Mariners, Renegades, and Castaways

 

I finally finished Moby-Dick, just to be able to read Mariners, Renegades and Castaways, a well-known essay by C.L.R. James on Herman Melville and the world in which we live. I find that we sometimes limit James to just a Caribbean or colonial context, ignoring his provocative works on American life, civilization, and literature. His work on American Civilization, as well as his study of Melville, are intimately linked to 14 years of life in the US and his experience with the barbarous, unjust treatment of immigrants and political dissidents by the US government. As a man from Trinidad who had lived in Europe and engaged with the international Left even before stepping foot on US soil, he was nonetheless very much shaped by his experience in this country. After all, much of his theoretical essays and provocative work on the question of state capitalism, the role of the masses, and anti-vanguardism seem to be a product of his time in the US. 

Although much has been written about the flawed aspects of James's analysis of Ahab and Melville, there is a recurring fear of the totalitarian personality as revealed in Ahab. Reading Melville makes it quite clear, too, how the US by the mid-19th century was a distinct civilization and Melville saw something of the coming crisis of the modern world. Ishmael, the powerless intellectual, Ahab, driven by totalitarian impulse, the diverse and motley crew of a modern, global industry of whaling (and the "savage" harpooners), and the inevitable downfall wrought by obsession and the irrational pursuit of Moby Dick do suggest some merit in James's analysis of the novel. Nonetheless, his study of Melville should be read in light of a Jamesian perspective on US civilization. 

It is in the failure of the diverse, international crew of the Pequod to come together in spontaneous creativity to end their alienation and seize the means of production that unavoidably leads to the demise of the ship. The officers, such as Starbuck, are too attached to their Quaker roots and the ideology of capital to resist, while Ishmael, though ensconced in a milieu of laborers, and friend of Queequeg, remains detached. Philosophy has not yet become sufficiently proletarian. And though a spirit of camaraderie exists among the crew, including the prominence of "savages" to challenge the dominant racial ideology of the day, they lack, in spite of technical proficiency, the wherewithal to overthrow Ahab (succumbing in awe to his attempts to exhibit control of nature or the allure of the doubloon). Nonetheless, there is something quite alluring in Jamesian thought on the US, and the role of mass culture and creative impulses in revolutionary change. It's a welcome change from something like Adorno, who took a rather dismal view to US mass culture, and perhaps remained so blinded by that European conception of high culture that he was unable to see the new "socialism" fermenting. 

Amerindian Presence in Saint Domingue

 

Grand Soleil, leader of the Natchez people. Their chief, also known as St. Cosme, was sold into slavery in Saint Domingue in the 1730s with 100s of his people. 

One topic that occasionally resurfaces is the theme of the indigenous past in Haitian history and literature. While the symbolism of the Taino or the indigenous past is worthy of research as a topic of its own merit, it is also interesting to consider French Saint Domingue's historically-documented "Indian" populations from the insular Caribbean and North and South America. These groups, rather than the Taino, were historically relevant and, arguably, significant in the early days of French settlement in Tortuga and Hispaniola. Indeed, during the time of the buccaneers and the frontier-like conditions of early Saint Domingue, indigenous peoples from the Caribbean and other lands were an important presence among the enslaved population and as trading partners of the French. By this era, the 17th century and early 18th century, there were no more indigenous Taino "Indians" on the island, unless one counts "mixed-race" descendants of Indians in corners of Spanish Santo Domingo. The village of Boya, for instance, was alleged by 18th century French and 19th century Haitian sources to have been founded as an Indian village in the 1500s, although none of its residents were "pure" Taino. Some 19th century Haitian authors such as Thomas Madiou and Emile Nau also admitted a degree of aboriginal ancestry among the Dominican population, but not for the Haitian population. Of course, that does not stop some more absurd manifestations of Taino revivalism from exaggerating Taino cultural traces in today's Haitians.

As for the indigenous populations of the island and Haiti, there seems to be very little evidence of any connection between modern Haitians and the precolonial inhabitants of the island. The "Indiens" of Saint Domingue appear to have come from Caribs, the Guianas, Louisiana, North America, and the Yucatan. To reiterate, by the time of the French presence in the 17th century, there were no more Taino groups on the island. Besides possible influence via Spanish Santo Domingo and today's Dominican Republic, one must look to the diverse "Indien" populations of the French colonial population. This makes it very unlikely that "Tainos" had any significant influence on Haitian culture, religion, and folklore, despite what one may find in Haitian literature or intellectual thought (Nau, Alexis, Beauvoir-Dominique). However, there very well could be influences from non-Taino populations in Saint Domingue, which is a topic of interest in its own right. This may explain some of the alleged "Amerindian" aspects to Haitian culture more than any far-fetched theory of cultural continuity from the pre-Columbian population of the island to modern Haitians.

