Darwin and The Curious Case of Jemmy Button

While Charles Darwin’s voyage of discovery aboard the Beagle helped spur on the naturalist’s later theory of evolution, his 1832-1835 diary from South America sometimes makes for uncomfortable reading.  In Tierra del Fuego, an archipelago located at the southern tip of South America, young Darwin encountered the indigenous “other,” who the naturalist referred to as “savages,” “barbarians,” “miserable,” and “worthless vagabonds.”  Though such comments may appear jarring, Darwin engaged in imperialist chest-thumping throughout his travels while disparaging indigenous peoples, and Chile proved no exception.

It’s striking to read Darwin’s derisive descriptions of the Fuegian people at Port Famine on the Strait of Magellan.  When the Beagle opened fire on natives, the naturalist remarked “it was most ludicrous to watch through a glass the Indians.”  It was very “amusing,” Darwin writes, to see the natives’ “bold defiance.”  The crew fired muskets, which in turn caused Fuegians to hide behind rocks.  The natives fired their arrows, though all “fell short of the boat, and the officer as he pointed at them laughed.”

From a scientific standpoint, Darwin’s observations in Chile dealing with everything from glaciers to volcanoes to earthquakes proved significant.  How should we reconcile such positive contributions with Darwin’s imperial British mindset?  Last year, I traveled to the Chilean city of Punta Arenas, located just across from Tierra del Fuego Island.  There, I met Lidia González, a Yagán indigenous woman who represented her people as a delegate to the Chilean constitutional convention several years ago.  Though she did not believe Fuegians were fundamentally violent, they could have felt threatened or provoked.  “If indigenous peoples reacted in that way,” she said, “it was out of pain,” and reflected defensiveness since “there was an abuse of power against us.”

Felipe Martínez, an anthropologist at Pontifical Catholic University of Chile in Santiago, declared there was little value placed on cultural diversity at the time, and Darwin, like many others, held Eurocentric views.   There is a wider difficulty, Martínez added, when it comes to separating the myth of Darwin from the man himself, as the naturalist enjoys iconic status.  As a result, “the person…the real person, sometimes remains somewhat obscured.”

One of the most vexing aspects of Darwin’s narrative has to do with the case of Jemmy Button or Orundellico.  On a previous voyage to Chile in 1830, Beagle captain Robert FitzRoy had apprehended the fourteen-year-old Yagán boy, along with three other Alacaluf indigenous natives (also known as Kawésqar), after one of the ship’s whaleboats was stolen.  Orundellico was given the new name of Button, since he was purchased with a mother of pearl button.  However, neither Orundellico nor his mother initially believed the youth was being shipped further than a nearby island.  When her son failed to reappear, Orundellico’s mother became “inconsolable.”  Beside herself with grief, she searched everywhere to no avail.

Oblivious to such concerns, FitzRoy decided to take all four hostages back to England “to become useful as interpreters, and be the means of establishing a friendly disposition towards Englishmen on the part of their countrymen.”  The captives could learn English, the captain reasoned, along with other subjects associated with superior European culture, before being returned to their homeland, thereby participating in an unwitting sociological experiment.

One of the Alacaluf men died shortly after arriving in England, though FitzRoy appears to have shown concern for the others, and Button became a celebrity after newspapers published details about the Yagán.  The youth studied with his companions at Saint Mary’s School and even made an appearance at the court of St. James’s before King William IV and Queen Adelaide.

Should we view Button’s time in England as “an astonishing act of imperialism,” or something a bit more benign?  One must be careful to place figures in historical context, Martínez said, but FitzRoy engaged in kidnapping by modern-day standards.  Unfortunately, such immoral conduct was hardly out of the ordinary at the time, with Europeans displaying indigenous peoples at circus events, or subjecting natives to baseless phrenological experiments.  In keeping with nineteenth century benevolence, FitzRoy hoped to ship his Christianized subjects back to the “dark continent,” where they would spread civilized values.

During the 1832 return voyage to Tierra del Fuego, Darwin befriended Button, declaring his companion was a “universal favorite” onboard.  “The expression of his face,” Darwin wrote, “at once showed his nice disposition.  He was merry and often laughed, and was remarkably sympathetic with any one in pain: when the water was rough, I was often a little sea-sick, and he used to come to me and say in a plaintive voice, ‘poor, poor fellow!’”  Darwin related that Button was scrupulous in appearance and developed a liking for fine clothes.  Darwin paints a somewhat “vain” picture of his friend: “he used always to wear gloves, his hair was neatly cut, and he was distressed if his well-polished shoes were dirtied.  He was fond of admiring himself in a looking glass.”

