At the end of the 17th century, Scotland was in a severe economic and social crisis. A series of wars and successive bad harvests left the already impoverished country on the brink of famine. Crowds of destitute peasants flocked to Edinburgh from the countryside, joining the homeless who roamed the streets. Moreover, this small kingdom on the outskirts of Europe had suffered for decades from what is now known as the brain drain. One of those who left their homeland in search of a better future was William Paterson, a highly successful entrepreneur who found a temporary home in London. It was he who came up with a brilliant plan to get the country out of its economic hole – Scotland could only save itself by establishing its own colony.
He convinced the Rojaks that the best place to do it was Central America, an uninhabited but supposedly extremely fertile patch of land on the eastern, Atlantic coast of what is now Panama. Darien, as this paradise on earth was called, could have become the most important trading centre in the Western Hemisphere because of its location. The shortest sea route from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean at that time was via Cape Horn, the southernmost point of Latin America.
Paterson reckoned that the establishment of a colony in Darien could significantly shorten this route. Ships arriving from the Atlantic Ocean could unload their goods in Darien, Scotland, and from there they could be transported overland to the Pacific coast, where they would continue their eastward journey. Scotland would, of course, charge heavily for its freight forwarding services. William Paterson’s dream came true two hundred years later, when the first ship sailed into the Panama Canal in 1914.
Paterson’s ambitious proposal was met with two hands by his desperate countrymen and in June 1695, the Scottish Darien Company was formed, modelled on the great English trading companies that dominated the world’s maritime trade. Its first task was to establish a colony on the Isthmus of Panama. Huge numbers of Scots invested all their savings in the company, while those without assets offered their hands and sweat. There would be enough work for everyone in the colony, Paterson explained. For Scotland, Darien was supposed to be a lifeline and a ticket to the world of trading superpowers, but the plan failed spectacularly in just a few years.
The vast majority of people who left Scotland for the New World died in the jungles of an unreconstructed colony. The money invested in society has all evaporated. By some calculations, more than a fifth of all the capital that the people of Scotland possessed was gone, and the country was threatened with bankruptcy as well as famine. The worst blow to proud Scots came just a few years after the Darien disaster. In 1707, a humiliated and impoverished Scotland agreed to unify with England. The Kingdom of Great Britain was born and Scotland had to give up its independence for good.
Complicated family relations
At the time Paterson was devising his ambitious plan, Scotland was part of the personal union of King William III. The Kingdom of Wales was part of the union of the Kingdom of Scotland and the Crown of Ireland. Ireland was formally a kingdom, but it was completely under the influence of London. Scotland, on the other hand, was a de facto independent state, with its own parliament, tax policy and culture.
But it was also underdeveloped and dangerously dependent on its southern neighbour, which had already spread its colonial tentacles across the globe and set the rules of trade on land and sea. Since neighbours are not chosen, the history of the two countries has always been closely intertwined. Scotland was in a subordinate position vis-à-vis England, and Darien was the younger brother’s attempt to wriggle out of the stranglehold of the elder brother.
Scots also had to seek their fortune abroad because poverty was rife at home. The Scots bitterly joked that in their homeland they only knew the Nine Commandments because there was nothing to steal. The English were also fond of saying that Edinburgh was one of the dirtiest cities in Europe, with lice and the smell of cow excrement in the air. That’s why guests from the south didn’t even take off their gloves when they went to bed in Scotland.
The people there were also, to put it mildly, something special. The priests were said to be more like blazers, and the Scottish women were said to know no shame and walked the streets half naked. Although the English descriptions of Edinburgh are not to be entirely trusted, it should be borne in mind that Scotland at the end of the 17th century certainly did not have a reputation for being a land of high fashion.
It was, at best, a country of emigrants. Scots were scattered all over the world – from neighbouring countries to America and other English colonies in the New World. Even in Poland, there were tens of thousands of Scots. Like all emigrants, they left home in search of a better future.