Runaway ad for Joseph, a Carib. Caribs continued to appear in runaway slave ads and were imported to Saint Domingue. Even when held in low regard as captives, they continued to be exploited as chattel throughout the 18th century.

So, where does one begin with the "Indien" presence of Saint Domingue? One must go back to the origins of French colonization of the Caribbean, particularly St. Christophe and the Lesser Antilles. The French encountered "Carib" groups who were still autonomous, and occasionally a threat to Spanish and European settlements in the region. In their interactions with Caribs, the Dutch, English and enslaved Africans, the seeds of the French Antilles were planted. It was probably there, during the 17th century, that early French lexical Creoles evolved. By the second half of the 17th century, a French presence was asserting itself in Tortuga and northern Saint Domingue, propelled by expulsions from St. Christophe. According to 18th century Saint Domingue sources, many of the affranchi families claimed descent from "Indian" women and French men who left St. Christophe. Whether or not that was actually true is another question, but the French and English did interact with the Caribs in St. Christophe before slaughtering them. It is also likely the case that, due to the paucity of European women, some French married "Indian" women. Moreover, among the French and other Europeans in Tortuga were Caribs and "Indian" slaves. Indeed, in 1653, the number of "Indian" slaves was higher than those of Africans in Tortuga. "Indian" slaves from the Caribs and other groups were also acquired through raids on Spanish territories. One expedition to the Yucatan in the late 1600s brought several indigenous women to the southern part of Saint Domingue, where most ended up as wives to Frenchmen. Thus, "Indians" were, in the early period of French colonization, a significant part of the captive population while "Indian" women were probably represented among the mothers of "mixed-race" people in the colony's southern regions.

A woman departing for France listed an Indian women for sale, alongside two others of African descent, in her advertisement posted in the main Saint Domingue newspaper. The "Indienne" woman is said to have domestic skills many Indian women in the colony were employed for. She could also have been of "East Indian" origin, but Moreau de Saint-Mery mentioned the common use of "Amerindian" women for domestic labor.

"Indians" were not only captives to the French, but traders and fellow participants in French raids on Spanish colonies. The 17th century competition for Caribbean colonies among the European powers in the region led to conditions favorable for trading relations that may have created opportunities for various "Indian" groups to play Europeans against each other. For instance, 3 Indian chiefs from the Gulf of Darien, whose subjects had cooperated with French raids against Spanish colonies, were treated as guests of honor by the governor of Saint Domingue in Leogane. In 1701, a Pedre, chief of the Sambres, was also received by the interim governor in Leogane, suggesting trade relations that were still important. That "Indian" chiefs were honored guests to the political establishment of the colony in the late 17th century is a testament to trade links and raiding partnerships between French and "Indians" in the circum-Caribbean region. Indeed, Caribs and other "Indian" populations sold African or "Indian" slaves to the French, angering the monopoly company established by the French government to provide African slaves to Saint Domingue. This suggests that in those early frontier-like days of Saint Domingue, before plantation slavery was firmly entrenched and the shift to sugar and coffee plantations began, the French colony partly relied on partnerships and relations with indigenous populations in the region. Through their trading partnerships with "Indian" groups and other populations, they procured slaves, supplies, and relationships that likely profited both sides, at least initially. The "Indian" captives probably worked as domestics and, perhaps, alongside indentured French workers and African slaves on tobacco plantations in the 1600s.

Free people of "Indian" descent sometimes appeared in the newspapers. Marie-Magdelaine Nicole, for instance, is listed as a "mestive libre," and was tied to a merchant in Le Cap. While "mestives" (which was perhaps more ambiguous as a racial category than one might suspect) may not always connote "Amerindian" heritage, it often did. 

