence through the production of three cash crops—tobacco, rice, and indigo. These valuable products were in great demand in Europe, and were grown on massive plantations using bounded workers. At first European and African indentured servants were used, but this eventually evolved into a system of racially based slave labor. The planter class lived predominately near major waterways in huge brick mansions, consisting of multiple rooms and floors. Free from daily labor, plantation owners had more leisure time to dedicate to various projects. They invested in extravagant luxuries, pursued a higher education, hosted elaborate banquets, and considered themselves the social equals of European aristocrats. Southern planters also had a dominant role in politics, exercising greater influence on government policies than family farmers, indentured servants, un-skilled laborers, and of course slaves. This combination of extreme wealth and authority propelled the planter class into the upper echelons of colonial society.
Before exploiting African slaves, southern planters used indentured servants to labor on their plantations. Indentured servants where contracted laborers that gave up their freedom for a certain amount of time in exchange for passage to the New World, and the basic necessities for starting their own farm upon completion of their contract. This labor system offered better job opportunities to desperate individuals stuck in perpetual poverty in England. Indentured servants were the property of whoever bought their contract, and the degree of freedom allowed was contingent upon the master. The possibility of acquiring freedom from bonded servitude puts indentured servants just above slaves and below unskilled laborers in the colony’s social hierarchy. Those fortunate enough to survive their term would see their social status rise to un-skilled laborer, family farmer, artisan, or occasionally—during the first decades of settlement—southern planter. Both white Europeans and black Africans were indentured servants in the early seventeenth century, and both could earn their freedom upon completion of their contract. By the mid 1600s, however, Africans became less and less likely to earn their sovereignty as the planter class created legislation dooming them to a life of chattel slavery.
Comprising the second largest labor group in the colonies, but unable to reap any benefits from their contribution, African slaves represented the very bottom of colonial society. The majority of slaves worked in agriculture, but a small percentage consisted of domestic servants and skilled laborers. Slaves had as much political and economical freedoms as their master would allow—usually none. They predominantly lived in extreme poverty with dilapidated shelters, little clothing, and poor diets. Exceptions to the norm did exist, and Charleston, South Carolina, is a great example of slaves exercising a degree of autonomy. The white planters of this region would often leave during the extreme heat and humidity of summer. In their absences, slaves would be given increased freedom by being encouraged to hire out their labor to third parties. This would generate small amounts of income to purchase various goods and services, which slightly increased a slave’s standard of living. This system, however, was only seen in the urban environment of Charleston and does not apply to the overwhelmingly harsh life of most colonial slaves. The vast majority of Africans had no hope of increasing their standard of living. They were bonded laborers for life experiencing all of the hardships of colonial existence with no compensation beyond shelter, clothing, and food.
If a slave was imported to America, than it was probably delivered on a merchant’s ship. The primary function of a merchant was to transport commodities from point A to point B. This encompassed a huge network of traders from the deep interior of the American continent to the colony’s port cities and international markets. The lifeblood of this system was credit based on land and/or intangible products expected to come into possession in the near future. Credit facilitated the movement of merchandise because it allowed trade to occur in the absence of hard currency. The colonial trade system primarily consisted of two kinds of merchants—urban and rural. Urban merchants were heavily involved in international trade, and preferred the role of wholesaler to retailer. They primarily lived in port cities, and accumulated larges amounts of wealth. They illustrated their financial success with large brick homes and the consumption various fine luxuries. Urban merchants also had a disproportionate voice in political affairs, similar to the southern planters, because foreign trade was seen as vital to the colonial economy. In contrast, local merchants focused on selling to the final consumer by setting up storefronts in small towns and outposts across the American frontier. Although their political power and overall standard of living was less than urban merchants, local merchants provided a huge service to the colony by acting as middlemen between the American frontier and the coast.
Artisans were one of the primary benefactors of local merchants because they facilitated the distribution of their various products. Artisans were classified as skilled laborers that made over half of their income form non-agricultural activities. This occupational label references low-paying textile producers, carpenters and metal workers of middling income, and the manufacturing elites—millers, tanners, silversmiths, and clockmakers. Due to the high demand for skilled labor, almost all artisans prospered throughout colonial America. A successful artisan was a self-employed craftsman that owned his own means of production. They either worked from home, or in a small shop that would double as a storefront. They might also cultivate some land for personal consumption. Property was usually owned outright by most artisans, which allowed them to vote in provincial elections. They also played a more active role in politics than most other professions, but overall influence was negligible compared to the merchant and planter elites. Artisans living in rural setting were classified below family farmers in the colony’s social hierarchy because they did not own as much land—the ultimate source of wealth. These frontier craftsmen would rely on their own merchandise, a small farm, and wages from seasonal employment to make a living. In urban centers, however, artisans had access to more lucrative markets, and held a middling position in society between the merchant elite and independent farmer.
