White Lion (1619)

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Group Setting:

Consider reading “The Back Story” and enacting the “Dramatic Reading” prior to playing the song.

The Back Story

Sea captain, John Jope, recounts his journey across the Atlantic to Jamestown, Virginia. Aboard his ship, the White Lion, is a cargo of enslaved Africans captured from their homes in the Ndongo Kingdom of Angola in West Central Africa, 150 miles from the Atlantic coast. Anthony, Isabela, William, Angela, Frances, Margaret, a second and third Anthony, John, Edward and others were so named by Portuguese missionaries after first being captured by the Portuguese and their allies, the Imbangala, as slaves for their trade.¹ Most likely Kimbundu-speaking people, these Angolans had originally been prisoners aboard the São João Bautista bound for modern-day Veracruz on the Gulf coast of New Spain (present-day Mexico) when they were stolen by the White Lion and another English ship, the Treasurer.

Arriving initially at Point Comfort, on the southern tip of the Virginia peninsula late in August 1619, Captain Jope sells “20 and odd Negroes” in exchange for food. Others are then transported to Jamestown, where they are sold again. Three or four days later, the Treasurer arrives in Virginia, where its captain sells two or three additional Africans. Once in Virginia, the Africans are dispersed throughout the colony.²

Dramatic Reading

John Jope heard his wife and children screaming. His body stiffened. He looked down at his feet as if from a mountain top into a dark valley below. The valley seemed to be in motion, but not from creeping mist or a river. The very ground beneath his feet flowed in two directions. His eyes widened as he struggled to make sense of what he saw. Before him streamed what appeared to be an immense colony of ants. They were moving from a pile of something to their anthill and back again on an efficiently coordinated bidirectional highway. On the way to their colony entrance they carried pieces from the pile – as individuals, in pairs and as entire groups. The pile was several times larger than John himself, and as he watched, it slowly but surely began to disappear into the anthill, piece by tiny piece. The pitiful screaming continued, but was fading. 

Gaining courage, he slowly bent to examine the ants, careful not to shift his feet lest he disturb their progress and somehow turn their attention onto him. As he drew closer, a chill raised the hairs on his arms and neck. What he recognized were not ants. They were people. Working silently and efficiently, they disappeared into the hill, returning again for another load. Many were common folk, but there were also members of other classes, merchants and craftsmen, sailors like himself, soldiers young and old. One group stood out from the rest. An orderly procession of cardinals, their crimson robes not quite touching the ground, floated silently along. They surrounded a smaller group of men supporting two long poles, on top of which sat an ornate throne covered in gold. On the throne was the pope, one hand raised slightly with two fingers extended in the sign of benediction. He turned his head slowly to look up at John. As he passed by he smiled.

John opened his eyes, at first unable to move, his shirt soaked with sweat. Morning light forced its way through the stiff curtains and the gulls screeched greedily outside his cabin window. The dream receded and he regained control of his body and mind. The wind was gusting and it was time to leave. He dressed hurriedly and mounted the stairs to the deck where the bos’n was already busy with the crew.

“Bos’n, our skirmish with the Portuguese set us back several good men and a month of repairs. I’ve been grinding my teeth, but today looks like the day. The wind is up. What say you, are we ready to sail?”

“Indeed we are, cap’n John. The hold is stuffed to the gills with ballast and Africans. Any sign of angry seas and we’ll be tossing a few over the side, I reckon.”

“Don’t act too hastily, my man” said John. “We’re being paid excellent coin for this shipment, but only upon safe delivery. On top of that, I’ve got a healthy wager going with Elfrith on the Treasurer. He’s got them packed in like sardines, but I’m banking that more of mine will arrive actually breathing. They’re no good to us dead.” 

“Aye, sir,” replied the bos’n. “No need to be hauling extra food for the fishies!” The bos’n chuckled to himself.

John took a deep breath of sea air. The frightening dream returned momentarily and he hesitated. “My wife will soon be bearing us our fifth child and it’s no small endeavor feeding all those fishies, so I’m counting on you, bos’n. Do your job with speed and I’ll make it worth your trip.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ve got a few mouths of my own waiting back in Liverpool. The money gets spent before I have time to pull it out of my purse. Just when you think you’ve trained them not to need food, one of them ups and dies on you.” He squinted his quirky smile and gave a self congratulatory laugh.

“Right, right,” said John, rolling his eyes. “We’ll get that purse filled up in no time. Now off we go.”

“Off we go, sir!”

*Play the song*

The Whiteness Factor

How does Captain Jope manage to distance himself from the incredible suffering occurring below deck? How does he justify inflicting such pain on other human beings and why would he want to?

Aside from simply making someone disappear (which happened plenty), the next best way to create emotional distance is to reinforce a narrative about a fundamental difference in value. If John Jope can see himself as the highest form of humanity and the enslaved Africans as less than human, he’s off to a good start. Captain Jope’s internalized racial superiority came through a process that teaches all Whites to see ourselves as the norm – for everything we consider good and acceptable and for standards of beauty, intelligence, language, theology, business, justice and all other aspects of culture. This process started before Jope and continues across the generations.

Seeing ourselves as the norm allows us to avoid identifying characteristics of our group, so we seldom speak of ourselves in those terms. We think of ourselves simply as people, humans, individuals. We’re just…normal. If something terrible occurs, like a mass shooting or an overtly racist act, we can frame it as being a problem with one or more individuals – not with our group as a whole. On the other hand, we commonly refer to others with different ethnicities or darker skin in terms of collectives: Native American, Black, Hispanic, Asian. This insistance on seeing ourselves only as individuals makes it easier to maintain emotional distance from oppression that we perpetuate as a group (through systems).

Dehumanizing the Angolans on the White Lion was key to being able to justify the cruelty used to subjugate them. But a corresponding dehumanization was also taking place in the people who came to be known as White. It was the lust for land, wealth and power that drove the evolution of White superiority and racism. Over the centuries, methods for reinforcing Whiteness expanded into all aspects of culture in the American colonies and what is now the United States. Whiteness has burrowed in deeply enough to form a symbiotic relationship with every institution: religion, housing, healthcare, education, tech, industry and manufacturing, the military, finance, entertainment and media, the non-profit sector, the criminal justice system and government. Whiteness is an integral part of the system, and that system is working!

1. Hampton, Four Centuries on the Bay
2. Virginia’s First Africans