However, the transition to plantation slavery and the reliance on enslaved Africans altered the nature of "Amerindian" relations with French Saint Domingue. Tied to this process is French colonialism in Louisiana, Guyane, and Canada, as wars between the French and various native groups occasionally led to their enslavement. Or, as in the case of North America, the English colonies also sold Native Americans to the French. One particularly noticeable example occurred in the 1730s, when an estimated 500 Natchez were sold to Saint Domingue after losing a war with the French. While Indians were probably never more than a tiny minority of the enslaved population in 18th century Saint Domingue (Geggus suggests that the combined population of "Amerindian" and "East Indian" slaves in Saint Domingue was less than 1% of the total by the late 1700s), their presence shaped colonial definitions of race and inclusion. One cannot discount the possibility that they were more numerous among the free people of color, too.

 

According to Moreau de Saint-Mery, "Amerindian" slaves in the colony hailed from the "sauvages" of South America, Mississippi, the Fox and others in North America, and Caribs. While a Creole proverb would suggest Caribs were not seen as "good" slaves, a number of them appear in runaway slave ads. A few were identified as "mulatto" or mixed-race, and it is likely that Caribs were transported to Saint Domingue from other French colonies within the Caribbean, or perhaps the product of conflicts between independent Carib groups in the Lesser Antilles with the French. Indian women and children from Louisiana and North America were sometimes, per Moreau de Saint-Mery, brought by the English, and often employed as domestics. The English, it must be remembered, engaged in active slave trading of indigenous people in North America, often shipping them to colonies in the Caribbean. French Louisiana, according to Gwendolyn Midlo Hall, also engaged in a small-scale trade of Indian captives for African or black slaves, following English practices. It was probably an ongoing trade for much of the 1700s as French settlers in Louisiana expressed an interest in acquiring African slaves. The trade was common enough to the point that, as Jack Forbes cites, a Spanish ship of Santo Domingo intercepted a French vessel carrying Indians to Saint Domingue in the 1750s. Unfortunately for those interested in studying the "Indians" of Saint Domingue, quantifying the total  number of Indians in Saint Domingue from the initial French presence to the Haitian Revolution is extremely difficult. Colonial censuses stopped including them as a separate population group after 1713. Geggus's important article, "The Naming of Haiti", cites a 1681 Census that found 480 "mulattoes" and Indians, all enslaved. In 1631, the South of Saint Domingue had 128 Indians, but only 83 in 1713. The disappearing Indians probably merged into the general free people of color category.

 

Yota, a young Carib maroon, was only around 14 years old. His owner was a minister in Le Cap.

Moreau de Saint-Mery offers additional some hints, claiming there were more than 300 "Sauvages" and Indians enslaved in Saint Domingue at the beginning of the 1700s. Around 500 Natchez were sent to the colony in the 1730s, but how many actually survived the voyage is unclear. Some of their survivors lived on in the colony's chief city, today's Cap-Haitien. A study of 3 parishes by Jacques Houdaille, focusing on Jacmel, Cayes-de-Jacmel, and Fond-des Negres, found "Indiens" to have comprised 1.3% of legitimate births, 0.3% for illegitimate. Houdaille's study also claimed Indians from Yucatan and Veracruz were in the colony prior to 1700, probably a reference to Indian women from a 1685 raid. Some of the "Indiens" he located were apparently from Aruba, suggesting that there may have been a smuggling of small numbers of Indians from other parts of the region to the southern coast. For the captives from the French colony in South America, enslavement of Arouas, Palicours, Courarys was practiced, but on a small scale. Consequently, any trade of indigenous South Americans to Saint Domingue would have probably been a tiny proportion of the total Indien slave population in Guyane, which was always small. In short, a clear indication of their numbers is unavailable, but they were relatively important in the 1600s before becoming numerically negligible in the 18th century.

Indiens also appear in the parish records of Saint Domingue, such as Marie Louise, whose death was recorded in Baynet. A systematic study of each parish would likely reveal much more about the numbers and social relations of "Indiens" in Saint Domingue.

