A Sample of the Jacmel Quarter's Slave "Nations" (1718-1739)

 

Although our amateurish attempts to tally the number of each "nation" among the enslaved in the Jacmel Quartier is only just beginning, here are our results from our perusal of the Saint Domingue Notariat, particularly the amazing resource, Minutes notariales, 1704-1803. We decided to focus on the years from 1718-1739 for now since that period covers the early transition to coffee in the region during the 1730s. Utilizing the archive's collection of records by the following notaries, Neys, Delorme-de-Boissy, Fouquet, and Laville, we scoured the digitized collection on the Family Search website. We would have loved to have begun earlier, but we do not know which records survive that would cover the slave imports in this part of the colony from c.1698-1718. Perhaps they would have been similar in origin to slaves in Grand-Goave and Leogane, where some of the early Bainet and Jacmel planters moved from. Or, alternatively, some were those imported by the Compagnie de Saint-Domingue via the Slave Coast and West Central Africa (as well as those smuggled via English or Dutch traders, as suggested by the appearance of a few English Creole slaves).

Furthermore, in our collection of the data, we focused on inventories, leases and documents naming at least 10 adult slaves. We also focused on documents that actually gave the "nations" of most of the enumerated bonded persons. Some notaries did not record this information, sadly, so we left the information out. It is a shame, since they sometimes recorded "exotic" slaves of "Indian" origin in 1719 but did not provide the "nations" of other captives.  Nonetheless, due to the difficulty of reading some documents and the occasional inclusion of slaves without a specified "nation" in other contracts, we still ended up with a rather large number (16) who are not of a clear "nation." For a similar reason, we omitted the number of children since their precise "nation" is either not provided, although we suspect that in several cases they were born in the colony or arrived at such a young age they would have been "Creolized" more quickly than adults. In addition, earlier records also use names for "nations" that disappear in the 1730s, perhaps reflecting changes in the pattern of slave imports or the complex creation of new "nations" within the colonial context. Last but certainly not least, we could not always precisely state what type of plantation the aforementioned captives labored at. Many of the records mentioned indigoteries, barrels of indigo and similar information about the specifics of the plantations, yet it is likely that some planters invested in indigo and other crops. 

Let us return to the numbers. Our sample of 243 adult slaves over a period of nearly around 20 years represents only a snapshot of what the "nations" of the quarter's 2532 slaves may have been in the 1739 census. Nonetheless, it is interesting to note that it already seems close to the patterns in Siguret's table of "nations" for the Jacmel quartier for the period 1757-1791. Already, the two largest "nations" may have been "Creole" and "Congo" by 1739. And one would suspect the Creoles, even larger when counting children, were often the children of captives from the Slave Coast, Senegambia and Congo brought to the colony in the early 1700s or late 1600s. We suspect the name Loango was dropped in favor of "Congo" to reflect what may have been additional sources of Central African captives in the colony. Furthermore, the increase in the Bambara population in Siguret's data might reflect the growth and decline of Bamana states like Segu over the course of the 18th century, producing additional "Bambara" captives sold on the Senegambian coast. We similarly imagine that the high number of Aradas was also connected with Dahomey's expansion and conquest of Ouidah and Allada, probably producing more "Arada" slaves (although "Arada" almost certainly encompassed many different peoples sold on the Bight of Benin) in the 1720s and perhaps, 1730s. The early appearance of the Barba (Bariba) also suggest some captives from areas north of Dahomey and Oyo were being sold on the coast.

When broken into larger regions of Upper Guinea, Lower Guinea and Central Africa, one sees that the "Upper Guinea" captives were a much smaller proportion of the slave population. The Bambara, Mandingue, Senegal, and other possible "Upper Guinea" nations represent only a small fraction of the total, probably less than 10%. Since some of the "unknown" nations and perhaps a decent fraction of the Creoles were children of slaves from Upper Guinea, their influence in the region might have been stronger than detectable from the limited data available. Nonetheless, they were clearly smaller in numbers than those from Central Africa and Lower Guinea. When reviewing the notarized records, some of the Senegal slaves may have retained their names (including one woman named Fatima) and aspects of their culture probably contributed to the formation of an early Creole "slave culture" in the region.

