Race and Gender in Early Modern England
Race and Gender in Early Modern England
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide
range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and
facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@[Link].
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at
[Link]
Cornell University Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to
Things of Darkness
He that cannot understand the sober, plain, and unaffected stile of the
Scriptures, will be ten times more puzzl'd with the knotty Mricanisms,
the pamper'd metaphors, the intricat, and involv'd sentences of the
Fathers ...
-John Milton, Reformation Touching Church Discipline ( 1641)
But race prejudice ... is specially persistent in communities that are ethnically
homogeneous, geographically isolated, technologically backward, or socially
conservative, with knowledge and political power concentrated in the hands
of an elite. Such communities feel threatened by national or racial differ-
ences, and their prejudices serve to reassure them, to minimize their sense
of insecurity, to enhance group cohesion. England in the sixteenth and sev-
enteenth centuries was a classic instance of such a community-though its
geographical isolation was rapidly being overcome and its technology was
about to leap forward. ( 133)
Although Fryer pays less attention to England's movement out of its iso-
lation and into its great development as a naval power, I would suggest
that it is England's sense of losing its traditional insularity that provokes
the development of "racialism." 7 This moment of transition-England's
5· For a more detailed discussion of this moment in Wilson, see my essay " 'I rather would
wish to be a Black-moore': Race, Rank, and Beauty in Lady Mary Wroth's Urania," 178-79.
6. Other scholars place England's black presence and its "racial" consciousness much
earlier. Paul Edwards finds evidence of blacks in the Romano-British period. Christian De-
lacampagne sees the origins in European racial discourses in classical antiquity: "Racist dis-
course, as we have known it in Europe since the nineteenth century, did not appear ex
nihilo. It is the fruit-or the inheritor-of other, older discourses, whose first elements can
be located in the philosophers of antiquity and whose course can be charted through the
theologians and scholars of the Middle Ages" (83). Delacampagne's view silently rebuts the
classicist Frank Snowden's more well known position that ancient Greeks did not exhibit race
prejudice. Snowden argues that the common association of blackness with death "does not
seem to have had a negative effect on the generally favorable view of blacks dating back to
the Homeric poems, or to have given rise to a serious anti-black sentiment" (Befure Colar
Prejudice 101), and he concludes that "antiquity as a whole was able to overcome whatever
potential for serious anti-black sentiment there may be in color symbolism" (101). I do not
think that Delacampagne's view necessarily precludes mine. He later states that "the medi-
evals knew nothing of their ancient predecessors'' (84). If he is correct, then it would suggest
that the humanist project and its revivification of classical antiquity would also promote a
belief in "a system of thought that strove to be rational" with its oppressive implications.
Allison Blakely has also challenged Snowden's thesis (xviii, 28g--go).
7· I borrow the term "racialist" from Anthony Appiah, who sees it forming only in
eighteenth-<:entury scientific notions of race which were rooted in the belief that one "could
divide human beings into a small number of groups, called 'races,' in such a way that all
members of these races shared certain fundaniental, biologically heritable, moral and intel-
lectual characteristics with each other that they did not share with members of any other
race" ("Race" 276). While I disagree with Appiah that racialism began in the eighteenth
century, I find his term useful because it suggests a way of talking about notions of human
difference that have political and social effects and that are different from more institution-
alized forms of racism. The idea of absolute separation seems key to this definition, as it is
to the black/white binarism.
8. Knorr, in particular, argues that colonial/mercantile theory was rooted in an antag-
onistic contest based on the common belief that resources were limited and that the gain of
resources by one country always meant loss by another.
g. I use the term "white supremacy" with full awareness of its implications. "Racism"
does not adequately cover the networks of power and behavior we see in early modem texts
that are often not overtly or directly discriminating against or exploiting black people. See
bell hooks, "overcoming white supremacy: a comment," and Doris Davenport, "The Pa-
thology of Racism: A Conversation with Third World Wimmin."
10. We should, however, keep in mind that this language is never without political, racial
consequences. African-Americans in particular have always been keenly sensitive to the di-
nigration of black bodies in Western culture.
