A Zombie's History of the United States: From the Massacre at Plymouth Rock to the CIA's Secret War on the Undead

By Worm Miller

Learn the American history they don’t teach in school—like colonial zombie massacres and undead Civil War heroes—in this horrifying and hilarious volume.

“Americans have been taught that their nation is civilized and humane. But, too often, U.S. actions have been uncivilized and inhumane.”

—Howard Zinn

Shedding light on 500 years of suppression, this shocking exposé reveals the pivotal role in American history played by its most invisible minority—zombies. From colonization and revolution to World Wars and global hegemony, A Zombie’s History of the United States tells the powerful and moving stories of this country’s living-dead underclass, including:

•The zombie massacre of European colonists at Plymouth Rock

•The gruesome killing of a zombinated Meriwether Lewis by his fellow explorer William Clark

•The doomed defense of the Alamo against hordes of the attacking undead

•The heroic, platoon-saving charge into a hail of German fire by an undead Lt. Audie Murphy

•The top-secret NASA missions that launched (and often lost) zombies into space

•The anti-terrorist program to stop the weaponization of the zombie virus

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Dec 1, 2010
• ISBN: 9781569759196

Book preview

ONE

New World, New Monsters THE DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION OF THE AMERICAS

The Indians tell a genesis tale of how their people arrived on the island. They say they were fleeing the dead.

—Bartolomé de las Casas, priest and humanitarian, History of the Indies, 1523

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Christopher Columbus never saw a zombie. Indeed a majority of the first explorers to the New World never did, or at least never realized they had. Journals will mention passing encounters with haggard and rabid natives, but the Europeans apparently held the indigenous population in such low regard that this was not taken as out of the ordinary. Generally, zombie encounters would have been rare in the areas the Spaniards were first laying claim to. While the Aztecs and some Mesoamerican civilizations had utilized zombies for religious ceremonies and rituals, the mountainous terrain of the lower North American isthmus impeded zombism from spreading in epidemic form past the medial section of Central America.

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Approximate undead population density circa 1450.

Upon his discovery of Florida in April 1513, Ponce de León had a skirmish with what were very likely zombies, though he believed the attackers simply to be very hostile Indians. If one of his men had been bitten, surely he would’ve thought differently. During Ponce de León’s final voyage to Florida, in 1521, it was believed that savage Calusa Indian braves poisoned him during an attack. His ship’s log describes the poison as inducing furies, noting that he will try to bite others. There likely was no poison. The famous explorer was quite probably the first European zombie casualty of the Age of Exploration.

A small scattering of mysterious ailments and attacks are nothing to stand in the way of conquest. Soon all the major European powers were looking to stake a claim in the New World.

The Lost Colony

Suitable placement found. Neighboring natives—possible cannibal behavior.

—Phillip Amadas, explorer, journal entry, 1584

Founded in 1587 under the patronage of Sir Walter Raleigh, the Roanoke Colony on Roanoke Island (in what is now North Carolina) was England’s first attempt to establish a permanent settlement in the New World. One of America’s most enduring mysteries was born when the expedition’s leader, John White, returned to Roanoke after being held up for three long years by the Anglo-Spanish War, only to discover the settlers completely vanished, the word Croatoan carved into a post of the fort the only clue.

Theories have abounded since, ranging from extermination at the hands of the Spanish to assimilation with a neighboring Indian tribe, but the best evidence all points to one simple conclusion: zombies.

In 1584, Phillip Amadas and Arthur Barlowe were dispatched by Raleigh to explore America’s eastern coast for an appropriate location to establish a colony and to foster a relationship with the local natives. They met with several tribes, including the Chesepian of the Carolina Algonquians. In his journal, Amadas notes that the Chesepians warned them from settling on what is now Hatteras Island, for it was home to many walking ghosts, or croatoa, in their tongue. Amadas and Barlowe naively presumed the Chesepians were superstitiously referring to an enemy tribe. Instead they chose nearby Roanoke Island as their ideal settlement, continuing to believe that Hatteras—or as the English referred to it, Croatoan Island—was populated by the Croatoan Indians.

In 1590, when White discovered the word Croatoan carved into the fort, he purportedly was unable to conduct a search of Croatoan Island because bad weather necessitated he and his crew return home. Yet White’s ship’s log makes no mention of a storm, nor the exact date of their departure. Then there is this curious passage from the diary of Timothy Hughes, an English poet and natural sciences hobbyist:

I had a most revealing intercourse the evening prior. The Man I had seen was shipmen board the Privateer went discovering for the Roanoake settlement—Subject most of interest for mineself. After liberal plying of spirits the Man altered his Story from which I was aware. He spoke of awful Men with flesh slung from the bone who gave the crew much antagony and impediment in their discovery. These devious beings were nigh beyond harm and the Crew escaped but with their Lives.