The lowest occupation, for free white males, in colonial America consisted of seaman and property-less day laborers. These un-skilled workers suffered through seasonal unemployment, and often lacked a permanent place of residence. The majority of property-less laborers would find work during harvest time when independent farmers hired additional help. This was widely practiced in New English and Middle colonies, but slavery prevented it from taking hold in the South. Sailors found employment through a variety of shipping expeditions, but the majority worked during the cod fishing season. Besides fishing and farming, un-skilled laborers would find various menial jobs to generate the basic necessities of life. When this failed individuals would seek out poor houses, and other forms of public relief. The only thing that separated this occupational group from indentured servants and slaves was their free status. Despite their compatible standard of living bonded servants are still considered property, and this elevates un-skilled laborers position in the social hierarchy of colonial America.
All seven of these occupations—merchant, southern planter, artisan, farmer, un-skilled laborer, indentured servant, and slave—defined a persons place in colonial society. The vast majorities of the colonist were in the middle of this hierarchy as independent farmers. A privilege few found employment at the top as a merchant, southern planter, or artisans. This minority held the greatest percentage of wealth in early America, and played a dominant role in colonial politics. The bottom of society consisted of un-skilled laborers, indentured servants, and slaves. These classes had little to no economical or political benefits, and could only be distinguished through their different degrees of freedom. Together these seven occupational classes formed the vibrant and strong colonial economy that rivaled most seventeenth century European nations in economic prosperity.
El Norte-The Spanish and Mexican North
At the Autry National Center: Museum of the American West, there is an experimental exhibition called Encounters: El Norte-The Spanish and Mexican North. The exhibits goal is to illustrate the early world of California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas during the Spanish and Mexican occupation. The art and artifacts of the period are complemented with several interactive elements adding to the overall affect. The choices of the curator enhance and hinder the story of El Norte.
During the late 18th century, King Carlos III of Spain creates the Bourbon Reforms. The edict has a number of laws to better manage the New World, including the creation of the Interior Province. This territory consists of modern California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. In this paper the Interior Province will simply be called El Norte.
The Bourbon Reforms is a logical place to begin a discussion about El Norte, but the creators of Encounters think otherwise. At the beginning of the exhibit there is a brief video about Cortés and his encounters with the Aztecs. The video discusses the first impressions Europeans have of Indians, and the conquest of the Aztecs. It also establishes the prejudice of the white man, and foreshadows the mistreatment of the Indian.
This is a reminder to all that El Norte means the north, not the south. Cortés first contact occurs on the Gulf coast of Mexico. This is miles south of the focal point for the exhibit. To establish setting, make the introduction about the Bourbon Reforms. These laws separate Mexico from its Interior Provinces giving the modern day observer a clear geographical distinction. It also establishes the ruler of the territory, and demonstrates some of the problems of early Spanish authority. The law increases the amount of troops sent over the Atlantic, indicating a need for protection. This need illustrates the fact that Spain did not conquer the New World with the snap of a finger. The formation of the Interior Province and the increases in troops also indicates a solid interest in El Norte, thus making the Bourbon Reforms a more relevant introduction to this exhibit.
A good follow up to the introduction would be a short video about the explorers who first came to El Norte. This video would highlight the key features of first contact for explorers like De Soto, Cabrillo, and Manila, with the Indians. It is interesting how the exhibit talks of Spanish explorers who “wandered Texas and New Mexico, just 50 years after Columbus,” without mentioning the names or deeds of these explorers. Instead the curator talks about Cortés, and compares all Indians to the Aztecs. The Indians of El Norte differ greatly from the highly organized, warlike, urban society of the Aztecs. “The great majority of California groups practice a subsistence economy based on the hunting and gathering of naturally occurring foods and materials.” (Rice et al. 34). They did not form large urban capitals like Tenochtitlan, and they did not practice war, religion, or trade on the same scale as the Aztecs (Haynes).
Once one is past the film, the exhibit gets better. On the ground is a giant time-line stretching across the room. It spans across the discovery of the New World to the beginning of American rule, highlighting the events relevant to El Norte. On either side of the time line are giant sheets of fabric that divide the exhibition in two. On the left are artifacts from Spanish rule, and examples of the average family lifestyle. On the right are relics demonstrating El Norte during the time of Mexican and American rule.
The section about Spanish rule is rather dull. A giant portrait of some nobleman, various armor and weapons, and a small statement about the missions represents the period. The exhibit seems to emphasize the weapons and the elite portrait more than the missions. The painting took up an entire wall, and the military hardware is spread out in multiple display cases. In contrast the curator crams as much information, about the missions, as could fit on a couple of small columns off to the side. The numbers tell the tale. The missions start in 1738, with an Indian population of 300,000. By the time of Mexican Independence in 1821, the Indian population is 100,000. The tiny section mentions very little about Junipero Serra, and the abuses of the Indians. There is also a picture showing captured Indian fugitives. Technically all aspects of the missions system are covered. However, the impact of the missions is understated by the space devoted to them. An observer passing by could easily miss this information. Even if there are no large relics like the elite portrait or battle armor, a combination of items could be made to denote the deep impact the missions have in El Norte.