11. John Hodge asserts: "In Western societies dualist justifications typically take a partic-
ular form as a consequence of the identification of good with reason, law, and rationality,
and bad with emotion, chance, spontaneity and nature" (g6).
12. Gerda Lerner is particularly cogent in this regard (although I would add to her for-
mulation that one does not need to use the word "race" for the dynamic to exist): "The
essence of racism is to divide the world according to groups with certain political character-
istics, call these groups 'races,' and then classifY them or rank them according to superiority
or inferiority" (92). See also Etienne Balibar, "Racism and Nationalism,'' who sees classifi-
cation as a fundamental operating principle in racism and reminds us that "classification is
presupposed by any form of hierarchical ranking. And it can lead to such a ranking, for the
more or less coherent construction of a hierarchical table of groups which make up the
human race is a privileged representation of its unity in and through inequality" (55-56).
From both views, one can see the placement of people with dark skins on the lowest levels
within a hierarchical system (or the exclusion of them) as a precursor to later, more overtly
racist, scientific classification.
but to Native Americans, Indians, Spanish, and even Irish and Welsh as
groups that needed to be marked as "other." However, I assert that in
these instances it still draws its power from England's ongoing negotia-
tions of African difference and from the implied color comparison
therein. Thus the Irish may be called "black" and an English woman may
be called "Ethiopian," but these moments always depend on a visual
schema that itself relies on an idea of African difference. In practice, this
means that although I concentrate primarily on representations of Africa
and Africans and descriptions of "black" skin, it is impossible to look
solely at a single broad group, for the investigation of one difference
inevitably opens up inquiry into other cultural, religious, and ethnic dif-
ferences. My discussion, therefore, often expands to include Muslims, Na-
tive Americans, Indians, white North Africans, and Jews. During the
period, the designation "Moor" very often stood alternatively for many
of these categories, especially as it became a general term for the ethni-
cally, culturally, and religiously "strange" (Barthelemy 17).
Similarly, I will use "blackness" and "black" to cover both social prac-
tices and cultural categories. 13 I also will use the term "black" to refer to
Africans and African-descended people in England, the Caribbean, and
the Americas. Although this practice might leave me open to the charge
of reifying the very binarism I am trying to deconstruct, I prefer to think
of my usage of "black" as a term that opposes the dominance of white/
light and that foregrounds the role of color in organizing relations of
power. Audre Lorde articulates this position with some sympathy but sug-
gests that it is problematic:
13. It is perhaps fitting that multicultural coalitions in Britain are adopting "black" as a
term of both solidarity across cultures and resistance to cultural hegemony. See, for example,
the preface to Charting the Journey: Radical Writings by Black and Third World Women, in which
the editorial group envisions a solidarity rooted in the experience of exile and colonization:
"Thus began the business of transforming transplanted ways of being, seeing and living-
ways of life both determined by, and opposed to, colonial domination-into a 'Black British'
way of being" (Grewal et al.). See also Stuart Hall's comment on the "Black British" move-
ment and its possibilities for rethinking ideas of race in "New Ethnicities" in Kobena Mer-
cer's Black Film, British Cinema.
Even while I agree with Lorde's reservations about the term "black," her
suggested alternative, "African," carries similar problems. It replaces a
generic term of color with a term of geography that is in fact no less
generic when we think about the organization of communities within the
continent. This usage is particularly vexed for the early modern period,
since Africa, as we see it in modern cartography, did not exist for the
writers with whom I am dealing.
Although, as Lorde points out, I risk erasing very real and significant
cultural differences, for this project that risk is superseded by the problem
of working with representations of diasporic people whose self-determined
cultural identity is largely lost to me. "Black" encompasses the peoples of
the African diaspora without having to make attributions of nationality
and culture that have been erased from historical records or do not ob-
tain in the early period. For example, is an African just brought to the
American colonies "African-American"? Similarly, should African slaves
brought to England (and expelled) before 16oo be called Afro-English
or Afro-British? Rather than negotiate such tangled thickets in this space,
I adopt the simple, albeit problematic, nomenclature: "black."
