11/13/24

Gilles Bambara in 1787?


Although we require far more evidence to confirm this, our perusal of Saint Domingue's newspaper, Affiches américaines, led to some interesting findings. For instance, the above runaway ad, from 1787, mentions a "Gilli" arrested in Petit-Goave. The runaway slave's name may have actually been Gille, but perhaps a misprint or error led to the paper writing it as "Gilli." Anyway, we need to confirm that the Gilles Bambara who later became an important leader during the Haitian Revolution was once the chattel of a Lami to know for sure. But if it is indeed the same person, it is interesting to see that he was already engaging in marronage years before the outbreak of the Haitian Revolution.

11/12/24

Jacmel Quartier's Population in 1739

Another feeble attempt at our part of deriving plausible estimates for the "nations" of the Jacmel Quarter in 1739. Using the 1739 Census for Saint-Domingue (available via ANOM), and its total for adult slaves of 3727. Using our own data based on the slave population in Bainet, Jacmel and Cayes de Jacmel for the years 1719-1739, we used the proportion of each "nation" to calculate possible numbers for these nations in 1739. Of course, this is pure speculation on our part. In addition, several nations with only 1 or 2 slaves from our data are likely distorted in our table above. This is especially relevant for nations with tiny numbers or obscure names that may have been reclassified as other "nations" by 1739. One must also keep in mind that the years after 1730 witnessed an increase in coffee plantations in parishes like Bainet, which undoubtedly impacted the enslaved population in that pivotal decade. 

Nonetheless, the projected numbers for 1739 seem to fit general trends. Creoles were the single largest group, and their parents were probably disproportionately from the Bight of Benin and the Senegambian regions. Congos, plus other Central Africans, like Loango and Mondongue, were the next largest group. Yet the Mina, Arada, Nago, Ouida/Judah, and Ibo were a huge part of the adult slave population. One suspects the growth of coffee plantations, plus the more marginal position of these parishes in terms of development and access to slaves, made the planters less picky and willing to purchase whoever they could access via legal and smuggling methods. 

It is also interesting to see the persistence of the "Upper Guinea" populations among the adult slave population. Bambara and Senegal Africans, in our projection, plus Mandingue and maybe the "Mamou" as well, slaves from the Senegambia area and further east were still very much part of th enslaved population. Indeed, one wonders to what extent these Upper Guineans may have been able to relate to adult Creoles with parents from the same region. The "Mamou" may have been from the Mamou or Mamu region of Futa Jallon, in today's Guinea. It is difficult to say with any firm certainty, but Futa Jallon's wars of expansion in the 1720s did generate an increase in captives, who may have been Jallonke and some Fulbe who ended up in Saint-Domingue. Mamou, according to Marty and others, was the name of a river and region not too far from Futa Jallon's capital, Timbo. Timbou, too, could be a reference to Futa Jallon.

11/11/24

Estimating the Nations of Jacmel's Slave Population in c.1782


Another crude method of calculating somewhat plausible numbers for the "nations" of the Jacmel Quartier's enslaved population is to use the numbers from the 1782 Census. While probably an undercount or plagued by inaccuracies, it does provide a total number of the slave population, which means one can use the numbers from Roseline Siguret's study of the quartier's indigo and coffee estates from 1757-1791 to crudely approximate the possible distribution of "nations" in the popular of the region. While very imperfect, doing so gives the numbers above for the "nations" in Siguret's table. 

First, the Creole preponderance is undeniable, although it may have been even higher if slave imports at the port of Jacmel were low, as was the case in 1786. Slaveholders would have had to rely on smuggling or the intra-colony slave trade to provide new captives, probably a mix of both. The next striking feature is how, assuming our crude estimate is somewhat close to the reality, the huge Congo and Central African presence was. The "Congos" and Mondongues plus smaller numbers of other groups who appear to be from Central Africa (Maiemba, for instance) were about 24% of the total slave population. That said, one is shocked by our estimate for the still reasonably high numbers of Senegalais, Mandingues, Bambaras, and other Upper Guinea "nations" in the region. Furthermore, the Ibos, in our estimate, were over 9% of the total slave population. 