By the end of the 17th century, Scotland’s demographic picture had deteriorated further. The country had suffered seven bad harvests in a row and nearly 10% of the population had died of starvation. Even more Scots have emigrated. Even William Paterson, the father of Darien, earned his living abroad, and more than successfully. Although he came from a poor family, he managed to get rich and make a name for himself in London business circles.
He was an honest and driven businessman, even if some people thought he was a freak. In a land of whisky and brandy, he was one of the few who had never touched alcohol. He was also a tolerant man, which caused him a great deal of trouble in a society dominated by the pious. He was also extremely ambitious, and liked to embark on ambitious plans. For example, the Bank of England was founded on his idea, and he won many plaudits for this. His second life project was a complete failure, although he fought for it to the end. Paterson took the whole of Scotland with him into the abyss with the Darien colony plan.
A ray of hope
The idea for the colony came to him when he met Lionel Wafer, a Welsh sailor, who told him about Darien, a fairy-tale place where the soil is so fertile that vegetables thrive all year round. Not far away, there was a vast forest with trees so large that the sale of timber alone could finance the entire expedition.
Wafer, who has also published a book on Darien, added that there are Indians there who have nothing to fear. He knew them well, having lived with them for several months. They were very calm and relaxed and the men did not beat their wives even when they were drunk. He was sure that they would be delighted to see the Scots arrive, because they hated the Spanish most of all, who were trying to take their land by force.
Paterson listened to Wafer’s story with interest, but unconsciously missed many details. His business instinct, which should have protected him from offers that seemed too good to be true, let him down.
For several years, he searched for investors who would be willing to support his plan to establish a colony. He started where the most money was being made on the Island. He had a number of acquaintances in London, and in November 1695 he managed to convince a few wealthy men that Darien was a good investment. The Scottish Darien Company, which had been formed only a few months before, had its first investors.
Already then, a problem arose which should have been a sign of alarm for Paterson. Although the Scottish Company had been founded with the tacit blessing of King William, the English had been throwing stones at it from the start. The famous English East India Company saw in the Scottish copy a potential rival that could threaten its monopoly of the maritime trade. The Scots had to fight for their place in the sun against one of the richest trading companies in the world.
The English East India Company immediately began to put pressure on Paterson’s investors and lobby against Scottish interests in the English Parliament. In short order, the Scottish Darien Company was left penniless as investors cautiously withdrew.
Paterson had no choice but to turn to his impoverished compatriots. The response was overwhelming. “People come in droves from all corners of the kingdom – rich, poor, blind and lame. They would all like to contribute some money and meet William Paterson in person,” wrote one local who later joined the expedition to the New World.
Meanwhile, the unfortunate Paterson has become embroiled in a scandal. His assistant stole a large sum of money from the company’s cash register and disappeared. Although investigators found that Paterson was not directly responsible for the theft, he was forced to resign from the board of the company he had single-handedly put on its feet.
Despite this, the Scottish trading company has raised more money in a few months than ever before. Anyone with a few pounds in their pocket became a shareholder – noblemen, sailors, merchants, lawyers, blacksmiths, farmers, tailors, teachers and many others. Every Scottish family was connected in one way or another to a society that represented a glimmer of hope for a country on the brink of famine.
New Caledonia
With the money raised, the company had five ships built – Unicorn, St Andrew, Caledonia, Endeavour and Dolphin. Along with the hopes of the whole of Scotland, the ships carried all the goods with which the colonists intended to tame the Central American jungle and establish the largest trading centre in the Western Hemisphere. The choice of goods showed that they had no idea what they were getting into.
In addition to the usual things needed to build a colony, such as nails, shovels and various tools, the Scots took a lot of useless junk with them. They took to the New World three carriages (without horses), 9 irons, 100 bed covers, more than 300 Bibles, nearly 3000 catechisms, about 1500 hats and hundreds of wigs, mirrors and women’s gloves.