History is so often about the lives of the few elite, and rarely includes aspects of the average man or woman. This exhibit does an excellent job avoiding this cliché by including the interactive 19th century New Mexican home. The portrayal is truly an amazing thing. Not only does the exhibit allow one to see the items, but one can touch them too. The ability to sit in a chair and feel a piece of cloth enhances the experiences beyond anything else. One could almost smell the beans and tortillas cooking in the corner oven. This by far is one of the most exciting sections of the exhibit.
Another example depicting the lives of the average citizen is the impressive display of retablos (saint paintings) and bultos (saint sculptures). These images are made to supplement for the lack of holy relics from Spain. The shortage of supplies is on account of many factors. The two biggest reasons are the location of the colonies and trade restrictions imposed by Spain. There are two ways to supply the northern territories by land and by sea. Going by land is ill-advised do to uncharted routes and hostile natives. The sea is preferable because it is cheaper and the paths are well documented. However, the ocean voyage takes months and there are often delays do to pirates and bad weather. Also, Spain does not allow trade with foreign nations. Business with foreigners does occur, but not to a high degree. The trade restriction combined with the location makes manufactured goods very rare and valuable, thus the church cannot satisfy the great demand for holy relics. To solve this problem, the people of El Norte make their own saint paintings and sculptures. Retablos and bultos develop into their own unique art style by the time of Mexican Independence, and many are displayed in the museum.
Becoming a sovereign nation creates many problems for Mexico. These troubles spill over into El Norte, and as a result the territory is only under Mexican control for about three decades. The independence from Spain allows trade with foreign nations, and the new government secularizes the mission system making way for the rancheros. However, Mexico is plagued with internal struggles, which undermines its control of the nation. The lack of Mexican authority creates a distinct and diverse culture in El Norte.
In the following section of the exhibit, the curator uses California to represent most of El Norte. They do mention Texas and New Mexico, but only once or twice. This leads to the false assumption that all of El Norte is like California. Texas, for example, is a major part of the cotton south. This means there are slaves in Texas as well as rancheros and Indians. The cash crop also gives people addition employment options other than cattle. Texas is like a hybrid of the American West and South; part cattle country, part slave state.
California is no hybrid. It’s all about the hide and tallow trade. Californios (white natives) own huge rancheros that employ vaqueros (Indian cowboys) in order to satisfy the demand for raw materials. “Huge” may be an understatement in describing the enormous properties. In 1841, Santa Marguerita granted Pio and Andres Pico 130,000 acres of ranchland in modern day Camp Pendleton. These vast holdings are perfect for raising cattle to produce hide and tallow. The hides could be used for machine belts in Boston, and the tallow is made into candles for miners in South America. These are not the only uses for hide and tallow, and many Californios become wealthy. The hides were valued at “two dollars in money” according to Richard Dana, and by 1848 about 6 million hides and 7,000 tons of tallow are exported.
California is a good representation of El Norte up to a point. The hide and tallow trade is similar throughout El Norte. However, there are a few more discrepancies that need to be made involving the Mexican-American War. The museum exhibit displays the cause of the war as being a border dispute between two countries in Texas. America wants the border at the Rio Grande, and Mexico believes it should be at the Rio Nueces. Hostilities follow and the United States ends up defeating Mexico, conquering El Norte in the process. This is the information presented, but certain key events are omitted. Little is revealed about the Bear Flag Revolt, and the antics of John C. Fremont. New Mexico must have had a brief part in the war, for they are barely even mentioned. Another key distinction is Texas and New Mexico experience different kinds of population increases than California. Texas and New Mexico are not as isolated from the eastern United States and receives a fairly constant flow of trade and settlers. Land was fertile and cheap so there was an initial population boom, but nothing compared to the California gold rush. There were no “instant cities” like San Francisco in Texas or New Mexico. The curator should have represented these differences in order to make a clear picture of the diversity in El Norte before and after the Mexican-American War.
The exhibit ends by displaying the fall of rancheros in California. There are many examples of property changes, Indian abuses, and other affects of the Gold Rush population boom. The Indian situation does not change when the United States takes over El Norte. During the mid 19th century, $100 bonds are offered for killing Indians. This did not bother the white man, for many during this period believe that the only good Indian is a dead one. “Extermination is no longer a question of the time-the time has arrived, the work has commenced, and let the first man that says treaty or peace be regarded as a traitor” (Yreka Herald 1853). The curator does a fantastic job here of illustrating the doomed fate of the Indian. I wish he or she would have put the same effort into describing the Indians plight during the time of the missions.
Californios are better off than the Indians, but not by much. They have to verify their ranches to the United States government in order to keep their land. The United States congress passes the Land Act of 1851, which “created a three-member commission to review titles, requited claimants to present their cases within two years, and allowed appeals to courts by both claimants and the government.” Out of 813 claimants 512 confirmed their title (Rice et al. 219). Ironically, many rancheros have to sell parts of their land to pay for the court costs to save their property. The less fortunate rancheros fell victim to squatters, farmers, and other types of American settlers. Some, like Pio Pico, are able to sell their land for profit. Pico uses the money to buy a luxury hotel in Los Angeles, and lives a successful life. By the end of the century the great ranchero system is sold out to American settlers.
