In the 1840s, Sir Charles Lyell, noted British geologist and lecturer, made two trips to North America on what he termed "expeditions of discovery." The accounts of these expeditions are recorded in his often overlooked travel accounts, Travels in North America (1841-42) and Second Visit to the United States (1855). Lyell's narratives present a rare glimpse at education, religion, and, most importantly, race, through the eyes of a man of science well versed in the leading theories of his day. Curiously, in an era when the notion of "progress" was being vigorously contested in virtually all contexts in which the term was employed, whether social, moral, political, or scientific, everywhere Lyell traveled in America he seemed able to discover some evidence of "progress."
It is ironic that as a geologist, Lyell himself challenged the widespread progressionist interpretation of the geological record, but, in terms of mankind, he allowed an exception to the rule. To Lyell, the "moral ends proposed" in humankind's creation--"moral" in broad nineteenth-century usage suggesting anything from social reform to the advancement of knowledge--required that cultural progress be both possible and necessary, and that is precisely what he perceived in various facets of American life. During one of his visits, however, a chance encounter occurred which confronted all of the proto-social scientist's accepted notions regarding race and forced a re-examination of his developing theories concerning America's "progress."
The incident took place as Lyell toured some Indian mounds near present day Natchez, Mississippi. As he stood examining some aboriginal artifacts, he was startled by the appearance of "a wild-looking group of Indians." Lyell's perception of these Native-Americans as "wild" presented him with a puzzling contradiction: how could these "primitive" people before him be of the same race as those who had left behind evidence of a more advanced civilization? Race is a recurrent concern in Lyell's narrative and his record details how, as he travels throughout the slave-holding South, he constructs a form of social science, ultimately concluding that contact with the white race is the key to the advancement of other races. Yet how then could he explain both the "progression" of the black race in America and the apparent regression of the aboriginal race? Race theories of the day only served to make the matter more complex and Lyell, attempting to reconcile his observations with the science at hand, was ultimately forced to turn to the environment for answers. He reasoned that as members of hunter tribes that shirked contact with civilizing forces, Indians had not benefited from the civilizing influences of the more advanced white race and, therefore, had condemned themselves to a state of regression. This rationalization depicts Lyell stumbling upon complexities that do not readily fit into the typical patterns.
It is within these ruminations on race that we find him desperately searching for a theory that will "fit" the conflicting evidence he has observed. His attempt to reconcile these issues with his desire to depict America as a land of "progress" articulates a crucial factor in the ideological fissure that would eventually lead to the terrible rupture of the Civil War: How could a country "progress" if it encompassed the enslavement of another race? Such attempts demonstrate that Lyell is deserving of additional study as a travel writer and social commentator.
The University of Minnesota is an equal opportunity educator and
employer.
© Regents of the University of Minnesota, 1997.