Joseph Galloway.Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.
Richard R. Beeman
Land, labour, and independence
Although Frederick Jackson Turner’s 1893 “frontier thesis”—that American democracy was the result of an abundance of free land—has long been seriously challenged and modified, it is clear that the plentifulness of virgin acres and the lack of workers to till them did cause a loosening of the constraints of authority in the colonial and early national periods. Once it became clear that the easiest path to success for Britain’s New World “plantations” lay in raising export crops, there was a constant demand for agricultural labour, which in turn spurred practices that—with the notable exception of slavery—compromised a strictly hierarchical social order.
In all the colonies, whether governed directly by the king, by proprietors, or by chartered corporations, it was essential to attract settlers, and what governors had most plentifully to offer was land. Sometimes large grants were made to entire religious communities numbering in the hundreds or more. Sometimes tracts were allotted to wealthy men on the “head rights” (literally “per capita”) system of so many acres for each family member they brought over. Few Englishmen or Europeans had the means to buy farms outright, so the simple sale of homesteads by large-scale grantees was less common than renting. But there was another well-traveled road to individual proprietorship that also provided a workforce: the system of contract labour known as indentured service. Under it, an impecunious new arrival would sign on with a landowner for a period of service—commonly seven years—binding him to work in return for subsistence and sometimes for the repayment of his passage money to the ship captain who had taken him across the Atlantic (such immigrants were called “redemptioners”). At the end of this term, the indentured servant would in many cases be rewarded by the colony itself with “freedom dues,” a title to 50 or more acres of land in a yet-unsettled area. This somewhat biblically inspired precapitalist system of transfer was not unlike apprenticeship, the economic and social tool that added to the supply of skilled labour. The apprentice system called for a prepubescent boy to be “bound out” to a craftsman who would take him into his own home and there teach him his art while serving as a surrogate parent. (Girls were perennially “apprenticed” to their mothers as homemakers.) Both indentured servants and apprentices were subject to the discipline of the master, and their lot varied with his generosity or hard-fistedness. There must have been plenty of the latter type of master, as running away was common. The first Africans taken to Virginia, or at least some of them, appear to have worked as indentured servants. Not until the case of John Punch in the 1640s did it become legally established that black “servants” were to remain such for life. Having escaped, been caught, and brought to trial, Punch, an indentured servant of African descent, and two other indentured servants of European descent received very different sentences, with Punch’s punishment being servitude for the “rest of his natural life” while that for the other two was merely an extension of their service.
The harshness of New England’s climate and topography meant that for most of its people the road to economic independence lay in trade, seafaring, fishing, or craftsmanship. But the craving for an individually owned subsistence farm grew stronger as the first generations of religious settlers who had “planted” by congregation died off. In the process the communal holding of land by townships—with small allotted family garden plots and common grazing and orchard lands, much in the style of medieval communities—yielded gradually to the more conventional privately owned fenced farm. The invitation that available land offered—individual control of one’s life—was irresistible. Property in land also conferred civic privileges, so an unusually large number of male colonists were qualified for suffrage by the Revolution’s eve, even though not all of them exercised the vote freely or without traditional deference to the elite.
Slavery was the backbone of large-scale cultivation of such crops as tobacco and hence took strongest root in the Southern colonies. But thousands of white freeholders of small acreages also lived in those colonies; moreover, slavery on a small scale (mainly in domestic service and unskilled labour) was implanted in the North. The line between a free and a slaveholding America had not yet been sharply drawn.
One truly destabilizing system of acquiring land was simply “squatting.” On the western fringes of settlement, it was not possible for colonial administrators to use police powers to expel those who helped themselves to acres technically owned by proprietors in the seaboard counties. Far from seeing themselves as outlaws, the squatters believed that they were doing civilization’s work in putting new land into production, and they saw themselves as the moral superiors of eastern “owners” for whom land was a mere speculative commodity that they did not, with great danger and hardship, cultivate themselves. Squatting became a regular feature of westward expansion throughout early U.S. history. Bernard A. Weisberger
Cultural and religious development
Colonial culture
Rush, BenjaminBenjamin Rush, coloured engraving, 19th century.© North Wind Picture Archives
Franklin, BenjaminBenjamin Franklin's experiment proving the identity of lightning and electricity.© North Wind Picture ArchivesAmerica’s intellectual attainments during the 17th and 18th centuries, while not inferior to those of the countries of Europe, were nevertheless of a decidedly different character. It was the techniques of applied science that most excited the minds of Americans, who, faced with the problem of subduing an often wild and unruly land, saw in science the best way to explain, and eventually to harness, those forces around them. Ultimately this scientific mode of thought might be applied to the problems of civil society as well, but for the most part the emphasis in colonial America remained on science and technology, not politics or metaphysics. Typical of America’s peculiar scientific genius was John Bartram of Pennsylvania, who collected and classified important botanical data from the New World. The American Philosophical Society, founded in 1744, is justly remembered as the focus of intellectual life in America. Men such as David Rittenhouse, an astronomer who built the first planetarium in America; Cadwallader Colden, the lieutenant governor of New York, whose accomplishments as a botanist and as an anthropologist probably outmatched his achievements as a politician; and Benjamin Rush, a pioneer in numerous areas of social reform as well as one of colonial America’s foremost physicians, were among the many active members of the society. At the centre of the society was one of its founders, Benjamin Franklin, who (in his experiments concerning the flow of electricity) proved to be one of the few American scientists to achieve a major theoretical breakthrough but who was more adept at the kinds of applied research that resulted in the manufacture of more efficient stoves and the development of the lightning rod.