Since Paterson had heard from an English sailor that the Indians had long and luxuriant hair, they loaded a few hundred more combs in the hold, just in case. They were soon disappointed to find that the Indians were not interested in God’s Word or in the care of their hair. The shaggy wigs that were an indispensable part of the men’s wardrobe at home turned into sticky torture devices in the tropical heat.
In July 1698, the expedition set sail from Edinburgh harbour for Darien. Aboard the five ships were some 1 200 men brimming with optimism. The colonists were a motley crew. The wealthier members of the expedition, such as soldiers and sailors, had hopes of at least some glory in addition to the profits of trade. There were also men on board without a broken pair, who were promised a piece of land in a future colony by the company in return for their hard labour. The expedition also included a few doctors and priests, and a printer who was charged with writing a written record of the exploit.
Virtually all of them were Scottish, although a few hundred didn’t even speak English. They were people from the remote Scottish Highlands who spoke Gaelic. There was also a Jew in the expedition who earned his place in the cabin because he spoke and wrote six languages fluently. The new colony needed every one of them.
The Scots arrived in Darien on 2 November 1698 and christened their new home New Caledonia – the name given by the Romans to the land north of Hadrian’s Wall, where today’s Scotland lies. New Caledonia was situated on a small bay that ran into the Isthmus of Panama. It was sheltered from the Atlantic Ocean by a peninsula to the west, where the Scots planted their flag. Palisades were erected and cannon were unloaded from ships. The result was a fort they called Fort St Andrew. Robert Pennecuik, the commander of the expedition, looked on with pride at his men who, on the other side of the world, had built a future with their own hands, even for those Scots who remained at home.
Paradise with a flaw
Immediately on arrival, they were visited by local Kuna Indians. The Scots explained that, with their permission, they would like to build a small town in Darien. They came in peace and were only interested in trade, they almost apologised. The Indians were in good humour and had nothing against the Scots. The meeting was marked by brunch and high-flown words of friendship and cooperation. The Indians did not leave for home until late in the morning, but, much to the disappointment of the Scots, they did not take any comb or other trinket with them. This was a bad sign for ambitious traders.
The first morning in New Caledonia began with a headache, not the result of a pleasant encounter with the locals. They realised immediately that Darien was anything but heaven on earth. The intolerable heat and impenetrable, dense jungle made life in the fledgling colony very difficult.
The soil may have been fertile, but they could not have known it, as it was covered with lush vegetation that was impossible to penetrate without a machete. Just walking through the primeval forest was so torturous that no one thought of farming. The high humidity made every task a chore. But there was no shortage of tasks. First they set about building the capital of the colony, New Edinburgh, which would have to have cobbled streets, a customs office, a church and all the other facilities of a commercial centre.
The Scottish dream collided with a harsh tropical reality. The establishment of the colony in the jungle was very slow. The food supplies on the ships were poorly stored, so that within a few weeks almost all the meat had rotted and the flour sacks were infested with worms. The men who were building the future capital were malnourished and exhausted from the daily toil in the intense heat. The fate of the noble enterprise, as the expedition was called in Scotland, was seriously threatened.
On Christmas Eve, less than two months after arriving in Darien, the leaders of the expedition gathered on board the St Andrew to discuss the way forward with an indispensable glass of brandy. Everyone agreed that the most pressing problem was the lack of food. So, over the next few days, three boats set sail from the bay with the task of buying as much food as possible at any cost in the nearby ports.
The initial enthusiasm had almost dried up by then, but the Scots consoled themselves with the fact that every beginning is difficult. The responsibility they felt towards their compatriots back home meant that they could not throw in the towel, and the colony continued to be built. The men still fought bravely against the jungle, but when winter turned to spring, all work stopped. That was the beginning of the rainy season in Darien.
Although the Scots grew up in a country known for its acid weather, tropical downpours were a different story. The rain pounded relentlessly on huddled people who sought shelter in vain. New Edinburgh never became a real city and was more like a military tent village.
