Travel writing both today and during the early modern period tends to focus on the thrill of adventure, discovery of new wonders, and documentation of wildlife. Yet, one peculiar aspect of early modern travel writing is the degree to which it swung from objective observation to moral judgement without batting an eyelid.
From the very beginning of the early modern period in England, there was interest for a sort of proto-travel writing genre. The famous Travels of Sir John Mandeville, initially circulated in the 14th century, saw a popular resurgence in England and abroad during the 16th century and was mass printed thanks to the relatively new technology of moveable print. Part of the allure of travel writing was that it was the only outlet through which the vast majority of the population could gain any insight into the world outside of Europe. Moreover, those who travelled outside of Europe found themselves entirely isolated from their family and friends. David Judkins argues that this isolation, at a time when any message had to be physically delivered by a person, ‘contributed to the traveler’s sense of foreignness—indeed, otherness.’ I believe that it is this ‘otherness’, a sense of alienation which likely overwhelmed many travellers, which contributes to the inclusion of moral judgements about native populations in works which otherwise seem fairly informative and objective.
Sir Thomas Herbert’s A Relation of Some Yeares Travaile (1634) is something of a masterclass in inserting moral verdicts among apparently factual observations. His work recounts his travels from 1626 into Africa, Asia, and other areas of the non-European world. Truthfully, his account is a goldmine of information pertaining to the geography of the areas it is concerned with and particularly when Herbert describes the wildlife he encountered. Famously, he is among the first to use the term ‘Dodo’ in English and gives a sketch of a dodo along with a description of its observed appearance and behaviour, remarking on its ‘complementall wings, so small and impotent, that they serve only to prove her Bird.’ Herbert also describes the indigenous people that he encounters on his travel and in many ways he does so in a similar manner to that of describing the dodo, affording them no real autonomy and remarking on their practices as strange.
Although at first his accounts of the native people seem objective and impartial, as he goes on it becomes apparent that there is no supposition of good moral standing when it comes to these people. Of course, the word ‘savage’ is used to introduce them which is clearly not a compliment but the word does need to be addressed carefully. Any tribal communities at the time were described using these terms, even when denoting the most educated and ‘civilised’ (according to English standards at least) members – the word would be more marked in its absence than its presence. Described as wearing little clothing and being lusty (with obvious implicit criticism, given that Herbert was a Christian), the people of Ethiopia are deemed as having ‘no better predecessors than Monkeys.’ Herbert outright decries the people he encounters in Angola as ‘Devillish Savages’ with superstitious beliefs and a particular emphasis is placed on the tendency for native populations to wear various bodily modifications such as rings around the neck or facial piercings, which Herbert is not a fan of. Talking about Africans generally, Herbert argues that they ‘are much addicted to rapine and theevery [… and] The Devill is no stranger amongst them.’ Yet only a few lines later Herbert switches back to describing the behaviour of a seabird ‘called a Booby’ which he provides an illustration of on the next page.
Herbert’s work was far from an isolated phenomenon. Any writing which concerned travel was likely to make reference to native populations and their practices which would in turn lead to condemnation of their beliefs, portrayed as savage and ungodly. William Dampier’s popular book A New Voyage Round the World (1697) includes an interesting account of his circumnavigation of the world between 1679 and 1691, including an unprecedentedly detailed description of a typhoon he’d experienced, but also made comments on the Aboriginal people of Australia which he described as ‘the miserablest people in the world’ who had ‘no one graceful feature in their faces’. These sentiments continue into the modern day with Aboriginal Australians still facing severe oppression and prejudice on the basis of racist stereotypes. Interestingly, archaeologist Michael McCarthy argues that these descriptions may have emerged from Dampier’s desire to turn his account into a bestseller. His publisher may therefore have wanted to play into pre-existing popular notions of native people as animalistic in order to increase sales. Of course, Dampier still permitted the publication of the book and it’s unlikely he resisted the change at all, even if it did not reflect his personal beliefs.
If you want a good, factual account of the New World or the Orient from an early modern perspective, then the texts referenced above as well as plethora of other contemporary literature will certainly do the job. Travel writing in 17th century England rarely fails to provide the reader with extraordinary accounts of perilous journeys, exotic islands, and fantastical creatures which soar high in the skies, scurry close the ground, or swim beneath the sea. But if you do decide to read such an account, keep an eye out for moral judgements (implicit or explicit) and don’t expect an impartial account when native populations enter the frame.
Early Modern Scribbling 