Leaving the Encounters exhibit one has a new appreciation for El Norte. However, this appreciation is better reached through outside knowledge of the subject matter. Additional information is needed for the early Spanish missions, and the latter diversity between California and the rest of El Norte. This exhibit focus on California is well warranted, but overused. It is hard to believe that the rest of El Norte was like California, especially Texas. By adding the material mentioned, and removing some of the less relevant items the curator could create a clearer picture of El Norte.
Works Cited
Encounters: El Norte-The Spanish and Mexican North. Autry National Center: Museum
of the American West, 2004..
Haynes. A History of Latin America: Ancient America to 1910. Boston: Houghton
Mifflin, 2000.
Rice, Bullough, and Orsi. The Elusive Eden. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill, 2002.
During the late 18th century, King Carlos III of Spain creates the Bourbon Reforms. The edict has a number of laws to better manage the New World, including the creation of the Interior Province. This territory consists of modern California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. In this paper the Interior Province will simply be called El Norte.
The Bourbon Reforms is a logical place to begin a discussion about El Norte, but the creators of Encounters think otherwise. At the beginning of the exhibit there is a brief video about Cortés and his encounters with the Aztecs. The video discusses the first impressions Europeans have of Indians, and the conquest of the Aztecs. It also establishes the prejudice of the white man, and foreshadows the mistreatment of the Indian.
This is a reminder to all that El Norte means the north, not the south. Cortés first contact occurs on the Gulf coast of Mexico. This is miles south of the focal point for the exhibit. To establish setting, make the introduction about the Bourbon Reforms. These laws separate Mexico from its Interior Provinces giving the modern day observer a clear geographical distinction. It also establishes the ruler of the territory, and demonstrates some of the problems of early Spanish authority. The law increases the amount of troops sent over the Atlantic, indicating a need for protection. This need illustrates the fact that Spain did not conquer the New World with the snap of a finger. The formation of the Interior Province and the increases in troops also indicates a solid interest in El Norte, thus making the Bourbon Reforms a more relevant introduction to this exhibit.
A good follow up to the introduction would be a short video about the explorers who first came to El Norte. This video would highlight the key features of first contact for explorers like De Soto, Cabrillo, and Manila, with the Indians. It is interesting how the exhibit talks of Spanish explorers who “wandered Texas and New Mexico, just 50 years after Columbus,” without mentioning the names or deeds of these explorers. Instead the curator talks about Cortés, and compares all Indians to the Aztecs. The Indians of El Norte differ greatly from the highly organized, warlike, urban society of the Aztecs. “The great majority of California groups practice a subsistence economy based on the hunting and gathering of naturally occurring foods and materials.” (Rice et al. 34). They did not form large urban capitals like Tenochtitlan, and they did not practice war, religion, or trade on the same scale as the Aztecs (Haynes).
Once one is past the film, the exhibit gets better. On the ground is a giant time-line stretching across the room. It spans across the discovery of the New World to the beginning of American rule, highlighting the events relevant to El Norte. On either side of the time line are giant sheets of fabric that divide the exhibition in two. On the left are artifacts from Spanish rule, and examples of the average family lifestyle. On the right are relics demonstrating El Norte during the time of Mexican and American rule.
The section about Spanish rule is rather dull. A giant portrait of some nobleman, various armor and weapons, and a small statement about the missions represents the period. The exhibit seems to emphasize the weapons and the elite portrait more than the missions. The painting took up an entire wall, and the military hardware is spread out in multiple display cases. In contrast the curator crams as much information, about the missions, as could fit on a couple of small columns off to the side. The numbers tell the tale. The missions start in 1738, with an Indian population of 300,000. By the time of Mexican Independence in 1821, the Indian population is 100,000. The tiny section mentions very little about Junipero Serra, and the abuses of the Indians. There is also a picture showing captured Indian fugitives. Technically all aspects of the missions system are covered. However, the impact of the missions is understated by the space devoted to them. An observer passing by could easily miss this information. Even if there are no large relics like the elite portrait or battle armor, a combination of items could be made to denote the deep impact the missions have in El Norte.
History is so often about the lives of the few elite, and rarely includes aspects of the average man or woman. This exhibit does an excellent job avoiding this cliché by including the interactive 19th century New Mexican home. The portrayal is truly an amazing thing. Not only does the exhibit allow one to see the items, but one can touch them too. The ability to sit in a chair and feel a piece of cloth enhances the experiences beyond anything else. One could almost smell the beans and tortillas cooking in the corner oven. This by far is one of the most exciting sections of the exhibit.