The lost colony tale is merely surviving propaganda. It surely did not behoove England’s interests abroad to have investors and potential colonists think the New World was overrun with horrible monsters, especially at a time when they were trying to establish a foothold on the continent. The Roanoke colonists kept no records, so it is impossible to say anything for sure, but what seems most likely is that they attempted to contact the supposed Croatoan tribe, were attacked by the zombies, and carried the zombism back to Roanoke.

The Massacre at Plymouth Rock

And for the danger it was the beasts, and they that know the beasts of that country know them to be foul and violent, and subject to cruel and fierce assaults.

—William Bradford, Of Plymouth Plantation, March 10, 1621

In 1603, Queen Elizabeth I died. James VI of Scotland, who was upgraded to James I of England, succeeded her. This meant that when English gold hunters founded the first settlement in the Colony of Virginia in 1607 it was not christened Elizabethtown.

Jamestown—or James Towne, as it was originally named—had a rocky start. The settlement was built on Jamestown Island to protect against zombie attacks, with which the terrified English were still uneasily coming to grips. Unfortunately, the swampy island was not ideal for most farming, and starvation, illness, hostile relations with Indians, lack of profitable exports, and periodic zombism spreads all threatened the survival of the fragile population. Then, in 1612, colonist John Rolfe, future husband to Pocahontas (who was lover to John Smith only in literature), introduced a strain of tobacco that would change the fate of the colony—and England’s investment in America. Now with Jamestown’s blossoming success, the riches and opportunities of the New World brought new waves of English settlers.

In November 1620, the English Separatists (later known as the Pilgrims) found themselves not at the mouth of the Hudson River, their intended goal, but off Cape Cod. Deciding to forgo their original destination, for which they had a land patent, the plucky Pilgrims drafted the Mayflower Compact, which they felt gave them the right to claim whatever land they so chose.

After signing the Mayflower Compact, the Pilgrims were delayed for two weeks in what is today Provincetown Harbor, Massachusetts, because their shallop (a smaller ship used to get to shore) had been damaged in transit. While waiting for the shallop to be repaired, a small party led by Myles Standish—an English soldier hired by the Pilgrims—waded to shore to survey the surroundings and search for supplies. Here they encountered a small native village, no more than a handful of structures, all of which seemed eerily and recently abandoned. Separatist leader William Bradford later recorded the event in his journal, Of Plymouth Plantation:

…ther they found many Indean’s houses covered with mats, and some of their implements in them, and recently cultivated feelds; but the people had run offe and could not be seene nor appeared when the men called for them. They also found corn, and beans of various colours. These they broughte away, intending to give them full satisfaction when they should meet with any of them… Then Hopkins’ man Doty [Edward Doty, a servant of Stephen Hopkins] found an artificial mound which he in due course uncovered and found to be an Indean grave. Drawn to the Indean corn placed amongste the corpse, which Doty wanted as seed for planting, Doty claims his wrist was seized by the occupante of the grave when he drew his hand in. Doty says he surely would have gone in were it not for the large stone placed on the gruesome man’s chest, weighting him down. I scarce not believe such a tale, yet Standish and the other tell the say tale. At least a full hand’s count of other such mounds were discovered and unearthed, each with its own ghoulish inhabitante pinned beneath a heavy stone. Standish and the men tried speaking with the pitiful men and women, but best they could form were gutturals and shrieks.

Needless to say, the Pilgrims determined this might not be an ideal place to make a settlement. Some wished to return to Europe, religious persecution suddenly seeming not so unbearable, but such a trip would have been unfeasible given the weary state of their supplies. So they ventured westward. On December 17, 1620, the Mayflower dropped anchor in Plymouth Harbor. Whether or not the first piece of land they set foot upon was Plymouth Rock, as legend purports, we cannot truthfully say, but we do know what was waiting for them there.

On December 23, construction began on permanent structures for the settlement. The first was a common house, with a planned nineteen other residences to house the different families. On January 7, 1621, as the finishing touches were being placed on the common house, some unwanted visitors arrived. As Bradford records:

HOW TO BURY YOUR UNDEAD?

It is uncertain which tribe had originally inhabited the village Bradford describes, but burying the undead by pinning them down with large stones was practiced by several Native American tribes in a variety of areas. Many Indians believed zombies to still be connected to their living spirits. A zombinated member of the community posed a problem then, for killing them was no less a crime than killing that same individual when they were human.

The Tanaina people affixed zombies to trees with stakes and ropes. The Caddo tied zombies to wooden planks, which were then set free into the river. The famed Captain John Smith reported the Powhatan sinking rabid members of their tribe into a lake with stones fixed to their limbs. One group of the Tonkawa nation kept zombinated family members latched to posts within the village so their spirits could be close to loved ones.

