Sowing Empire: Landscape And Colonization [1 ed.] 1438426690, 9780816640966, 0816640963

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CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

1x

Introducrion: On 1hc Psychogeographies of Empire CHAPTE R I

The Hybrid Production of Empire

CHAPTER 2

Transplanting che Mecropole

45

CHAPTE R

3

Imperial Nurseries

95

CHA PTER

4

Some Queer Versions ofGeorgic

CHAPTER

5

Councercolonial Landscapes

129

191

Conclusion: Empire's Displacemencs Nores

243

Index

275

237

xi

AC KN 0 W LED GM EN T S

Appropriately perhaps for a project on landscaping, diasporic movement, and memory, this book was long in the making. Questions about the material remaking of the "nature" of place pursued me from undergraduate research at Princeton in art history and cultural studies (with special thanks ro Par Brown, Betsy Sears, and Tony Vidler) through MA work at the Courrauld Institute of Arr (with David Solkin and Karie Scott) char encompassed che study of eighteenth-century landscaping to PhD studies in arr hisrory at Harvard, where I was supported in writing a dissertation that always wanted to be a book in queer and posrcolonial visual culture studies. T he manuscript traveled with me as it was shaped by interdisciplinary reaching at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, postdoctoral resea rch fellowships at the University of California at Los Angeles and rhe Srnirhsonian Institution, and then my present position in me Department of Art History and the developing program in Visual Culture Studies at rhe University of W isconsin at Madison. Along the way to the final manuscript, this extended itinerary translated into invitations and ocher helpful opportunities to share work in progress in a variety of conre:xrs: the annual meetings of the College Arr Associa(ion, rhe Modern Language Association, the Group for Early Modern Culmral Studies, the American Society for EighteenthCenrury Studies, and the New England Council of L1cin American Studies; the Berkshire Conference on the History of Women, che Midwescern American Society for Eighceenth-Century Studies conference, the arr hisrory departments of Connecticut College, me Uni versiry of Southern California, the University of Norrh Carolina at C hapel HiU, and Vanderbilt University; the women's srudies department at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill; the Cenrer for E uropean Srudies at Harvard Uni versity; and the yearlo ng series of symposia, "The Global Eighteenth Century," sponsored by the William Andrews C lark Memorial Library and the Center for Seventeenth- and Eighceenth-Century Srudies at the University of California at Los Angeles. The concepcual framing of the project a nd articulation of ics argument was assisted, at various srages, by the questions, comments, and insights of Carrie Alyea, Ann IX

x

,

ACKNOWLF.OGM EN T!>

Bermingham, Karen Enc:unaci6n, George Haggerty, Melissa Hyde, Lisa Kernan, Deidre Lynch, Jann Marlock, Andrew McClellan , Jeff Merrick, Nick Mirweff, Lisa Moore, Anna Neill, Felicity Nussbaum, Parrieia Juliana Smirh, Kris Srraub, and Aileen Tsui, all of whom read or liscened co significant porrions of rhe manuscript and were helpful a1 different momenrs in che researching, wriring, and ed1ring. Marfa OeGuzrnan, Betti de Guzman, and Luis de Guzm:ln saw chis project chrough its firsc incarnation. I am graceful to rhe Deparrmenr of the History of An and Architecture ar Harvard University and the Harvard Graduate School of Arcs and Sciences for che Sheldon Traveling Fellowship and a Mellon Foundation Fellowship, both of which enabled crucial research travel thac shaped chis project in ics early scages. I thank my former colleagues and srudenrs ar rhe University of North Carolina ar C hapel Hill, parcicularly Durba Chacraraj, Tracy Cilona, Shannon Graham, and Rashmi Varma. I express my profound appreciation to my colleagues and my students ar rhe Unive rsity of Wisconsin ar Madison for providing a creative and challengingly supportive insrirurional home for cbe final preparation of che manuscripc. My appreciation goes as well co rhe Graduate School at the University of Wisconsin at Madison for materially supporting che book by providing funding for summer research and coward che many illustrations. I have benefited from conversations with many ocher interlocutors whom I trust will know who chey are and will recognize char their e ngagement was appreciated. My gracirude goes especially to Jennifer Moore, who is no longer with che University of Minnesota Press, for her incerest in che project, co Doug Armato and Carrie Mullen for their ongoing faith in this book, and to Paula Dragosh for her copyediting. My deepest thanks go to Norman Bryson, Mirka Benes, and Mary Sheriff for their steadfast belief in and support of che crajeccory of this work. For all of their love and encouragement, I am enduringly grateful to Susan and Marry Miller, Michael and Edwina Casid, Bert Lev, and Claude Bonnot. The final stages of preparing the manuscript we re encouraged by the brightening, phosphorescent presence of Kristin Hunt.

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introduction

ON THE PSYCHOGEOGRAPHIES OF EMPIRE

DREAMSCAPING AND THE LABORS OF CONDENSATION

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Let me open chis book with a dream of desired material transformation. My dream features the wonderfully condensed space-time of a printed book. It is a book of changing dimensions that casts its world-remaking wishes for the present and furure of the globe in terms of a natural history. The book opens onco a topographical landscape of word and image. Its seedlings of text are interleaved with a bounty of diagrammatic layouts, mappings of perfected prospects, and large-leaved illuscracive figures. These rivalrous representations, when touched and handled, extend their paper projections into other space-times beyond the hedges of che bordered page. As the reader's fingers unfurl che folded paper, inked plant specimens spread across the enlarging plates. In the process, che botanical demonstrations perform the realizing crick of nature in the future perfect. They will have scattered out of the folio toward body and ground and, there, will have been paradise. The dream that condenses a desire for material transformation into che strange spacetime of a natural history book is nor just a dream. And it is not just a dream of mine. Sigmund Freud's Interpretation of Dreams illustrates the psychic and ideological labor performed by condensation, the reduction of wide-ranging aims and potential meanings to a detail, with rhe discussion of rwo dreams chat cum on the concresced remnant or seed of a garden or plant reference: "The Dream of the Botanical Monograph" and "A Lovely Dream. " 1 Both dreams rework passionate desire and attachment in terms of the botanical. "A Lovely Dream" rakes its ride from an associative train of thought branching from an apple tree co Goethe's Fawt, first published as Faust, rin Fragment in 1790. In the quoted piece, the ambitious scholar declares as he dances, "A lovely dream once came co me / And I beheld an apple tree, I on which rwo lovely apples shone; I They charmed me so, I climbed thereon" (287). The lovely witch with whom he is dancing replies, "Apples have been desired by you I Since first in Paradise they grew; I And I am moved with joy co know I Thar such within my garden grow." These concatenated XI

, IN rRODUC I ION

dre.1ms of falling (the fall from 1hr Garden of Eden, F.1us1 ·~ own seduction res1a1ed in terms of tl11s fall. and the dreamer·~ fears of falling in love and foiling in social s1a1ure) intertwine 1he historical beginni ngs of a love story and rhc genesis of a botanical specimen, che apple thac "firs1 in Parndisc ... grew." So laden is chis fruic-bearing tree wiih the fumiliar associacive cluster connecting rhe sexual regulation of bodies and desires, 1he supposed dangers of embodied knowledge, and the acrendant story of :i first diaspora, the expulsion from paradise, envisioned as a garden, inro :i world of agricultural coil, tha1 Freud abruptly concludes chc scene of the lovely dream wirh anochcr kind of reduction, rhe confident assercion 1hat "there cannot be rhe fainrest doubc whac the apple-rree and che apples srood for" (287). Whar is perhaps even more interesti ng about the labors, undergone in The lmerpretation of Dreams, of filling our a landscape of meaning from co ndensed details of dream-cex1 is noc what, in an imaginative game of one-co-one correspondence, che apple tree may be made co scand for but rather what is fallen for along the way. In the strange itinerary of episcemophilia, the space-time of The Interpretation of Dreams, along the course of ics desire for knowledge, condenses or assembles together with che bocanical specimen of the apple cree a cornucopia of fragmencary derails chat are also already erotically charged by fantasy both recrospective and projective: che Garden of Eden, Sappho, Fausc, lovely wicches, lovely breascs, planting, che nursing of children, and something called "lesbian praccices." The oucgrowch of such a list may remind us of the creative aspccc of chc produccion of hiscory our of chc aces of memory involved in gardens, dreams, books, and even their analysis.

TROUBLING PARADISE: MNEMONIC DEVICES OU T OF THE COLONIAL ARCHIVE OF NATURAL HI STO RY Gardens, like books and even dream s, may cerrainly be said to have hiscories. But landscaping or the laying ouc of cerrain and viewpoincs, che embedding of bocanical seeds and archicecrural monumencs, the inscrip cion of fragmencs of text, and rhe carving ouc of paths of conneccion berween chese aids ro associa cion also produce rhe past not as a foreign and inaccessible country but as living hisrory rilled our of rhe ground of che "councry" in and for the presenr and porencially future. The history of che an of memory from the rherorical devices employed by classical orators chrough the "seeds which [Giordano] Bruno had sown during his travels in Germany" may be most familiar as a technique, described, for example, by Frances Yates's Art of Memory (1966), for placing ideas wichin an archireccural interior. l And yec, despite th e immobiliuicion and even hermetic enclosure promised by the walled solidity of the build ing of the memory rheacer, che an of memory did no1 merely spread (following, for example, che cravels of scholars such as Bruno) bur was icself an active, moving, gardening practice, a war co produce new macerializacions out of rhc seeds of embedded ideas. The seccion "The Arc of Memory" in Liu/e, Big (1981), a novel by U.S. wricer John Crowley, recounts a visi1 ro a landscape park located at the center of a ciry. This garden, called small, encapsulates

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. INTRODUCTION

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XIII

chc cricks of planting and perspeccive inhereni in the art of memory as a practice of materialization. Rather chan being overshadowed or contained by the city, the garden obscures its view, inAuencing the itincratc, lwmcless "bum" described as "queer·· to remark, "The furrher in you go, the bigger it gecs." 1 I revisit Li11/e, Big here to call attention to how my own tilling our of che ground of the colonial archive reworks the practice of the ancient arcs of memory, planting, and wriring to raise che queer relandscaping implications of the space-time problem of scale and effecc, how critical pressure on the detail or che small place and attention co the strange labors of condensation chat, for example, draw the apple tree, paradise as a garden, nursing, and "lesbian practices" into the same few pages of Freud's Interpretation of Dreams may have world-remaking significance and thus not be, in any real sense, tiny ac all. I recall the afternoon in the archive when I firsc unfolded one of the large format places interleaved perpendicularly into a copy of The Namral History ofJamaica {1725) by che British physician Hans Sloane and watched a palm tree grow sideways out of the book. This fantastic remnant of the dream enterprise of colonization cakes the form of a condensed surprise. To swing open this relatively gigantic plate is to be confruntcd by the sensation of mixed emotion, che complicity of pleasure and disgust. To unfold the palm tree plate is to be confronted by the materializing aesthecic prospect of palms forcibly proliferated to signify boundary and property in their use as "natural fences" and its enfolding with conAicting dreams fo r che production of a paradise in the tropics, and countercolonial knowledges and practices nor entirely contained by che textual and planting apparatus of imperial landscaping. This book, Sowing Empire, cases a path of trouble and pleasure, following che often disavowed trails connecting the book, the botanical specimen and the garden, the labors of imagination and materialization, the production of the genius of the place (what is most real or authentic in the topographical fearures and plantings of a location) and the global traffic in planes, European landscape gardens and colonial plantations, the positioning of heterosexual reproduction as "narural" by its articulation in terms of the garden and the allusions co queer practjces that. like Sappho and "le~hian practices" in the "lovely dre:un" of the primal scene of the apple tree and the Garden of Eden, are already there. In a series of interconnected readings, Sowing Empire pays attention to colonization on the scale of the intimate, to the sexual and colonial policies of the small and apparently arbitrary remnant. Bue, in its approach to hiscory, it also holds on to che paradisiacal promise embedded in gardening as an arc of memory that, rather than merely record a dead history, endeavors to materially rework how the matter of the archive is physically remembered, raking over and reseeding the ground of the past for the materialization of a different furure. The first use of the term sexuality in the English language the O>.ford English Dictionary credits to \'V'illiam Cowper's 1800 reference to Erasmus Darwin's "Loves of the Plants." An extended analogy between plants and human sexuality made possible by the Linnaean sexual system of botanical classification and published as part of The Botanic Garden (1789), Darwin's poem assembles plants from diverse terrains worldwide to represent imperium :is :i glob:il bot:1nic:1l g:irden, but one th:it becomes the location