Another example depicting the lives of the average citizen is the impressive display of retablos (saint paintings) and bultos (saint sculptures). These images are made to supplement for the lack of holy relics from Spain. The shortage of supplies is on account of many factors. The two biggest reasons are the location of the colonies and trade restrictions imposed by Spain. There are two ways to supply the northern territories by land and by sea. Going by land is ill-advised do to uncharted routes and hostile natives. The sea is preferable because it is cheaper and the paths are well documented. However, the ocean voyage takes months and there are often delays do to pirates and bad weather. Also, Spain does not allow trade with foreign nations. Business with foreigners does occur, but not to a high degree. The trade restriction combined with the location makes manufactured goods very rare and valuable, thus the church cannot satisfy the great demand for holy relics. To solve this problem, the people of El Norte make their own saint paintings and sculptures. Retablos and bultos develop into their own unique art style by the time of Mexican Independence, and many are displayed in the museum.
Becoming a sovereign nation creates many problems for Mexico. These troubles spill over into El Norte, and as a result the territory is only under Mexican control for about three decades. The independence from Spain allows trade with foreign nations, and the new government secularizes the mission system making way for the rancheros. However, Mexico is plagued with internal struggles, which undermines its control of the nation. The lack of Mexican authority creates a distinct and diverse culture in El Norte.
In the following section of the exhibit, the curator uses California to represent most of El Norte. They do mention Texas and New Mexico, but only once or twice. This leads to the false assumption that all of El Norte is like California. Texas, for example, is a major part of the cotton south. This means there are slaves in Texas as well as rancheros and Indians. The cash crop also gives people addition employment options other than cattle. Texas is like a hybrid of the American West and South; part cattle country, part slave state.
California is no hybrid. It’s all about the hide and tallow trade. Californios (white natives) own huge rancheros that employ vaqueros (Indian cowboys) in order to satisfy the demand for raw materials. “Huge” may be an understatement in describing the enormous properties. In 1841, Santa Marguerita granted Pio and Andres Pico 130,000 acres of ranchland in modern day Camp Pendleton. These vast holdings are perfect for raising cattle to produce hide and tallow. The hides could be used for machine belts in Boston, and the tallow is made into candles for miners in South America. These are not the only uses for hide and tallow, and many Californios become wealthy. The hides were valued at “two dollars in money” according to Richard Dana, and by 1848 about 6 million hides and 7,000 tons of tallow are exported.
California is a good representation of El Norte up to a point. The hide and tallow trade is similar throughout El Norte. However, there are a few more discrepancies that need to be made involving the Mexican-American War. The museum exhibit displays the cause of the war as being a border dispute between two countries in Texas. America wants the border at the Rio Grande, and Mexico believes it should be at the Rio Nueces. Hostilities follow and the United States ends up defeating Mexico, conquering El Norte in the process. This is the information presented, but certain key events are omitted. Little is revealed about the Bear Flag Revolt, and the antics of John C. Fremont. New Mexico must have had a brief part in the war, for they are barely even mentioned. Another key distinction is Texas and New Mexico experience different kinds of population increases than California. Texas and New Mexico are not as isolated from the eastern United States and receives a fairly constant flow of trade and settlers. Land was fertile and cheap so there was an initial population boom, but nothing compared to the California gold rush. There were no “instant cities” like San Francisco in Texas or New Mexico. The curator should have represented these differences in order to make a clear picture of the diversity in El Norte before and after the Mexican-American War.
The exhibit ends by displaying the fall of rancheros in California. There are many examples of property changes, Indian abuses, and other affects of the Gold Rush population boom. The Indian situation does not change when the United States takes over El Norte. During the mid 19th century, $100 bonds are offered for killing Indians. This did not bother the white man, for many during this period believe that the only good Indian is a dead one. “Extermination is no longer a question of the time-the time has arrived, the work has commenced, and let the first man that says treaty or peace be regarded as a traitor” (Yreka Herald 1853). The curator does a fantastic job here of illustrating the doomed fate of the Indian. I wish he or she would have put the same effort into describing the Indians plight during the time of the missions.
Californios are better off than the Indians, but not by much. They have to verify their ranches to the United States government in order to keep their land. The United States congress passes the Land Act of 1851, which “created a three-member commission to review titles, requited claimants to present their cases within two years, and allowed appeals to courts by both claimants and the government.” Out of 813 claimants 512 confirmed their title (Rice et al. 219). Ironically, many rancheros have to sell parts of their land to pay for the court costs to save their property. The less fortunate rancheros fell victim to squatters, farmers, and other types of American settlers. Some, like Pio Pico, are able to sell their land for profit. Pico uses the money to buy a luxury hotel in Los Angeles, and lives a successful life. By the end of the century the great ranchero system is sold out to American settlers.
Leaving the Encounters exhibit one has a new appreciation for El Norte. However, this appreciation is better reached through outside knowledge of the subject matter. Additional information is needed for the early Spanish missions, and the latter diversity between California and the rest of El Norte. This exhibit focus on California is well warranted, but overused. It is hard to believe that the rest of El Norte was like California, especially Texas. By adding the material mentioned, and removing some of the less relevant items the curator could create a clearer picture of El Norte.