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Sketches made by William Bradford regarding various native burial customs for zombies.

A crye went up, Indeans, Indeans. The Indeans were of beastely look, bloode and some with missing partes. They carried no weapons, many naked. We fired a volley and struck severale, but nun fell.

Those working ashore were forced to flee for the Mayflower, where the women, children, and ill had been residing while the settlement was built. The men scrambled for the shallop, many not stopping to help carry it into the water, instead simply diving into the ocean and swimming for the ship. The zombies pursued them hungrily into the waves, pulling men from the shallop to their doom and biting others. As no firearms had been left aboard the ship, the women and children had to watch powerlessly as the men struggled back. Eventually the zombies were shaken free in the deeper water and the men returned to the safety of the main ship. Or so they thought.

The Pilgrims learned then that those bitten by zombies became zombies in due course. After the initial confusion of fighting their own men, everyone—including the women, children and indisposed—were now forced to flee back to the shore and seek shelter in the mostly complete common house. It was pure, terrified chaos. The zombie attacks continued off and on for the duration of that winter. During the lulls, the Pilgrims attempted to build more and sturdier structures to hold back the undead menace. By spring, only seven of the nineteen planned residences had even started construction and a staggering 47 percent of the Pilgrim population had either been lost to zombie devourment or succumbed to a zombie bite. Were it not for the intervention of the famous Squanto and the Wampanoag Indian tribe, the remaining 63 percent would likely have perished as well.

Early Thanksgiving celebrations used to include zombie imagery to honor the Pilgrim’s friendship with the Wampanoags, with men dressed as zombies, Indians, and settlers acting out mock battles and victories. This practice died out by the end of the 17th century after King Philip’s War, also known as Metacomet’s Rebellion (1675-1676), which was a bloody clash between New England settlers and the Native Americans lead by Metacomet (who was called King Philip by the English), the son of Massasoit, who somewhat ironically had been chief of the Wampanoag tribe that saved the Pilgrims.

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Artist’s rendering of the so-called Massacre at Plymouth Rock. Here the Pilgrims are shown returning from the Mayflower to fight back the undead horde.

Zombie Trials

Those Inquisitors, wishing with their whole hearts

and strength to put a check unto the walking dead

and to counteract such dangers, have with much

study, much research, and much labour, indited and

composed a certain Treatise in which they have used

their best endeavours on behalf of the integrity of the

Catholic Faith to such abominations.

—Jacob Kramer, Letter of Approbation from the Mortuis Malleus, 1600s

The early settlers could not fully comprehend what a zombie was. They understood the basics—a zombie bites you, you become a zombie; zombies can only be de-animated by destroying their brain—but the nature of the zombie proved somewhat unknowable. Native American spirituality better suited the zombies. They viewed the undead as a part of the world, a dangerous part like the grizzly or the alligator, but a part nonetheless. While zombies were a quandary to the Christian Europeans, they were quick to a solution regarding the zombies’ origins…the devil.

While the witch trials of New England in the early 1690s have endured in legend and popular fiction—especially the famous Salem Witch Trials immortalized by Arthur Miller in his play, The Crucible—forgotten is the role zombies played. The Mortuis Malleus, Latin for the Hammer of the Dead, was a popular treatise on zombies written in the mid-1600s by Puritan minister Jacob Kramer. Kramer’s intended and stated purpose of the Mortuis Malleus was systematically to refute all arguments claiming that zombies do not exist, to prove that women (as witches) were the root source of zombies, and to educate magistrates on the procedures to discover who was a zombie and convict them. The key to understanding what Kramer is arguing here is that he felt (as did many) that only certain people became zombies. These people were already zombies while they were alive, and then in death they would rise again as creatures of the undead.

The first section of the book begins:

Whether the belief that there are such beings as the undead is so essential a part of the Christian faith that obstinately to maintain the opposite opinion manifestly savours of heresy. It is argued that a firm belief in the undead is not a Christian doctrine. Whoever believes that any creature can be changed for the better or the worse, or transformed into another kind or likeness, except by the Creator of all things, is worse than a pagan and a heretic. And so when they report such things are done by the undead it is not Christian, but plainly heretical, to maintain this opinion.

A long and somewhat illogical book, it is yet no less fascinating—and also incredibly misogynistic. The bulk of the book is made up of its second section, where Kramer argues that witches, by the power of devils, change men into the undead (for this is their chief manner of transmutation). The devil’s power is greatest when sexuality is involved, and women are more sexual than men, according to Kramer. Libidinous women would slink off into the woods in groups and have sex with the devil, thus becoming witches. "All witchcraft