Overall, the trends from our estimate reveal a plurality of Creoles with a substantial "Congo" presence and Ibo presence. The persistence of African nations from the Bight of Benin as well as Upper Guinea (perhaps around 8%) illustrates a great diversity of slave imports continued well into the late 18th century. The huge Creole population, too, very likely descended, perhaps to a greater degree, from Africans purchased from the Slave Coast and Upper Guinea, too. Of course, these estimates are likely to be very inaccurate for the smaller nations, such as several whose numbers in Siguret's survey were only 1 or 2. In addition, some of the slave population's "national" identity may have switched over time, as some became another "nation" or later captives from that same background were "reconceived" as belonging to a new or different "nation" instead. Thus, the above table is meant only as a very "rough" idea of what the ethnicities of slaves in Jacmel, Bainet and Cayes de Jacmel may have been like in c.1782.

11/10/24

Borno and Saint Domingue

We wanted to continue our method by applying it specifically to the "infinitely rare" Borno captives in Saint Domingue. The only detailed source on the Bornoan presence among Saint Domingue's African population comes from the French naturalist Descourtilz, who described those of the Rossignol Desdunes plantation in the Artibonite region. We are only told "plusiers" of this nation were present in the area. Checking the runaway slave ads posted in Saint-Domingue's newspaper only revealed 2 Borno captives, one of whom actually ran away in a group with 3 Hausa males. However, with very rough estimates based on the share of reported Borno maroons, we can perhaps get a clearer picture of their total numbers in the colony.

First, as only 2 out of 12,857 individuals reported in the press as runaways, we know Bornoans only represented about 0.015% of the maroons. If that proportion was similar to their share in the total population, we can estimate a total Bornoan population of about 78 to 124. Since their presence is only attested rather late in the colonial period, we prefer to base the estimate on the slave population in 1789-1791. Using an estimate of about 500,000 for the slave population in 1790 (although Geggus has suggested perhaps as many as 510,000) would mean that perhaps 78 were of the Borno nation. Of this estimate, it is probable that several died during the "seasoning" period of their adjustment to colonial slavery in the Caribbean. However, a total estimate of about 78 (possibly far less due to the paucity of documented Borno maroons) is at least somewhat plausible. After all, if a total of 153,057 slaves in the colony were imported on French ships from the Bight of Benin, 78 would represent less than 1% of that total. It is at least historically plausible that, in the second half of the 18th century, that 0.05% or so of the African captives from the Bight of Benin may have ultimately come from Borno. 

The figure of 78, again, is only a very rough estimate. But it might be consistent with perhaps a handful of large continents of Bornoans being sold to Europeans on the coast. Alternatively, the number could also be the result of small numbers of Borno captives being sold to traders at Porto Novo or Ouidah or Badagry over a long period of time. Once one takes into account the high mortality rate among African slaves, this general estimate of 78 could be significantly reduced to possibly as low as 39 or even fewer Bornoans, split among slaveholders in the Artibonite region and other parts of the colony.

11/9/24

West Africans in Saint Domingue (Haiti)

 


One amazing feature of perusing the posted runaway notices in Saint-Domingue's press is the occasionally very detailed "nations" assigned to Africans in the colony, particularly "new" Africans. While some of the "nations" used for Africans in the colony were very broad or ambiguous, a few appear with very specific names linked to a region or ethnic group that is still identifiable. Take the above case, for example, of a newly arrived "Mandingue" or "Souraca" from the year 1776. While "Mandingue" could be very broad or ambiguous in Saint-Domingue, possibly being used to encompass Mandinka as well as other Mande groups, "Souraca" is rather specific. To a speaker of Bamana or Mandinka languages in Mali, suraka referred to "Arabs" or people from the north. Thus, it is possible that this anonymous "Mandingue" hailed from an area of Mali or Mauritania in the Sahel. Was he native to that region or was he formerly enslaved by Arabs or Tuaregs?