Works Cited
Encounters: El Norte-The Spanish and Mexican North. Autry National Center: Museum
of the American West, 2004.
Haynes. A History of Latin America: Ancient America to 1910. Boston: Houghton
Mifflin, 2000.
Rice, Bullough, and Orsi. The Elusive Eden. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill, 2002.
The Rock Springs incident
On the morning of September 2nd, 1885, Mr. Whitehouse and Mr. Jenkins entered mine No. 5 near Rock Springs, Wyoming, and found Chinese miners working their site. Their foreman, Mr. Evans, gave them permission to use the No. 5 or No. 11 mine the day before, and they picked the former. Evans also gave four rooms in this same mine to the Chinese. Whitehouse and Jenkins began working “the first rooms in the entry [of mine No. 5],” as the acting pit boss Dave Brookman ordered, and were unaware that the site was already given to the Chinese. Brookman assumed the Chinese had already started working their sites, and that the white miners would realize which areas were already taken. None of the rooms illustrated signs of work, so the white men started working in one of the Chinese rooms on September 1st. Whitehouse and Jenkins returned the next day; to find two Chinese miners working what they believed was their site. The press account states, “High words followed, then blows. The Chinese from other rooms came rushing in, as did the whites, and a fight ensued with picks, shovels, drills, and needles for weapons.”
Reports indicate the fight ended in favor of the white miners. After this incident, a group of about thirty white men gathered around the railroad tracks in front of the No. 6 mine. The town’s postmaster, O.C. Smith testified that, “About half of them had guns in their hands.” Before noon this group was seen marching through town. Ralph Zwicky, the manager of Rock Springs Store, mentions the Knights of Labor being among the group marching and shouting, “White men fall in.”
Recent labor conflicts at Rock Springs were starting to boil over. The white miners and the Knights of Labor were tired of the Chinese working “their mines,” and refusing to strike for better wages. They decided that the best solution would be to export the competition. By the early afternoon all the stores and saloons agreed to cease the sell of alcohol as tensions, gossip, and the gang grew. At about two o’clock a white mob, ranging from sixty to hundred-fifty, headed towards Chinatown. Some crossed at Bitter Creek, and others used the railroad bridge. Witnesses heard gunfire and later saw the Chinese running for their life. Lor Sun Kit was the first Chinamen shot, receiving a wound on the right side of his back. The Chinese started to desperately flee as Leo Dye Bah, Yip Ah Marn, and others were shot dead. By five o’clock smoke could be seen rising from Chinatown, and a part of the mob turned back towards town targeting a Chinese washhouse. There was a Chinamen with a revolver inside, but he was outnumbered and outgunned. He received a bullet in the back of his head, and the store was set ablaze.
After killing, burning, and looting the mob turned to deporting. The main targets, besides the Chinese themselves, were businessmen involved in hiring and/or working with the hated race. Individuals like W.H. O’Donnell and Mr. Evans, where forced to leave town or suffer the consequences. All cooperated with the mob and left as soon as possible. Once this act was complete the mob dispersed for supper, but it was far from over. The rioters just needed to get their energy back after such a busy morning. By nightfall the mob returned to finish the torching and looting of Chinatown.
While their homes burned, the Chinese fled desperately seeking a safe haven. By September 5th many found it at Evanston. There were twenty-eight Chinese, however, that did not make it, and at least fifteen were wounded. The victims came to Evanston by foot, but several arrived by train. The Union Pacific telegraphed its conductors to pick up any Chinese fleeing Rock Springs and take them to Evanston. Four days later the Chinese were escorted back to Rock Springs with federal troops for protection. The U.S. government arranged this with help from the Union Pacific Railroad Co. The railroad also gave addition aide to help the riot victims get back to work. The Chinese, however, were not anxious to return mining when they arrived back home to see little more than ashes. The Chinese Minister in New York, Huan Sih Chuen, quoted the property losses from the riot at $147,000, or $200 a person. Around seventy-nine homes were destroyed, along with Ah Lee’s laundry house outside of Chinatown. The survivor’s living quarters were set up in boxcars, and the federal troops remained to ensure the peace.
With a return of order to Rock Springs, the Chinese and U.S. governments both set up investigations involving the massacre. The U.S. sent three government directors, E.P. Alexander, M.A. Hanna, and James W. Savage to investigate the grievances of Rock Springs. On September 19th, the gentlemen came up with this conclusion:
We find such a condition of affairs here as in our opinion endangers the property of the road, jeopardizes the interests of the Government, and calls for prompt interference. We therefore deem it important that full authority should be given to the proper offices to afford ample assistance to the managers in their efforts to protect the property of the company and conduct the business of the road.