The critical dismissal of an aesthetic of fairness as mere "fashion"-
and thus not to be taken seriously-overlooks the ways in which "fashion"
also works to circumscribe women. 14 Even scholars of the black presence
in the period who have made the link between the language of dark and
light and the representations of darker-skinned peoples pay only cursory
attention to the ways in which this language, especially in connection to
14. Leslie Fiedler's The Strangt!T in Shakespeare is perhaps the best-known example of a
scholarship that insists on the importance of "difference" or "Others" but denies the racial
politics of this presence; he resorts to complex verbal gymnastics to "prove" that the black/
fair dichotomy is far removed from modem notions of race. In attempting to disassociate
OtheUo from American ideas of miscegenation, he somewhat perversely asserts that the use
of the word "fair" as an antonym to "black" is precisely what indicates that the language is
not racialized. This assertion is bolstered with Fiedler's claim that Shakespeare uses the terms
"hue" or "complexion" when speaking of black or fair and that because these terms derive
from humoral discourse, they are consequently not racialized. Paradoxically, he reads Othello
as Mrican but not as a racial subject: "But this means that for Shakespeare 'black' does not
primarily describe an ethnic distinction (though, of course, Othello is meant to be perceived
as an African, thick-lipped as well as dusky-hued), but a difference in hue-and tempera-
ment-distinguishing from another even what we would identifY as members of the same
white race'' ( 17fr7 1). Fiedler's attempt to explore the idea of the ''stranger'' while resolutely
denying Anglo-American racial formations politically aligns it with more contemporary strat-
egies of erasing race, a point I will take up in the Epilogue. On the Othello question Karen
Newman's essay" 'And wash the Ethiop white': Femininity and the Monstrous in Othello,"
in its upfront acknowledgment not only of Othello's "blackness" but of the way ideologies
of white and black work together, offers a welcome corrective to Fiedler's approach even
though she privileges gender difference over race at the same time that she provides evidence
for the profound interaction of the categories.
sues of gender and property. It finds in the popular black cameos that
circulated in Elizabeth's court a visual analogue to the language of black-
ness in the sonnets and then turns to a specific genre-the black servant
portrait-to examine how Petrarchan poetics and ideas of white power
and black servitude are incorporated into this key signifier of white aris-
tocratic wealth and identity.
The evidence for the black presence, particularly in the Tudor period,
is often gathered from narratives such as this description of an Ethiopian-
English marriage printed in George Best's 1578 description of Frobisher's
search for a northwest passage. Since travel and trade with African cultures
was often not reciprocal (that is, English traders went to the markets of
Guinea and Barbary, but African traders rarely went to England) and
blacks were not necessarily recognized even as a marginalized population
(unlike servants, the poor, witches, etc.), evidence for an African presence
is minimal. There are no extant firsthand accounts from the black Tudor
population. However, the status of black people as curiosities or oddities
meant that they were considered both as individual "cases" and as em-
blematic of a larger group. Best's anecdotal evidence that the blackness
of this Ethiopian man is due not to exposure to the sun but to an "in-
fection" is less important for its evidence that there was racial inter-
marriage in England than for its articulation of the cultural anxieties-
about complexion, miscegenation, control of women, and, above all,
"Englishness" -brought out by the presence of blacks.
Best's attempt to locate the nature of human somatic differences is not
an innocent involvement with the "other." This passage demonstrates the
"binary system of representation [that] constantly marks and attempts to
fix and naturalize the difference between belongingness and otherness"
that is typical of racist discourse (S. Hall, "New Ethnicities" 28). There
are certain value judgments already at work when Best notes the lack of
efficacy of the land and the woman, "neither the good nature of the
clime, neither the good complexion of the mother concurring." Both the
complexion of the "faire English woman" and the clime are characterized
as "good," which immediately positions white/black on the same concep-
tual grid as the good/ evil dichotomy. His formulation also associates Eng-
land with whiteness, because "the nature of the Clime" is rhetorically
associated with the "good complexion" of the mother. To heighten the
threat of blackness, it is paradoxically seen as invisible, as an infection, a
troping that works to naturalize the difference between the black man
and his white wife as well as to demonstrate the seeming vulnerability of
female bodies.