Central Africa, whose "Congos" produced the largest African "nation" in the quarter, were of major demographic importance. At least 61 were from Central Africa, meaning at least 25% were from this region of Africa. It was possibly higher if one considers some of the "unknown" or ambiguous "nations" to be Central Africa. Overall, the Congos were undoubtedly a major presence in the area. The expansion of coffee plantations in the 1730s may have favored an even larger increase of their numbers since coffee planters are said to have favored Congos, according to Geggus. Unfortunately, the lumping together of so many Central Africans (Congos) and the few Mondongue and Loango homogenizes them. Nonetheless, some were undoubtedly from the Kongo kingdom or nearby areas. One Congo was even named Miguel, while others retained their African names (Macaya, Zomby). As speculated by others, Kongo Catholicism may have been a factor here in spreading or at least shaping local Christian practices.

Last, but certainly not least, Lower Guinea. The majority of the enslaved population appears to have roots there, as seen in the high numbers of Mines, Ibos, and Aradas. Adding the few Nagos, Oueda and Jouda to this suggests a proportion of at least 37% of the total. Again, the Creoles likely included many whose parents hailed from this region, too. As several scholars have long noted, the predominance of a cultural influence from Aja-Fon peoples likely dates to this period era in the colonial slave trade. Like other parts of the colony, the Jacmel quarter seems to have also been very much populated by captives from the Slave Coast. In addition, a significant number of Ibo and Bibi also point to the Bight of Biafra as an important source of captive labor. Arada, Nago and other groups from this period remained an important part of the slave population in the period from 1757-1791, too. Siguret's study of indigo and coffee plantations found a pronounced Ibo and Arada presence, a pattern we have also noted in Bainet in 1791.

Unfortunately, much of ANOM's collection has not been digitized and we are missing pre-1790s Bainet notarized documents. We may continue this little project by reviewing Delorme-de-Boissy files from the 1740s, which could give us better insights into the nature of the coffee boom. Its impact on slave demographics and the patterns of "nations" in the colony may challenge or support our current thinking on this matter. Data from Grand-Goave and Leogane would also be worth reviewing for a broader regional approach, beyond the southeastern corner of the colony. 

Nupe in Saint Domingue

 

The Nupe, known in Saint Domingue as Tapa or Taqua, the former derived from a Yoruba appellation for them, also had a presence there before the 1770s. The above example, from the corpus of runaway notices on this excellent site, indicates that by 1766, an enslaved Nupe (or Atapa) man, Jupiter, had run away. This early appearance of the Nupe coincides with the appearance of a Gambery (Gambary) maroon the same year. While we need to find evidence of Nupe and Hausa in Saint Domingue from earlier plantation records and sales, this does suggest that people from areas north of Oyo were being sold along the Slave Coast. In small numbers, yes, and still referred to by the label known via Yoruba-speakers, but illustrative of how the slave trading network of Oyo intersected with both the Atlantic and the northern regions. Oyo, in exchange for horses, slaves and other goods, was an intermediary the Nupe and Hausa to the north would have engaged with for access to European goods from the coast (although European products were also crossing the Sahara via the trans-Saharan trade routes). 

What is particularly interesting about the Nupe in Saint-Domingue is the mention of "Nago-Taqua" captives in 1773 and 1778 in the runaway slave ads posted in Affiches américaines. Bringing to mind the pattern in 19th century Cuba where Lucumi-Jausa, Lucumi-Tapa and other combinations appear in the archive, this almost certainly reflects the centuries-long interactions between Nupe and Yoruba groups. It could also reflect, perhaps, a Nupe person who had been enslaved in Oyo for some length of time before being sold on the coast. It makes one wonder if some of the people categorized as being of the "Nago" nation in Saint Domingue may have been of Nupe, Bariba or Hausa origins.

Hausa in Saint Domingue (Before 1770s)

Another thing we would like to call attention to is the earlier presence of Hausa and Central Sudan populations in Saint-Domingue, before the 1770s and 1780s. While most mentions of Gambary and Hausa runaways in the colonial newspaper date from later, there is one early appearance (1766) of a "Gambery" runaway, named la Liberté. The excellent resource, Le marronnage dans le monde atlantique: sources et trajectoires de vie, includes the above ad plus numerous others featuring Hausa and even "Borno" runaways. But what's important to note here is, assuming the Gambary in Saint Domingue were indeed Hausa, which seems likely (the Yoruba term for the Nupe was also used in runaway slave notices as early as 1766, too), then already by 1766, there may have been a small number of peoples from deep in the Nigerian interior or northern Nigeria in the colony. 