Unfortunately, we don’t have Button’s own side of the story and relying on Darwin only provides a partial view.  A touching video seeks to fill this void, envisioning how indigenous captives might have perceived their fate.  González said the case of Jemmy Button was quite sad.  The Yagán, she added, share mixed feelings about the way they have been historically depicted.  On the other hand, she personally felt grateful that Darwin had seen fit to jot down his observations, since the account serves as a useful documentary source.  Other Yagán have remarked that “the real story is not the one told,” since Darwin collaborated to take indigenous people “to a place of isolation, away from society, without rights, in a dehumanizing process”.

Darwin’s friendship with Button proved fateful, since the indigenous man influenced and inspired the naturalist’s later evolutionary thought.  Specifically, Button’s ability to take on the character of a “foppish English gentleman” as well as a naked hunter intrigued Darwin.  The scientist was reticent, however, when it came to commenting about circumstances surrounding his companion’s abduction.  Indeed, Darwin even argued FitzRoy should be “rewarded” for the “many generous sacrifices which he made for these Fuegians.”  In time, the scientist hoped FitzRoy’s “noble hope” of trying to civilize the Fuegians would reap benefits amongst Button and his tribal descendants.

Though jarring, Darwin’s comments echo previous episodes from the Beagle voyage.  Indeed, it would appear the young scientist was either ignorant or uncurious about the plight of indigenous peoples in Uruguay.  In neighboring Argentina, meanwhile, it was much more difficult to ignore atrocities, though the naturalist embraced objectionable views concerning the inevitable and inescapable march of progress on the pampas.  Darwin therefore was similarly, and not surprisingly, disdainful of Fuegian society.  “Perfect equality among the individuals composing the Fuegian tribes,” he wrote, “must for a long time retard their civilization.  As we see those animals, whose instinct compels them to live in society and obey a chief, are most capable of improvement, so is it with the races of mankind.”

Even as Darwin failed to criticize Button’s abduction, the naturalist was incredulous that his companion aboard the Beagle might willingly forsake British ways.  The scientist claims the Fuegians “would, I am sure, have been glad to have retained their new habits” after spending three years with “civilized men.”  Unfortunately, however, Button “was of a patriotic disposition; and he liked to praise his own tribe and country.”  After FitzRoy repatriated Button and the other Fuegians in a Protestant mission station, Darwin claims Button was “disconsolate” even though his companion had been finally reunited with his mother and fellow people.

The Beagle sailed way, but sometime later returned.  This time the crew found Button in high spirits, which confused Darwin.  Though Button had by this point reverted to “a thin, haggard savage, with long disordered hair, and naked, except a bit of blanket round his waist,” the Fuegian related that “he was not cold, that his relations were very good people, and that he did not wish to go back to England.”  When FitzRoy realized that Button had gone back to his old ways, this caused the captain to sink into a deep depression, since the entire basis for the civilizing mission had failed.

On the other hand, González remarked that Button’s decision to return to his people was hardly surprising, and it’s exactly what she would have done.  For thousands of years, the Yagán had been a nomadic group, living for the most part on canoes and moving around the various bays and channels of Tierra del Fuego in tandem with the tides, weather and food availability.  Though indigenous peoples had to withstand cold and rain, the Yagán lacked clothing and whilst on land slept in wigwams.

Across town in Punta Arenas, I paid a visit to the Salesian Maggiorino Borgatello Museum which showcases ethnographic exhibits dealing with Fuegian peoples.  Salvatore Cirillo, the director, said British attempts to make indigenous peoples more “civilized” didn’t really work.  The natives, he said, “missed their past lives” and “loved their nomadic way of life.”

On the other hand, perhaps Button’s story is a bit more complicated.  According to Darwin, the Fuegian had difficulty regaining his own language which he “had almost forgotten.”  Meanwhile, Button’s English was “very imperfect.”  Whatever the case, for the rest of his life the Fuegian continued to use English and even went by his new English name.  Could it be Button now found himself at loose ends, caught between two different cultures?  In later years, Darwin’s companion reportedly went back and forth between dressing in English clothes and going naked.