That Best's ultimate proof of the power and stability of blackness is
found not in Mrica but in England, in the marriage of an Ethiopian to a
"faire English woman," indicates that blackness for him really has mean-
ing only in relation to whiteness. This particular passage is part of Best's
attempt to assure his readers that English adventurers will not be affected
by Mrican climates: "Wee also among us in England have blacke Moores,
}Ethiopians, out of all partes of Torrida Zona, which after a small contin-
uance, can well endure the colde of our Countrey, and why should not
we as well abide the heate of their Countrey?" (Hakluyt, Principal Navi-
gations 5:172). This anxiety over the significance of whiteness is also linked
to his concern over the meaning of Englishness. "England" and "Eng-
lish" are repeated obsessively in the previous passage, and the repetition
only heightens the son's exclusion from the category "English" because
of his blackness ("although England were his native countrey"). To in-
clude him in the nation would be to break the desired homology between
land, skin, and group identity, thereby overturning the associations of
England with whiteness and fairness. As Paul Gilroy notes for a later pe-
riod, the passage acts "to reproduce blackness and Englishness as mutu-
ally exclusive categories" (55).
These concerns with the nature and origins of blackness crop up again
and again in Renaissance texts. Fifty years later, Sir Thomas Browne de-
votes three chapters of his Pseudodoxia Epidemica to "the blackness of Ne-
gros," querying "Why some men, yea, and they a mighty and considerable
part of mankinde, should first acquire and still retaine the glosse and
tincture of blacknesse?" (508). Returning to Best's initial inquiries,
Browne uses emergent scientific method to bring to the forefront what
was only implied in Best's text: the opposition of blackness to fairness and
beauty. He ends his second chapter on blackness with a digression on
beauty, indicating that the categories of blackness and beauty are mutually
15. This assumption is even more perturbing when it comes from someone who would
be expected to think more critically about the problem. See, for example, Anthony Appiah's
entry "Race" in Critical Terms fur Literary Study. He claims, "There is good reason, then, to
interpret these Elizabethan stereotypes, which we might naturally think of as what I have
called "racialist," as rooted far less in notions of inherited dispositions and far more in the
idea of the Moor and the Jew as infidels, unbelivers whose physical differences are signs (but
not causes or effects) of their unbelief' (278).
16. The diary of Lady Anne Clifford also records a black laundress named Grace Rob-
inson. Obviously, her presence was more directly tied to labor and contributes to her invi-
sibility. For a discussion of this diary and of the intersections of race and gender, see my
essay "Reading What Isn't There: 'Black' Studies in Early Modem England."
Elizabeth I's attempted expulsion of the Moors in 1596 and 1601, their
significance is belied by their actual numbers. 17 These elusive appearances
resonate throughout the texts of English culture and have an importance
that is belied by the seeming arbitrariness of their presentation. Just as
Toni Morrison discovers in American literature that "even, and especially,
when American texts are not 'about' Mricanist presence or characters or
narrative or idiom, the shadow hovers in implication, in sign, in line of
demarcation" (Playing 46--47), I find that the impact of the Mricanist
presence on white English subjectivity can never be fully understood if
one focuses only on the texts (such as Othello) that are "about" blackness.
In this book I am especially concerned with just those "shadows" and
"lines of demarcation" that Morrison outlines rather than with the more
obvious Africanist presences. I am more interested in discerning the ways
in which the Mricanist presence is embedded in language than with prov-
ing the nature of the black presence in England. In his recent study of
racial imagery in the Dutch world, the historian Allison Blakely finds that
"the existence of color prejudice in a predominately 'white' society does
not require the presence of racial conflict or even of a significant 'colored'
population" (xvi). I too have found that the significance of blackness as
a troping of race far exceeds the actual presence of Mrican-descended
people in England. Methodologically, the existence of blacks in narrative
or fragmentary moments means that this project has been greatly in-
debted to reading practices grouped under the rubric "new historicism."