Indeed, it is possible that before 1766 a few were classified as "unknown" or lumped in with the "Nago" due to the French unfamiliarity with them. The fact that the two groups were called by a Yoruba name for them in 1766 is perhaps indicative of this. This pattern may have been somewhat akin to the way the "Lucumi" label was applied to many Africans in 19th century Cuba who were actually of quite diverse origins. And, considering how close Oyo's relations with the Nupe and Hausa were, it is possible that slaves of northern origins who spent time in Oyo before being sold on the coast were categorized as "Nago" in some cases. 

In short, the presence of northerners sold on the Bight of Benin to the French slave traders likely occurred earlier than we realize, probably by the 1720s, when "Malais" Muslim traders visiting the Slave Coast directly appear in European sources. The Nupe, according to sources such as the Kano Chronicle, were said to be supplying firearms to Kano by the 1730s or 1740s. The trade with the coast, which reached Nupe through Oyo, would have linked the Atlantic markets to the savanna and Sahel to the North to at least some degree. Additionally, conflict between Gobir and Zamfara or raids between different Hausa kingdoms may have generated captives that ended up being enslaved and sold to Oyo and beyond. Intriguingly, in 1764, Gobir sacked Zamfara's capital and by 1766, "Gambary" make an appearance in Saint Domingue. Conflict between the Hausa states or with their neighbors inevitably created captives, a small subset of whom appear to have been sold on the Slave Coast by the 1760s. 

Jean Baptiste Mathurin, the Hausa and Haiti

Jean Baptiste Maturin appears in 1801, when he married Anne Ogé, on folio 49 of the ANOM's digitized archive of the état civil. 

To give a real example of how some Haitians have minor Hausa or northern Nigerian ancestry, the example of Jean Baptiste Maturin is enlightening. To determine this Hausa connection, one must consult the parish registers of Saint Domingue from those "exciting" years between emancipation and Haitian independence. Many ex-slave cultivateurs appear in these registries as free people, getting married or registering the births of their children. If one is lucky, one might find an ancestor who had been formerly enslaved and, occasionally, details about their African or Creole background. 

In this example, we see in the 1801 parish register for Jacmel that Jean Baptiste Mathurin married Anne Oge, a Creole who was born in Jacmel. Jean Baptiste Mathurin, however, was a native of the "Hausa country in Africa" and therefore, obviously not native to Jacmel. As a Hausa, a minority among the African "nations" and with extremely skewed gender ratios, it was no surprise he married a Creole woman. This would explain why some Haitians do indeed descend from Africans of diverse regions, but it may only present itself in genetic testing at trace amounts. 

Family Search's website is precious for finding documents. Here is digitized the 1853 marriage record of Jean Philippe Mathurin. 

Unsurprisingly, Mathurin and wife Anne Oge had at least 2 children, Jean-Philippe Mathurin. Indeed, Jean Philippe was named as a child of Jean Baptiste in 1801, born before he married Anne. Apparently he had a brother, Edouard. Jean Philippe was around 16 years old when his parents married, probably because they were free and it was easier to do that and have stable family structures. Jean-Philippe Mathurin himself would have 5 children with Marie Louise Jacques, before marrying her in 1853. One can verify that Jean-Philippe Mathurin was indeed the child of Jean Baptiste Mathurin and Anne Oge because his marriage certificate lists his place of birth as Gosseline, the very same area Jean-Baptiste Mathurin and Anne Oge were living in back in 1801. 

The above example serves to show how "Hausa" ancestry could be inherited by Haitians in small amounts. Perhaps most, like Jean Baptiste Mathurin, ended up in relationships with non-Hausa women and were rather quickly largely absorbed into the Creole population. In areas like Jacmel, the slave population was already substantially Creole by the late 1700s, and outside of perhaps a few extreme cases, it was not likely for Muslim Hausa to have found communities of fellow believers to build a community with, as happened in Trinidad or even among the Fulanis encountered by Descourtilz in Saint-Domingue. 

Slaves of Robert Fleuret in 1720

Whilst perusing, once again, notarized documents digitized at Family Search's website, we encountered another list of slaves of what was probably an indigoterie in Bainet. Listed as property of a Robert Fleuret, the son of a Robert Fleuret who died in 1714, the information helps us understand more about the origins of the enslaved population in Bainet. One is struck by the Creole majority, although 3 were young children and a few older Creoles were children of slaves of the habitation. Yet after the Creoles, the next largest group were "Aradas." 