An account without an innkeeper
Soaked and sick colonists were crammed into tents – without food and without help. Of the three ships that left Darien in search of food, only two returned. Both brought only disappointment and bad news. Demand for Scottish mirrors and gloves was apparently quite poor in the new world. The third ship and its crew were captured by the Spanish.
The Spanish empire, which controlled large parts of Central and South America, was another factor that the Scots did not take into account when planning their expedition. The other factor they had overlooked, the tropical climate, began to show its teeth in the spring.
The exhausted colonists were dying like flies from malaria and malnutrition. Many lives were also taken by dysentery, which accompanied the expedition from the start. In New Caledonia, food and dry clothes were scarce, and alcohol was the only thing in short supply. Patients relieved their pain with brandy, which in reality only hastened death. In March 1699, more than ten deaths a day were recorded – the only project in New Caledonia that never died was the building of a cemetery. Even the leaders of the expedition, who had special privileges and access to hidden food supplies, were at the end of their rope and were living aboard ships. Paterson’s wife and all the doctors and priests also died.
In May 1699, a little more than half a year after their arrival in Darien, news reached the Scots that finally buried their hopes of success in their noble venture. King William issued a proclamation forbidding any English subject to come to the aid of the Scottish colonists. No ship flying the English flag was allowed to trade with Scottish ships, and no English port – from the eastern shores of Canada to the Caribbean Sea – was allowed to give them a berth.
The King’s proclamation was an understandable move given the geopolitical circumstances. England was on good terms with Spain, and the establishment of a Scottish colony in Spain’s backyard could have threatened the status quo. King William did wear the Scottish crown, but for a time he had to forget the interests of his Scottish subjects. Maintaining good Anglo-Spanish relations was far more important than the fate of a marginal colony that was doomed to failure anyway.
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A complete fiasco
In the summer, in the sodden tents of New Edinburgh, despair reigned. The King’s proclamation was a knife in the back for the Scots. Time and again, their ships returned to Darien empty-handed. William’s decision exposed all the holes in the Scottish plan and finally clipped the wings of their commercial ambitions. New Caledonia’s days were numbered. Most men wanted to go home – as far away from the jungle, the rain and the unbearable heat as possible.
One of the few who did not give up on this noble venture was William Paterson. Although he was sick and delirious at the time – or perhaps because of it – he tried to convince his fellow sufferers that they had to bear with him a little longer. They had come too far to give up, he told them, the future of Scotland was in their hands, he blew on their souls. It was not long before he too had to accept defeat.
In June 1699, the colony was seized by panic. It came to the Scots’ ears that the Spanish were preparing an attack on Darien. New Caledonia was about to feel the full destructive power of the Spanish Armada. The Isthmus of Panama was an important transport artery, carrying gold from Peruvian mines to ports on Mexico’s Atlantic coast.
The Spanish had been the masters of Central America for two hundred years, but the Scots had clearly not counted on the fact that their interests would sooner or later collide with the establishment of a colony in Darien. In June 1699, however, that is exactly what happened, and the frightened Scots, fearing a Spanish attack, hastily left Darien. They left behind them a deserted tented settlement, an unfinished fort and a large cemetery where lay their comrades, spared the shame that awaited the survivors on their return to their homeland.
The journey home turned into a real calvary. The expedition’s commander, Robert Pennecuik, struggled to find enough healthy men to do all the necessary work on board. Most of the men were completely exhausted. Hundreds of people were lying in the hold in piles of rotting wigs and combs, beyond help. The unbearable hygiene conditions meant that dysentery was rampant on all the ships, and soon the sacks in which the bodies were wrapped before being dumped overboard ran out. Many, like Pennecuik himself, died of the fever, which did not spare those who had lived in better conditions. William Paterson survived, but later recounted that he had no memory of the calamity because of his illness.
Of the five ships, only Caledonia returned to Scotland. The others were stranded somewhere along the way. The Dolphin remained in Spanish hands and the St Andrew anchored in Jamaica, where, despite the English ban, a few dozen exhausted unsold colonists found refuge.
