The Thief at the End of the World: Rubber, Power, and the Seeds of Empire

Summary (from the publisher): In 1876, a man named Henry Wickham smuggled seventy thousand rubber tree seeds out of the rainforests of Brazil and delivered them to Victorian England'’s most prestigious scientists at Kew Gardens. Those seeds, planted around the world in England'’s colonial outposts, gave rise to the great rubber boom of the early twentieth century, —an explosion of entrepreneurial and scientific industry that would change the world. The story of how Wickham got his hands on those seeds—a sought-after prize for which many suffered and died —is the stuff of legend. In this utterly engaging account of obsession, greed, bravery, and betrayal, author and journalist Joe Jackson brings to life a classic Victorian fortune hunter and the empire that fueled, then abandoned, him.

In his single-minded pursuit of glory, Wickham faced deadly insects, poisonous snakes, horrific illnesses, and, ultimately, the neglect and contempt of the very government he wished to serve. His idealism and determination, as well as his outright thievery, perfectly encapsulate the essential nature of Great Britain'’s colonial adventure in South America. The Thief at the End of the World is a thrilling true story of reckless courage and ambition.

 

Review: This work of non-fiction details the events that unfolded in 1876, when Henry Wickham, a British subject abroad in the Amazon, managed to bring home 70,000 rubber tree seeds to scientists at Kew Gardens in England. In this Victorian age of empire, England would ultimately use these seeds to farm rubber in various colonies, fueling the rubber boom of the early twentieth century. Thanks to Wickham, this easy access to rubber allowed for an explosion in the railroad and automobile industry and led to innovations such as gas masks during both World Wars, but it meant the collapse of the Amazon economy, which had previously been the sole exporter of rubber. This book is also a biography of Henry Wickham, who, although having a vast impact on international economy, led a migratory life full of failed dreams and poverty in outposts around the world.

 

Henry Wickham was born in London in 1846 to a relatively prosperous family. However, his father died young, propelling his family into a much lower social class and forcing his mother to make a living for her three children through a millinery shop. It seems that pursuit of wealth and a rise to his original social setting pushed Henry to make a trip to Brazil as a young man. Henry made multiple trips to the Amazon and eventually convinced his wife, mother, sister and her husband, and brother and his wife to all move to the Amazon and establish a rubber plantation. However, the harsh reality of the tropical setting impeded their success. Henry's mother and sister died in the Amazon, which seems to have pushed Henry to collect the rubber trees to send to England as a means of escape from a jungle that he finally realized would kill him if he stayed. Amazingly, he left without alerting his remaining family, slipping away on a ship with just his wife, Violet. Henry never spoke to or saw his remaining family again.

 

Despite advocating to assist with growth and production of his rubber trees, Henry was brushed aside and compensated with a mere 700 pounds for his efforts to bring the seeds, which weighed nearly one and a half tons (183) to England. He then spent the next twenty years on the edges of the British Empire, first in Queensland, Australia and later in Belize. Through everything - including their homes burning multiple times, extreme hard labor, total isolation, and poverty, Violet stayed by his side until she realized that his schemes would never bear fruit and left him to return to England. Although they seem to have had a close and loving marriage, they never spoke again.

 

Meanwhile, the original seeds Henry brought to England spawned an immense industry. "In all, some 5.32 million trees were growing in the colonies in 1905, about 56 million by 1910" (271). And for just 700 pounds to Henry, the payoff internationally was huge: "From 1913, when the British plantations took over, until 1922, the United States alone had imported 2.7 billion pounds of rubber for $1.16 billion" (282).

 

Although the author does attempt to weave the international story of rubber alongside Henry's own rather hapless existence, I felt that there was disconnect. It was hard to follow the track of international events and the timeline of what exactly happened with his seeds after they were delivered. Additionally, the early part of the narrative, before the author seems to have been assisted by the journals left by Henry's wife Violet, was difficult to follow, although that is likely do to the spotty nature of Henry's recordkeeping during this time period. Throughout, the book seemed to struggle between wanting to be a history of the Amazons, to becoming a history of the rubber industry, to a biography of Henry Wickham. Although certainly all related, the book seemed to only do each of those in part.

 

I did enjoy learning a great deal about the Amazon through reading this book. It was clearly a wild and untamed place (just as it still largely is today). Henry suffered from foul ailments during his time there, such as the time his back became infested pustules full of botfly larvae. "The larva had evolved two anal hooks to hold it firmly in place; pull it out and the maggots burst, filling the cavity with toxins and loosing an infection more dangerous than the original larva. It breathes through snorkel-like spiracles poking from the skin" (101). It was also eye-opening to read more about the rubber industry, particularly the cruel treatment of natives who were used as disposable labor during this period.

 

Henry seems to a man of contradictions - seemingly a devoted husband, he's also capable of abandoning his family in the jungle and pursuing his harebrained schemes over his wife. Likewise, his legacy is a mixed one. Although knighted and dubbed the "father of the rubber industry" in Great Britain, "Brazilians dubbed him the 'executioner of Amazonas,' 'the prince of thieves,' and called his theft 'hardly defensible in international law'" (191).

 

Stars: 3