The very act of settling the American continent was, at its core, an act of claiming land. This fundamental desire for territory, for tangible ownership of the earth, became a pervasive and powerful theme within the literature produced during the colonial period. Far from being a static backdrop, land in these writings served as a dynamic force, shaping individual and collective identities, fueling intense conflicts, and defining the very possibility of a new society separate from European constraints. Whether viewed as a divine inheritance, a source of economic prosperity, or a contested space, the land represented a potent symbol of aspiration, struggle, and transformation for the diverse peoples who encountered it.
For many European settlers, particularly those arriving in places like Plymouth or Jamestown in the early 17th century, the land offered an escape from the rigid social hierarchies and economic limitations of their homelands. William Bradford's Of Plymouth Plantation, for instance, depicts the Pilgrims’ arrival as a fulfillment of Providence, a "vast and empty continent" ripe for cultivation and Christianization. The land, in this narrative, is not merely soil but a promised territory, a blank slate upon which a godly commonwealth could be built. This perspective fueled a sense of entitlement and a drive for agricultural self-sufficiency. The ability to clear forests, till fields, and establish farms was a direct measure of success and independence, a stark contrast to the landless poor or indebted tenant farmers of England. The abundance they perceived, even in its wild state, was a powerful lure and a justification for their presence.
However, this settler perspective rarely acknowledged the pre-existing claims and deep connections of Native American populations to the same land. The literature of conflict, often written from the settler viewpoint, frequently portrays Native peoples as obstacles to progress or as inherently wild and untamed, mirroring the perceived wildness of the land itself. Mary Rowlandson's A True History of the Captivity and Restoration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson (1682), while recounting her harrowing experience, frames her captivity within a spiritual battle for survival and eventual restoration to Christian civilization. The Narragansett and other tribes are described in ways that emphasize their perceived savagery, implicitly justifying the relentless encroachment on their ancestral territories. The land, in these accounts, becomes a stage for a moral and military contest, where the "civilized" European's right to dominion is tested against the "uncivilized" native's resistance.
Beyond individual survival and territorial acquisition, the idea of land was integral to the formation of a distinct American identity. Writers like Hector St. John de Crèvecoeur, in his Letters from an American Farmer (1782), articulated a vision of the American as a new man, forged by the opportunities and challenges of this new continent. Crèvecoeur famously asked, "What then is the American, this new man?" and answered that he is one "who leaving behind him all his ancient prejudices and manners, receives new ones from the new mode of life he has embraced, the new government he obeys, and the new rank he holds." This transformation was inextricably linked to the land. It was the act of cultivating this soil, of building homesteads and communities, that supposedly stripped away old-world allegiances and fostered a unique American character. The vastness of the territory, the potential for upward mobility it represented, and the labor required to harness it all contributed to this evolving sense of self.
In conclusion, the theme of land in American colonial literature was far more than a simple geographical setting; it was a central, driving force that shaped narratives of settlement, conflict, and identity. From the divinely ordained inheritance envisioned by Puritan writers to the contested battleground depicted in captivity narratives, and finally to the fertile ground for a new identity articulated by Enlightenment thinkers, land was the physical and symbolic bedrock of the colonial experience. It represented the promise of a better life, the justification for dispossession, and the very crucible in which a new, distinct American identity began to form.