IN1 f\011\ICTION

of torrid rommcC', pariicubrl) nf those 'cxu.11 praC11ecs dis.wowed a1 home. The ' of diaspora. Wirh the ma1cria1i7.ing 111e1.1phor of pl.uning scattered seed, rhar immrrrwL of r/.r Bnmh Colonies in rhe \\''t-sr Indies (which first appeared an 1793). b, the lam.ucan pl.u11er .rnd hLStorian Bryan Edwards. the Hortus Easurzsis adverti5a the ..olonial governmem of Jun.m:a's rt'Cent purchase of Ease's botanical garden as a site .for .i...... hm.attz.rng plmu c.-onomic:i.lly useful to the maintenance of the sugar-plancaoon mJ..hme. \\rule the Horrus EasunsiJ stands for a particular botanical garden, the caalog \ publicarion. ~debr:11ing the garden's new civic role with its pithy introduction ("This garden 1s no" the property of the public"). also represents the ideal version of the .:olonial landscape of Jamaica as a vast and various rable. The Horrus Easunszs bears none of the dense description characteristic of the natural hiscones of Jamaica from the physician Si· Hans Sloane (the first volume of which was published in 1-0- md the second in 1725).'4 through Patrick Browne (1756) and Edward Long (1-4l. HO\\C\·er. the Horrus EasullP.s catalog shares with the colonial natural histor.· book a basic strategic struaure. These texts gather plants from all over the globt mro one space and yet label and uppo,c..1 ,hdr between the ,t.1tcd aim of agncultur.11 rnlon ~ 1"'" prmr to the re"olt oi 1he Nonh A111crk.111 colonic> and'. ~fter .178~. an, cmph.1.•1• o u>1nm1·r,1.1l 1r.1dmg mi,,·hlrJcrcri1e' the d.-vdop111clll of Bnush Emp~rc. S1'.ch: m00; 1i:nore' the 1dcolos:1cal and ma1eri.1I pr.1cli1c> of 1hc me1ropole. the unpcrial unih.,. t ~on m 1111enul c~loniu1ion of \X'.1le>. ~,odaml. and I rel and under Engli~h rule. .1.q•. h,i,;, for Bn1"h ,-oloniz.uion and tr.1Jc .1bro.1d. lnstt'.td of a drantaiic difference. 1h.c 1-e!',ccn the lir>t and >«ond Briuion: mdccJ. 11 ".l\ =n .i' the domestic precondition of 0'l' of lwhnJ11; lion. In _ihi, di"ourse 1he pl.1111J1io11 mok 1hc form of the picturc>quc int~·rmi\"11.tnJ· ''Jf>e. I h1' landsc.ipc w.is 10 be bo1h 11w producer and the emblem ol impen.111"'" throughout every part of that romantic Island. At the center of 1his landscaped scene are the colonial

grafu:

Tht palm, th< cocoa-nue. the glowing red of the scarlet cordium. the ,·erd•nt bowers of the jcssamine and Grcnadilla vines, rhe tufted plumes of the lilac, the silver-while

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1 i~urc 2 I hom» v,...,Ion llnJ-.•pmg-the m:uks of end0>urc. pn,Jte property, forcificacion. and confintma:r In the 1J1om of p1ctur: the b.mard ctdar trees. that arc dotted over the p:tscures. afford a pleasing shJd dr.1wings arc engraved: of the numerous and interesting views he iook in Jamaica, on ly six have ycc met

the publ ic eye, although thorc arc many chat richly deserve

t0

be removed from dust and ohliv·

ion. As his ralems were various, and cxl1ibition of almost everything chat Nature produces, may be found in his works; and these arc exccuccd wirh equal beauty and precision in colors. and

1n ehalks.H

The device of incersplicing the missi ng Robertson views endeavors to bring cogether several contradictory senses. The ficcion is thac che painter and the planter arc only pro· ducing faithful copies of whac is already there. The colonial landscape is to be understood as always already like a painting or like a painting composicion rendered in an engraved form. The device incimaces further rhac co lonial relandscaping may rival nature, that che emblem of anticonquest, the intermixed landscape, is nature improved by art. However, the scene of colon ial transformacion, che "piccuresque varieties of che . . IsIan d , " are co be t.aken as w hat "Nature prod uces" an d "art " tmttates. Robertson's actual composition of the View of Roaring River Estate deploys che conventions of picturesque composition-concrasts of light and shade, a serpencine path leading the eye lazily from the foregrounded vegetation to che main plancation buildings set gently on a slight hill over che gushing river-to envelop the signs of cransplancacion such that the machinery and archiceccure, che plantation fields and clearings, and slave labor seem co merge organically with che vegetation rendered as overgrowth. The killing labor of black slaves is abscracced to the almost imperceptible far distance. The tiny suggestion of slaves working in the cleared field between the buildings is dominated by che sign of the fruits of their labor being transported by oxcart down che pach coward che river. Ac che cencer of che composition is che notorious fiction char slave life was easy, noc fatal, and th:ic births among slaves did or mighc outnumber deaths. In the exact midpoint of che scene is a black male slave sea ted at rest and a black woman slave pointing dramatically across the river co a black man carrying a load on his back and anocher black woman walking freely :ilong rhe path wich a chi ld holding onto her skin. The myth scenically presented here is that rhc colonial plantation sysccm of slave labor could not o nly produce but reproduce itself. The visua l and texwal discourse of the picturesque inrcrmixed landscape distinguished by its purported variety and yet h:irmony attempted co naturalize slavery as part of a gcorgic plantation Eden of slave labor, "peace and plenry." For example, che "landschape [sir)" of chc: parish of Clarendon on che island of Jamaica drawn by Edward Long's / lisrory ofjn111r1ira (1774) is arranged from chc "commanding" and "reigning" vantage point of the '\cac" of,, sugar plantation owner Mr. Fn, formerly chief jus· cice of Jamaica. The vic:w is oriented from .1bovc, th.it i>. from rhe master's house on a

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·oranae. uc.;w. •nd ~ L trt'n t r u\C and p1euurc • Thc h.a111tllttn ct>mmand \ • 1r,• pro•peet of the h•bud L1 I h L-.·unC'ofn.rure It 1nrcrm11rd ltnd\C.a(>(' 1fur L' \(1 to llC" tllt1.cn .J\ \Imp ' l ~ uc.i1 fL\1ng

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TltE llYllRIO PRODUCTION 01 I Ml'IRI

21

his c;sars published by Rohen Don Edward>. Tl,, Hmo')- Crr~ and unnmm:tol. ofthe Bm11h Cclomn 111 the U'-bt Indies. vol. r. facing p•ge xi. Courtesy of th< !Wt Book. \1anuscnpr. and Special Collroions Lib12ry, Duke Univer.iry

1111

111 BRID

l'R. tilt' hrc.1d fruit (l;igme ~). llre.tdfrutt rould nm be grown lw seed. !'he tir,t dlon to tr.m,port I • r.d! brt-.1dtrui1 tree 'P(rimt'll' .tcro's the octock Jnd provisions for c:1pt.1in :ind crew. Supported. even in hi, cfogr.u:e. hy Sir Joseph B.111ks. the .1m.11rur botanist and founder of Kew Garden>. Bligh w.1s gil'cn .1 second ch.111ce in 1~90 co unden.1ke the same mission. Despite the s.1lc tr.rn>por: of the trees on the second voy.1ge. and their quick and Aouri,hing 1.1ke to the clim.ne .tnd soil conditions of S.1in1 Vincent and Jamaica. the breadfruit became an edihlc plant so h.ttcd by slan·s that br the mid-nineteenth century it was used exclusively for animal fodcler. 4 ' Ostensibly intended to serve as a palli.nive starch for hungry ,laves. chis 1:1hitian fruit. the Arrocmp11s nltilis, was steeped, even in its very naming. in the myth of tropical pa'1oral-- view of che port of Toulon. th11 pnysngt Oandsc.pc) of empire i~ the evoca1ion of whac ;, ca lled the " Freedom Principle ·

Tiil 11\llRIO rROOlCTIO'

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[)e,pue the enforcement of cnc empire. bur cho1 P"~"'X'· 1hc polou •.11. c..onom1c and .1c1thc11t ordcn11g of 1hc pllJS. made of empire 3 SWct cult1\Jt1on and civili1.:i1ion: 111 sliorc. ar1.

Grafi111g and /Jmfimg I urnini: from pamrmg and royal com m1ss1on; ro popular dissemination and m'!cn.I tr>n,formJ11on of France's colonial possc111ons in the Caribbean. I consid"r rwo mtmc· l•tcd tethnolog1es for th" production and reproducuon of French colonial power througii h' buJ1uuon: If) t!4nsplamarion and plane transfers. or colonial grafung; md (2 cr.c pl•n' and reproductive "blueprint> for plamarion l.1you1 and machinery. or colonw dr.hong. Bv transplanution-chc transfer of seeds and machinery from chc mctropob. plan" from the l:.ut Indies, rhc South Sea islands. Africa. rhe mainland Amcnc.u, .lnJ

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Joi l'roi11on 1-~6. 011 on un\.1\ \tu\C1 "ould appear a; enhgh1encd uriliry. that is, as so na:cs"" and ad' anccd as ro be irr< of the Briush Wes1 Indian islands. craung wh>t ""Wied • ·habnauon." thac is. 1naking the 1crro.in habitable for the 1nstaila11()Q of the sugar plantauon. or Jurrt"Tu. em•ilcd ·defrichcment." This term. mean ing to rum fallo" ground into• culuvaccd field. was a euphemism for what was acrually done to thr cn\lronmcnu of the French Coribbean colonies. The process of felling irec.s, cuumg •nd d1wng up 10"-l~ing ,·egctarion, 'nd the burning of all roots made of an "'awhelmmg perccn1age of the island of Saini-Domi ngue, fo r example. the virtual i>bub r.li2 demanded bj· 2rei1mt"nt~ for rht> right of po.s.~sion r h:tr r hr Fr t"n ch . likt the British_ •dop1cd from the Roman legal principle of us nuUiuJ.•• For 1he French State. 1he cbn:i to 1usufi•ble colonization depended on 1urning the pay1 into a pa)>age, th21 is, on di.. mdigcn•ung. transplanting. and hybridizing their C.ribbean island po>SeSSions such th.i the islands were '"a sense emptied ou1 and then repossessed br agricultural spccudc. the >hO"· of the land.scape machine and iu produce. tmcr de Vartcl's Dro11 tk l"' .ou pnnapr1 tk la lo1 flaturelle (The Righi of Men or the Principles of Natural Liw, 1-;~ which bttame the found•1ional text for 1hc French agriculturalist justificaiicn ofemp11r >.sscrtcd 1hac n•rural rights of property belong not 10 those who inhabi1 a place bu1 ro those who plant. V2ucl enshrined agriculrural cultivation as no t ju.st a means to stake• cla.m but moreover as di\•inc injunc[ion: '"The cultivarion of the soil not onl~· descn'O the anenuon of a government bccouse of its grca1 utility, bur in addition is an oblsg•aon imposed upon man by nature. E"cry nation is therefore bou nd by natur:tl la" 10 culn· vote the bnd which h.s fallen 10 iu share."'• The produciion of a hrbridiud hnd.'Clr< 1hrough tr•nsplamauon and colonial graf1ing s1akcd a claim to pos>cs,ion through'""" (orm.ar1vc CUJ[J\'ation of chC'

'loOil. fabrica11ng a Colo11ial Sl.l tC of Cu lt i\·.Jtcd

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10 1ignify 11.1 own ordmaiion by "nacural law." The sug;u-cme plani, whose monocuhure was a11hc cen1cr of colonial "rd•mb..•1""~· w.t.1 mnially d.11mcd 10 h•vc been indigenous 10 !>aint-Dominguc in l·rem.h Domm1,•n m 11s1onary raihcr Jcan-BJpllSIC Labat\ Nouve1111 l'O)'ngr (//L\ !J!rJ dr lilmrrrqr.e ('Nt~\ "" .igc to 1he hla11d~ of America, 1724).1•• However. 1h roughou1 the ''"'' of 1hc e1i:lncrn1h Century lht llllportJllOn :1nd lf.tnsplan 1.11 ior1 o( the lave ... Abscracccd from their hunun cosc, colon1;il gufung and drafting were to operate as signs of distinc11on as well .LS rools for the ~.~~··~··~·-.~~· ·· ·· ..()o' ' "\, . .. .. ,) .\ ,.. • \ I • t l J • I .u:., • l • ~ • \: 1, t i " ' '- l '- ! i ':f'• ._ ' •· • l t '- I l.

