Koditschek Theodore. Liberalism, Imperialism, and the Historical Imagination: Nineteenth-Century Visions of a Greater Britain
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misusing history to inflame sectarian antagonisms, and both stood to lose
if a moderate centrist nationalism (and a careful scholarly neutrality)
should prevail. In the context of 1873, the appearance of Froude’s
book was doubly unfortunate. For the fi rst time in almost a century,
Gladstone’s Irish reforms of 1869–70 had generated an atmosphere of
hopeful expectation that a spirit of moderation might take hold. In an
age when liberal opinion and national self-determination were gaining
ground all over Europe, the Irish were slowly recovering their civic iden-
tity. The long dark night of sectarian strife seemed to be waning, and was
giving way to a mounting spirit of patriotic unity.
82
Under these favorable circumstances, the principal danger came from
irresponsible publicists who, like Froude, stiffened English intransigence
to progressive change. This then fanned the flames of Fenian extremism
both in Ireland and in America. It supported agitators’ claims that the
English were incapable of justice and could not learn from past mistakes.
Froude professed to fear for the future of the Empire, but this future in
fact depended on the creation of a more decentralized and egalitarian
constitutional frame. In an era when public opinion had become sovereign,
“no government would ever command the real affection of the [Irish]
people which is not, in some degree, national, administered in great
measure by Irishmen, through Irish institutions.”
83
Of course, Lecky
understood that to make this linkage between Froude’s History and imperial
misgovernment was to place on himself the burden of advancing the cause
of good government, by producing a better, more balanced Anglo-Irish
History. The monumental task would take him nineteen years and five
volumes. The result, however, was the first really even-handed attempt to
tell the Irish story – a book so comprehensive and carefully researched
that it is still sometimes cited by historians today.
84
82
W. E. H. Lecky, The Leaders of Public Opinion in Ireland, 2nd edn. (London, 1871).
Lecky’s subsequent relation to the Home Rule movement was complex. See
McCartney, Lecky, Historian and Politician,57–185.
83
Lecky, Leaders, 2nd edn., xiv–xvi, quotes on xviii and xix.
84
LHI, compiled from an original eight-volume work that also encompassed aspects of
English history. Lecky responded to Froude’s “racial” interpretation of Irish history in the
following way: “Without denying that there are some innate differences of character
between the subdivisions of the great Aryan race, there is, I think, abundant evidence
that they have been enormously exaggerated. Ethnologically the distribution and even the
distinction of Celts and Teutons are questions which are far from settled .. . Nations
change profoundly in the very respects which their characters might be thought most
indelible, and the theory of race is met at every turn by perplexing exceptions” (I: 397).
Lecky’s massive work has been abridged into a single volume by L. P. Curtis, who also
provides a very useful introduction: W. E. H. Lecky, A History of Ireland in the Eighteenth
Century, ed. L. P. Curtis (Chicago, 1972), 1–36, especially 35. Unless otherwise noted, all
subsequent references are to the original edition.
W. E. H. Lecky’s Anglo-Irish counter-history 185
Lecky begins his opening chapter on the “Protestant Ascend ancy” by a
counterfactual comparison of the Irish with the Scottish case. “The his-
tory of Scotland in the eighteent h century furnishes us with one of the
most remarkable instances on record of the efficacy of wise legislation in
developing the prosperity and ameliorating the character of nations.” In
the history of Ireland, however, “we may trace with singular clearness the
perverting and degrading influences of great legislative injustices, and
the manner in which they affect every element of national well-being.”
All the evils that Froude had identified as inherent in the Irish character –
sloth, venality, lawlessness, and deceit – Lecky diagnoses as secondary
consequences of the penal code’sofficial violence.
85
Given that they were
unable to participate in politics, to own land, to worship freely, and to
educate their children in their ancestral creed, it is hardly surprising that
Catholics should have become hypocritical, underhanded, and disloyal.
With the Irish Parliament and gove rnment disempowered by unconstitu-
tional laws that subordinated these institutions to supervisory oversight
from Westminster, it was hardly to be wondered that they should grow
corpulent, corrupt, and unrepresentative of even the relatively privileged
Protestant minori ty. Excluded from British and colonial markets by alien
laws designed to protect English merchants and manufacturers, the Irish
people would become economically dependent, and frequently impover-
ished, as a generalized condition of underdevelopment took hold.