The woman who appears to have been of "Ibo" origin, Catherine. The Minutes notariales on Family Search contain several notarized documents, such as this one from 1720.

Surely, many of these were not natives of the kingdom of Allada, but captives from other regions of modern-day Benin and Togo who were sold through Ouidah and Allada. The next largest group of Africans, Loango, which would probably have been simplified as "Congo" in later records of Saitn Domingue, we see 2. One of them, who was named Macaya (or Macaye?) was around 45 years old. One of the Arada, Margueritte, was said to be around 65 years old. The sole "Ibo" captive, assuming we read the document correctly, was around 45 years old. The data, overall, matches the data from slaves owned by the Saugrain in the 1720s. Of their African-born slaves, a plurality were from the "Slave Coast" region. 

"Mali" Ancestry

Another interesting thing about the Ancestry Update is seeing the 4 reference populations used for their "Mali" region. This area is based on the Bambara, Dogon, Fula and Mende, although they also state that populations with similar genetic background can be found in Burkina Faso, Cote D'Ivoire, Gambia, Guinea, Guinea-Bissau, Liberia, Niger, Senegal (as well as Mali and Sierra Leone). Our Haitian parent, the origin of our "Mali" ancestry, has also matched with people from this region as distant cousins (1 from Mali, another from Sierra Leone of a Mandinka background). Since "Mandingues" and "Bambaras" were present in Saint-Domingue, it seems very likely that some of our ancestors came from this region of West Africa. Indeed, Ancestry assigned us 6% in the 2024 update, and the "hacked" results put it at 6.89% for "Mali." Perhaps some of our distant forebears were from Segu or Kaarta, but were captured and sold to the French slave traders on the coast of Senegal?

Ancestry's "Senegal" category also overlaps with this, which we inherited from both sides for a total of 4% (3.80% according to the "hacked" results). Alas, the specific ethnic groups used as reference for this category are not listed, although we know Poulards, "Senegalois" and Wolofs were in Saint-Domingue. We suspect the "Senegal" inherited from our Spanish Caribbean ancestry might reflect some of the ethnic groups known to be in the West Indies in the 1500s and 1600s, such as the Wolof, Berbersi, and others. Unfortunately, without knowing the ethnic breakdown of the reference populations for "Senegal" and other West African regions, like Ivory Coast and Ghana, it is difficult to say. 

North-Central Nigeria...

Although these popular genealogy/ancestry DNA tests should always be used cautiously, we do find Ancestry's 2024 update to be worthy of attention. They seem to be trying harder at distinguishing the various subregions of African countries. Thus, Nigeria, an enormous place occupied by a plethora of ethnic groups, finally has a number of new regions. It looks like other parts of sub-Saharan Africa may have to wait for a subsequent update to see this level of detail, but it's a step in the right direction. However, comparing our results and those of our Haitian parent to their previous results, we notice that the 2024 update seems to minimize Cameroon, Congo, and Western Bantu Peoples percentages. Since in both of our cases, our sub-Saharan African ancestry was always overwhelmingly West African, the latest update was not too different from past results. However, we wonder if the creation of new Nigeria regions may have absorbed some of the Cameroon that was previously lumped into the older category of Cameroon, Congo and Western Bantu Peoples. 

Unfortunately, in our case we did not see any African sub-regional breakdowns besides Central Nigeria and North-Central Nigeria, each one at an estimated 5%. Central Nigeria is "centered" upon the Niger-Benue Confluence region, stretching north and south to what seems to us as an unknown extent. This presumably overlaps with North-Central Nigeria, also assigned at 5%, which is centered on the area of Hausaland in northern Nigeria and southern Niger (but including the following ethnic groups: Afizere, Anaguta, Atyap, Berom, Ham and Hausa). Of course, there are other ethnic groups in Northern Nigeria, but North-Central seems to emphasize the Hausa in the north. Central Nigeria, on the other hand, remains a vague label, but based on the following groups as reference: Agatu (Idoma North), Ake, Alago (Idoma Nokwu), Arum, Bu, Eggon (Mo Egon), Gwandara, Mada, Mama, Mijili (aJijili), Ninzo, and Rindre . If the North-Central Nigeria percentage is accurate, however, perhaps we do have "Hausa" ancestry. After all, a small but noticeable number of Hausa were enslaved in Saint-Domingue. But far more Igbo were imported, and a Nupe presence was also present. Historian David Geggus found at least 227 Hausa in Saint-Domingue, plus another 60 "Gambari" based on his study of sex ratios of the enslaved population from 1721-1797. 