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A\,tllc. l11hlm11 ro111pnr.11ifdr1 pmrl11111om drs ml11111r1 l·r.111f1ll•r• ""' A1111//rs. 1/l'fl 1rllr1 tits colmttr• tl11gl11M1, l:Sp11g1111/i. rr llol/,111d"'1r•: d1· /~11111lr n~- 11 1-SS (l'.1m 1-99!. I.tern~ p.tgt· -1 Rcpr1111cJ hy prt\ of 1hc coumry 1h•1 aro n01 m11 rununu< rlun, the mo\! wild •nd lxau11fol suu..1om of 1hc hC>c.•11. I l\·oli, and Albano; and 1hc wam of 1ho.c picturc1quc and clcg.101 ruins wluch 10 much cnohlc 1hc land1c.1pe1 of haly, Jrt 111Jde SOl11e arnemh for, in the p.11111cr's eye, by 1he appeJrancc. 1he variety, .ind 1hc number of bu1ld1ng1w

Jamaica 1\ metaphorically transformed mto a colonial hybrid oflcaly and the Caribbean. that is, into a condensed picture of succeeding empires. Other t.1bleaux tran;posc >Outhcrn Europe. specifically Naples, and the South Sea island of Otaheite, or lahiti, onto the terrJin of Jarna1c.1 so that "m these you may form the picturesque appearance of Otaheite, the magnificent scenery of the bay of Bay 0 ( King)ton, and the tremendous expression of that of Naples. "m Soil e\JU\ no Tiiier. •1d

To turn 1hr Glrbc Jntl w.uch 1hr 111fJ11I hladc; N.11ure 1hcir vcgc1.1hlc llrc.td ;up1>lic' AnJ high in Air l11,u11Jm Huvc\11 me. 1' 1

'Plant.inc,: or "Plant.tins." .111d 'vcgecablc l\re.ul." or 'llrcadfruit," were both tr.ml· pl.1mot:d from ·1:1hi1i 10 J.1111.1k.1. l'hc first cu hivatcd pl.11u.1in$ were 111trnducc:J hy the

p I R''SrLASTll'(,

1111

METROrOL.E

'>p.1n1ards '1J the ( Jn.rv louth America and rhe beginning of the Orinoco River in Vcnc7.ucla 10 1he ba~e of Chile and ye1 be given nothing more ch an a "secure retirement" surrounded by "impervious forcs1s ." ., There are also declarations like "] will seclude myself if possible from the World, in the midsr of Empire" followed by fa11ras ics of rhc Incas and 1licir "gentle empire" in the Andes, the "appearance of Ontario and Niagara, when first discovered," and rhe "expeditions of Columbus, Cabral, and [de] Soto."" 4 In another lener he invites Cozens to join him in "rhe peaceful Palace and woody hills" char "shall bound my desires" and where he and his tutor might fancy themselves "rec:illed ro rhar primeval period when Force and Empire were unknown." \Xlhat is produced by these seemingly opposed fanrasy cartographies is nor a reversal of history or an ancicolonial vision buc one empire, rhe eighteenth-century British Empire to which Beckford's fortune was scaked, relandscaped into anorher one, a personal empire sufficienrly forrified ro ensure an idea of genealogical and racial purity and yer elastic enough ro encompass monuments ro and vicarious experiences of the firsr colonial exploits in the Americas. This personal empire of fa nrnsy, furrhermore, neither exacts responsibilities nor implicates its subjecrs. However, it covers a rather specific geographic and historical map of defeared and pasr empires over which fantasy may hold

Figure 28. W. I lughc~ aficr ~- W.. A Vieu• oft hr Srmrry of1/.r Amcrir.111 /'/,111111111111s . rngr.l\·ing. in John Ruuer, /Jrli11ett1io11s nf Fom/111/ 11r1d Ifs Ahhl')'. 83. Cour!C>)' of the Hare Book. ~lanll\cript ..rnd ~peciJI Collect ion\ Library. Duke Uni \'Cri.i ty.

TRANSrLANTtNG

t llt

MrTROl'OLf.

d onl1n1on \Vil h out t I1~ 1ntrus1ons an d comp I1cat1011s o f pres C m conAicts: "lnstrad of nuking nw\ell ma\lcr of the political state of America. instead of.forrnir.'g wise plans IC\ fururc sub1ec11on or cakulatrng whcn Spain will follow her Neighbors example, I will read. talk. dream of the Incas, of their gentle empire, the solemn worship of the Sun, ihe charms of Quito and the majesty of the Ande,." ., \X'h1lc imagined travel urneraries, Aights o f fonrnsy covering cite expanse of the glo~. provrde the narrative line for a number of these leucrs, ease of movcmen t and the pre•urned right of a((eS\ take place within 3 garden archirecture of enclosure as lrcelll( and protccuve forufication against not only present responsibilities but, I ':'.ould suggest. certain kinds of mixture. The fantasy of Aighr above "this dirty planet and protected descent to rest "upon the summits of solitary hills enclosed by impenemible forests" srructures one of the episrolary fantasies written ro his cousin Lou isa, Mrs. Peter Beckford. \Xlrincn five yeMs later, the lcner fcarures t he you ng "Kitty," or \Xlilliam Cou rtenay of the "Courtenay scandal." whom Beckford imagines he and Louisa carry off rn a hot-air balloon. The Right is not merely an imagined adventure elaborated around the then foshronable sport. The libidinally invested fores1 enclave becomes in chis letter a specificall)' colonial fantasy of comact and immediare submission:

r?'

The pe-a.sa.nc:s .tnd ~"1v.tgts. anniba.ls and pign1u:~. or \vhatcvcr you please--for who k.noY+'S in

wh>i region we m1gh1 dcsccnd?-nruck by our supcrrrntural appearance would prosrrnrc them· \elves at our feet, .ind offer our Godships the best fruiu, the richest creams. the brownc;,t bread, and the mosr dcliciou< vcni5on .... My imaginJtion i< •o possessed with thi> delightful illusion th>t I scc:m to hc.r the rustic of the boundless wood mixing with the roar of• waterfall and the .tccl.ilJ11ations of 1hc ~'·;ages '6

The world ~rond il1e island of England is not imagined as uninhabited but rather as waiting in welcome with a retinue of Others. \Xlithin this woodland empire of fantasy, the white propertied European docs not colonize by force or labor but rather by a grotesque dream of appare111 and immediately visually di scerned supcrioriry before which thole differentiated by cla>> ("pca1.1nts") and suppo:.cd "r.1 Jnd rcl.111d\C.1ping projects arc libidinally charged >itc> promising both tmttact with ;ubmi ;;ivc Otlwr' .md hirru· doical di>einction. I tum now to thmc on who;c labor 1he production of the h yhridi~ed landscapr depended. The cflcct of l\Jtur•lncss that the tra1Hplan1cd and hybrid11ed piuurcrr.un 111 the b.ickground and the black slave driving the cattle-drawn wagon, the OVft• .JI composnion. '' inding lane. and vegetation are rendered to make the Jamaican sugai plrnranon look as much like a fantasy of rural England and the Netherlands as possible. The ett~t of this hybridization of place was co be one of "moral pleasure." Beckford of $Qmerle,· writes. The fuwl-house and the poultry-yard ofa plantation will cerrainly have charms for a Ducchman's eve: .rnd l c.mnoc help thinking thac 'arure, in her mosr rural and simple scenes, is, while imer-

t:Sting. replece "; di moral plea.sure.. .. There are few people who love narure, and who cake .l ddighc in the simple operarions oflik. who are nor parcicularly and morally pleased with che barn. che d.iiry. .ind the farmers rard.S'

This material grafting of yet another idea of island paradise, rhe idea of the moral and aesthecic value of rhe rustic furmJand of rhe island of England through the ordering frame of Durch landscape conventions, worked to make not only the spectacle of colonization aesthetically pleasing buc also the enjoyment of colonial exploirarion morally juscified. ,__.---The sugarcane, though an acknowledged "exoric," became through transplantation \ both the produce and the moral emblem of the colonial plan ration sysrem such that Lhe ~ sugarcane plancation was ro seem, paradoxically, nor only like an indigenous, organic part of the landscape bur also a nurruring, fertilely reproductive female body under the nominally benign disciplinary control of the colonial planter's plough. "As an objecc in the landscape, much may be said in its [the plough's) rural praise," writes Beck.ford of Somerley in his Descriptive Account. He paints a picture of seeding the furrows drawn by the plough in the "bosom of the soil ... that universal parent char gives hn-children sustenance, and which ar lasr, as Pliny observes, receives them again after their dissolucion into her maternal bosom; and which is constantly giving food co rhe industrious. or receiving inco peace the persecured and unhappy descendants of the human race.. (emphasis rnine).56 Though Beckford of Somerley proclaims that the sugarcane is a " rich and singular exocic," he quickly qualifies char "there is not a single inch rhac is not converted co some use. ·-s- Furrhermore, ch rough effective transplantation, the ''exotic.. sugarcane could become both the produce and emblem of che "life cycle" of the coloni.11

TRANSPLAN1 INC TllE METROPOll

71

pl:tnration, that is, the organ ic offspring of che colonial hybrid landscape under the controlling agency, however, of che white male planter. He writes, "I shall take it [the sugarcane] up from its most early plantation, and trace it through its various progre~5. until it shall be again returned to enrich the bosom of that ~oi l which brcamr it5 p.ucnt and irs nurse" (emphasis mine). 88 In contrast to the transformation of che crnlavcd African from human to sapling or tree, colonial transplantation transformed the sugarcane from plant to human child. At the same time, che (re)production of the sugarcane is scenarized to appear as eternal and as natural as heterosexual reproduction was, in turn, carefully represented , through the language of piccuresque landscaping, to be. In the summer of 1779, Beckford of Fonthill mec the young William Courtenay of che so-called Courtenay scandal while Beckford was on an instructional tour through England in the company of his tutor. In Beckford's subsequent letters co and about Courtenay, woodland scenarios, like rhe "woods of Pan," served as a protected space for Beckford's libidinal fantasies. Another cype of garden oasis, a deep, dark grotto "sunk in the centre of the Earth," crossed by "several bubbling screams" and susrained by the characteristic iconography of a colonial tropical Eden, coconuts, forms the mise-en-scene for anocher imaginary encounter conjured in a 1779 letter co Courrenay. 89 However, it was the language of pastoral verse-and specifically rhe image of "possess[ing] the pipe of Hermes"-that was used as a private code within which to refer co a potential cryst with Courtenay. 90 Pastoral rrappings, the pipe of Hermes, the woods of Pan, flocks of sheep, cows served the double function of encoding homoerotic desire and of publicly visualizing char encrypted desire within a misc-en-scene that has historically signified innocence. Beckford attempted co dispel scandalous rumors with the same pastoral idiom. He and one of his closest friends, L1dy Elizabeth Craven, produced a paswral operetta for which she supplied the libretto and he the music char they scaged ac Queensberry House wich children of che aristocracy as acrors. 91 Then in 1783, in the midst of rumors, Beckford of Fonchill married Lady Margaret Gordon, daughter of the 4th Earl of Aboyne. In 1784 Courtenay's uncle invited Beckford and his wife to visit rhe family at Powderham Castle in order co fabricate a pretext for a false accusation char Beckford had been found with Courtenay in the larrer's room. Complaints of "unnatural conducr'' were spread by Courtenay's uncle co che pres~ jusr a1 1he rime that Beckford of Fonchill's name was listed as one of chose to be made a new peer, a baron. The peerage was revoked, and Beckford became :t soci:il pariah. Though he could not sue for Iibcl because his leucrs ro Courtenay might h:ive been read in evidence, there sti ll remained rhe culturnl and political uses of he1erosexu:il reproduc1ion .1nd colonial rran~plantarion. Beckford and his wife had two daughters, Margaret in 1785 and Sus:in in 1786. Beckford's wife died of a fever very soon afrer rhe birch of their ~econd child. In 1787, :t pastor:il engraved view reprcsenring the Fonthill estate as it w:ts before Bcckford'i, m:tjor 1ran\pbnra1ions (Figu re 29) was produced by J. M. \YI. Turner for William Angus'i, 1787 collecrion of "selccr views," The Seats ofthe Nobility and Cemry in Grrnt Britain and \~ales. In the foreground may be discerned a seared man, whose profile

J -.i.