86
Where Froude depicts eighteenth-century Ireland as a land of fatality,
doomed to repeat the same dysfunctional cycle of the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries, Lecky restores it to the realm of conjuncture – an
era fraught with opportunities for progress-advancing new departures that
might have altered the course of history. As in his earlier book Leaders,
Lecky concretizes the method of Buckle by focusing on the handful of
enlightened, forward-looking Protestant leaders – Swift, Flood, and
Grattan – who sought to break the shackles of Irelan d’s credulous, colo-
nial confinement and to create a new trans-class, trans-sectarian national
identity. The greatest of these heroes is Henry Grattan, whom Froude
had dismissed as a bombastic malcontent. Borne high on the tide of
his eloquence and the strength of 100,000 armed Volunteers, Grattan
effected a bloodless constitutional revolution, which placed Irishmen in
charge of their own destiny. Acting as citizens rather than as Protestants or
as landlords, he and his colleagues clearly understood that the national
independence that they had half-extracted from London would remain
nugatory so long as Catholics remained disenfranchised.
87
85
LHI, I: 1–12, 13–241, quote on 1.
86
LHI, I: 136–421.
87
LHI, II: 136–517; Lecky, Leaders, 2nd edn., 104–222.
186 Re-imagining a Greater Britain
With his eyes very much on the cons titutional crise s of the 1870s,
Lecky identified 1795 as the previous point of decision, when Irish history
had taken a reactionary turn: had the patriotic Protestant landlords of
that era succeeded in their plan to redress Catholic grievances, the course
of history would have changed. The uprising of 1798 would have been
averted, with all the horrors and atrocities that followed in its wake.
Men like Richard Edgeworth would have risen to positions of national
leadership, and Ireland might have become one of the most prosperous
and enlightened countries in the world.
With the removal of the few remaining religious disabilities, a settlement of tithes,
and a moderate reform of Parliament, it seemed still probable that Ireland, under
the guidance of her resident gentry, might have contributed at least as much as
Scotland to the prosperity of the Empire. But from the day when Pitt recalled Lord
Fitzwilliam, the course of her history was changed. Intense and growing hatred of
England, revived religious and class animosities, a savage rebellion, savagely
repressed, a legislative union prematurely and corruptly carried, mark the closing
years of the eighteenth century, and after ninety years of direct British government,
the condition of Ireland is universally recognized as the chief scandal and the chief
weakness of the Empire.
88
Pitt is in many ways the evil genius of Lecky’s Irish history books. Like
some malignant forerunner of Froude, he typified the well-intentioned
but arrogant English imperialist who barged into Ireland, knowing little
of her real history, with some ill-designed panacea that inevitably made
a bad situation worse. In particular, Pitt’s scheme to strengthen the
British Empire by forcing Ireland into the Union of 1800 had produced
disastrous results. Over seven decades, it had weakened the Empire by
humiliating and emasculating Irelan d’ s natural Protestant gentry leaders,
without reconciling Catholics to continued British rule. By destroying
the Irish patriotism of the Protesta nts while selling out the Catholics,
Pitt had left a legacy of political dysfunction that would be difficult
to overcome.
89
Under these circumstances, the task of preserving Irish
nationalism in a British imperial frame had fallen to the charismatic
Catholic Daniel O’Connell. Eloquent and courageous, but also irrespon-
sible and demagogic, O’Connell is a flawed hero in Lecky’s account.
The Great Emancipator’s identification with underdogs everywhere, his
principled commitment to non-violent mass action, and his keen
88
LHI, III: 1–324, quote on 324.
89
LHI, III: 325–547, IV: 1–473, V: 1–494; Lecky, Leaders, 2nd edn., 143–96. “Carried as it
was prematurely, in defiance of the national sentiment of the people and the protests of the
unbridled talent of the country, it [Act of Union] has deranged the whole course of
political development, driven a large proportion of the people into sullen disloyalty, and
has almost destroyed healthy public opinion” (195).
W. E. H. Lecky’s Anglo-Irish counter-history 187
identification with Ireland as a national community all redeem him in
Lecky’s eyes. Yet O’Connell’s deference to the Catholic hierarchy and his
pandering to the unwashed masses had filled the Protestant gentry with
anxiety and fea r.