What can be said of the "Indien" presence in Saint Domingue? Occupational profiles, race relations, legacies, and other concerns remain somewhat speculative. Enslaved women may have been used primarily as domestics, and are sometimes advertised as such in newspapers. Males may have been servants, plantation workers, fishermen, cooks, or barbers. The runaway slave ads point to urban and plantation settings, suggesting they were used in both types of environments. How enslaved Indians got along with African slaves is unknown, but Contant d'Orville suggested an antipathy between Caribs and blacks in the French Caribbean. It is also clear that free people of color attempted to claim Indien descent to justify their claims to titles or political rights of whites in the second half of the 18th century. According to Hiliard d'Auberteuil, the "mixed-bloods" claimed descent from "Indians" in St. Christophe, who came to Saint Domingue in 1640. Garrigus, in Before Haiti, uncovers examples of free people of color families like the Gelée  in Les Cayes, who requested the Port-au-Prince council confirm his letters of nobility, claiming Indian descent rather than African. Clearly, by 1767, the French official position viewed Indians as "born free", unlike those of African descent. Indians, if not "stained" by African ancestry, were supposedly able to enjoy the rights of whites as assimilated peoples. And like free people of African descent, examples of "Indien" slaveholders can be found in at least one of the runaway slave ads, posted by a Roesayro, Mulatto Indian of Dondon. 

 

Like other free people of color, the "Mulatto Indian" Roesayro owned slaves. In this case, his "Senegalese" slave, Pierre, ran away.

The relationship of the "Indiens" to the free people of color population might be the best way to consider the "Indien" presence. As groups in between the enslaved majority and the white colonial population, it is not unlikely that the two often mingled, married, and combined their resources. It is possible that some may have strategically chosen Indian partners to facilitate their claims to rights increasingly taken away from those of African descent in the 1760s and 1770s. Some prominent families among the affranchis who also claimed Indien descent from St. Christophe or perhaps the early foundations of the colony were probably telling the truth in some cases. Thomas Madiou, prominent Haitian historian, also claimed an Indien ancestor in his autobiography. His mother was, according to him, the daughter of a woman of the Indien race from Le Cap. Historian Jean Fouchard found evidence of "Indian" descent among free people of color, using the example of the Dartigue family. Last, but certainly not least, relations between free people of African and "Indien" origin might explain the bizarre assertion of Amerindian ancestry Redpath assigned to President Geffrard in his Guide to Hayti. One should not be surprised if more than a few free people of color, particularly in the South of the colony, descend, in part, from Indians. It is also possible that certain names among Haitians after independence suggest "Indien" origin. The example of Benjamin Indien from Port-au-Prince in 1849 may very well reflect an "Indien" background or ancestry. 

 

After Haitian independence, one would assume formerly enslaved Indiens and free people of color of Indian origins probably stayed in the colony. Those who left may have returned from the US, France, and other lands later in the 19th century. Knowing that there was a small "Indien" population in Haiti on the eve of independence may help explain why "Indiens" were included in Haitian citizenship for various constitutions. Indeed, it could help explain why the indigenous name of the island was chosen to rename Saint Domingue. As for "Indiens" who immigrated after independence, I have yet to encounter any examples besides Benjamin Fruneau (whose mother was "East Indian). However, it is very likely that some of the African Americans who came to Haiti in the 1820s and 1860s included people of Native descent. As for "Indien" survival in Haiti after 1804, some of the more absurd theorists have even proposed sites where "Indiens" survived in isolated parts of the country. But Aristide Achille's study of the problem of Indian cultural survival in Haiti has pointed out the lack of evidence for assertions by Louis Emile Elie of Indian survival in the caves of the Grand Riviere du Nord, the "Vien-Viens" of Saltrou, habitation Lamarque in Kenscoff, and habitations Lebrun and Poulardier in Petit-Goave. It could very well be the case that some of the populations in those areas may descend, in part, from "Indien" slaves of the colonial period, but they are very unlikely to have any connection to the Taino.

 

Perhaps a testament to the loosely defined "races" in Saint Domingue, examples of runaway slaves who called themselves "Indien" appear. In this example, Francois is identified as a "Mulatto" by his owner, yet he calls himself Indian. Note that he is also described as having long, dark hair, perhaps making it easier for him to claim an "Indian" origin. It is possible that enslaved people were well aware of the legal rights of "free" Indians under French law, and may have, like free people of color, claimed it in their own interests.

Overall, the evidence for significant Taino influences and legacies in Haiti appear unfounded, or marginal at best. The story of the non-Taino Indians in Saint Domingue, however, was relevant to the history of the colony, slave trade networks, and conceptualization of race and differential status for free people of color. Although a clear understanding of their total numbers remains elusive, it is clear that Indians from other parts of the Americas were important to the colony in the 17th and 18th centuries. Their presence among the captive population and free people of color influenced the discourse of race and political rights. "Amerindian" people likely contributed to the formation of the free people of color group, whose role in the destabilizing of Saint Domingue and its racial logic cannot be forgotten.  Despite their small numbers, they may have also influenced Haitian religion, cuisine, language, and culture in ways not legible today. Considering the fact they actually interacted with the enslaved and free people of color of Saint Domingue, unlike the Tainos, any understanding of Native American influences on Haiti probably owes more to them than any alleged cultural tie to the Taino.