I R \~\I' I \ \; 1 IN(;

I 111' :0.11 T ll 0 I' 0 I I

n:-..111, th.u of 13cckforJ of hmdull. g.11ing up .H •1 young boy pl.1ying a pipe who rl·,cmh\e, \\ 11li.1m Courtl'n,1y llw ,,1111 c.: ,.e.ir Beckford initi.11cd a vi~it to hi~ sugar plan-

1.111on' 111 l.1m.1ic.1 bur m.1dc 11 only ·" far •1 ~ Porrug.11. whcn.: he remained for ~o rear\ 111 the comp.my of rhe .1ri,rou.1til t\l,1n,11v.1 t:imil)'. who hoped 10 111.1rry off their daugh 1c.:r. At thi~ ide.1, Lady Cr,\\'cn l:Oumded, " Do not uinr yourself with Jewish. Moorish hlood .... Do anything for Cod'~ ~.1kc.: hu1 misally yourself rhus- use rhem ro your purpo'c hut never tie yourself w Negro I.and.'"'~ A~icr six more years of rravcl on the Continent, Beckford returned tO England and bcg.111 h1~ rranspbncacion of Font hill not merely inco :i colonial hybrid with the effect of pnme\'al Englishness bu1 moreo\'er imo a fantastical yet material, emblazoned family 1rel' of un~sailable scale. E.1ch of the main galleries and rooms of the abbey w~ dedi,,11ed m rhe presenrarion of the rc.11 and invenred heraldic and genealogical nonces of the Beckford family. For example, the prints from Britron's Grnphirnl 1111d Liurnry Illusmmons ofFomhill AbblJ detail rhc pagcamry schemes of the srained-glass windows. Those ol rhe St. Michael's Gallery were a focal poinr. This gallery. which led off the Gallery of Edward 111, endeavored ro trace Beck ford's descent from the Kn ighcs of che Order of St. t\'1ichael and Beck.ford's family to James II of Scotland. Ccncral ro rh is archirecrural

rigur~ 29. After J.. M. W. Tu.rncr, Virw ofF0111hiff .\iilmdms. cngr.iving. in \Xlilli.1111 An gm. Srt1u 1if 1/ir Aob1'11)• and Gr111ry m C.rml llr1111111 ,,,,,/ lflflln (hlingwn, 1787). l 'nurww of Durnlurrnn Oak~. )wd1c' 111 Landscape Architecture, \Xf.1'h111gton, DC. ·

T R \ ~ 'I' I \ 1' I I ' t, I 111

\I I 1 R 0 I' P I I

rmmuml·nt ot ennoblement ".l' lk.. ktorJ\ \oungn tl.111gh1.-r \ '' ori\ nurnai:r It• \In .mdt·r 11.umhon. the 1och Duke ut I IJnuhon . In lnntrJ,t. hr' c dnt d 1ui;l11rr \br~rct "JS l'r.t,nl .md rt-chnqened 111 lkl klord' prr\ Jll' ltlf rl''l"'"drnH· ,\I 111< l lul urr or tilth. tor her elopement \\ 11 h tht· un111lnl l .cnnJI IJmt'\ OrJ,., \\ hJt 11111 ""rid ~"' 1hrou~h tht• \\mdo"~ wa\ as 1mport.u1t J\ \\h:lt ''·" ,-mhl.111111l landscape ~arden ar Mereville and its funeral monument ro Cook that, in irs location on the periphery of the garden, he inrcrprers as marking rhe limir by the ~ign of the limirless. Bann reads the monumem as a "shifrcr" marking. as it opens, the hound.irv h1 iti reference to the breaking of limirs in Cook's circumnavigation of the glohe. '' I lowcvcr !>tducri1·e such "shifty" sigm mJ)' be and however dcsir.1blc we Ill.I\ !ind th11 picture of the moment of discovery and firsr cncounrer shaping private mcmon.1h1.111on. monument~ in rhe picturesque landKape garden like tha1 of rhc mcmon.11 ro Cool.. worked rJther IO displace and rranw.1lur the \CmJnric recoil of ano1hcr \Cl of \LC:lll'\ th,m rho\e of Cook rounding rhe rwo polc:1 of the globe: .1nd then meeting hi, ,·nd on rhe finr cm:ounrcr banks of the island of Hawaii in '"79· It W,L\ rhc "contact zone" nor but of colonial sugar plantarion and bl.1tk ~IJvc labor rhat coiled baLk ro ,h,1pc: the very

or

TRllNSPLllN 1 lNG Tlll MP.TROl'Cll P.

75

heanl.rntl of empire. chc hcnch councryside. I am Jrgurnl\ 1ha1 1hc hcnch pic1urc~uc land\Capc garden's principle function was 1he pocuc rcs1w1ificacion of empire by the cranspo,ition of the "semantic recoil'' of chat other colonial itincr.1ry, chc interests of which financed chose much vaunted "voyages of discovcry"-the tn.mgul;ir cradc ofluxury good< from h~ncc, sl.wc~ from Africa, and sugar from 1hc rrench Caribbc.lll. While the rhetoric of the picturesque landscape garden aniculaced colonial expansion as the breaking of limits and discovery, its compositional and scman11c suuctures were based on :i series of transplancations by displacement. Consider chc verses embla1.oned on the comb to Cook at Mcreville, wh ich claimed 1hc navig:uor as a fellow ciciu:n of France. These were caken from the fourth and final canto of che abbe Jacque~ Odille's book-lengch poem Les jardins, 011 /'art d'embrllir lrs papagrs: poeme (Gardens, or rhc Art of Embellishing Landscapes: Poem, 1782) written a few years before Laborde began his landscaping project and just after 1he French viccorics in chc British West Indies in the American War of lndependence.9 ) The poem fabricates an ideal garden but in so doing also lays out the emblematic ideal of empi re as anticonques1-1he piccurcsquc lnndscape. At the core of chis image of empire as piccuresque landscape garden is the furm. The concluding canto moves from 1he French countryside to the landscape garden modeled in a vision of perfect harmony such that 1he garden is blended with the rural environment and rhe farm is in the garden. The transplanted and hybridized landscape of empire becomes an emblematic barnyard inhabited by birds of different species and origins; all, however, united hierarchically bur peacefully under the same roof of slate, tile, or thatch. "F:imily, natio n, republic, kingdom," Delille proclaims, At their head is J cock, father, lover, happy chief, Who, king wi1hour ryranny, sultan without indolence ... To the laws of valor joins tho«~ of ~aury, Commands w11h gentlenes,, orcss.:s wuh pride, And does all for pleasure. for empire, and for glory UJVe,, comb.1t\, triumph,, Jnd sing> his victory.%

A1 1hc hearr of chis allegorical conMruction of the landscape of empire is the imperial courr as familial barnyard. There in a pyramidal microcosmos arc 1he patriarchal family, then 1hc nation, the republic, the kingdom. and finally 1he glory of empire produced by the farm as a discourse of private affection and naturali1cd bonds of servicude. Presiding over chis lanchcapc image of empire as anticonqucst is 1hc cock, French nacional symbol and emblem ol phallic, Salic law. The poem 1hen extends to the imperial periphery but in 1hc form of voyages 1101 of conquest, but of cultivation. "Bra\•e Cook~ is imagined a~ the new Trip1olcmus, 1hc Eleusinian monal who in classical mychology was sent round the world in Demeter's chariot teaching rhe arts of agriculrurc: You above all. hr.we Cook. who. deJr to all heam. Unue 1n rhe1r rc:grrt Fran•e Jnd EnglJnd;

I R " · ' r l AN llN(, I Ill

1 ''

ll

\II rROPO I I

"h'"' 1n lh obtccn of hc.i~ty: "h " \LH" (112). No longer frncc~. d1ey bctomc trl'C'· 1h.1t ''· .1 rcproduu11111 .md c~tcn\11111 of\, hat i' .tlrc.u.I\ thcr r.ul>rr a pale 1han a hedge, and d1crc was scarce room to put a hand through ~l\\'C'C'erLI ,upr -~""·hut \\ild. and for \\,\Ill or cuhi\acion. imperfect I contented mncu· with chc...: di~Cl\CI· 1c- tnr chi< 11mc. and came back musing with myself" hat cou~ I might take co kno" chn inue ind goodness of any of the fruit> or plants which I \hould discover, but could bring 11 w no conclu,ion: for. in shon, I had made so little observation "hilc I was in 1he Brasib. 1hJ1 I knc" liule of the plants of the field, at least \'Cry little th~t might serve me to any purpotcrs of grape> were just now in their prime. very ripe and rich" (10s). Found ripe and reauy 10 pick from the vine, d1c~c nalllrally growing gr.1pcs cured to make raisins take the pl.ice i11 the novel of cu hivatcd >ug.ir :1> .1 sou rer'· unlike 1ugJ1ca11c. never bcc:.1111e .ied i111.11 i1cd to 1hc C.uihlw.m.' 1 \'\/hil l· th(' 1111\d lun· i;hc> the cxpcricnu· hy which Crll\oc would luvc hccn t'11,1hk•d Ill 1cu1µni"· die '").\·tr c.111e pl.1111,, the siglu of dll· vine gr.tpe> urnj urc' .1 vn1• fH t'ral Ba.Jud: o l • man b ckmi; ""i;nur" :m.J 1hcrcln11:" "unht " t.u tlw ".11.l111•ll' ,,.._..iuon 1>! marnag«." ot a m1 "'mJ.111r.I 1u1al a 11,l l1·rr ~n C\ I' 1r11ce "h1d1 "'.as " ' ma.kt" Im \ht'm tonc.-\' OK t \':l llOll\ o l IK"- IC't\'

lfT111r " ' •1h' " h lr h I• 11111111" I• '

lr1d1' l llll:'nt\ •JI \ hr 11\fn 11r> l11r and lrrmr ,....,,,, 11111111111hC' umr 1r rr11'

111 • nu\lm' and ,a,

tl1r d rlC'rt\C'\

pr1.J11u1\l l\ 1crrn• li.nr1n •, lc111l111 i cn u• J., k, 111111" '""" plr.11111 r, .an.I 11;i1u1.al •'C'r •m 11h.an 1~mu11, ')•mud l·•hn,oru / 1/r r/ \i1r11 roru (1~~1) " h.-.tl1 .a ..-~11 h ti •1 .irt .a,1111'

oh1= •nd a ..nn1trU• ln:l lmtnn I' .111• i.... I.. 111. lur.llioo d o t j>c'1''C'lloC' •ul.. uruunm and •U~nlc Ur.mom 11 wl11..l1 ponn and mruplwn ktnh1u1...dh •Uh•t11u1nl ! nr ;a.u1a! p«• plr ind tnr a nutc It l>q:Jn• ,.,th ~n o !! ll"f'C'"tl"ll .anr..lotr

hgurc SI Lnknm\ n Mtl\I, fronmpoccc. on Rohcrc l>rnhln. !hr II i>rk, m \mr .md l'm.•r ~f \\ 1/b,.m .\hm11011r, vol I (IAnulon, 1~64). hnm 1ht· top\ 111 th< R.11c llnok Colhuon. l'111vrNI\ of Nnrrh Carolina ar Cl1.1pcl I 1111

I 1!:111(.'. \.! l '11kth1\\J1 .ltll\1, Ill 1111 ,,, \hfll'-h•IH Ill\\ dl1.t 111 ,,h,_'U'-l,\l\l'. I •\+It'•"· \/rtJ ,,. ,J _\/,,,,,,,, 1n l{11l'k·r1 [ l1l(l .. lt \ I 111 \\,,,A, ''' \,.,.., .1,11/ ,r\•nr 1/ U 1//1,1111 \l•rn1101,r '~'I .' ~I ,,n,if"ll l""l'-4 • I\: I ,,1111 11.l· "-''I'\ 111 1ltt J{.11t l\,,..1k < ,,11,...,,.,,, l ·n,,, ''"\ 111 '''''" < .,,,,1111.& .u \ h"'r"'' 'till

• SOME QUEER Vl! RSJON\ OF GEO RGI\

lk !Shcn>tom·J recC'ivcJ '11d1 dclii;ln from hook~ that hew." ,1Jway< calling for frc,fi cntcrt.1111· lllfllt, .Hld CXJleCICtJ th.ti when .my of the r.unify Went to market J llCW book \f10ufd a)(• hroupll lum. which when i1 c.1 me was in fonJncs< c.micd to Im! ,111 d J,1i rhe righ1 is the gardener's cottage. and he1wecn 1hese two srruc111rcs toward the background is rhe archway leading to the farm. In the foreground is the garden of the boudoir. A man, perhaps a gardener,

f.'igurc 59. Van Bl.ucnhcrghc, Virtu ofrhr (~ul'mi Houdoir, Hnmrnu d,. /11 Rrmr, 1786, reproduced m ( .u~tavc Dcjardim, U Jina Tiwnoll' l-liJ101rr l'I l>rscr1p11011.

1111111 ,uurc.