90
In his 1871 introduction to Leaders, as well as in his subsequent Anglo-
Irish Histo ry, Lecky acknowledged that some form of union between
Ireland and Britain was inevitable, since “nature and a long and inextri -
cable union of interests have made it imperatively necessary for the two
countries to continue under the same rule.”
No reasonable man who considers their relative positions can believe that England
would ever voluntarily relinquish the government of Ireland, or that Ireland could
ever establish her independence in opposition to England, unless the English [sic]
navy were utterly shattered. Even in the event of the dissolution of the Empire,
Irish separation could only be achieved at the expense of a civil war.
Nevertheless, Pitt’s ve rsion of Union had equated amalgamation with
centralization and the crushing of local and national sub-imperial
autonomy. By devolving power “from the overworked Parliament of
the Empire” to regional and national institutions, “ the political talent of
the country” coul d be activated safely, radical separatists could be margi-
nalized, and “a sound public opinion may be gradua lly formed.”
91
The best hope for Victorian Ireland, in Lecky’s estima tion, was a new
Fitzwilliam, an English statesman (perhaps Gladstone) willing to atone
for the sins of his predecessors; and a new Grattan, an Irish gentleman-
patriot (perhaps himself) willing to forge a genuinely national movement,
enlisting Irishmen of every race and creed. This historiographically
derived program to save the Br itish Empire by re-negotiating its Union
as a voluntary federation of different but equal nationalities was a
bold new departure in conceptual terms. Rejecting Froude’s (or even
Macaulay’s) recipe of integration through anglicization, it was predicated
on the frank acknowledgement that political autonomy and cultural differ-
ence afforded the only basis for a lasting bond between peoples. Such
future intertwinement would become possible only through a painful
reckoning with their divided, divisive, and exploitative history.
92
Yet at the very moment when Lecky the Irish historian wa s elaborating
this vision, Lecky the Protestant landlord began to get cold feet. As work
on his multi-volume History dragged on into the late 1870s and 1880s,
he not only saw that the political landscape was changing, but that his
own political reactions were beginning to shift. In particular, the rise of
90
Lecky, Leaders, 2nd edn., 223–320.
91
Lecky, Leaders, 2nd edn., xv, xx.
92
McCartney, Lecky, Historian and Politician,85–136.
188 Re-imagining a Greater Britain
the Land Lea gue and of Parnell as nationalist leader struck Lecky as
dangerous developments which sought to divert the national movement
into violence and illegality. “Whatever else Parnell and his satellites have
done,” he wrote, in 1879, to a friend,
they have, at least in my opinion killed home rule by demonstrating in the clearest
manner that the classes who possess political power in Ireland are radically unfit
for self-government. That a set of political adventurers who go about the country
openly advocating robbery and by implication murder .. . appears to me a most
conclusive proof that the very rudiments of political morality have still to be
taught ... Whatever else government has to do, the protection of life and property is
its first duty.
93
In another letter, Lecky acknowledged that he was beginning “to take a
much more landlord view than you do of Irish affairs.” A few years later,
he was making remarks that went ever further against the grain of his
published works . “So far from things tending toward home rule, I think
you will soon find the opinion growing up on all sides that Ireland is
unfit for the amount of represe ntative government she possesses, and
that a government rather on the Indian model may become necessary.”
94
Irish nationalism may have remained Lecky ’s goal in theory, but Irish
nationalism, as it actually appeared in the 1880s, elicited a reaction that
was scarcely distinguishable from that of his historiographi cal opponent,
Froude.
8 Ethnic evolution and Froude’s im perial scheme
Though Froude could not have read Lecky’s self-subverting letters –
acquiescing de facto in the Froudian vision of history – their contents
would not have surprised him. For this English historian it was axiomatic
that every member of the propertied classes (which included Lecky)
would at some point have to abandon highflown constitutional rhetoric
and rally round the realpolitik impe rative to preserve society. By the mid-
1870s, Froude had reason to think that the British public in general was
coming around to his point of view. In 1874, Gladstone and the Liberals
were defeated and were replaced by the Tories, under Disraeli, who had
pledged his party to the preservation of th e Empire. Although a plan to
bring Froude into Parliament fell through, he had aristocratic friends
in high places, most notably Lords Derby and Carnarvon, who were the
93
Quoted in McCartney, Lecky, Historian and Politician,95–6.