 

Bibliography

Adélaïde-Merlande, J. (1995). Madiou, historien d’Haïti. Bulletin de la Sociétéd'Histoire de la Guadeloupe, (106), 12–22. https://doi.org/10.7202/1043280ar

Aristide, Achille, « le Problème de l'Indien et de ses survivances en Haïti », dans Bulletin du Bureau d'ethnologie, série 11, n° 13, Port-au-Prince, Imprimerie de l'Etat, 1956, p. 32-40. 

d'Orville, Contant. Histoire des différens peuples du monde, contenant les cérémonies religieuses et civiles, l'origine des religions, leurs sectes & superstitions, & les moeurs & usages de chacque nation ... par m. Contant Dorville. Paris: Herissant fils], 1770.

Forbes, Jack D. Africans and Native Americans: The Language of Race and the Evolution of Red-Black Peoples. 2nd ed. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1993.

Fouchard, Jean. The Haitian Maroons: Liberty or Death. New York, N.Y.: E.W. Blyden Press, 1981. 

 

Gallay, Alan. The Indian Slave Trade: The Rise of the English Empire in the American South, 1670-1717. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002.

 

Garrigus, John D. Before Haiti: Race and Citizenship in French Saint-Domingue. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006.

 

Geggus, David. "The Naming Of Haiti." NWIG: New West Indian Guide / Nieuwe West-Indische Gids 71, no. 1/2 (1997): 43-68. Accessed November 4, 2020. http://www.jstor.org/stable/41849817

Hall, Gwendolyn Midlo. Africans in Colonial Louisiana: The Development of Afro-Creole Culture in the Eighteenth Century. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1992. 

Hilliard d'Auberteuil, Michel-René. Considérations Sur L'état Présent De La Colonie Française De Saint-Domingue: Ouvrage Politique Et Législatif, Présenté Au Ministre De La Marine. Paris: Grangé, 1976.

Houdaille, Jacques. "Quelques données sur la population de Saint-Domingue au XVIIIe Siècle." Population (French Edition) 28, no. 4/5 (1973): 859-72. Accessed November 11, 2020. doi:10.2307/1531260.

 

____. "Trois Paroisses De Saint-Domingue Au XVIIIe Siècle. Étude Démographique." Population (French Edition) 18, no. 1 (1963): 93-110. Accessed November 19, 2020. doi:10.2307/1527351.

 

Hrodej, Philippe. L'esclave et les plantations : de l'établissement de la servitude à son abolition : hommage à Pierre Pluchon. Rennes: Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2008.

Marchand-Thébault. "L'esclavage en Guyane française sous l'ancien régime". Outre Revue française d'histoire d'outre-mer 47, no. 166 (1960): 5–75.

McClellan, James E. (James Edward). Colonialism and Science: Saint Domingue in the Old Regime. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1992. 

 

Moreau de Saint-Méry, Méderic Louis Élie. Description topographique, physique, civile, politique et historique de la partie françoise de l'isle Saint-Domingue. 3 vols. Philadelphia:  1797.

 

Nau, Emile. Histoire Des Caciques D'Haïti. 2. éd. publiée avec l'autorisation des héritiers de l'auteur par Ducis Viard. Paris: G. Guérin, 1894.

Peytraud, Lucien Pierre. L'esclavage Aux Antilles Françaises Avant 1789: D'après Des Documents Inédits Des Archives Coloniales. Paris: Hachette, 1897.

Redpath, James. A Guide to Hayti. Boston: Haytian bureau of emigration, 1861.

ROGERS, Dominique. "Raciser la Société: Un Projet administratif pour une société domingoise complexe (1760-1791)." Journal De La Société Des Américanistes 95, no. 2 (2009): 235-60. Accessed November 1, 2020. http://www.jstor.org/stable/24606684.