•

SOM I

QUEER VERSION~ ()I C.EORGIC

prtSCnts a bouquec 10 a wom.m. The other woman nex1 10 her pull~ at her sleeve and mo1·cs close co her face, to whisper in her ear or perhaps for a kiss. A\ a ~ui1e 1hese snuffliox scenes represent 1he ambivalent srructuring and signification of 1he orn:11nen1cd farm. Scenes of labor and images of t he frui ls of 111:11 labor, childhood games, and 1he iconic representation of Loui~ XVI and the dauphin reinforce the ln1111r1111 .1s a si1e of Jgnculmral production .1nrlleuwn

\0'11

f1l11 I It VI ll\ION\ 01

(,I ()J((,I(

\\cl,hnl'\\ but who 1dcn11ficJ w11h till" I ngl"h uown and .uln11rcd 1'1tt, as women "ho \\Orl' men\ riding h.1h1t\, u1l11v.11nl .1 Jenne ornle together, .111d whose passionate hnml "·1' lclcbrJtcd. 111 \X'ord"'mth\ phr.l\C, for example. as th.11 of "'li\tcrs in love," P1m\onh1 .ind Butler 1ran\\'C\lcd .ind un\\cd over or "travcr\ed" 10 bcc.ome sister-like l'\l'mpl.ir\ ol 1he Union of 1800 hctwc1·11 Great Britain (Walcs. ~cotland, and England) .111d lrcl.111J. "~ As Seward would write to Ponsonby and Bude1 in 1801 to congratulate die Lidie\ on 1hc parliamentary pron:edings by which rhe "provincial dependence of Ireland on this country" wa\ secured, 1he independence and self-legislation of Ireland had, IO 1heir "mutual relief and joy," ceded way to whar Seward expre\sed as the "nobler cb1m of \i\ter amiry." 1" The extent co which Ponsonby and Burler's relationship could be used 10 represem Br1t1\h I mpire as a romantic, peaceful, and emotionally bonded union depended on che l-1d1es' rebcion co land. Lauded as vestal virgins joined by sister amiry, they represented chem\clves and were represented actively tending a georgic Eden like the one imagined for 1-. ngland in Milton's Paradise Lost (1667), chat is, the imperial nation as a garden in which work, and specifically agricultural labor, has a central place. Elizabeth Mavor has tried w argue chat Ponsonby and Burler's relacionship could remain "Edenic"-a combination of "rural innocence :ind simplicity wichour lack of comforr and culture; freedom from unbridled passion with no loss of pleasure"-becausc relacions berween women had not yet been "biologically and thus prejudicially defined.'''~ If anything made the Ponsonby and Butler relation Edenic, it was their own efforts to materially represent their relationship to each other through land, their garden-farm m Wales and their cultivation ofic, as an actualization of a Milconic and mythic georgic Eden. In 1798, che year Napoleon's army landed in Ireland, che Ladies began work on what they named cheir "poracoe garden." Into this garden in Wales, they transplanted potatoes from Ireland. By the end of che eighteenth century, chis South A1nerican exocic had become inextricable from the miserable poverty of che Irish "potaco-controlled cottier." 1ss In 1801, the year of the imperial "unification" of Grear Brir:iin and Ireland, Ponsonby's distant cousin and childhood friend Sarah Tighe sent rhe Ladies a gift of "apple potatoes," a New World variety naturalized to Ireland but as yet unfamiliar in North Wales, which the Ladies introduced into their garden and distributed to local poor families. 1 ~ The "apple potato," or "Irish Apple," dominated Ireland .11 the end of the e1gh1eenth century, forming not only the principal agricultur.11 crop bu1 1he entire diet of Irish laborers to the cxclmion of all other food sources. In his obscrv.11ions of County Kilkenny in 1802, the year after the "Union," Tighe's son Willi.1111 concresced the forces of poverty and polilical oppression onto the ascend.mcy of du: "Apph: Potato": l'otJtOe">rllc i;cn1·r.1l, 1h1· I'"°' wnllllllC ... C•I 1hcrn un11l Ile\\ pot.HOC\ l OnlC

WJ\

SOME QUEER VERSIONS OP GEORGIC

in. Before their inrroduccion, the conagcrs frequently sowed beans and ocher csculcnt vegetables and had liccle plots somewhat like ::i small kicchcn garden ar the rear of their cabins, but the "Apple Poraco" suppressed everyrhing of the sorr.' 57

Asymptom, not a cause, of "suppression," the apple potato, or "Irish apple," was also a rebel decoy. Under the cover of potato plancing and digging, the United Irishmen plotted a revolution agajnst British ascendancy, seeking French aid in 1796 and finally waging armed rebellion in 1798, rhe year the Ladies created their potato garden. 158 Given the distress Butler records in her journal on learning of William Tighe's sympathy with the Irish rebellion and the Ladies' characterization of it as "diabolical, " the Ladies' sowing of potatoes in the midst of these events cannot simply be dismissed as an odd coincidence-as the Ladies' biographer Mavor does. 159 The making of the potato garden could be seen as a gesture of patriotic nationalism that, sentimentalized by distance, would not be linked with sowing the seeds of rebellion. However, the Ladies' transplantation of the Irish apple to Wales might function as itself a move of unification, merging Ireland into Grear Britain by way of the more neutral ground of this gardenfarm in then peaceful Wales.

While such strategies of cransvestment and transplantation positioned the Ladies' relationship within and as exemplars of an imperial georgic idyll, what they created with their ferme ornee was no less what we might call "queer." The letter of 1796 from Seward co Butler rehearses the commonplace that garden-farms or ferme ornees like that of Plas Newydd unite beauty and utility: "So you have farming improvements on your hands.. . . You, I am sure, will unite the duke with the ucile." 160 The picture chat follows, however, is of the Ladies as phallicized women wielding a wand, a small sign of authority. With a couch of this wand to nature, elsewhere generally figured as woman, it is beauty that is sown from the soil: "Beneath the wand of the enchantresses Beauty scares up in her own form divine, as Satanic grandeur did beneath the spear of Ithuriel." 161 Their relation is here analogized ro that of Ithuriel through a reworking of the lines in Milron's Paradise Lost about one of the junior angels appointed co guard Adam and Eve in Eden. It is he who first encounters Satan in the form of a road, crouching by Eve's car, and restores him to his usual shape with a touch of his spear. 162 The Ladies may have headed their journal of 1798 with the lines "No turbulent Desires intrude, In our Repose-and Solitude. " 163 And Seward's insertion of the Ladies into book 4 of Milton's Paradise Lost as guardians of Eden would seem co reinforce a reading of their gardenfarm as a bulwark or defense for their relationship and for the imperial nation in its banishing of "turbulenr Desires" tliat might, in replacing the heterosexual family and the primacy of homosocial relations between men through women, threaten co overturn the political order that was also a sexual order. However, in the garden of book 4, another fall precedes rhe "Fall" in co sexual difference and the policing of sexuality as a matter of shame. Replaying the classical scene of Narcissus with his reflection, Eve experiences desire before the " Fall" ; indeed, she "pines" for the woman in the water who answers her looks wirh "sympathy and love."•64 While framed as a "vain" deception and self- love or

SOME QUEER VERSIONS OF GEORG IC

love of her likeness, for a brief moment Eve is presenced desiring noc herselfbuc a woman she secs as other than herself. However, a voice quickly incrudes, redirecring her desire for chis ocher woman, chis figure of "beauty," onto Adam. Eve submits and in that submission or fall, she comes to see "How beauty is excelled by manly grace." 165 Thus, when Seward takes us to a paradise lost, that Eden is noc withouc desire. Racher, in Seward's verse, rhe paradise potentially regained in rhe Ladies' garden-farm is che Eden before desire for another woman or "beauty" rums to submission to a patriarchal law in the soft guise of "manly grace." The Ladies' ferme ornee also worked as a site from which, no matter how carefully subsumed into the cultivation of its land and feeding of its "fine cattle" (which in a letter from Seward co Butler "suggest patriarchal ideas which are very agreeable"), beauty as instigator of desire may still have scarred up from these planted beds in her own form divine. 166 Despite the air of magic and enchantment that would seem tO mute and contain such lines as "the peerless Twain, I Pant(ing] for coy Nature's charms" in Seward's poem "Llangollen Vale," the Ladies' figured relation to land materializes something beneath or beyond pleasure harnessed to the georgic plow. 167 I began with the argument chat the related discourses of the georgic and of agricultural improvement- both of which became charged with patriotic fervor and significance during the wars with revolutionary and Napoleonic France, the Irish rebellion, and slave revolt in the Caribbean-provided a means co naturalize, solidify, and value a bond berween women by taking on the forms of the heterosexual division of labor and heterosexual reproductivity. What the case of the Ladies of LlangoUen's Jenne ornee demonstrates is char sexuality and desire, what we might consider che personal and the intimate, were materially, formally, and politically enrwined with the public and the imperial. Through the transvestment of the happy cottagers and the georgic Eden of imperial myth, Ponsonby and Buder symbolically and actually naturalized and cransvalued their relationship to each other, to nature, and to the imagined nation. I would argue chat British imperial nationalism cook root and was reproduced through just such seemingly eccentric and "extraordinary" projects as these.

chapter 5

C OUNTERCO LON lAL LAND SCAPES

CONTEST I NG THE TERRAi N

or

IMPERIAL LANDSCAPING

Within current postcoloniaJ theorization and cririque of landscape and picturesque aescheiics in the conract zones of empire, such formulations as "black resistance landscapes" or "councercoloniaJ garden" would seem to be concradicrions in terms. I propose, how"·er, chat "landscape" be understood not merely as a European genre of painting and gardening or technique for the production of imperial power but al.so as a vital but o\erlookcd medium and ground of contenrion for councercolonial strategics. Bernard Smith's 1960 scudy European Vision and rhe South Pacific was the firsr ro argue chat European developments in landscape reprcsenracion were profoundly influenced by the lus1ory of colonial empire. 1 Working with the diverse visual documents produced from Captain Cook's first scientific voyage to the South Pacific in 1768 through the nineteenth cenrury, Smith elaborates the thesis rhar the dominaring categories of rhe European sciences of botany, zoology, meteorology, geology. and geography were used as a means 10 apprehend rhe "cypicalicy" of the alien environments. Out of the effort to bring these environments under control by their survey, categorizarion, and description, Smith assercs chat the predominant nineteenth-century mode of "typical" landscape emerged: a landscape painting practice based in a claim co local truth chat would evoke an emouonal investment on the part of European viewers in the land European colonization had alienated from its original inhabitants. More recenr critical studies such as the South African novelist and literary scholar j. M. Coeczee's White Writing: On the Culrure of Leners in South Africa (1988) and the coUeccion of essays landscape and Power (1994) edited by W. J. T. Mitchell have begun 10 incerprc1 landscape nor as an object but as a specifically imperial process through which relations of power and social and subjccrivc idcntiries arc formed and ycr made 10 seem organ ic and eternal. 2 Coeczee's study of European antagonism toward indigenous languages and conceptual categories, and colonial efforts to assimilate rhe resistant 1errain of Africa into descriptive languages of concrol, explores the creation of two rival

COUNTERCOLONIAL LANDSCAPES

dream topographies of European colonization: the domesticated social ordering of the pastoral landscape in which black labor had to be obscured to satisfy critics of colonialism; and the myth of empty space, Africa as a "terra nullius," a space emptied of problematic indigenous resistance and opened to claims of possession. While Coetzee's work focuses locally on European colonial strategies of relandscaping South Africa, Mitchell's contribution to landscape and Power makes the larger claim that "landscape is a particular historical formation associated with European imperialism." 3 However, he qualifies this assertion by insisting that landscape cannot be understood as a cool of imperialist designs bur is rather more like its "dream work" disclosing "both utopian fantasies of the perfected imperial prospect and fraccured images of unresolved ambivalence and unsuppressed resistance. "4 Mitchell's formulation of imperial landscaping as potentially internally subverted by its own ambivalences and resistances of form owes a debt co postcolonial theory and specifically the work of Homi K. Bhabha. In the series of influential essays collected in his rethinking of the grounds of colonial authority, The Location of Culture (1994), Bhabha demonstrates how the colonial project depends on mimetic representation-the dissemination of models of its ideal self and on the translation, through representation, of the Other. However, this need and desire to at once make copies of its ideal self (and here we might think of picturesque or pastoral landscape gardens) and yet grasp and represent alien flora and strange topographies makes strange and threatening double or mixed visions that Bhabha argues menaced colonial authority from within its own representational system.5 Landscape, however, is still hardly a popular concept in postcolonial studies. Postcolonial theory supplants "landscape," understood as an already colonized term, with the concepts of"space" and "place." The recent collection Text, Theory, Space: Land, literature, and History in South Africa and Australia (1996) identifies landscape theory and practice with "colonial space" as represented through the eye and the pen of the European beholder. Although, as the editors Kare Darian-Smith, Liz Gunner, and Sarah Nuttall make clear, "space" may be no less inextricably linked with the production of power than landscape, the conceptual term's abstract formlessness, nonetheless, seems to suggest a horizon of possibility.6 In the work of the Australian writer and hiscorian Paul Career, the idea of "space" becomes a means to access and formulate a counterimperiaJ history out of the traces in the colonial record of a "prehistory of places." In The Road to Botany Bay: An Essay in Spatial History (1987), Carter's effort to dislodge the narrative of discovery and settlement and counter the erasure of the aborigines in histories of the British colonization of Australia involves replacing what he calls "imperial history," which he argues reduces space to an empty stage set on which imperial actors enact great deeds, with a "spatial history" or an accounr of "the spacial forms and fantasies through which a culture declares its presence. "7 In a similar spirit, the editors Bill Ashcroft, Gareth Griffiths, and Helen Tiffin of The Post-Colonial Studies Reader (1995) take up instead the key term "pl:ice," which they define as a site of difference profoundly inAecred by rhe sense of dislocation or a recovered