94
Quoted in McCartney, Lecky, Historian and Politician,98–9. For a general discussion of
late Victorian fears of Anglo-Saxon race degeneration, see Daniel Pick, Faces of
Degeneration: A European Disorder, c.1848–c.1910 (Cambridge, 1989), 155–221.
Ethnic evolution and Froude’s imperial scheme 189
new Foreign and Colonial Secretaries, respectively. Froude had long
wanted to take a tour of the antipodes, to report on the triumph of the
Anglo-Saxon, but Carnarvon persuaded him to go on a fact-finding
mission to South Africa instead. The Canadian provinces had recently
been confederated under a unified Crown government, and it was hoped
that the South Africans might be persuaded to do the same.
95
Froude could work up an interest in South Africa only by envisioning
it as a target for Anglo-Saxon emigration. When he stepped out onto
the streets of Cape Town, however, he was forced to confront an environ-
ment that was far more fluid and complex. The British settlers, he dis-
covered, were less interested in farming than in cashing in on the
diamond-mining bonanza, which was just then opening up. Much closer
to his ideal of the Anglo-Saxon yeoman farmer were the Boers of the
interior. Unfortunately, these hard-bitten Dutch racial cousins wanted no
part of his Greater British imperial dream. Froude attributed their hos-
tility to high-handed mismanagement. He found it regrettable that their
aspiration was not for imperial federation but for republican autonomy.
Even more baffling to Froude’s metropolitan eyes was the complex tap-
estry of South Africa’s ind igenous ethnic groups – Xhosa, Khoi, Zulu,
Sotha, Tswana – each of which claimed part of the land and stood in a
different relation to the various expanding white settler communities.
Oblivious to the finer anthropological distinctions between these indige-
nous cultures, Froude lumped them all together as “Kaffirs” and deplored
their occupation of arable lands for which Boers or Britons were
predestined.
96
After exploring the Cape Colony, Froude made his way to Natal.
Here, on the imperial frontier, there were confused reports of a near
rebellion by the natives or, alternatively, of a terrible atrocity of official
repression on the scale of Governor Eyre. Carnarvon wanted to know
what had actually happened. Froude obliged with long missives, posted
every few days, on the fruits of his investigation. The trouble had begun
95
Froude was deliberately cryptic about his political party allegiance. In 1875, the Liberal
Parliamentary Whip asked if he would be willing to stand as a Liberal candidate for
Glasgow and Aberdeen Universities. Froude’s Tory friends in the Cabinet (notably
Lord Carnarvon) and the Prime Minister, Disraeli, expressed enthusiasm for this scheme,
and indicated that they would be happy to let the election go uncontested. In the mean-
time, the Liberal leaders began to realize that Froude shared few of their positions, and
withdrew their offer. From this we may infer that, by the 1870s, Froude was essentially a
Tory, although both he and the party leaders preferred not to advertise this fact. See DF,
II: 419.
96
J. A. Froude, “Leaves from a South African Journal,” in Short Studies on Great Subjects,III
(New York, 1893), 343–400, especially 350, 357, 363; J. A. Froude, Two Lectures on South
Africa (London, 1880).
190 Re-imagining a Greater Britain
in the mines, which had recruited black labor and paid the workers in
ammunition and guns. One tribe, the Hlubi, under the leadership of a
chief, Langalabalele, had secreted their weapon s, for fear that they
would be confiscated. Rumors spread, and the British settlers were
provoked into a panic of mayhem, wreaking wholesale plunder and
carnage on the offending tribe.
97
Froude’s initial reaction was not, as
might be expected, his own published Henry VIII defense. His enquiries
revealed not a shred of evidence that the Hlubi were planning to revolt,
or to use their guns for anything other than hunting. Yet this flimsy
charge had become the pretext for a governme nt-sponsored rampage in
which Hlubi property had been stolen, the tribe had been scattered, and
hundreds of innocent people – including many women and children –
had been slaughtered in cold blood. What Froude found most astonish-
ing about this episode was its casual acceptance by all sectors of the
white community. People simply shrugged their shoulders, explaining
that this was how the Blacks had to be treate d, according to the precepts
of their own “ Kaffir Law.”