Another possible example of quite specific African "national" classification is the case of a runaway named Hector, from the year 1772. Of the Mende nation, it is quite certain that he was from the Mende peoples of Sierra Leone. 

Even very specific Mande-affiliated peoples like the Dioula, or Juula, were also in the colony of Saint-Domingue. In the above case from 1768, a female runaway named Marie was specified as Dioula. This is rather amazing to see the distinguishing of various "Mandingue" and Mande-associated peoples in the colony. Was she from the area of today's northern Ivory Coast or Ghana?


Also in Saint-Domingue were small numbers of people from the "Edo" group, associated with areas such as the Kingdom of Benin in today's Nigeria. The above example, of a woman who ran away in 1784, attests to the presence of Edo peoples in colonial Haiti. 


Even the Gurma peoples could be found in Saint-Domingue. In the above case, from 1786, a "Gourmand" African ran away. In this case, "Gourmand" is probably a reference to the Gurma people, who are mostly to be found in present-day Burkina Faso.


Also present were the Bobo peoples, likewise found in Burkina Faso. The case of Richard, from the 1770s, serves as proof of their presence among the captive West Africans in the colony. 


The Oyo Yoruba may be found under their specific name. The 1777 incident involving 2 runaway women of the "Ayo" nation may very likely refer to Oyo. We suspect, however, that more Oyo peoples than one realizes were in Saint-Domingue, but probably generically referred to as Yoruba. 

Last but certainly not least, the Susu peoples of Guinea and Sierra Leone were similarly caught in the hellscape that was Saint Domingue. Usually referred to as Soso or Sosso in the Caribbean, they were more numerous than several of the other "nations" mentioned here. 

11/8/24

Nupe, Bariba, and Hausa Runaways (Saint Domingue)


Another activity we have engaged in is an attempt at tracking runaway slaves and maroons identified in the colonial newspaper, Affiches américaines, already collected in the excellent Le marronage dans le monde atlantique project. We focused on the Nupe, Hausa and Bariba populations as groups who, living to the north of the Oyo state, were probably the bulk of the captives from the "Central Sudan" who were sold into slavery in Saint-Domingue. Unfortunately, we could not include the Fulani or Poulard in our calculations, since it is impossible to determine how many of the Fulani in Saint-Domingue reached the Caribbean from the Bight of Benin. However, it is likely that at least some of the Fulani or "Poulards" in Saint Domingue arrived from the north of Oyo, too. 

In addition, we also included the "Malais" or "Malez" and "Bernon" captives who appear in the runaway notices. The latter group, hailing from Borno, to the northeast of Oyo, were "infinitely rare" in the colony of Saint Domingue. Nonetheless, a few did reach the hell of colonial Haiti, likely via the Bight of Benin. The former group, however, present more difficulties. According to early 18th century sources such as the journal of the Chevalier des Marchais, "Malais" traders had already been traveling to Ouidah by 1704. His sometimes vague understanding of their origins suggests they were Muslim traders from a distant land northeast of Allada, possibly Hausaland or Borno. Since they allegedly followed certain Islamic dietary restrictions, used the Arabic language, wore robes of blue or white, and favored long beards, we are guessing the "Malais" traders hailed from Hausaland or a nearby region. The captives they sold on the Slave Coast, however, were probably from neighboring groups and other nearby regions, which means the "Malais" captives in Saint Domingue were likely some northern group. Alternatively, the "Malais" could also have been Muslim Yoruba, but that seems less likely for the 18th century. 

Overall, we found about 134 unambiguous cases of slaves from areas north of Oyo who engaged in marronage in Saint-Domingue during the years 1766-1790. While the total population of Bariba, Hausa, Nupe, Borno, and "Malais" captives imported in the colony is unknown, we believe Geggus's data on slave ethnicities in the period 1727-1797 may be illustrative of general patterns. In his survey, which is not meant to be a complete total for the various nations, he calculated 532 Nupe, Bariba and Hausa in Saint-Domingue. This number, 532, is out of a total sample of 13,334 slaves, suggesting Nupe, Hausa and Bariba represented nearly 4% of the enslaved population. Naturally, we need further data, particularly in light of evidence for the early appearance of Bariba and Nupe captives in Saint Domingue in the 1710s and 1730s, and, perhaps, Hausa before the 1760s. But, if we use 4% as a very rough estimate for the number of captives from the lands north of Oyo, perhaps 4% of total slave population on the eve of the Haitian Revolution were from the "Central Sudan" and nearby regions north of Oyo. This would give astronomically high figures, but suggest around 20,000 captives were possibly from that aforementioned region, over half Hausa. 