COUNTllRCOLON IAL LANDSCAPES

193

or invented "ground of being" for subjectivity.H Discussing the transformative impact of llritish coloniz:irion on her native island of Antigua in the New Yorker essay "Alien Soil," chc novelist and gardener Jamaica Kincaid contrasts ''che character of the English people chat leads them to obsessively order and shape their landscape to such a degree that it looks like a painting" with that of "ordinary Antiguans." 9 These Antiguans, she writes, have "such a wretched historical relationship to growing things ... [rhac rheyJ would not find it [la ndscape] poetic (botany) or pleasurable (gardening)." 10 That is, while Kincaid makes the United Srates a place of possibility, her place of writing and landscaping through the creation of a garden in Vermont, the "alien soil" of Antigua and the "tropics" in general remain, in this essay, inalienably colonized ground. The history of forced agricultural labor and post-Emancipation subsistence farming in the Caribbean would seem to make landscaping in the West Indies unimaginable as an aesthetic practice and wurce of pleasure among any but an elite and privileged class. The schema that emerges from these various approaches to the understanding of che cultural significations of land and its uses in the contact zones of empire positions landscape, gardening, and aesthetics on the side of the imperial subject and space, place, and utilitarianism on the side of the enslaved, the colonized, and their descendants. However, if we look not at studies of landscape per se or postcolonial theorizations of space and place but to an essay that asserts that the black women history claims as "artists" did not spring from nowhere but rather from the anonymous and ephemeral "arc" of their mothers' gardens, we find a different model of the seemingly unthinkable relation berween enslavement, degradation, and landscaping as an aes(hetic pracnce among chose mulriply displaced by a garden history based on properry.

"JN SEARCH OF OUR. MOTHERS ' GARDENS" IN REVOLT In the now well-known 1974 essay "In Search of Our Mothers' Gardens," (he African American writer Alice Walker lays our a genealogy, a kind of family tree, rooting her own licerary production through her mother's rwenrieth-century gardens ro rhe eighteenrhctnrury African American poet Phillis Wheatley's published work. 11 Were there nothing beyond this filiation from Walker through her mother's gardens to Wheatley and Wheatley's morher's imagined hut in Africa, it might be difficult to see "In Search of Our Mocher's Gardens" as anything other than a history of heroines in which creative production on the pare of black women features as an anomalous exception and a genealogy mapped back to Africa to derive authenticiry and original difference for the culrural production of African American women. The essay does culm inate with a Phillis \Vheatlc:y seemingly made African by resituating her neoclassic lyrics not in the Americas or in Brirain bur in a clay hut in Africa with her mother's vividly painted strokes on che walls and handwoven mats on the floor. However, Afric.1n architecture and weaving do not give Walker rhe tide of borh the essay and the prose collection in which it circulates. Walker asks, " How was the creativity of rhe black woman kepr alive, year afrer year and century afrer cenrury, when for most of the years black people have been in

COUN 11. RCOl_ON IAL LANOSCAPPS

194

\\as a pum~h.1ble 1..nme for a black person to read or write?" 12 And she .111\wer\-~gardens.'· I he homogenizing term\ of the essay's cemral question-- " wor ks . u33 The view of the slave "garden" produced for metropolitan audiences in such defenses of slavery as Hector MacNeill's infamous Observations nn the Treatment of JVegroes, in the Island ofJamaica (1788) most obviously provided rhe colonial pendant ro che many picture princs of happy British cottagers, char georgic fantasy of independent farmers produced and circulated during che 1780s and 1790s in che wake of aggressive enclosure and che loss of rhe use of common fields. In response to growing agicacion against rhe slave trade in Britain, che slave garden as conjured by MacNeill's "observations" trans· ports che happy British cottagers scene to the colonial sugar plantation. Within close inspection range of the great house or residence of the overseer, rhe "habicarions" of che slaves are described as situated wich "an allotment of ground sufficient for a garden co each house." 34 House and garden quickly sec che scage for the rep lorring of plantation slavery as a situation of health, ease, and abundance: Had any of your thcorccical philosophers, who distress 1hc public and deceive themselves wi1h airborne calami1ies, attended me in 1hc diffcrcm excursions I made 10 cxplorarrc de Saint Venanr in his 1788 booklet "ReAexions !>ur les colonies franS'.alses 1\ sucrc" (ReAcctions on the French Sugar Colonies) cautioned that many of the properties then under cultivation would soon be entirely exhausLed. 12l The 1797 rcvi~ion (Figure 84) of ~lave revolt sets one-on-one slave-mascer

Figure 83. Anonvmou\, August 23-Rei•olr o/tht' Blllclts 111 Sa1111 L>o111111:(11f, 1-96. Cotlt:\.11f1hr Pu1111 oft11p !Tt111(111J //1111l!ttppmed011 A 11K1111 23· 179 1• 1 7')~. e1d1111~. ( ourtn\ of 1he B1hlm1hn1uc Na11011ak· de I rJnc.c. f>Jri\.

COUNTERCOLON IAL LANDSCAPES

233

disappear from the political arena, either. In 1797 the Directory that governed the French empire recalled the Jacobin commissioner Sonchonax from Saine-Domingue and appointed , in his place, General Hedouville as their represencacive. Although Hcdouville had distinguished himself in his pacification of counterrevolution in La Vendee, che Directory sent him in 1798 to Sainr·Domingue on a rather different mission: co check the power ofToussainc-Louverture and his black army. And it was Beiley, among others, who accompanied Hedouville. 127 In i797-98 the prospect of a landscape with a trail of smoke would, however deliberately or inadvertently, have added fire co the image of Saine-Domingue as a plantation garden reduced co cinders used as justification for che restoration of the colonial plantation machine. 128 Returning co where I began in chapter I, that is, to empire not as conquest or even government but as "tableau," or the art of making a pays into a paysage, it was at chis moment that the monumental representation of empire as view, as land and seascape in Vernet's port series completed by Jean-Franc;:ois Hue (1752- ?) in the 1790s, was enshrined as a memorial allegory of the past and a template for the future in the new Musee de la Marine. 129 The series was issued in the form of a set of engravings by Legrand le Lorrain under the empire of Napoleon in 1812, and it is this sec of prints on which I base my discussion. 130 I would like to advance the argument that the project underr.aken by Hue was more than a mere completion of the ports of France series under the commission's initial terms. Rather, the making of the pays into a paysage served the added imperative function of relandscaping or, in other words, using the aesrhecic ordering of the painted scape as a device for transplanting the fields of psychic and social wounds. Seven of che nine additional views take as their subjects sires along the western and especially the northwestern coast of France, char is, port cities chat owed their late-eighceench-cencury growth and prosperity to the Atlantic triangular trade in colonial products: Brest (the subject of three pain rings), Lorient and Saine-Malo in Brittany; Granville in Normandy; Boulogne in Picardy; and Bayonne in the Navarre Basque country near the border with Spain. Far from coincidentally, each port city doubled critically as a naval fortification against invasion from the counterrevolution's European allies, especially Great Britain and Spain. The coastal geography outlined by these views would, at che moment of their enshrinement in 1797, have been ghosted by a map tracing some of the bloodiest theaters of civil war, revolutionary, and counterrevolutionary purges, and the destruction of an entire region of France, the Vendee. Federalist revolt left its mark on Brest and Lorienr. Saint-Malo and Granville would have demarcated the northmosr points of the area of the "chouannerie," or guerri lla resistance, to the Republicans in 1793-94. In the Hue view, the pore and city of Granville (Figure 87) are outlined by flames referencing both the burning of the town by the federalist Vendeens who demolished che fort Gautier and the republican victory of 1793 over "dissidents." le was this latter reference that would have ried this geography of trauma into a possible sign of defensive refortification, for it was in this northwestern area from Calais to Brittany that the revolutionary forces gained one of their more decisively symbolic viccories (1 793) against the federalist attempt to create a coasta l srronghold. 11 1 The Terror and Counreir-Terror and

..., ( CllfN ' I f RC Ot ON I At I ANOS( /11'1 '-

et\·11 war had leh wound~. 1he etfeu' of wh11..h were 1,iill hun!' felt 1n 1-9- A tonnnuing naval bloc:kJde b,, the all1e' exacerh.n('d the\l' field, ol rraum.i. 1urning the fortress pons 1mo \Cene\ of stan auon. 1 lowever. the renewed \1gnificann: of di e pons ol IT.an1..c \cries a1 1he moment of 1797 m:I\' also have had a\ muc:h. 1f not more, ro do wirh th(' impc·n.11 drc:.tm connc:crtng the~e n:l\'al port\ to the wcsrward hori1on of possibiliry and (rc)1..oloni1,.i11on. 1hat is. anocher ghoHing crail of devastation linking the..se imperial trading pori. Matnland France was, of course. not che onh sire of re,·olunonan upheaval. fhe pons of hance \cries do('~ not, however, extend che provmcial periphery 10 ~ainc Domingue, but to Grenada (Figure 88). Hue's view represents the "raking of the island of Grenada." At the cenrer of che composicion. the mountaintop forrifiCJuons are enveloped in clouds of white and black smoke suggesting a trio of incendi.ary volcanoes. Firsr sc1tled hy rhe French, then taken hy rhe British in the ~e\•cn Years' \Var. but retaken hy che French in the American War of Independence in 1778. Grenada was then given back 10 Britain in the Treacy ofVersaillcs (17R1) so tha1 France could keep Sainte-Lucic and irs African trading pons as well as Tobago. The subjec1 would. chu!i. refer back ro a moment rwo decades removed from that of ics execution and exhibition.' 11 The major black revolt of 1795 known as Fedon's rebellion in whi ch 1hou~ands of sbves and freedmen of color (under Lhe leadership of Julien Fcdon, :a freedman of color and a planter) conducted such a

FigurC' 87. l.egrand k Lorrain :1f1C'r Jean l-r.111o;ol\ I luc. Vim• 11(rl1r lhrr 1111d thr c,,.11 of(,'n 1111•1/lr, c-ngr.iving. Ill 1'1crrc-Augu\IC l\h11C' M igC'r. IN pom dr f'rmur. pr1111. p1tr /o•rph I rmrt rt llru (PJrn, 1812). 108. Counc\y of 1hl' I l.1rvartl I 1hr.HI-1860 (London: Thames and Hudson, 1986); Stephen Daniels, Fields of Vision: Landscape Imagery and National ldemiry in E11gland and the United States (Princeron, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1993). 51. David Lowenthal, "British National Identity and the English Landscape," Rural History 2 (1991): 213. 52. See, for example, Osvald Siren, China and Gardens of Europe (Washington, DC: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection, 1990); and Dora Wiebenson. The Picturesque Gnrdt11 in France (Princeron, NJ: Princeton Universiry Press. 1978). 53. Mark Roskill. "The Developing Appeal of Landscape, 1750-1830," in The Languages of Ln11dscape(Universiry Park: Pennsylvania Scare Un iversity Press, 1997). 104-11. 54. See, for example, D. G. Charlton, "Transoceanic Perspectives," in New Images ofthe Nnmral in France: A Smdy in E11ropea11 Cul111rnl History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984), 10534; and Harriec Guesr, "Curiously Marked: Tarrooing, Masculiniry, and Narionality in EighrcenthCenrury British Perceptions of the South Pacific," in Painting a11d the Politics ofCult11rt!: New Essays 011 British Art, 170()-1850, ed. John Barrell (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994), 101- 34. 55. Mary Louise Pratt, imperial Eyes: Travel Writi11g and Tra11smlmra1io11 (London: Routledge. 1992), 7. 56. Todd Porcerfield's recent study of the role of "an" in rhe consolida tion of the "modern French empire" critiques scholarship's investment in revolution as the defining parad igm for French culrure