The men from Unicorn even managed to make it to the shores of New England, but Endeavour sank shortly after setting sail. Less than three hundred people returned home. The other nine hundred died in the jungles of the doomed colony or on the way home. The Darien project was a complete failure.
Rising sun
But Scotland’s torment did not end there. For back home, they had no information about what was happening in the colony. It had been months since the last letter from New Caledonia, in which the colonists still wrote about paradise on earth. The enthusiasm for the noble enterprise in the homeland has therefore never dried up.
The Scottish Darien Company raised enough money for a new, even larger expedition, and in August 1699 four ships set sail from Edinburgh for Darien, with more than 1300 souls on board. The name of the largest of these reflected the optimism that prevailed in the country.
The Rising Sun was a magnificent ship. Built in Amsterdam, it was even visited several times by the Russian Tsar Peter the Great, who chatted over a glass of wine on board in the company of Scottish grandees. She was made of the finest German oak, and the sumptuous furnishings of her officers’ cabins would have been the envy of many a Scottish mansion. In addition, the Scots had installed 38 cannons on board to signal to their enemies that they were serious about the Darien colony.
This time, women and children also made the journey, as the Scots were convinced they were travelling to a developed colony. When the expedition left Edinburgh harbour, New Caledonia had in fact been abandoned for two months and its former inhabitants were trembling for their lives somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.
The expedition has been beset by problems since it set sail. On the way to Darien, 160 people died, many of them children, but this was within the expected range. At least that was the opinion of James Byres, the expedition leader. In those days, any ocean voyage was a dangerous undertaking, but such a high death toll was mainly due to poor organisation. The hygiene conditions on board were not the best and those members of the expedition who were in poor health did not survive the voyage.
The rising sun arrived off the coast of New Caledonia on 30 November 1699, almost exactly a year after Scottish ships first dropped anchor in this fairy-tale bay. Instead of a well-kept town with cobbled roads, the colonists were greeted by a ghostly graveyard with more than 400 graves. Instead of the warm sound of church bells, there was the strange screeching of birds. There was no sign of the bustling harbour, where richly laden merchant ships crowded.
“We expected to see our countrymen, but all we saw was a terrible, endless wilderness,” someone wrote. The disappointment was so great that some members of the expedition did not even want to leave the Rising Sun.
Second experiment
The new colonists were in an even worse position than their predecessors, coming to give the colony an extra boost and not expecting to actually build it. They were totally unprepared for such a thing. They had neither the right tools nor enough food. They faced similar problems to the failed colonists – jungle, malnutrition and malaria. They also had the same motivation – the fate of their impoverished homeland was in their hands. Despondency was therefore not an option, despite the difficult circumstances.
On arrival, they were visited by Indians who told them that Paterson and company had left Darien in fear of the Spanish. The news shocked the Scottish ranks and, after much debate, they decided that New Caledonia must be defended at all costs.
Darien was lively again. The newcomers were frantically building huts, digging ditches and repairing the ruined fort, but this time the jungle was also fighting a battle against man. Death dined mercilessly among the men who broke their backs in the desperate heat. Once again, the wealthier colonists lived in the relative comfort of their cabins and only stepped on the ground when someone had to be buried. The fear of a Spanish attack was always in the air and the men became more and more despondent. Many found solace in alcohol, of which there was no shortage this time. Within a few months, New Caledonia had fallen into complete apathy.
The colonists only sobered up in February 1700 when they received an unexpected visit. Alexander Campbell of Fonab was a young officer who had travelled from his homeland and still believed fervently in the success of the noble enterprise. He presented a plan to his countrymen which was so audacious that many questioned the sanity of the man who proposed it.
Campbell suggested attack instead of defence. The Indians told the Scots that a small camp had grown up in the jungle not far away, where the Spanish were amassing an army. Campbell wanted to catch two birds with one stone by attacking – to surprise the enemy and to alarm his numb compatriots.