Another possible approach, though still highly flawed, is to use rough estimates for total population of a "nation" by using the general rate of marronage. If, as Eddins indicates, 12,857 individual slave runaways appeared in the colonial newspaper, one could divide that by a rough estimate for the total slave population in 1789 or 1790. Alternatively, one could take that rough rate of marronage and apply it to the total period of colonial rule, dividing it by the estimated 800,000 captives brought to Saint-Domingue. Of course, one would have to take into consideration slave mortality rates and total imports for the period from 1766-1790, which we lack sufficient sources and data to do. Some slaves may have also appeared more frequently as maroons based on their occupation and other factors, too, which can skew results. Consequently, the estimates are likely too high or too low in some cases. Nonetheless, it is probably a more accurate estimate than our attempt to use the numbers from Geggus's survey covering the years 1727-1797. Using the marronage escape rate, calculated by dividing 12,857 by a rough estimate of a total of 500,000 slaves in 1790/91, then about 2.57% of all slaves could be runaways. If, say, the Hausa runaways, which we enumerated to be 83 (possibly 84) individuals from 1766-1790, is our base, then we can estimate a total Hausa population based on the rough estimate that 2.57% of Hausas imported were maroons. Of course, it could have been higher or lower depending on specific conditions that shape the chances of marronage, but if we assume that 83 Hausas were 2.57% of the total Hausa population imported into the colony, based on the rough figure of 500,000 slaves in 1790, then about 3230 Hausas were imported into the colony. If one uses the figure of 800,000 as a rough estimate for total slave imports in Saint Domingue, and assume the Hausa proportion of the maroons (12,857) was comparable or adequate for the entire colonial era, then we would use the maroon rate of 1.607% (calculated by dividing 12857 by 800,000). The Hausa proportion would then increase to 5165, of which it is very likely high mortality rates significantly reduced. Applying this to our total sample of "Central Sudan" captives, 134, would bring us to an estimate ranging from 5211 to 8338. Again, high mortality rates would have reduced the number of survivors. 

Overall, assuming these captives arrived on French slave ships, they would represent about 3.4% to 5.4% of African captives purchased from the Bight of Benin in Saint-Domingue (based on Geggus's figures in "The French Slave Trade: An Overview." Those figures are actually plausible. Moreover, these lower figures seem more likely based on the data. If, we were to assume 4% of the captives of Saint Domingue were Nupe, Hausa, and Bariba, based on Geggus's survey of slave nations and gender ratios from 1727-1797, then their totals could have ranged from perhaps as many as 19,949 to 31,918. That would significantly boost their proportion in the "Bight of Benin" captives in Saint-Domingue, from about 13% to nearly 21%, a figure that seems far too high.

Of course, high mortality rates and the lack of adequate early data makes all of this very speculative. Our method requires one to assume the proportion of, say, Hausa slaves, in the maroon population was proportional to the total slave population's share of Hausa. Yet slaveholders held certain stereotypes about which "nations" were best for specific occupations, and additional factors such as location, type of plantation and urban versus rural must have shaped actual rates of marronage (at least, those reported in the press). So, the aforementioned estimates are only useful as very broad ranges that might provide a general idea. But it is interesting to note, nonetheless, that the "Hausa" significantly outnumbered other groups in Geggus's survey data from the areas north of Oyo. The Taqua or Tapa (Nupe) came second at 161, while there were only 84 Bariba. The Hausa appear more frequently as runaways, too, representing nearly 62% of the reported maroons from this region. It is possible that their higher rate of marronage was both due to a more distorted sex ratio as well as their higher numbers. If this is the case, then the Hausa may not have significantly outnumbered the Nupe and Bariba as our data seems to suggest.

