The American Navy and Liberia: An Address before the American Colonization Society, January 18, 1876

In Short

This historical address functions as both a retrospective on American naval involvement in the founding of Liberia and a contemporary call to action. It documents the early efforts of officers like Robert Stockton and Matthew Perry to secure land and promote stability for African American settlers. The author argues that Liberia represents a vital experiment in self-governance that remains vulnerable to European encroachment and internal strife. By blending personal observation with historical reflection, the text advocates for a proactive, protective American foreign policy to ensure Liberia’s continued independence and prosperity.

The Story

The narrative begins with a survey of the early 19th-century relationship between the U.S. Navy and the fledgling colony of Liberia. The author highlights the "disastrous effort" at Sherbro in 1819 as the starting point of an enduring, if occasionally strained, connection. A central focus is the career of Lieutenant Robert Stockton, who is portrayed as a pivotal figure for his role in securing the land at Cape Mesurado in 1821. Beyond territorial acquisition, the author emphasizes Stockton’s moral character, noting his refusal to use the "cat"—the lash—on his crew, framing this act as a foundational lesson in freedom that prefigured the ideals of the future Liberian Republic.

The account moves through the mid-19th century, drawing upon the testimonials of various naval officers who observed the colony’s growth. These voices collectively describe a transition from a precarious, isolated settlement to a maturing state. The author notes that Commodore Matthew C. Perry, in particular, provided the stability necessary for the colonists to gain confidence, earning the gratitude of local leaders like Governor Russwurm. By the mid-1850s, officers such as Commodore Gregory and Admiral Foote observed that the colony had begun to display the hallmarks of a stable, industrious society, successfully suppressing the regional slave trade and establishing a clear, if still developing, Christian identity.

The arc of the argument pivots to the author’s own experience. Returning to Liberia in 1873 after an absence of twenty-five years, he compares his initial, idealized historical perspective with the reality of the ground. He describes Monrovia as a "fixed fact," stable and resilient, despite the lack of dramatic expansion. He observes a profound psychological shift in the populace: the "shrinking humility" of the former slave-born generation has given way to a new generation defined by self-reliance and hospitality.

However, the conclusion of the address shifts from optimism to warning. The author identifies two primary threats to Liberia: the "anaconda" of British commercial absorption and the internal pressures of tribal conflict with the Mandingo and Grebo peoples. He critiques the financial mismanagement of foreign loans and urges the Liberian government to embrace agriculture and fiscal responsibility. The speech concludes with a pragmatic proposal for the U.S. government to establish a monthly steamship line, utilizing naval vessels to provide both mail service and a continuous, protective presence. He emphasizes that while America can provide this "mantle of protection," the ultimate burden of national survival rests upon the Liberians themselves to prove their capacity for self-rule.

How It Unfolds

The naval legacy The opening section establishes the historical bond between the U.S. Navy and Liberia, focusing on the humanitarian and strategic roles played by officers like Stockton. It reframes the founding of the colony as a mission of moral and physical liberation.

The testimonials of growth The argument shifts to the mid-century period, providing a chorus of naval officers’ accounts that witness Liberia’s transformation from a fragile experiment into a stable, civilization-building Republic. This section serves to validate the progress of the colonists.

A personal return The author provides a vivid, firsthand account of his 1873 visit to Monrovia, contrasting the physical environment with the changed, more independent temper of the inhabitants. This serves as the emotional anchor for the subsequent policy arguments.

The looming threats The narrative turns to the existential dangers facing the Republic, specifically the territorial hunger of British traders and the volatility of internal tribal politics. This section frames Liberia’s survival as a test of its own resolve against external and internal pressures.

A call for action The conclusion proposes a specific, actionable policy: the use of naval mail steamers to secure both trade and sovereignty. The final message is a stern exhortation to the Liberian people to pursue industry and self-discipline.

The People

Robert Stockton serves as the moral archetype of the narrative. Through his early refusal to use corporal punishment and his daring acquisition of territory, he is cast as a man whose personal character directly informed the birth of the Republic.

Matthew C. Perry is portrayed as the stabilizing force who, through his squadron’s presence, fostered the confidence required for the colony to transition toward a more assertive autonomy.

President Roberts appears as the embodiment of Liberian leadership. The author compares his wisdom and ability to that of George Washington, arguing that his presence alone refutes claims regarding the inferiority of the colored race.

The Krooman is introduced as a distinct cultural figure, described as the "Bedouin of the African sea." His role as a skilled, independent boatman illustrates the local character that interacts with, yet remains distinct from, the Americo-Liberian settlers.

The British Trader represents the primary antagonist—an unscrupulous figure whose pursuit of profit and expansion threatens the sovereignty of the Republic.

In Its Own Voice

The first order issued by Lieut. Commanding Stockton to the crew of his little craft, while yet in sight of the shores of America, was to throw overboard the cat, (the lash was then a legal mode of punishment on board of our vessels of war,) informing them that he intended to exact their obedience by some other means.

The author uses this anecdote to illustrate Stockton’s early commitment to humane standards.

In the growth of a new nation, in its consolidation and crystalization, time forms no just measure of progress.

The author uses this observation to defend the modest rate of development in Liberia against critics who expected rapid, industrial-scale growth.

If Liberia is a weak and myopic child, it is not ours to look calmly upon her attempts to walk alone, guessing cruelly as to the chances of her making a safe journey, but it is ours by kind words to encourage her heart and to lead her by the hand until age shall bring strength to her feet and clearness to her vision.

This captures the author’s paternalistic yet supportive view of the relationship between the United States and Liberia.

What It's Really About

At its core, this address is an argument for the legitimacy and potential of the Liberian Republic. The author grapples with the question of whether a post-slavery society, born of "abject poverty" and systemic ignorance, can sustain itself in a world dominated by imperial powers. The underlying theme is the necessity of "intervention"—not as an act of conquest, but as a form of guardianship. He seeks to reconcile the tension between the "self-dependent Anglo-Saxon" model of national success and the unique, faith-based trajectory of a nation he views as a "little cloud out of the sea," destined to serve as a beacon for the regeneration of the African continent.

Why Read It Today

Reading this work today feels like engaging with a primary document of 19th-century American exceptionalism and the complexities of post-abolitionist thought. Readers interested in the history of the American Colonization Society will find a candid, if clearly biased, account of how military officers viewed their role in colonial expansion. The author’s prose is precise and dignified, though contemporary readers should be prepared for the period-typical, often paternalistic, language regarding race and African development.

The book is most valuable for its honest struggle with the "problem of color" and its awareness of the hypocrisy inherent in American anti-slavery sentiments at home versus the neglect of those who actually returned to Africa. What stays with you is the author’s profound sense of unease—he is a man caught between his admiration for the "new born Republic" and his deep-seated anxiety that Liberia’s survival is perpetually threatened by both European rapacity and his own country’s indifference. It is a work that captures the specific, mid-1870s hope that Liberia might stand as a successful test of democratic principles, a hope that provides a revealing window into the era's geopolitical dreams and moral blind spots.