In particular, the reliance of "new historicism" on anecdotes as narratives
with particular cultural weight and resonance has meant that one can
bring figures into history whose significance might be lost with traditional
literary criticism and historiography. 18
Ironically, despite their interest in the "alien" or "marginal" in English
culture, many of the more prominent new historicists have paid little more
than cursory attention to the role that both gender and racial assumptions
played in developing notions of identity. 19 Although they have brought
17. For a discussion of the proclamation of expulsion, see my essays "Guess Who's Com-
ing to Dinner? Colonization and Miscegenation in The Merchant ofVenice' and "Reading What
Isn't There: 'Black' Studies in Early Modern England."
18. "Taking their cue from Geertz's method of 'thick description' they [new historicists]
seize upon an event or anecdote ... and re-read it in such a way as to reveal through the
analysis of tiny particulars the behavioral codes, logics, and motive forces controlling a whole
society" (Veeser xi).
19. See, for example, the opening of Greenblatt's Renaissance Self-Fashioning, which out-
lines the shaping of aristocratic identity against a projected other: "Self-fashioning is achieved
in relation to something perceived as alien, strange or hostile. This threatening Other-
heretic, savage, witch, adulteress, traitor, Antichrist-must be discovered or invented in order
to be attacked and destroyed" (g). His formulation, oddly enough, omits race, even though
it includes almost every other possible category.
20. Patricia Hill Collins speaks more specifically about the "everday" knowledge of black
feminists: "The ideas we share with one another as mothers in extended families, as other-
mothers in Black communities, as members of Black churches, and as teachers to the Black
community's children have formed one pivotal area where Mrican-American women have
hammered out a Black woman's standpoint" (15).
21. Unlike Ronald Sanders, who outlines similar methodological problems in his Lost
Tribes and Promised Lands, I do not feel that my viewpoint must be shaped by the materials I
work with as he claims: "Now, in the case of two of our main characters-the Black and the
Indian-such firsthand written material does not really exist from this period. We are forced,
for the most part, to adopt the viewpoint of the oppressive but highly articulate white man"
(xiv). Rather, I adopt from Patricia Hill Collins the reminder that much of the knowledge
produced by the ''highly articulate white man'' is ''permeated by widespread notions of black
and female inferiority" and that these notions make resistant projects such as this one im-
mediately suspect.
22. Toni Morrison has been the most recent advocate of the necessity of analyzing white-
ness. In Playing in the Dark, she argues: "We need studies of the technical ways in which an
Mricanist character is used to limn out and enforce the invention and implications of white-
ness" (52). See also Peter Erickson's discussion of Playing in the Dark in his essay "Profiles
in Whiteness."
England began its involvement in what was known as the Barbary and
Guinea trades during Elizabeth I's reign when merchants who dealt in
Iberian trade began to see and act on the weaknesses of Portugal's hold
on Mrica. In his study of Elizabethan privateering, Kenneth Andrews finds
that "in the fifties the commercial penetration of Morocco and Guinea
assumed serious proportions, and the leaders of this movement in Eng-
land were the Iberian traders" ( 11). Andrews goes on to note that this
trade differed from ordinary commercial practices "not only in scale but
kind," offering unheard-of profit as well as new goods (11). As we shall
see, this sense of wealth and novelty infuses English literature and is tied
to representations of race. The region known as Barbary covered most of
the coastline between Tripoli and the Atlantic (Willan 92). The meeting
ground between the eastern trade and Mrican lands to the south, it was
a key route for the ancient trade in black slaves and gold (Clissold 17).
Mter the colonization of the Americas the area known as Barbary in-
creased in importance because it became the site where Spain and Por-
tugal maintained their connections with the ''mines of India'' evoked with
such regularity in English texts.