11/7/24

Ahyssa, the Moor

One of those interesting cases which produced documentation on the specific origins of an enslaved  African in Saint Domingue is the case of Ahyssa. A "Moor" from the northern side of the Senegal River, she was kidnapped and enslaved in the Caribbean. We first read of her in passing, in a work by Haitian historian Jean Fouchard. Her case is interesting for what it says about colonial perceptions of Arabs and non-black Africans, as well as the somewhat detailed account of her background in Africa. 

According to a brief extract of the legal proceedings of case, published in a Journal des Causes celebres, Ahyssa came from the Ouled arcalapha tribe of "Moors" living about 80 lieus from the mouth of the Senegal. Her people were herders involved in the gum trade. The records of her case even provide the name of her parents, as well as general details about how the Arabs in her region recognized the authority of the Moroccan sultan. The racialized interpretation of their relations with black Africans south of the Senegal is also repeatedly emphasized, being presented as one driven by primordial animosity. We even learn the specific conditions of her enslavement, which were instigated by a black man, Aly Samba, who guided New England traders into the community of Ahyssa. Apparently, European and Western traders sometimes purchased black slaves from the communities on the other side of the river while buying gum and other goods from the Moors to the north. While initially presenting themselves as traders, the New England bandits raided and pillaged, kidnapping people and stealing. That is how Ahyssa ended up on a ship that carried her to Grenada, in the Antilles. What happened to the other Arabs kidnapped and sold into slavery in Grenada is never addressed.

Ahyssa's owner in the Antilles, a Cassarouy, was partly responsible for her kidnapping in West Africa. He later brought her with him to Martinique and Le Cap, in Saint-Domingue. After becoming ill, he promised her freedom in his 1774 testament. Furthermore, we are led to believe he supposedly never treated like a slave or subjected her to cruel actions. Based on this special treatment, one suspects Cassarouy treated Ahyssa, renamed Colombe, as a concubine or lover. Nonetheless, she found out to her horror that after her master's death, she was to be sold as a slave of the estate of the deceased Cassarouy. With the aid of a curator, she fought this and claimed her freedom as a "Moor" kidnapped from her homeland. Thanks to this, we have records of her case which are replete with details of her capture and her African background. In her case, her specifically non-black origins were a central part of the reason she was not considered legally enslaveable, and therefore deserved to have her emancipation recognized. 

Perhaps this case illustrates how, by 1776, racial lines in Saint Domingue had consolidated around more overtly racist ideology that specifically targeted "blackness" as fit for enslavement. Those of Indian (Amerindian) or Arab origin, however, could resist this. In Ahyssa's case, since she was possibly seen as a "mulatto" in Saint-Domingue's racial classificatory scheme, her Moor, or Arab background, were central to buttressing her claim to freedom. This may also explain why the case stresses racial animosity and conflict between Moors, or Arabs, and black Africans of the Senegambian region. The argument in favor of her independence also went into great depth to describe how, despite the occasional resemblance of races like hers with the "mulattoes" of Saint Domingue, a glance at Ahyssa was enough to illustrate that she was not actually one. She was, regardless of how dusky or tawny her skin color may have been, an Arab and the background of hostility between her people and black Africans may have been utilized in her case to stress this by Moreau de Saint-Mery. Furthermore, the fact that the English took her captive rather than the French was another point in favor of her liberation, since the French were supposedly more interested in maintaining peaceful relations with the Moors near the Senegal River.

Interestingly, it seems like claiming freedom on the grounds of being Arab did not work so well in the case of "Nar" captives in Louisiana. Labeled by a Wolof term for them, the Arab slaves of Louisiana do not seem to have able to escape their condition based on that argument. And they were sometimes explicitly linked with other "Negroes" among the captive slaves in Louisiana, despite occasionally being referred to as red or lighter-skinned. Midlo Hall's database on slaves in Louisiana is an excellent resource to learn more about the "Nar" or "Nards" in Louisiana.