98
After several weeks of listening to such comments, however, Froude
began to fall in with the necessity of accepting this view. A public inves-
tigation might serve the dictates of justice, but, from the perspective of
imperial policy, it would lead to disastrous results. In the first place, it
would embolden the Blacks not to revolts or outrages, but to sauciness,
indiscipline, and the migratory habits to which they were naturally
prone. Even worse, however, it would inflame white opi nion against
interfering liberals from London, and completely stifle any chance of
getting the Boer republics to agree to the imperial federation that was
Carnarvon’s (and Froude’s) ultimate aim. The Boers were essential, not
merely because they constituted the majority of the white population,
but because they had rooted themselves organically in the South African
soil, in ways that the recent British settlers had yet to learn. Their treat-
ment of the natives was exemplary, Froude believed: all migratory tribes
were expelled from their territories, and Blacks were permitted to live
among them only as laborers in their homes and on their farms. The
British, by contrast, oscillated between a false philanthropy that rewarded
97
Edgar Brookes and Colin De B. Webb, A History of Natal (Pietermaritzburg, 1965);
George W. Cox, The Life of John William Colenso, Bishop of Natal, 2 vols. (London,
1888), II: 313–448.
98
Froude, “South African Journal,” 363, 345, 368; Carnarvon Papers, British Library,
London, Add. MSS, 60798, Carnarvon to Froude, November 4, 1874, December 24,
1874; Froude to Carnarvon, February 16, 1875, June 21, 1875, September 11, 1875,
September 20, 1875, October 4, 1875.
Ethnic evolution and Froude’s imperial scheme 191
idleness and a violent brutality to expunge the problems that false philan-
thropy had spawn ed.
99
As in Ireland, Froude’ s understanding of the colony derived from his
fixation with a fateful encounter between seventeenth-century Protestant
settlers and a civilization-resistant, work-averse population of indigenes.
To prise moral victory of the former over the latter, it was necessary to
hold back the tide of progress and play the progress narrative in reverse.
In South Africa, the association of early Protestantism with the spirit of
productive capitalism was no longer to be seen. The bordering role, once
imbued wi th the glamour of Sco tt’s characters, who could wander across
frontiers, pass easily between cultures, and mediate opposing creeds, was
now to be associated with the “backward” natives and anathematized in
hostile tones. By contrast, the Boers were praised for their steadfast racial
endurance, their determination to hold onto timeworn values, and their
stubborn resistance to the cant of modernity. All the old qualities of
the Tudor yeoman were embodied in these living fossils, stuck in the
mind-set of the sixteenth century. Their treks were taken not for novelty
or adventure, but to escape the maws of a metastasizing market, so that
they might replicate the ways of their grandfathers in a new country.
He comes on the ground in a wagon. He builds sheds or pens for his stock ... The
garden being planted, he builds a modest house ... In his hall he places his old
tables, which his father brought from the Colony ... He has generally but one
book – a large clasped Bible, with the births, deaths and marriages of the family for
half a dozen generations on the flyleaf ... There he lives and begets a huge
family ... When a son or daughter marries, another house is built for them on
the property; fresh land is brought under tillage, and the Transvaal is thus being
gradually filled up in patriarchal fashion by a people who know nothing of the
[outside] world.
100
By contrast the black pastoralists had to be forbidden from continuing
in the ways of their peripatetic forefathers. They had to be forced to adapt
to a white settler world that represented the arrested development of early
modern European society. “Under his own chief in the forest,” Froude
allowed, the Negro warrior “is at least a man.”
Trained and disciplined under European authority he might become as fine a
specimen of manhood as an English or Irish policeman ... Do we think the black
races so superior to Europeans that they can improve without training? Our
grandfathers treated them like cattle; we treat them as if it were a sin to lay them
under the same restraint as our own children. Our cruelty and our tenderness are
alike fatal to them; the second, perhaps, is the most fatal of the two.
101
99
Carnarvon Papers, Froude to Carnarvon, October 20, 1875, December 1, 1875.
100
Froude, Two Lectures,35–6.
101
Froude, “South African Journal,” 362.
192 Re-imagining a Greater Britain
9 Racial exclusion and Froude’s oceanic dream
When Froude returned to London after two trips to South Africa, he was
disillusioned and exhausted. The mission to promote South African
federation had accomplished nothing. Through ill-timed speeches
and injudicious statements, he had made himself persona non grata
throughout the region, and had alienated all the relevant ethnic groups.