The main interests of these investigations were the condition of the businesses after the riot. They were more concerned about the Union Pacific Railroad and Beckwith, Quinn & Co., than the losses ensued by Hsu Chenog Hook, Chun Sing Wah, and other Chinese miners. In an interview with the Salt Lake Tribune on September 20th, 1885, the gentlemen gave more details about the punishment of the white rioters. About sixteen were arrested, forty-five were discharged, and none of the participants would be allowed to work for the Union Pacific without proving their innocence. They also stated that none of the rioters were American. They were of English, Welsh, Scotch, Irish, and Scandinavian decent. About a month late, on October 10th, the Alta-California newspaper from San Francisco reported that none of the parties involved with the massacre were convicted. The results of the Sweetwater County grand jury, and the U.S. investigation did not satisfy the Chinese representatives in Washington D.C., New York, and San Francisco.
The Chinese investigators consisted of the San Francisco Minister F.A. Bee, the New York Minister Huang Sih Chuen, and Mr. Tseng Hoy an interpreter. They were escorted by federal troops to Rock Springs, and made a detailed inquiry into the massacre. They collected information about property damage, lives lost, the U.S. investigation, newspaper accounts, and testimony from both Chinese and whites. They submitted a detailed list of each category to their superior in Washington D.C., Minister Cheng Tsao Ju. He than organized the report with other evidence, and presented his case for indemnity for the Chinese victims of the Rock Springs massacre to Secretary of State, T.F. Bayard. In particular, he paraphrases the treaty of 1868, Article VI, and the treaty of 1880, Article II; “Chinese subjects in the United States should be treated as those of the most favored nation.” The ambassador also mentions past incidents of hostility in China, where Americans were compensated for losses derived from violence. He even mentions a situation where the U.S. paid Spanish subjects for losses in a New Orleans riot. In short his argument was the golden rule; do on to others as you want done to you. Unfortunately, like the twenty-eight Chinese workers in Rock Springs, Chen Tsao Ju’s proposal was shot dead.
The U.S. government offered lip service as indemnity for the Rock Springs massacre. Both President Grover Cleveland and Secretary of State T.F. Bayard denied any responsibility on the part of the U.S. government to produce compensation for Chinese victims of the Rock Springs massacre. The President concludes, “[The] United States Government is under no obligation, whether by the express terms of its treaties with China or the principles of international law, to indemnify these Chinese subjects losses…” Mr. Bayard goes further stating that none of the attackers were American citizens, and there were no representatives of the two national governments. “There was, therefore, no official insult or wrong. Whatever occurred was between private individuals wholly devoid of official character… [the] assailants, equally with the assailed were strangers in our land.” The U.S. government is not unsympathetic, however, the President and Secretary of State suggested to Congress donating a generous gift to the affected parties. President Cleveland makes it clear, however, that this “action is in no wise to be held as a precedent, is wholly gratuitous, and is resorted to in a spirit of pure generosity toward those who are otherwise helpless.” Bayard also stresses that the government will increase their effort in the protection of Chinese individuals in U.S. territories. These promises, unfortunately, do nothing for the Chinese of the Rock Springs massacre.
The Rock Springs incident is just one case of many, in which white people attack another ethnicity and get away with it. Despite the best efforts of the Chinese government, the United States left these victims with little protection and no hope of reimbursement. The white rioters, however, can keep their stolen loot and blood stained hands without any form of major punishment. This period of American history is truly best suited for the white race.
Reports indicate the fight ended in favor of the white miners. After this incident, a group of about thirty white men gathered around the railroad tracks in front of the No. 6 mine. The town’s postmaster, O.C. Smith testified that, “About half of them had guns in their hands.” Before noon this group was seen marching through town. Ralph Zwicky, the manager of Rock Springs Store, mentions the Knights of Labor being among the group marching and shouting, “White men fall in.”
Recent labor conflicts at Rock Springs were starting to boil over. The white miners and the Knights of Labor were tired of the Chinese working “their mines,” and refusing to strike for better wages. They decided that the best solution would be to export the competition. By the early afternoon all the stores and saloons agreed to cease the sell of alcohol as tensions, gossip, and the gang grew. At about two o’clock a white mob, ranging from sixty to hundred-fifty, headed towards Chinatown. Some crossed at Bitter Creek, and others used the railroad bridge. Witnesses heard gunfire and later saw the Chinese running for their life. Lor Sun Kit was the first Chinamen shot, receiving a wound on the right side of his back. The Chinese started to desperately flee as Leo Dye Bah, Yip Ah Marn, and others were shot dead. By five o’clock smoke could be seen rising from Chinatown, and a part of the mob turned back towards town targeting a Chinese washhouse. There was a Chinamen with a revolver inside, but he was outnumbered and outgunned. He received a bullet in the back of his head, and the store was set ablaze.
After killing, burning, and looting the mob turned to deporting. The main targets, besides the Chinese themselves, were businessmen involved in hiring and/or working with the hated race. Individuals like W.H. O’Donnell and Mr. Evans, where forced to leave town or suffer the consequences. All cooperated with the mob and left as soon as possible. Once this act was complete the mob dispersed for supper, but it was far from over. The rioters just needed to get their energy back after such a busy morning. By nightfall the mob returned to finish the torching and looting of Chinatown.