The colonists apparently still had the courage, as Campbell quickly gathered a few dozen men who were ready to fight. In the cabins of the Rising Sun, however, the atmosphere was different. The leader of the expedition, James Byres, was seized by panic and, fearing Spanish reprisals, he sailed out of Darien in a small boat, neck and nose. Meanwhile, the men ashore were still frantically fortifying Fort St Andrew and preparing for the worst.
One of the few who kept his blood calm was Campbell. The young officer did not know Darien and did not know what traps the primeval forest held. He knew where the enemy was hiding, and that was enough.
The Scots marched on the Spanish camp in mid-February. They were accompanied by a large number of Indians, who played an important role in Campbell’s plan. They knew the jungle well and hated the conquistadors even more than the Scots.
After two days, they arrived at a clearing where a Spanish camp stood, looking as miserable as Fort St Andrew. The Scots rushed on the enemy with all their might and the conflict was over in minutes. The Spaniards showed no great desire to fight and quickly fled into the jungle. For New Caledonia, however, it was a great victory. Campbell and his men gave new hope to their countrymen and the Spanish attack suddenly seemed less imminent.
Epilog
In reality, it was a Pyrrhic victory. The Scots bought some time, but in the long run they had no chance against the Spaniards. Malaria was still rampant among the colonists, and with the arrival of the rainy season, fever had set in.
A few weeks after Campbell’s feat, the first serious Spanish movements began. Not far from the deserted New Edinburgh, more than 600 Spanish troops landed in early March. Huge warships were anchored off the colony’s coast – an ominous warning of imminent defeat. The Spanish did not attack the Scottish positions because they had a better plan. They intended to surround the invaders and force them to surrender. By the end of the month, the Spanish already outnumbered the Scots in New Caledonia by several times, and the colonists had to admit defeat.
In early April 1700, an expedition led by the Rising Sun weighed anchor and sailed into the Caribbean Sea. New Caledonia was no more. The Spanish flag was flying in Darien. The Scots were facing the same calamity as their predecessors – a long journey home. None of the four ships reached Edinburgh. The noble enterprise came to a symbolic end in August 1700, when the Rising Sun sank off the coast of West Virginia.
Of the 1300 colonists, only a few hundred returned to Scotland, and almost all of them were despised – just like their predecessors. Their homeland had placed too much hope in them. The Scots regarded the failure of the expedition as the greatest disgrace in the country’s history. The only man to live up to his reputation in the whole story was Alexander Campbell, who was even awarded a medal of bravery by the Company, specially made for him.
When the first expedition set off for Darien, Scotland was economically ruined. When the last colonist returned from Darien, the situation was even worse. In less than two years, the country was on the brink of bankruptcy. The financial burden of the fiasco was borne by virtually all citizens, as almost every family had at least one member who had participated in one way or another in the noble enterprise. Many paid for the fiasco, not least with their lives.
The Scottish Darien Company’s cash losses amounted to around half a million pounds, a huge sum for those days. By some calculations, it was more than a fifth of all the money the Scots had stashed away in their socks or bank accounts.
New Caledonia was probably doomed from the start, but the hungry and desperate Scots were unable to ignore this. The colony seemed to be the only lifeline, and they decided to take a risky tactic – betting everything on one horse. When the project collapsed, New Caledonia went from being a lifeline to a millstone around the neck of the entire country. Moreover, they were totally unprepared for such an ambitious undertaking and, on top of that, they underestimated their rivals or opponents. Perhaps the most painful consequence of this failed adventure is that Scotland, in establishing a colony, sought to gain economic independence and to strengthen its position on the Island, but achieved the opposite.
In 1707, it had to agree to unify with England and give up its independence for good. The English offered the Scots, among other things, around half a million pounds in exchange for unification, the same amount as the loss of the Scottish Darien Company. The country did indeed emerge from financial hardship with this money, but it had to sacrifice its own laws and Parliament in order to do so. Many in Scotland felt that 1707 was not about the union of two equal countries, but about the annexation of a weaker country to a stronger one. The Scots regained a parliament three hundred years later, in 1999.