Both the Barbary and Guinea trades developed sporadically and were
unregulated for over thirty years, largely because Portugal still maintained
its (repeatedly ignored) entitlement to the trade. Consequently, both
trades involved ongoing patterns of complaint and reply from Portugal to
England: the Portuguese tended to couple Morocco and Guinea together
in their protests against English trade with Africa, but in doing so they
laid much greater stress on their claim to a monopoly of the Guinea trade
than on their claim to exclude others from the Moroccan trade (Willan
140). Travel in these areas gave rise to both legitimate, negotiated trade
and the privateering so characteristic of the age. This is particularly true
of the Moroccan trade because it crossed the Spanish routes to the Indies,
which meant that English traders would have had access to the slave trade
in Spain (Willan 220). As a model that England both followed and dis-
tanced itself from, Spain has a particularly complex role: it fostered the
lucrative trade in gold and slaves and had its own involvement with a
threatening darker "other" through its history of Moorish invasion and
conquest. Having no African properties of its own, Spain relied on Por-
tugal for the steady supply of slaves to run the sugar mills and gold mines
that were the source of its jealously guarded wealth.
England's increasing involvement with these trades was a source of con-
tention between English traders as well as between England and other
European countries. In 1589, one ofWalsingham's staff complained about
the overabundance of English merchants: "Outbidding one annother in
the price of Barbary commodityes thorough the envy and mallice that
raigneth among them" (quoted in Willan 268). Although they began as
individual ventures, trading voyages into Africa became increasingly reg-
ulated during Elizabeth's reign: companies formed by traders and aristo-
crats were given monopolies for various trades. Most of these ventures
were formed by royal charter, and their precarious fortunes culminated
in establishment of the Royal Company of Adventurers Trading into Africa
in 1663, which was the first such company that had an expressed purpose
of slave trading. 2s
The late Tudor-early Stuart periods were the site of "the most striking
transformations in economic history" (Rabb 2). These transformations
were particularly notable in the wide use of joint-stock companies and the
involvement of aristocrats to a degree unprecedented anywhere in Eu-
rope. Thus the class that was in great part responsible for the great flow-
ering of vernacular literature in the Elizabethan period was simultaneously
involved in laying the groundwork for Britain's future economic advance-
ment. The aristocracy and landowning gentry helped shape England's
trade through their involvement in joint-stock companies and their sup-
port of privateering ventures (Andrews 11-13). Elizabeth's powerful
adviser and noted literary patron, the earl of Leicester, was given unprec-
edented power in the formation of the Barbary Company in 1585 (Willan
187). One of the century's leading figures, Sir Philip Sidney, attempted
to use Sir Francis Drake's voyage to the West Indies as an outlet for his
frustrated ambitions. Princes, privateers, and poets were all connected in
court and diplomatic politics, and many sought to enrich themselves
through encroaching on the Portuguese monopoly on African trade. Al-
though this book does not deal as directly with class differences, it must
be said that the discourses of fairness were by and large shaped by this
aristocratic class, which may have been anxious over its novel involvement
in mercantile adventure.
23. In 1588, rights to the trade of the Guinea Coast between Senegal and the Gambia
were granted to a company of London and west-<:ountry merchants (Willan 139). The trading
giant, the East India Company, began as a modest enterprise in 16oo. The West Mrica
Company was incorporated in 1618 for trading in Guinea and Benin (Lipson 354). In 1631,
Charles I began the precarious Royal African Companies, which had as their main purpose
the trade in gold and ivory. By the next year, the English had a factory at Winneba, and they
began their first fort in Coramantin in 1638 (Davies 115). That company was superseded by
the "Company of Royal Adventurers into Mrica," formed in 166o, and was itself reformu-
lated-with the first explicit mention of slaving in the company charter-as the Royal Com-
pany of Adventurers Trading into Mrica in 1663. Although slaving was a by-product of the
African trade in the earlier companies, after the Restoration the trade became more domi-
nated by slave trade as merchants attempted to fill the demand for slaves in England's West
Indian colonies (Lipson 271).