NOTES TO CHAPTER I

2.47

after 1789 and, hence, its blindness toward empire undemood as anti1helical. but lhe study both obscures connections between the "old" and "new" empires and focuses on French Empire through the encircling boundary of "official culture," which makes empire a metropolitan and unid1rcction.1I phe nomenon. See Porterfield, The Allurr of Empire: Art in the Srrvirt' of Frrnrh lmprnalum, 1798 1Rt6 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1998). On postcolonial critique of "Enligh1enmcnt." ~c Felicity Nussbaum, "Whose Enlightenmelll h It?" in Torrid Zoflrs, 191· 210. 57. On the ports of France series, see especially Laurent Manoeuvre and Eric R1c1h, Joupli Vrmrt, t1t4-1789: Les Ports tk Fmnu (Arceuil, France: Editions Anthese, 1994); E Ingersoll-Smouse. Joseph ~ml'f: Pei11tre de marine (Paris, t916); and genc!ral Thiervoz, "Les pons de France de Joseph Vernet," Nep11111ia, 47-49 (1960): 6-14, 7-18, 8-16. 58. See Sue Peabody, "There Arr No Slnves i11 Franu''.· The Politiral Cul111rr ofRarr and Sln"'''Y ill thr A11rit11 Regime (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996). 59. See Pierre Pluchon. Histoirr tk la colo11isario11 fomr;aisr (Paris: Fayard, 1991). 60. Eric Rieth, "Les Ports de France de Joseph Vernet: Une source rcmarquable pour l'histo1rc de:. techniques nautiqucs," in Manoeuvre and Rieth, 13. I have translated this remark into English. Unless otherwise noted, all subsequent translations are my own. 61. Jan Rogozinski, A Brief History ofthe Caribbrn11 (New York: Facu on File, 1991), 11 3. 62. Sidney Minn, Sweemess and Powu: The Pince ofSugar i11 Modrrn History (New York: Penguin, 1985), 47· 63. Pagden, 76. 64. ~mer de Vatccl, le droir dr ge1u 011 principes de la /Qi na111rrllr, appliquh it la condu1tr l'I aux ajfoirn tbs nations et tks souvemi11s, (Washington, DC: Carnegie Institute, 1916), 3:37. 65. See Chapter 5 of Labat's third volume for his account of sugarcane production (Jean-Baptisre Labat, Nouveau voyage aux Isles de l'Amtriq11t [La Haye, 1714), p11). On the problem of the origin of the sugarcane and its incroduction to the French Antilles, see Henri Stehle, "Quelques misc:. au point hisroriques relatives a !'introduction de vcgetaux economiqucs aux Antilles Fran~aises." Bulletin de la Socilrl d'Hisroire de In Guadefuupe 5-6 (1966): 17-37. 66. Jacques-Fran~ois Dutrone de la Couture, Prlcis 111r la ca1111t et 111r ks moyms d'tn rxtmirr Ir srl auntie~ suivi tk plusieurs mlmoirrs sur k 1ucrr, 111r k vin de cannr, 111r /'indigo. sur /rs Habitations

& sur

!'bat actutl de Saim-Domingue, 2nd ed. (Paris, 1791), 16. 67. Lucile H. Brockway, Scimce and Colonial Expamion: The Rok of thr British Royal Botanic Gardrm (New York: Academic, 1979), 48. 68. Dutrone de la Couture, 150. 69. Ibid., 160. Among the histories documenting rhe horrors of slave life, see particularly Joan Dayan, "Sade, Lejeune, and che Manual," in Haiti, History. and thr Gods (Berkeley: Unive~ity of y(ifornia Press, 1995), 211-19; Gab riel Debien, lrs rsclnvrs aux Amil/rs Fmnr;aisrs (XVIIc-XVllle si~clcs) (Basseterre: Socic!te d'Histoire de la Guadeloupe ct Fon-de-France/Eon-de-France: ociete d'His1oire de la Martinique, 1974); Jean Fouchard, lrs M11rro1u dr In librrtl (1971: repr.. Port-auPrincc: &lirions Deschamps. 1988); Denis L'lurent-Ropa, Haiti: Unt colonie ftanraisr, 1625-1802 (Paris: £ditions t:Harmattan, 1993), 133-36; and Jacques Thibaud, le Temps dr S11i111-Domi11gur: L'esrlavagr rt la rlvolution fra11r;aise (Paris: ~dirions Jean-Claude Lattes. 1989), 17-93. 70. Pere Nichol~on. Essai mr n1istoirr 11at11rrlle dr St. Domi11g11e aver figurn rn taillt doure (Paris: Gobreau libraire, 1776). 51. 71. Ibid. 72. Jean-Baptiste le Pers. Histoirr de l'iJlr rspflg11olr 011 dr S. Do111i11g11r (P;iris, 1731). 1:493; and Louis l:.lie Mederic Moreau de Saint-Mery, Description topogmphiqur. physique, rivilr, politiqur, et historiq11e dr la partie franr;aisr dr l'islr dr Sai111-Domi11g11r, ed. Blanche Maurel and ~1ienne Taillcmitc, 3 vols. (1797-?8; rcpr.. Paris: Socic!tc! de l'Hisroirc des Colonies Fran~i~c~. 1958). 73. I~ J. Laborie, Thr Coffer l'umur ofSanto Domingo (London. 1798). 18.

NOTES TO C HAPT ER 2

Sec Jame:.\ E. McClellan Ill, Colo111nlism and Science: Sfl/nt Dom111g11e 111 the Old Reg1me (BaliiMD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1992); and Moreau de Saint-Mery, 241. Moreau de Sainr-M cry, i24, 724-26, 743. Louis tlie Mcde ric Moreau de Saint-Mery, Remeil dn v11es des limx pri11cipnux d~ la co/011ie ft1111(oise de S11im-Domi11gr1r, grnvlts pnr !es soim de M. Po11ce (Paris, 1791). 77. Moreau de Sainc-Mfry, Descrip1io11, 2 4 1. 78. Ibid., 136. 79. Ibid., 248. 80. Ibid., 300. 81. Ibid., 106. 82. Jacques Cauna, A11 temps des isks asrun: Histoire dime p!A11111tio11 de S11i111-Domingue au XV/lie srede (Paris: tditions Karchala, 1987). 83. P. Fournier, Wlynges et dkouvertes scienrifiques des missionaires 11amralism Franrais a trnvm le monde, ~a XXe sied~s (Paris: Paul Lcchevalier, 1932), 50-52. 84. Le Pers, 2:492. 74. more, 75. 76.

85. Moreau de Sainr-Mcry, Description, 294. 86. See rhe engraving by Benard of Oeconomie Rustique, Sucrerie, in Recueil de planches, sur /es scim ces, /es nrr.s libern11x, et /es r1rts mlch1111iques, vol. 22 of Encycloptdie 011 Dictio111111ire raisonne des scimces, des nrt:s, et des meti1m (1762; repr., Sturrgarr-Bad Cannscatt: Friedrich Frommann Verlag, 1967), pl. 2,

fig.

2.

87. Ibid.

2 TRANSPLANTING THE METROPOLC I. On the picturesque, sec Ann Bermingham, Landscape a11d !deowgy: The English Rustic Tradition, 1740-r860 (London: Thamc5 and I luC" were in the pro;rrtmg rhe lands(apr. ed. J.C. l;:.adc (Ullbcrn; Human111cs RC'S4'uch ~ntrc. Australian National Univorsity. 1987). 78-91. ?S. For a reading of the poem in the comcxt of eighteenth-century land.sapc 1h«ory, \cc Robcn Mauu. "Odille. pcimre, philosophe, et poeic dans lcs jardms." in DrliliL nt-1/ mort>(Clcrmom~rnnd: Presses du CNRS. 1967), 169-100. 96. Abbe Jacques Delille. ln }11rd1m, ou /'an d'mrbtUtr In paywt,a: pomu (Paru: D1dot, 1-81), 91. 9- Ibid .. 10-. 98 Ibid .. 1o8. 99 On tbe Folie Sainte-James and Saimc-Jame>• plamauon l'Habiiauon Castera on Sam1Dom1ngue. = Denise Ounam. Clawlr &udarrl ek Samu-}11mn, trisoner gmlral ek la mannr rt brmrurd'affimn, 1718-1787 (Gcncv:t: Librairie Droz. 1969). 13(,..41. JOO. Bernard Foubcn, ln h11bi1ntiom labortk ii Sai111-Dommgur dam la uconde mo111I du XV!llr rilck. umtribution ii l'histoirr d'Hnw (plainr des Cayn) (Lille: Atelier national de rcp1oduaion des thbc:s de l'Universitc de Lille 111. 199t). microfiche. IOI. For a plan of th" g;irden of Merevillc. L.. Socictc His1orique ct la Municipalnc de \lcrb..Lle. Mlrtvillr ek ill Rlvolu11on ii 11011oun (Le Mee-Sur-Scone: ~itioru Asnancu. 1989). ~:.. I02. Lows Pro1 de Btchaumonr. Mbnoun l«rrt1 pour sen:tr ii /'h11101rr ek la rrpubl1q•r dn lnrrrs m funcr tlepuu MDCCLJ(ff jusqua nos ;oun (London, 1-81)-$9). Jl:rc>-'"). 103. Olivier Choppin de J:rnvry, "Mereville." /'Oerl 181(December1969): J0-41. 8J. 96. 104. Louis lOlic Mcderic Mor"3u de Saint-Mery. Dampnon IOfOK'llph1qur, pl1J11qur. nv1/r, polwque n hutonque ek la pnrtir ftn11ra11r dr l'islr de S11int-Domingur. ed. Blanche 1'.burd and l:.tiennc raillemite (1796; rcpr.. Paris: Socic1c de l'Histoire des Colonies Frant;aiscs. 1958), 3:ir1. IOS. Alexandre de Lo.horde. Dnmption dn nouwaux ;ardms dr la Franu" dr sn "'''mu d1o1traux IP;1r1s: Dcsmarquene. 1808). 101. 106. Rene-Louts de Girardin. Vr la rompo1111on des /"'Y"'!." ou dn m~ns d'mrbrUtr la 1111rurr autour Jn lvb1t41tons. m ;01gn:1nt l'agrlablr a /'u11/r (17~-; rcpr.. \n"d ~.dniom Ch•mr "•lllln. 1991). ·1--i. I07 Laborde. 98. 108. Moreau de Saini-Mery. 11.71. I 09. '>« lknard. Agr1rult11rr, Orronomir Rus11t111r. ftfoulm 1l l·.i11. engravintt. rrprcwl11< ocic1c Hl\tonquc: de Mcrev11le. ~4· 121. For a bier pruucd reprc.,cntation. st-c. for example. Labor~c:. Dn_m~t1011. a~. '~ell as B611r.1cc: Jc Andia, ed .. Cmt ;ardi11s lt Paris et m !le-de-Frm1re (Paris: Dclegauon a I Acuon Arumque de I.a ville de Pam. 1992), 191. tig. 192. 122. The st:uc: 1\ dc: as Colonial Nurseries and Grave\: in 771f Glob.1/ Eithumth Cmtury. ro. Feliciry A. Nussbaum (Balumore. MD: Johns Hopkim Unwcrrd< Crms. UK \mythf:UJt ;o"""l ~ ,,,,,/, 111' 1na1111rrs. rr"1110111a. lr.rt't'1, io1vn1r1nn111. 1111d u·.inn 1{tlv /nJ.1Jns. tr1n\ !:" . 19. Gonulo Fcrn.lnde1 de Oviedo)' Valdes. Sumario de lit 111111m1l l11StOr111 dr las ltidt,IJ, rd Nicol...