 

Roux, Benoît. "Les Indiens caraïbes, acteurs et objets de traite aux Antilles françaises (XVIIe-XVIIIe siècle)." Cahiers d'Histoire de l'Amérique Coloniale, L'Harmattan, 2012, pp.187-188. ⟨halshs-01015141⟩

 

Rushforth, Brett.  Bonds of Alliance: Indigenous and Atlantic Slaveries in New France. Chapel Hill : Williamsburg, Va.: University of North Carolina Press, 2012.

Asian Indians in Saint Domingue: An Early Indo-Caribbean Population

 While researching the presence of indigenous peoples of the Americas in Saint Domingue, in an attempt to come to some kind of historical understanding of the relationship between "Amerindian" peoples and Haiti, one comes across numerous references to Asian Indians in the sources. Although their numbers must have been even tinier than those of free and enslaved indigenous peoples in the French colony, attempting to enumerate and study their presence in Saint Domingue highlights the global dimensions of French Empire in the 18th century. Moreover, the "East Indian" slaves and free people of color also push back the origins of the Indo-Caribbean, placing them deeper into the historical panorama of the region. This post will attempt a brief look at this minority of the captive population to see what it reveals about the nature of Saint Domingue, its heterogeneous enslaved population, and the global networks in the crown jewel of 18th century French colonialism.

Some of the best evidence for East Indian captives in Saint Domingue are newspaper advertisements for goods from ships arriving from India. Like the above, le Confiant, appearing in Affiches Americaines, East Indian slaves were probably small in number and part of a mixed cargo of various textiles, teas and goods from the East. In this case, about 40 "beaux" blacks are part of the goods for sale. It is possible some of the French ships coming from India stopped in the Mascarenes, Mozambique or Madagascar to pick up slaves or resupply before crossing the Atlantic. However, the easiest explanation is that the 40 captives on the Confiant were from India, presumably purchased in or near the French comtpoirs on the Indian coast. Indians were also sold or kidnapped from territories under English East India Company rule and put on French or Dutch ships.

First, one must begin with the origins of East Indian slaves. There is evidence that the Portuguese were already selling slaves from Goa and other regions of the subcontinent as early as the 16th century. Europeans were also bringing African or Asian slaves to serve in cities like Portuguese Goa, while also purchasing local Indians who were either sold by their families during times of famine or crisis or kidnapped by greedy local merchants. Relatively early on, Asian captives found their way to Europe and, likely, the Americas. Indeed, according to the work of Forbes, Asian Indian captives were present in Seville, Lisbon and other parts of the Iberian peninsula, alongside West African, North African, indigenous peoples from the Americas and Canary Islanders. The Dutch were also engaged in the slave trade in the East Indies, importing a large number of slaves from the coasts of India to the Cape Colony.

Runaway slave ad for a Creole Indian barber named Aly. It's very possible that Aly was not of East Indian origin, but his occupation and name may be more likely references to Asian Indians. Some Asian Indian slaves were Muslims, like the Lascars. If Aly was his chosen name then he may have been a Lascar. The fact that he is identified as being born in the colony demonstrates Asian Indian captives lived long enough to reproduce.

  

By the time the French were engaging in Indian slave trading in the 18th century, captives were purchased or kidnapped (probably both) from Bengal, Coromandel, Malabar, and sold to ships at the various French comptoirs on the coast. A few of their captives came from other parts of the subcontinent, like Goa. According to various sources, 18th century Bengal suffered from slave trading, but Malabar and Coromandel were also active ports. Bengal was particularly associated with the sale of children, often exported on Dutch and French ships. Megan Vaughan's work on Mauritius tells us Indian slaves were Lascars, Topas, Malabar, Bengali, Talinga, but there were likely other groups represented. While the French East Indian Company was primarily interested in purchasing Indian textiles and other goods, which were also sold in Africa (for more slaves) and in France and its colonies, Indian peoples were up for sale. The total numbers of Indian slaves carried on French ships was surely quite small, as the captives must have usually been part of a mixed cargo consisting of various commodities. For a reliable estimate on the estimated number of Indian captives brought by the French to their colonies in the Mascarenes, between 1670-1810, historian Richard B. Allen suggests 21,000. Not counted in that estimate is the number of free Indian artisans and sailors who went to Mauritius voluntarily, as Indian artisans were prized a a cheaper source of labor in the than European "skilled labor." By the time of the Haitian Revolution, the French slave trade in India was interrupted by war with Britain that ended large-scale slave trading from that region. Therefore, it is likely that most Indians in Saint Domingue had arrived by the early 1790s.