Mrican voyages were truly the nursery to English seamen. Later mari-
time luminaries such as Sir Francis Drake and Martin Frobisher got their
first sea experience on the African voyages of those founding fathers of
the English slave trade-the Hawkins family. Mrican trade became a way
for such merchants to rise in class and was early on a marker of wealth
and identity. The colonization of the Gold Coast by Portugal began in
1471 with the concession of Sierra Leone to Fernao Gomes, who was
rewarded with a title and a coat of arms showing "the heads of three
negroes wearing collars and pendants of gold" (Vilar 53). John Hawkins,
who demonstrated the weakness of Portugal's hold on those colonies and
initiated England's involvement in the slave trade, was similarly rewarded
with a coat of arms: "Sable, on a point wavy a lion passant or; in chief
three bezants; for a crest, a demi-Moor proper bound in a cord" (Wil-
liamson 113-14) (figure 2). The use of not only blackness but black peo-
ple with badges of slavery is an ongoing way of demarcating status. As we
shall see later, many aristocratic portraits included servants also wearing
gold or silver collars, bringing to bear a similar set of associations between
aristocratic white bodies, black servitude, and foreign wealth.
England was also connected in both direct and indirect ways to the
traffic in slaves and the opening of heretofore unknown sections of Africa.
That England's first involvement in slave trading occurs in the 1550s sug-
gests that slave trading was from the first an integral part of the Mrican
trade. England's domestic politics, economy, and international affairs and
the European slave trade in Africa increasingly met and became sites of
contest in the Elizabethan period. England's trading practices in Africa
soon put it into dispute with Spain and Portugal. Much of the conflict
with Portugal over England's African trade centered on English attempts
to break into the traffic in slaves. During Mary's reign, the Portuguese
dominated African trade, supplying slaves to the Spanish Indies in
exchange for gold and goods throughout Europe both by right of first
exploration and by military might. This right was also confirmed by papal
dispensation, and under the Catholic Mary there was virtually no involve-
ment in slave trafficking. Nonetheless the potential profits of the trade
held some allure for Englishmen, and a syndicate of London fitted out
five ships to explore the Guinea coast in 1554 (Donnan g). 24
24. Elizabeth Donnan notes an early, abortive attempt at the slave trade: "In 1481 rumor
reached Portugal that two Englishmen, William Fabian and john Tintam, were equipping an
expedition for Guinea trade. John II. of Portugal promptly protested that this violated the
terms of his papal privileges, and the voyage was stayed. About the same time Edward IV. of
England asked the pope for permission to trade in Mrica but nothing came of his request"
(1:6).
That by the experience of the trade which he hathe had to and at the saide
place called Vera Crux and other the cheiffe of the West Indias as is aforesaid
this deponent knowethe that a Negro of a good stature and yonge of yeres
is worthe and is commonlie bought and soulde there at Mexico and the
maine Iande of the West Indias for iii<v< and vi< pesos. For if a negro be a
Bossale that is to say ignorant of the spanishe or Portugale tonge then he or
she is commonlye soulde for iiii< and iiii< L [450] pesos. (Donnan 1:72)
25. In a letter to Philip II (12 July 1567), the Spanish ambassador Guzman de Silva
reports: "I hear that the ships Hawkins is going to take out are being got ready rapidly and
I am now told that there are to be nine of them, four of the queen's and five which Hawkins
has in Plymouth, where they say the others are to join them" (Donnan 63).
the Dutch began redrawing its configuration and competing for the cru-
cial rights to the slave trade that would provide the necessary labor to
buttress their other colonial ambitions.
Now, being thus in a very honourable and comely order set, and after a while,
having well refreshed themselves with the first service, which was very sump-
tuous, there came into the sight of them all, a blackmoor, drawing (as it
seemed to the beholders) a triumphal chariot, (and before it the melodious
noise of trumpets and hautboyes) which chariot entered the hall; the motion
of the whole frame (which was twelve feet long, and seven feet broad) was
so artificial within itself, that it appeared to be drawne in, onely by the
strength of a Moor, which was very richely attired; his traces were great
chaines of pure gold. (Scott 179)
Upon this chariot was finely and artificially devised, a sumptuous covered
table, decked with all sorts of exquisite delicates and dainties, of patisserie,
frutages, and confections.
About the table were placed six gallant dames, who represented a silent
comedie ... (Scott 179)