The Lāmīb̳e of Fombina : a political history of Adamawa, 1809-1901

The Lāmīb̳e of Fombina : a political history of Adamawa, 1809-1901 by Sa'ad Abubakar analyzes the rise and fall of a jihadist state founded by the Fulbe, or Fulani, in the vast region of Fombina. Unlike other emirates within the Sokoto Caliphate, Fombina lacked a prior history of political centralization. Instead, the large province was shared by a plethora of ethnic groups living in small chiefdoms. The Fulani int he area, who already had a presence by the 18th century, were also divided into smaller clan and lineage groups. While Borno and Mandara had some degree of influence in the area through trade, raiding and conquest, and the Jukun state appears to have exerted some degree of influence there previously, Fombina's non-Fulbe lived in "theocratic" chiefdoms and small-scale polities. Long-distance trade was limited and the Fulani in the pre-jihad period lived under the dictates of the non-Muslim, non-Fulani sedentary populations. That said, the Fulani themselves were only weakly Islamized prior to the 19th century, preferring to live by pulaku and customary laws and tradition rather than Islamic ones. 

Nonetheless, events in the 19th century led to a rapid transformation of this area, turning it into one of the largest yet most decentralized emirates of the Sokoto Caliphate. The jihad in Fombina, propelled by Modibbo Adama, was strengthened by incoming Fulani migrants who were fleeing Borno after al-Kanemi's victories against Gwoni Mukhtar and other jihadists. In addition, some of the Fulani clan leaders led an expansion into the southern areas to claim new pasture and lands, subjugating pagan sedentary groups. By the 1840s, with a capital established at Yola, the Adamawa emirate was a large, decentralized state with various sub-emirates that largely acted independently of Yola. According to Abubakar, this decentralized nature of Adamawa was due to the incomplete conquest of the Habe populations in the region (many rebelled and sometimes cut off loyal provinces) and the resistance of Fulani Ardo'en and sub-emirs to obey the emir in Yola. While tribute and participation in the military campaigns of the emir were expected and could be gained from loyal provinces, southern sub-emirates often ignored or rebelled against this. In addition, not all Fulani clans were included in the Adamawa leadership, and Islam itself was not widely practiced or observed by the Fulani. Thus, some ignored or disobeyed the emir at Yola. This problem only worsened as some of the sub-emirates experienced dynastic crises or internal wars over succession, a problem the ruler at Yola could not always alleviate. 

Ultimately, by the end of the century, the partition of this vast, loosely joined state was inevitable. British, French and German interests in the Benue and Chad Basin made its longevity numbered. The state, to its credit, was able to consolidate some of its gains and implement a real administrative machinery (with titles borrowed from Hausa and Kanuri, as well as other parts of the Sokoto Caliphate), and the use of slaves for food crop production and the promotion of trade (particularly ivory) did promote some degree of economic development and improvement in conditions for Fulani and allied leaders. Furthermore, the invitation extended to Muslim scholars and pilgrims attracted a larger class of pious Islamic leaders, who in turn promoted a deeper spread and adherence to Islam. Earlier in its existence, it also scored victories against Mandara and was able to protect its northern border with Borno. The state was even able to survive the Mahdist movement and the Sudanese warlord, Rabeh, ultimately falling to the European powers. 

The central theme here appears to be one in which the incomplete centralization of the Adamawa Emirate hindered its ability to establish a stable political system. Of course, This uneven centralization of the state appears to have been a result of the region's lack of such a system before the 19th century, as well as the particular nature of Fulbe society and political traditions. Thus, instead of a jihadist state that had the political traditions of Hausa states with centuries of political traditions, Modibbo Adama and his successors had to create one wholesale, borrowing from the ideals of the Sokoto Caliphate, Borno, and Hausaland. Indeed, Adama is said to have studied and lived in Borno and adopted some of its titled positions in his administration, testifying to the importance of these older political systems in Adamawa attempt at reforms. Abubakar likewise endeavors to include pagan, non-Fulbe peoples as part of this story, albeit their perspective is more dependent on oral tradition and often lost in the entangled histories of the various sub-emirates.