Runaway slave ad for Charlot, a "natif des grandes Indes." Charlot's origins in India and status as a carpenter further suggest a connection of Asian Indian captives with trades or "skilled occupations" in Saint Domingue and other French colonies.

Of course, 21,000 is a tiny number compared to the much larger quantities of captives from Africa (Mozambique, East Africa, Madagascar, and, to a lesser extent, West Africa) in the Mascarenes. Yet a significant minority of the total slave population in Mauritius and Reunion were Indians. Considering the vast distances separating Saint Domingue and India, and the intra-imperial networks connecting the Mascarenes and French slave trading networks in nearby Mozambique, the total number of East Indian captives who made it to the French Caribbean was probably a small fraction of the estimated total of 21,000. This is backed up by various advertisements in Saint Domingue newspapers of the arrival of ships from India and runaway slave advertisements for Indian maroons from Mauritius and Reunion. Most of the Indians who came on ships directly from India were part of mixed a mixed cargo with small numbers of slaves, ranging in number from as low as 16 to 40. The only possible exception to this is the case of La Cibele, identified by Richard B. Allen as a slave ship that arrived in Saint Domingue in 1778. Reaching Saint Domingue from the coasts of India, with 258 men, 49 women, 57 boys and 22 girls for sale, it must have been a particularly long and hellish voyage.  One cannot help but wonder if this ship actually picked up slaves from India then stopped to resupply in the Mascarenes before acquiring more from Mozambique or East Africa. Either way, it seems to the only example of a French slave that may have carried hundreds of Indians to Saint Domingue in a single voyage.

Sometimes, runaway slave ads specifically mention places in India that make it clear said maroon was from the East Indies, like Zamor.

 

Other sources from within Saint Domingue also suggest the East Indian presence was quite small. According to Moreau de Saint-Méry's encyclopedic tome on the colony, the "Oriental Indians" were fewer than the "Western" Indians. He also used a Creole-sounding word to designate them, zingre. Their racial mixtures with Africans in the colony, "qui sont aussi infiniment rares dans la colonie," suggests not only a small population but one that, perhaps, rarely intermarried with the African majority of the enslaved population.  In addition, David Geggus's exhaustive research on plantation inventories in Saint Domingue also point to a very small "Indien" presence, less than 1% of the total captive population. In his definition of Indian were included "Amerindians" and East Indians, and Saint-Méry has already indicated that the former outnumbered the latter. Another scholar, McClellan, estimated about 500 Indians were in Saint Domingue by the late 18th century, although this could have been mostly "Amerindian" people. Unfortunately, it does not take into account the numbers of "Indians" in Saint Domingue at various moments in the late 1600s and early 1700s, which, if one counts descendants who were "reclassified" as free people of color, makes 500 probably an underestimate. 

 

Michel, a "Mulatto Indian" from what is now Mauritius, is a perfect example of the ways in which slaves from French Indian ocean colonies were sometimes transported to the Caribbean.

 

Thus, in consideration of the above sources, this blog will suggest the total number of East Indians in Saint Domingue was likely in the hundreds, perhaps no more than 500 or 600, across the 18th century. With the exception of La Cibele in 1778, when several hundred arrived, most were likely arriving in the colony as parts of the mixed cargo of ships from India. Some may have been sold or transferred from the Mascarenes on other vessels. This small-scale trade, perhaps most consistent in the period of 1770-1793, leads one to think the total numbers of East Indians must have been low. Of course, some may have arrived on ships that also acquired slaves at Mozambique or the Swahili Coast. To what extent were Asian captives from the Mascarenes part of that traffic is unknown, but likely minimal compared to the thousands of "Mozambiques" who appear in Saint Domingue during the later decades of the 18th century. Nonetheless, all the above suggests Indians were a minuscule part of the total slave population, vastly outnumbered by hundreds of thousands of West, Central, and, increasingly, East Africans.

Etienne is identified as a black Indian creole of what is now Reunion. Clearly, at least a few East Indian slaves from the Mascarenes were sold in Saint-Domingue or brought there by the French. Some, like Etienne, were singled out for speaking French.

