Science, Sexuality, and Race in the United States and Australia, 1780– 1940
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Science, Sexuality, and Race in the United States and Australia, 1780– 1940, revised edition | Gregory D. Smithers university of nebraska press | lincoln and london 2017 [2008] Contents List of Illustrations ix Acknowledgments xi A Note about Terminology xiii Introduction 1 part i 1. On the Importance of Good Breeding 27 2. Debating Race and the Meaning of Whiteness 67 3. Eliminating the “Dubious Hyphen between Savagery and Civilization” 103 4. Racial Discourse in the United States and Australia 123 part ii 5. Missionaries, Settlers, Cherokees, and African Americans, 1780s– 1850s 155 6. Missionaries, Settlers, and Australian Aborigines, 1780s– 1850s 187 7. The Evolution of an American Race, 1860s– 1890s 215 8. The Evolution of White Australia, 1860– 1890 245 part iii 9. The “Science” of Human Breeding 277 10. “Breeding out the Colour” 303 Epilogue 339 Notes 345 Bibliography 409 Index 487 Illustrations figures 1. Port Jackson Painter, Five Half- Length Portraits of Australian Aborigines, ca. 1790 58 2. “An Affecting Scene in Kentucky,” 1835 86 3. Charles Darwin 108 4. “Reason against Unreason” 111 5. Frederick Douglass 176 6. Prout, Residence of the Aborigines, Flinders Island, 1846 200 7. “Three Generations,” from Australia’s Coloured Minority, 1947 328 table 1. Number of Aboriginal people in each colony at the 1891 census 252 ix Acknowledgments the act of writing is a solitary endeavor, but the process of producing a historical narrative is very much a collective pursuit. I am indebted to a great many institutions, colleagues, friends, and family for helping to make this book possible. For generously providing fellowship support and financial assistance I would like to thank the American Philosophical Society; the Huntington Library; the Pacific Rim Program at the University of California; the Institute for Governmental Affairs at the University of California; the Department of History at the University of California, Davis; the uhh Research Fund at the University of Hawaii, Hilo. I am also indebted to Karen Rader and John Powers at Virginia Commonwealth University’s Science, Technology, and Society program for allowing me to present a portion of my research at the 2015 Southern Society for the History of Science and Technology conference. I had the good fortune to meet and work with some amazing schol- ars during the course of this project. This book began life as a seminar paper at the University of California, Berkeley, and ultimately became my dissertation. Though that seminar paper was rough, I thank Thomas Metcalf and James Vernon for getting me started with their encourage- ment, criticism, and advice. I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to my wonderful dissertation committee. To Karen Halttunen, Alan Taylor, and xi Aram Yengoyan, thank you for guiding me through the dissertation and for having the patience to work with an uncouth Australian graduate student. Most importantly, I must thank the chair of my dissertation committee, Clarence Walker. Professor Walker is a mentor, colleague, and friend. It was his prodding that finally convinced me to write this book. It would be remiss of me to not extend my thanks to Paul Spick- ard, Richard Waterhouse, Philippa Levine, Shane White, Dirk Moses, John Smolenski, and Brian Behnken. All have provided encouragement, council, and feedback on various parts of this project. A special word of thanks to the University of Nebraska Press for believing enough in this book to see it revised and republished. Matthew Bokovoy is one of the most knowledgeable and professional editors in the business. It is always a pleasure working with him. And to Heather Stauffer and Joy Margheim, I am deeply thankful to you both for your expertise and keen editorial eyes. My heartfelt thanks to you both. For my family, my eternal thanks. To my siblings: Paul, Sarah, Sean, Luke, Louise, and Robert, you have no idea how grateful I am that none of you are academics! To Anne and David Smithers, my loving parents, my thanks. You’ve endured (and financed) my flights of fantasy over the years with unknown patience, understanding, and love. My mother passed away before the revisions to this book were complete. I miss you, Mum, but remain forever thankful for the opportunities that you and Dad made available to me. Finally, to the most important ladies in my life, Brooke, Gwyneth, and Simone: thank you. To Brooke, my wife, best friend, and strongest critic, I couldn’t have done this without you. And to my children, Gwyneth and Simone, you make life interesting! xii | Acknowledgments A Note about Terminology this book analyzes ideas, government policies and practices, and language that are offensive to twenty- first century readers. I have