Never again would he be tempted to give up writing for active politics. Yet
even Froude’s writing was becoming a source of frustration. Between
1881 and 1884, his masculinity was tested, as he discharged his respon-
sibilities as Carlyle’s biographer while simultaneously absorbing the ire
of those hero-worshippers who could not bear to admit that the Sage
of Chelsea had feet of clay. Did the dutiful disciple feel a slight twinge of
oedipal sa tisfaction as he outed Carlyle for his impotence, his anti-
Semitism, and his mistreatment of Jane? Froude, by contrast, had enjoyed
two happy, productive marriages, channeled his ethnic stereotypes into
his writing, and delighted in conversation with exotics of every kind.
102
Yet as he passed middle age, Froude’s temperament soured and his
alienation from contemporary life increased. The world had not listened
to his prophecies, and the evils he had predicted were now at hand. Amid
class divisions and democratic demagoguery, everything good in the
English heritage seemed to be at risk.
What England was to become was to be seen already in the enormously extended
suburbs of London and our great manufacturing cities; miles upon miles of
squalid lanes, each house the duplicate of its neighbour: the dirty street in front,
the dirty yard behind, the fetid smell from ill-made sewers, the public house at the
street corners. Here with no sight of a green field, with no knowledge of flowers or
forest, the blue heavens themselves dirtied with soot.
103
Trapped within this putrid and phthisic environment, the stalwart
sons of Albion would gradually lose their manly vigor, turn unavailingly
against their betters, and usher in the degeneration of the Anglo-Saxon
race. Fortunately, the solution to all these problems was evident, if
only the governing classes would return to their responsibilities. In her
far-flung Empire, Britain had achieved a providential perimeter, which
offered both the means of protecting herself in great power struggles
and a safety valve for the surplus population crowding within the Home
Island. Once again, it was the wisdom of Britain’s sixteenth-century
rulers that made it possible for her nineteenth-century crisis to be
resolved.
102
DF, II: 471–500; MJAF, 153–208.
103
J. A. Froude, Oceana (New York, 1886), 8.
Racial exclusion and Froude’s oceanic dream 193
It appeared as if the genius of England, anticipating the inevitable increase [of
population and industry] had provided beforehand for the distribution of it.
English enterprise had occupied the fairest spots upon the globe where there was
still soil and sunshine boundless and life-giving; where the race might for ages
renew its mighty youth, bring forth as many millions as it would, and would still
have the means to breed and rear them strong as the best which she had produced
in her early prime.
104
Here we have not merely another celebration of genius of the Tudors,
but a tacit admission that Froude could apprehend his own era only
through plotlines originally devised for his Tudor History. Though the
books of his final decade sold well, they were superfi cial reprises of
his youthful epic, in which the sectarian broils of the sixteenth-century
England were inflated to reappear as racial struggles on a nineteenth-
century global stage. Having graduated from their early modern racial
adolescence, the Anglo-Saxo ns had been loosed upon the seas to conquer
the earth. Other, lesser peoples, who were behindhand in these qualities,
would either be eliminated in the struggle for survival or be comp elled
by the conquering Saxon to surrender and submit. In earlier times, such
racial inferiors might be left to wallow in their preternatural bac k-
wardness. The nineteenth century, however (like the Tudor period, on a
smaller scale), was an era of mounting competition in a crowded world.
For this reason, the defense of Britain required her expansion. Manly
Britons of the com ing generation were enjoined to go out and master the
many-hued native inferiors to be found in myriad Asian, African, and
Indian habitats. After centuries of subju gation to the bracing powe r
of Anglo-Saxon work discipline and imperial control, perhaps they too
would fi nally graduate into the sunlight of freedom.
105
In this complacent mood, Froude was freed to take his long-deferred
Australasian tour. The trip that he had planned nearly forty years earlier
as an undergraduate he now undertook as a sixty-six year old, in the
company of his youngest son. This was indeed an emotionally freighted
voyage, encompassing all the worlds that the historian had lo st and that
the nation might gain. Here, at last, he hoped to fi nd virgin territories for
the transplantation of Anglo-Saxon kin, where the racial and historical
complexities of Ireland and Africa could be kept at bay. He decided to
entitle the record of his trave ls Oceana – at once a tribute to Harrington’s
seventeenth-century old English utopia and a consecration of the New
Britain that his descendants were now constructing across the seas.
106
104
Froude, Oceana, 10.
105
J. A. Froude, The English in the West Indies, or The Bow of Ulysses [1888] (New York,
1890).
106
Froude, Oceana.
194 Re-imagining a Greater Britain