Though Button welcomed missionaries, he and his family did not embrace Anglicanism.  Writing later in The Descent of Man, Darwin declared Button never grasped the plan to convert Fuegians to Christianity.  The scientist even seemed to take Button’s side in the matter, noting that his former companion displayed “justifiable pride” in maintaining “there was no devil in his land.”  In 1859, following mounting tensions, Fuegians hailing from different groups massacred eight European missionaries.  Though Button was reportedly present at the massacre, he later denied any responsibility for the attack while testifying before an enquiry.  British authorities deemed him innocent of any charges, save sharing in plunder.

The story doesn’t end there, however, for we must consider the lasting impact Button had upon Darwin’s thought.  Though it seems clear Button never became a typical English gentleman, the contrast between indigenous peoples onboard and supposedly more savage natives in Tierra del Fuego convinced Darwin that humans were adaptable.  Paradoxically, even though indigenous peoples and Europeans were vastly different from each other “in mind,” the Fuegians shared “many little traits of character” with the Beagle’s crew.  It was only differing levels of education and “civilization” that separated the two.

Perhaps, even Button’s original Fuegian compatriots shared something in common with more civilized folk.  Tierra del Fuego, Darwin notes, was “a broken mass of wild rocks, lofty hills, and useless forests: and these are viewed through mists and endless storms.”  Despite this unforgiving character, the archipelago had “fitted” the Fuegian to the climate “and the productions of his miserable country.”  That is to say, even though Fuegians displayed a “savage” character, Darwin recognized their common humanity and capacity to survive in a harsh environment.  Writing decades later, the scientist suggested that emotions were universal, thereby laying the necessary groundwork for evolutionary psychology.

Some anthropologists have given Darwin credit for drawing “innovative and insightful” conclusions in the Descent of Man, one of the most significant works in the history of evolutionary science.  Darwin’s argument that “differences between humans and other animals were of degree, not of kind, was trailblazing.”  On the other hand, some of Darwin’s assertions proved “dismally, and dangerously, wrong.”  The naturalist depicted indigenous peoples as less than European in their abilities and even went so far as to justify imperialism.  Though students are taught that Darwin was the genius ‘father of evolutionary theory,’ “they should also be taught Darwin as an English man with injurious and unfounded prejudices that warped his view of data and experience.”

Other scientists are far less charitable, remarking “any attempt to separate a ‘good’ Darwin from a ‘bad’ Social Darwinist cannot be sustained against a careful reading of Darwin’s own writing.  He enthusiastically endorsed his cousin Francis Galton’s view of hereditary genius transmitted down the male line, and nodded cautiously towards eugenics.  During the 150 years since Darwin wrote such views on race, gender and eugenics, whilst sometimes subterranean, they have never entirely vanished; a sorry history, often told.”

Which Darwin is most worth highlighting, the idealistic naturalist who believed in our common humanity, or the Englishman who disparaged savagery amongst the Fuegians?  In later years, the scientist’s ideas were tied to progress and civilization amid scorched earth campaigns directed against indigenous peoples.  European settlers, backed up by the Argentine and Chilean governments, attempted to wipe out the Yagán in a cruel genocidal operation, resulting in drastic declines of the population.  In addition, epidemic diseases wiped out many, including Button himself.  Overwhelmed by waves of sailors, whalers, sealers, miners, missionaries, sheep herders and loggers, remaining Yagán were forced to work for outsiders on formerly owned indigenous land.

Back in Punta Arenas, González reflects on the plight of her people.  To this day, she remarked, racism against the Yagán persists, with indigenous peoples having to prove themselves by working twice as hard as others.  González’s mother, Cristina Calderón, was the last fluent Yagán speaker and passed away in 2022.  Currently, González is learning the Yagán language herself, and in time the community hopes to bring back the native tongue for future generations.  The Yagán are also doing their utmost to preserve other traditions such as basketry and canoe-making.

Like Button, González has had the opportunity to travel but feels most comfortable on Navarino Island to the south, where she grew up.  “The Yagán lived in the area for 7,000 years,” she said, “and we still feel that connection to the sea.  There, I can find inner peace and just be.  Living in the natural environment is priceless.”  From Button and his experiences with Darwin aboard the Beagle to the present day, the story of the Yagán is an enduring one of hardiness and cultural survival.