dtl Clstillo Mathieu (1131: rcpr.. Santaf~ de 13ogod: lns1i1u10 Caro )' CucrYo, Uni,.rr>iJJJ Jr Bogori ·1o~ T>dco Louno.'' 199s). 10. Stt Richard S. Dunn, St1,(ar a11d Slill'n: Thr Rist oft/,, Plmur CluJ m riv &1,_f.,J, \l;,1 /,.,/,,,, :•~-rz1 (19-2' rcpr.. Nnv York: Norton. 19" 1). 46-14. 11 0.-1d \X'• ttS. Tht \\'~sr India: P.ttttms ofDn.,U.pmmt. Culturt, .zad &wiromrtrnt.tl (}..,"!.' "''" 140: (Cambridge: Cambridge Univcrsii:• [>...,;\, 1987), 90, 16-ns adopted 1hr Gp•nobn """"'"E:'nio 10 de:1enlx the mills"(\'-1800 :Ne" York: llr.uallrr. 1m (~ HICRl\ rhc Je\lrt('llOn 1.1ke\ the lrm t1I J \Cllltfllent.11 tullUlll< 10 < F1[.hue111h (.r11111ry 101 (1973); .md Dori' Y. K.1dl\li, "Co11flic1' 111 N.11urc: L1 Nouvell e H ~lo1~c." in Tl>< L11era1urr of lmagN.' N11m11ivr / 111111.srnpt ftom Jwllf to Janr fyrr (New llrunswick, NJ: Rutger< Unl\·crsm· Pr~" 1987). JI ·S I 4S. Rou,1eau. Jullf. 114· 46. llud . •f' l oul\ Fite M~cl~ric MoreJ u de !>a1111 ~1 ~·)· Dt1mp110111opog1.,1pl11qur. pf.1 11 m•tlr. po///lqur. tt lm1onq11r d, la f'lrllt fam«wr dt lislr dt S.11111-l>.>111111~r. cJ lll•nchc M•urcl .rnJ {' 11eonc !Jillcmnc ( 1 ~96: rcpr.. l'Jm: Sm1~1~ de l'l l"uurc clc, Colonie' h.111\.l"c'· t9sK). 1:24 8. 48. Rml\\c.1u. /11/tt, I\. T/Jr Grogmphy of />mxmon · Afalr-to·Mnlr V:r.a/ &hat'"'' outsidr thr \l*st 11111/ thr Etlmogmphir !tm1gi11a1to11. 1751>-1918 (New York: Ne" York L'nivcr.iry Prc:ss, 1991): Fel icity A. Nu«bJum . Torrid Zo11N: M111u11iry. Sr.-Cmtury E11glish Namllil'N (lhhi mo rc, MD: Johns I lorkins Univcn.ity Press. 1991). Jnd G S. Row.sGlu, "C.nnib:il Discuu"c· rhc Grand Tour. 3.nd I ircr.m I lh• criu c..J 1>r»i>. "'"·for cumple. )udi1h l\utlrr. "Crmcally Qutt1." 1n &dtn n,,, M•ttrr. 121-41; Eve Ko>Or,ky ~dgwitk. "Queer rrrfo1m•ll• I f)': (,'/QI (1991); 1-1l. 11!O1gy. ed. C. J. Anhur (1970; rcpr., London· Lawrence and \Vishan, 1985). 61. 16. Jcanent \\imerson. Arr Ob1ects: fuays 011 Emmy a11d Effromrry (New York: Vintage. 1995), 1s8-6o. 1- \\'imcnon , St:rrnt, rhe Chtrry. 6: and Jeanene Winrer..on. Arr and Lia: A Pirer far Thru Vo1m and a &u.J (New York: \'image, 1994), 16. 18. \\ lmcnon, An Objtcts 158, 169. 19 Ibid., 169. 20. Jeancnt \X'imer. 28o-81. 23. Shcnstonc refers 10 the Laso" cs as "my Ionic farm" in his lcncrs, his rcrm "fcrme om~· defined in a lcucr to Gra"cs on 1.,48: "The French have what they call a parque ornec; 1 iuppose, approaching about as near to a g:trdcn as the park a1 Hagley. I give my place the 111lc of a fermc om~; though. if I had monc\', I should hardly confine myself 10 such decorations as 1hat name requires" (William Shcnstonc 10 Richard Graves. 18 August 1748. in Thr urrm ofWiUiam Shmsro11e. ed. Duncan Mallam (Minncapolu: L:nivcrsn:y of M1nncsou Press, 1939), 117). Sec also Marjorie \X'iUiams, \Vi/ham Shrnstont: A Chaptrr m Etghtunth Cmmry Tm1t (Birmingham, UK: Cornish Brothers, 1935), 35-36. 24. Shen.stone's friend Thomas Hull wrote (ca. 1759), "On the \X'holc, you uc ro look on this swttt Spo1 (accordin~ to it's glorious Master's own Ocscrip11on 10 me) merely as• rum" (cited in John Ricly. "Shcnstonc's Walks," Apollo 110 (1979): 203). Hull'> original manuscript of "Shtnstonc's \'ndsupc: lm•g« ofVenm m I 1i;)nccmh-Ccmury I ni;lnh l'octr" rnJ I m.t "'rt Gudrn1ng. .\1ud1N m Eigl11u111h lnuury lulwrr 11 (19Rt): 36o

.10 l'etcr de Bull>. "The Charrn'd l·yc."

Ill

Body n11d /net m

1/1r

hK/11rrr11/1 C;n111r,. cd Vcroni

Kdlr •nd D< (,anJ~n. 162-1820, nd rctcr \l: 11111 (C.tmbndl!< \I\ \llT Press. 1988). 44 Jl. For the term. l!O• 1.abour. and (;rmu1 or. Thr Mrll·Srrram and 1/v Cut.id;. A Fa6/.r ([ ondon, 1-68).••. .\4 )•mes Woodhou.cs of Hfcminlcy." in 7hr \'(11/dr Cmmry: Effem11111C printed toun. l Im oflic..t silence w.u il}Clf pro\c> cauon for fantasy and im:a.gtn211ve de~rring Jnd !atiric pro1ccuon ~- for nc ,[ 11.t '™''' prc:st.1~1011\ \)·mhol\ ( rom I ..out\ XIV 's IC:IR"· 10 JC'\ I\ c .ind rt'dchnc the: n1un;arc.hy I.i)'l< Exrrprio1111l Woman: EIJJ4brrh Vi:'r·l rbnm anti r/,, C..ltural Polmn ofAn 1011agcr Uni.-lbi is mlurro11 (llUlar libel 1;,,11111 l1111or11111rs 111r /11 11ir tit Al11r1t-A11to111ttrt d'A111n'tl>t, rtiflt Jr Fn111tr faghc tJ1t1on\ 1n 1789). wl,1tt1 conjure\ 1hc ~pc.-..l.ac.lc o( ~·cn1ng ~n.fcn11k orgltl... Ung, 1')9~).

0

1n

NOTES 10 CllArTrR

80. Sec \~'ocbcnu.• Jour11a/ of 1/,, Hurory of Sexuality 1 (1990): 6S-S4; Lcoh Price, "Vies priv~cs ct scandalcuscs: Marie Amoincuc and 1he Public Eye," Eighurmh Crmury: T/Jrory and lmtrprrrnrio11 33 (1 992): 1;6-•t ing1nccrior. guides like this confirmed a• they fueled spccul>1io11.1bo1111he ac1iv11ies "1>1 woulJ u~c pbct 1n tuch deceptive and equivocal 11nic1ures. which would cb1m 10 •pprtl.lch, (\'en .,,,i, 1he '"' "'"mplw.ny of n•lurc buc m nnlcr 10 "1.u1e nacurc's true pk.mire\• \c:c le Camus de \lfuhe>, Dnmptton tin raux dr Ch11111t!ly rt d11 lhlmfll11 (Pans, 178J), 76 81. On tucpmc co11.i~s •nd other ~;1 4tn fabnqurt or fol hes, sec Joh.innc\ l..111gncr, "I ',rchi1cc1mc p.t•lor•le '""' I OUI\ ).''\'1," An tlr fr.m« 111961); 1•o-8. •nd Monique Mo"'"· "l'.iradox 111 the GJrdcn of che con11c li'l IJ1coun Otmide arc che ""'"·"cJ hmk. 1hJ1Chcd roll!. brnken P..,. •nd l>cJ of ha1· for •rnorou\ "'"'I"• wlulc 1m1dc " J ttru of nnrnt•IM !Jnt-"' fe>rnoncJ "11h P"l"l"'RnmJn Jrmor h>r rcprodutllOll\, 'cc \X'1lh;m I lo\\Jt(1h): ~11ng.&)'• c rnuc!:i ~c. !00 g;ei:n "fbc 5< PM~..1in. :9'" ). ---;~. .!8 Dougl2~ \' Ammrong. 01.tl VilJ.zir .....JIN Grr.u Hc1'J,I' ~ A.r::wn~.z! 41'..d HlJ.ur.r"1 £.;c,im1ruzt10'1 ofDr.vc HaU {'fM,,utJQrl. " A 1111 i BzJ j.rrrJu.1 L'ri>J.n£- Lnr>ern::· o: 1flmou Pros I~ , 2nd Lyd1.i. ~l1hdic Pu1•1pht"r, ·nc Lm~~ .md ldc.-:;or.il Role- 0: CM.!Xx= ~.c ari~. 1796), 103. JOO. "Mcmoirc sommairc sur Jes prcccnclucs pratiqucs magiquc~ cc cmpoiso1111cnH:m\," 1756- 1758, Archives N:uionalcs, Paris, quoced in l lowarcl Justin Sosis, "The Colonial Environment and Religion in Haiti" (PhD diss .. Columbia University, 1971), 181. I0 I. Frnnr;oisc Thescc and Gabriel Debien, Un colon 11ionriis ii S11i111-D11mi11xr1e: Jrrm /J11rrl dr Sni111Venn11t, 1737-tSto (Niorc: lmprimcric lmhcrt-Nicolas, 1975), 11. I 02. Moreau de Saint-Mery, 2:618- 30. I 03. Ibid .. 2:630. I 04. Sosis, 181. Sec also Dayan, 251. 105. Dayan, 72. I 06. Moreau de Saint-Mery, 2:631. 107. Ibid., 1:56. I 08. Antoine Gisler, l'esrlavnge mix Antillesfrnncnises (XVl!e-XJXe sieck}: Comribution nu problrmr de l'esclavnge (Fribourg: tdicions Universitaircs, 1965), 79. 109. On che magical capaciry of the copy ro affect che original, sec Michael T.wssig, Mimesis and Alteriry: A Pnrtimlar History ofthe Senses (New York: Routledge, 1993), 47-52. 110. On colleccing as a form of fetishism, see also Susan M. Pearce, On Collecting: An Investigation imo Collecting in the E11ropenn Trndition (Londo n: Roucledge, 1995); and John Windsor, "ldcncicy Parades," in The Cultures ofCollecting, ed. John Elsner and Roger Cardinal (Cambridge, MA: Ha.rvard Univcrsiry Press, 1994), 50. 111. Moreau de Saint-Mery, 2:631. 112. James Smalls, "Making Trouble for Arc History: The Queer Case of Gi rodcc, .. Art joumnl 55 (1996): 25-26. See also Thomas Crow, Em11/arion: Making Artists far Revolutionary•France (New Haven, CT: Yale Universiry Press, 1995), 228. 113. Chaussarr, "Exposition des ouvrages de peincures, sculptures, archicecrures, gravurcs," le Dlcndaire, 1798, Colleccion Deloynes, 117, no. 539. 114. Such stereoryping is noc beyond che indulgence of current scholarship, either. The catalog by Bernier compares Beiley co contemporary ach leces in wricing. See Georges Bernier, Anne-Louis Cirodet, I767-1824, prix de Rome 1789 (Paris: Damasc, 1975), 36. 115. Anon., "Exposition de peintures, sculpcures, architecture, gravures, er dessins," journal d'indications, 1798, Collection Deloynes, 208, no. 541. 116. Carolyn E. Fick, The Making ofHniti: The Snint-Domingue Revolutio11 from Belew (Knoxville: Universiry ofTennessee Press, 1990), 113. 117. Rayna!, s:288; Heccor Venturini, prefuce co Epices et Produits Coloninttx, by abbe Raynal (Paris: tditions La Bibliotheque, 1992), 9. 11 8. Jean Gaspard Lavatcr, Essni sur la physiognomie, destine afaire con11oitre l'homme er a !a faire aimer (La Haye, 1781). 1:258. For studies of physiognomy, sec Laurene Baridon and Marcial Gucdron. Corps et nm: Physionomies er physiologies dam Les nrts vimels (Paris: l:Harmatcan, 1999): Martine Dumont, "Le succ.Cs mondain d'une fousse science, la physionomie de Johann Caspar Lavacer," Acres de la recherchl m sciences socinles 54 (1984): 2-30; and Georges Levi tine, "The lnAuence of Lavarcr and Girodet's Expmsions des Smtimems de {'Ame," Arr B11lleti11 36 (March 1954): 33-44. 119. Rayna!. 5:288. 120. Fick, 111. 121 . See Michele Oriol, /mnges de In Rlvolraion ii St-Domingue (Paris: Coedicion de Fondacion pour la Rcchcrche lconographiquc et Documentairc and tditions Henri Deschamps. 1992), 62-66.

NOTES TO CONC l,US ION

173

122. Jean Barre de Sai nc-Vcnam, Rijlexiom mr le1 colonies [rtm(aim II mr" (1788). 26-17; cited in hanw of !-=on William Escact". 62

Rob11uon Crusor (Defoe), 95-96; as anti-empire, 105, 106, 108-9; Brazil in, 108; cannibals in, 100-10.i; fences in, 97-105; lngmio and, 112-13; miscegenarion in, 105; savanna in, 105-6, 107-9; sugarcane technology and, 112-13; rexr versus illusmnion, 97-105 rococo, 26, 35 Romney, George, 66-67 Roskill, Mark, 27

Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 74, 95-96, 114; Emik,

On rhe Social Contract, ou, La nouvelk Htloise

120;

II4.

Su also Julie;

Rurrer, John, 64-65 Said, Edward, n4 Saine-Domingue, 23-24, 27, 31-44, 77-81, 85, 92, 213. Su also French Empire; Haici; slave revolt Saine Venanc, Jean Barre de, 227 Saine Vincene, 54 Salic law, 75 Sauer, Carl, 203 savanna, 105-6, 107-9 Scocc, Sarah, 54 Sedgwick, Eve, 151 Selkirk, AJexander, 95 Seward, Anna: and che Ladies of Llangollen, 184-86, 188; reincerpretation of Paradise lost,

Simp\on. Jame\, 70