there- fore placed terms such as mulatto, half- breed, half- caste, and white Australia ideal in quotation marks when first used in each chapter. I do this out of respect for the people objectified by the ideas and policies analyzed in this book and to underscore the historically constructed, and contested, nature of racial and gendered categories. However, so as not to clutter the text with quotation marks I have chosen not to use such markers after first indicating the offensive and constructed nature of these terms. xiii science, sexuality, and race in the united states and australia, 1780– 1940, revised edition Introduction on july 23, 1933, the new york times reported that australia’s tropical north— a vast “uninhabited” land stretching from the Indian to the Pacific Ocean— “are to be open to settlers.”¹ Thirty years after historian Frederick Jackson Turner declared the United States’ western frontier “closed,” Americans looked to far- flung parts of the world for hitherto unexplored frontiers and untapped natural resources.² For American readers schooled in tall tales of life on the Great Plains, the New York Time’s description of northern Australia’s “inland savannahs [which] offer potential opportunities to white settlers” must surely have captured the imagination of many readers.³ During the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the New York Times was one of a number of major American newspapers to carry regular news from Australia. Indeed, since the Spanish- American War of 1898 announced the United States’ arrival as a major colonial player in both the Atlantic and Pacific worlds, a steady stream of reporting from the Asia- Pacific had reached American readers.4 From Australia, American newspapers included reports on everything from the game of cricket to the settlement of land in the Australian tropics and government policies toward Aboriginal people. Despite, or perhaps because of, the convulsive revolutionary war that gave birth to both the United States and ultimately led to the establishment of the penal colony of New South Wales, along 1 the southeastern coastline of Australia, white Americans and Britons shared much in common from the 1780s and into the twentieth century.5 American newspapers like New York Times recognized these similarities, the sharing of an Anglo heritage, a frontier history, and a common belief in the superiority of the white races over those of indigenous, Asiatic, and African ancestry. In fact, it’s revealing that the New York Times did not mention the Aboriginal Australians who’d called the lands between the Indian and Pacific Oceans home for tens of thousands of years. To most white Americans, as to their white contemporaries in Australia, Aboriginal people were part of the landscape; such creatures were part of the frontier wilderness and awaited the “white man’s” containment, domestication, and if necessary, extermination. Only then could settler civilization take root and flourish.6 Such ideas did not emerge suddenly in the 1930s; they were several centuries in the making.7 Nonetheless, the above ideas bound white Americans and white Australians together in what many referred to as the “crimson thread of kinship.”8 This book is about the scientific, sexual, and racial ideas that bound white Americans and their Australian coun- terparts together in an imagined sense of transnational racial solidarity amid settler societies characterized by frontier and borderland regions that contained what seemed at times to be a confusing biological and cultural mixture of dissimilar people. How could such heterogeneity be contained, perhaps even harnessed, to elevate settler frontiers and bor- derlands to the status of civilized and stable settler societies? If the United States and Australia shared such abstract colonial ideals in common by the early twentieth century, understanding how these ideals entered, gained intellectual validity, and punctuated the transnational scientific, sexual, and racial discourses shared by white Americans and Australians requires that we recognize the common cultural, legal, and political foundations on which both settler societies were built. The United States and Australia share a number of important fea- tures. Both inherited from their English forebears a deeply felt concern for genealogy and lines of inheritance. In medieval and early modern English common law, the language of “breeding,” “extraction,” and “descent” 2 | Introduction presaged a confused (and confusing) mixture of laws, statutes, and local customs that determined one’s allegiance, identity, and ability to inherit land. When the English began to colonize what became Great Britain and Ireland during the sixteenth century, an interest in the nurturing of compliant and well- ordered settler populations dovetailed with English anxieties about the purity