To nineteenth and early twentieth-century scholarship, the early modern expansion of powers like Spain, Portugal, England and Holland, was a necessary preliminary step towards Europe's ultimate domination of the Asian and African continents. Moreover, the relative ease with which colonial powers manhandled regions like North Africa and the Indo-Pak subcontinent suggested that their early modern ‘pioneering’ counterparts must have shared similar experiences. While some historians highlighted superior business concepts (joint-stock companies, profit-sharing) or superior shipbuilding and navigation techniques as the means with which trading powers like the Estado da India and the English East India Company penetrated and overwhelmed Indian Ocean commerce, other scholars boiled it down to the European affinity for using ‘men-of-war, gun, and shot’. The critical underlying assumption of any of these teleological explanations s i that ‘encountered’ cultures were unable to adequately respond to European technology, of course hinting at some deeper and more profound deficiency. Scholarship in recent decades has shorn such confidence and begun to scrutinise this seedling period of interaction between Europe and non-Europe, suggesting that the initial playing ground between ‘encounterer’ and ‘encountered’ was perhaps more level than previously portrayed.

After a lecture I once gave in Boston on Spaniards' treatment of the indigenous peoples of their empire, the mayor rose from the audience to ask me whether I thought English behaviour towards the Irish was not worse. The strength of the Irish legacy in Boston is one of the many signs that make you feel, wherever you go in New England, that you are on the shore of a pond and that the same cultures that you left behind on one side of it have spread to the other with remarkably little change, and remarkably little loss of identity, along the way. In Providence, Rhode Island, the only resident foreign consul is Portuguese; you can buy sweet bread for breakfast or pasteis de Tentúgaltor tea. A parking lot a few blocks from Brown University is marked with the sign, ‘Do Not Park Here Unless You Are Portuguese’. Ancestral homes, ancestral grievances are easily recalled. There are similar patches of Irishness and Portuguese identity dotted here and there all along this coast, mirroring home and looking back across the ocean. They are surrounded with other peoples’ transatlantic reminiscences and continuities. New England is a seaboard civilization, a narrow, sea-soaked coast with a culture shaped by maritime outreach; but, more than that, it is part of a civilization of two seaboards which face each other.

Hardly had the Spaniards and Portuguese established their first footholds in the newly discovered Americas they claimed as their exclusive preserves than their European rivals and enemies were on the scene. In what came to be known as the Spanish Indies they endeavoured to obtain some of the continent's staggering wealth in precious metals. In Brazil they were after the logwood that could be more or less had for the taking. It produced dyes far superior to those then in use in Europe and in great demand in an expanding textile industry, of which that of England was a considerable part. Besides which there was the pleasing prospect that Brazil's great rivers might give access to the silver mining regions of Spanish South America. Such predatory urges were sharpened as Protestantism took root in Western Europe. Convinced that the military strength of Spain, the continent's leading Catholic power, stemmed from American bullion, zealous Protestants believed that could this wealth only be diverted into the right hands the true faith would be saved, its adherents duly rewarded and Spain, deprived of its lifeblood, ruined. But the implementation of this godly strategy was no obstacle to conducting a lucrative commerce with the arch-enemy. Sugar and tobacco, of which the Iberian Americas were soon substantial producers, could be purchased for sale in a growing European market. Equally appealing was the opportunity to sell to Portuguese and Spanish colonists the African slaves their plantation economies demanded. And no less attractive or rewarding was the chance to supply them with those European goods, both luxuries and necessities, which they were forbidden to produce for themselves and which Iberian industries were increasingly unable to provide, or which, through the inadequacies of the Spanish and Portuguese imperial commercial monopoly, were usually in short supply and invariably grossly over-priced.

This article is specifically concerned with ‘American’ agriculture between 1820 and 1930. Let me emphasise straight away how unusual and problematic such an approach is. After all, it covers such disparate phenomena as plantation agriculture in the southern states of the US, the Caribbean, or Brazil, rural household economies working at subsistence level in New England or in the highlands of the Andes in South America, extensive cattle farming in the frontier regions of the southern part of South America, in the west of the USA, and in the north of Mexico and so on. The most varied geographical and climatic conditions for agricultural production can be found in the Americas, ranging from the North American plains to the Argentine Pampa, the highlands of the Andes region and Mexico to the coastal regions on the Atlantic and Pacific including the Caribbean. The extension of this subject becomes all the more apparent when we realise how wide the range of changes really was: in the USA, for example, this era is defined by the transition from an agricultural to an industrial society, in agricultural technology from the simple wooden plough to the tractor, and with regard to work systems, to name just one example, the end of slavery.

In August of 1587 Manteo, an Indian from Croatoan Island, joined a group of English settlers in an attack on the native village of Dasemunkepeuc, located on the coast of present-day North Carolina. These colonists, amongst whom Manteo lived, had landed on Roanoke Island less than a month before, dumped there by a pilot more interested in hunting Spanish prize ships than in carrying colonists to their intended place of settlement along the Chesapeake Bay. The colonists had hoped to re-establish peaceful relations with area natives, and for that reason they relied upon Manteo to act as an interpreter, broker, and intercultural diplomat. The legacy of Anglo-Indian bitterness remaining from Ralph Lane's military settlement, however, which had hastily abandoned the island one year before, was too great for Manteo to overcome. The settlers found themselves that summer in the midst of hostile Indians.

At the end of the Second World War, the islands of Polynesia, Melanesia and Micronesia were all under foreign control. The Netherlands retained West New Guinea even while control of the rest of the Dutch East Indies slipped away, while on the other side of the South Pacific, Chile held Easter Island. Pitcairn, the Gilbert and Ellice Islands, Fiji and the Solomon Islands comprised Britain's Oceanic empire, in addition to informal overlordship of Tonga. France claimed New Caledonia, the French Establishments in Oceania (soon renamed French Polynesia) and Wallis and Futuna. The New Hebrides remained an Anglo-French condominium; Britain, Australia and New Zealand jointly administered Nauru. The United States' territories included older possessions – the Hawaiian islands, American Samoa and Guam – and the former Japanese colonies of the Northern Marianas, Mar-shall Islands and Caroline Islands administered as a United Nations trust territory. Australia controlled Papua and New Guinea (PNG), as well as islands in the Torres Strait and Norfolk Island; New Zealand had Western Samoa, the Cook Islands, Niue and Tokelau. No island group in Oceania, other than New Zealand, was independent.

In his speech of throne of October 17, 1825, the Dutch king William I expressed his concerns on the extremely loss-making Dutch colonial enterprise of that moment. The aftermath of the closing down of the Verenigde Oostindische Compagnie (VOC) in the 1790s and the transfer of the company's indebtedness to the state, threatened to bring about the loss of the Dutch first-rate position on the international colonial forum. Moreover, the fiasco of the so-called liberal interlude of the enlightened Governor-General G. van der Capellen and his often frivolous politics in Java during the period 1816–1826, deeply disillusioned the king. Therefore, William officially announced the appointment of a commissioner-general, a representative provided with extraordinary power and authority who was only supposed to give account direcdy to the king himself. He also informed the States General of the appointment of the governor of the province of SouthBrabant in the Southern Netherlands Leonard du Bus de Gisignies as his commissioner-general on August 10 of the same year.