While their homes burned, the Chinese fled desperately seeking a safe haven. By September 5th many found it at Evanston. There were twenty-eight Chinese, however, that did not make it, and at least fifteen were wounded. The victims came to Evanston by foot, but several arrived by train. The Union Pacific telegraphed its conductors to pick up any Chinese fleeing Rock Springs and take them to Evanston. Four days later the Chinese were escorted back to Rock Springs with federal troops for protection. The U.S. government arranged this with help from the Union Pacific Railroad Co. The railroad also gave addition aide to help the riot victims get back to work. The Chinese, however, were not anxious to return mining when they arrived back home to see little more than ashes. The Chinese Minister in New York, Huan Sih Chuen, quoted the property losses from the riot at $147,000, or $200 a person. Around seventy-nine homes were destroyed, along with Ah Lee’s laundry house outside of Chinatown. The survivor’s living quarters were set up in boxcars, and the federal troops remained to ensure the peace.
With a return of order to Rock Springs, the Chinese and U.S. governments both set up investigations involving the massacre. The U.S. sent three government directors, E.P. Alexander, M.A. Hanna, and James W. Savage to investigate the grievances of Rock Springs. On September 19th, the gentlemen came up with this conclusion:
We find such a condition of affairs here as in our opinion endangers the property of the road, jeopardizes the interests of the Government, and calls for prompt interference. We therefore deem it important that full authority should be given to the proper offices to afford ample assistance to the managers in their efforts to protect the property of the company and conduct the business of the road.
The main interests of these investigations were the condition of the businesses after the riot. They were more concerned about the Union Pacific Railroad and Beckwith, Quinn & Co., than the losses ensued by Hsu Chenog Hook, Chun Sing Wah, and other Chinese miners. In an interview with the Salt Lake Tribune on September 20th, 1885, the gentlemen gave more details about the punishment of the white rioters. About sixteen were arrested, forty-five were discharged, and none of the participants would be allowed to work for the Union Pacific without proving their innocence. They also stated that none of the rioters were American. They were of English, Welsh, Scotch, Irish, and Scandinavian decent. About a month late, on October 10th, the Alta-California newspaper from San Francisco reported that none of the parties involved with the massacre were convicted. The results of the Sweetwater County grand jury, and the U.S. investigation did not satisfy the Chinese representatives in Washington D.C., New York, and San Francisco.
The Chinese investigators consisted of the San Francisco Minister F.A. Bee, the New York Minister Huang Sih Chuen, and Mr. Tseng Hoy an interpreter. They were escorted by federal troops to Rock Springs, and made a detailed inquiry into the massacre. They collected information about property damage, lives lost, the U.S. investigation, newspaper accounts, and testimony from both Chinese and whites. They submitted a detailed list of each category to their superior in Washington D.C., Minister Cheng Tsao Ju. He than organized the report with other evidence, and presented his case for indemnity for the Chinese victims of the Rock Springs massacre to Secretary of State, T.F. Bayard. In particular, he paraphrases the treaty of 1868, Article VI, and the treaty of 1880, Article II; “Chinese subjects in the United States should be treated as those of the most favored nation.” The ambassador also mentions past incidents of hostility in China, where Americans were compensated for losses derived from violence. He even mentions a situation where the U.S. paid Spanish subjects for losses in a New Orleans riot. In short his argument was the golden rule; do on to others as you want done to you. Unfortunately, like the twenty-eight Chinese workers in Rock Springs, Chen Tsao Ju’s proposal was shot dead.
The U.S. government offered lip service as indemnity for the Rock Springs massacre. Both President Grover Cleveland and Secretary of State T.F. Bayard denied any responsibility on the part of the U.S. government to produce compensation for Chinese victims of the Rock Springs massacre. The President concludes, “[The] United States Government is under no obligation, whether by the express terms of its treaties with China or the principles of international law, to indemnify these Chinese subjects losses…” Mr. Bayard goes further stating that none of the attackers were American citizens, and there were no representatives of the two national governments. “There was, therefore, no official insult or wrong. Whatever occurred was between private individuals wholly devoid of official character… [the] assailants, equally with the assailed were strangers in our land.” The U.S. government is not unsympathetic, however, the President and Secretary of State suggested to Congress donating a generous gift to the affected parties. President Cleveland makes it clear, however, that this “action is in no wise to be held as a precedent, is wholly gratuitous, and is resorted to in a spirit of pure generosity toward those who are otherwise helpless.” Bayard also stresses that the government will increase their effort in the protection of Chinese individuals in U.S. territories. These promises, unfortunately, do nothing for the Chinese of the Rock Springs massacre.
The Rock Springs incident is just one case of many, in which white people attack another ethnicity and get away with it. Despite the best efforts of the Chinese government, the United States left these victims with little protection and no hope of reimbursement. The white rioters, however, can keep their stolen loot and blood stained hands without any form of major punishment. This period of American history is truly best suited for the white race.
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