Now that it is established that the East Indian presence was very minimal, and probably more concentrated in Saint Domingue than other French colonies in the Antilles (perhaps the greatest concentration of East Indians in the Caribbean during the 18th century?), which the runaway slave ads seem to suggest, what can one say of their presence in the colony? Since written sources alluding to them are rare, one can look to conditions of Indian enslavement in the Masacarenes for possible hints. In the Mascarene colonies, Indians were often stereotyped as more obedient and intelligent than their Malagasy and African counterparts. And it is true that Indian slaves were often employed in trades that slaves from Madagascar and Mozambique were less likely to perform. However, the stereotypes of slaves, as provided by French planters and colonial authorities, were not always based in reality. One must also account for the differences in "national" or ethnic stereotypes that various plantation societies developed about the same groups of people. Those caveats aside, it is likely that French stereotypes in Saint Domingue of "blacks" and "Indians" from the subcontinent were similar to those of their planter counterparts in the Mascarenes, or at least influenced by them. Further, if the association of Indian captives with domestic labor, added to the fact that many were children or young adults, was true for Saint Domingue as well, then Indians in Saint Domingue probably served similar functions as domestic slaves in the towns and plantation homes. Moreover, Indian captives may have also worked as sailors and in urban trades in Le Cap and other towns of Saint Domingue. Perhaps many worked as barbers, servants, cooks, fishermen, bakers, blacksmiths and assistants, if runaway slave ads are reliable indications. A few were listed as speaking French or had traveled to France, suggesting that some would have been valued as fluent speakers of the dominant language and perhaps well traveled across the French Atlantic and Indian Ocean worlds.

 

Francois, identified as an Indian from the Coromandel coast, was clearly from the subcontinent.

 

 

Unfortunately, it is difficult to say what, if any, were the relations between these and African or Creole slaves of the colony. If free, they were, in theory, entitled to the rights of whites, like those of "Amerindian" descent. Free Indians may have been quite similar to free people of African descent, but evidence from Mauritius suggests at least a partial separation of the free people of color population in Port-Louis (Camp des Malabars was an "Indian" quarter, though Indians also lived in the free black African quarter and vice versa). But scholars also point out the porous nature of borders between Indian, Malagasy and Africans in Mauritius. While some of the Indians retained their sense of identity and continued to wear clothes affiliated with their regional origins, many probably shaped or joined the burgeoning "Creole" culture of the enslaved and free "black" population of the island. For Saint Domingue, where the Indian population was far smaller, there is no evidence of a "Camp des Malabars" and they might have merged into the general slave and free people of color categories rather quickly. Those who were free may have become slaveholders themselves, if "Indien" owners identified in runaway ads were indeed Asian.

 

Jean-Louis, of the "Malabar nation" in India, is associated with a ship captain coming from Mozambique. This illustrates how French slaving in the Indian Ocean sometimes brought captives from different parts of Africa, Madagascar, and India to Saint Domingue.

Besides the evidence of a limited residential separation of the racial "castes" in Mauritius's Port-Louis, there is evidence in France itself of Indian slaves suing for their freedom on the basis of non-African origin. There may have been, by the late 18th century, a sense among some Indians and Europeans that enslavement was only to be associated with those bearing the "indelible stain" of African ancestry.  This was the case with "Amerindian" peoples, who were supposed to be given the rights of whites and be exempt from racial prejudice. Therefore, Indians, despite their dark skin, were not to be associated with Africans and should be emancipated or enjoy the rights of whites. This development is tied to the growth of racial ideology \ might have appealed to Indians living in the Mascarenes and Saint Domingue as grounds for their freedom and claims to the rights and privileges of the white population. Increasingly discriminatory laws against free people of color in Saint Domingue may have also pressured those of "Indien" origin to distinguish themselves from African-descended people. It certainly led to some free people of color in Saint Domingue claiming Indian descent in response to discriminatory laws. Of course, the remaining question is to what extent were Indians, of the occidental and oriental types, actually receiving the rights and privileges of whites? Those who were "unmixed" with Africans may have had an easier time attaining the aforementioned privileges, but free people of color who claimed "Indien" origin (in this case, almost always "Amerindian") were refused patents recognizing that heritage. What were things actually like for people of East Indian origin remains to be seen. If the example of Mauritius gives any indication, some may have been able to become landowners like other free people of color. 

Some of the runaway slaves who found their way to Saint Domingue embodied all the vast influences, cultures, and imperial rivalries of the Indian Ocean. This example, of a black cook and baker, a "Creole of Goa," is mentioned as someone who not only speaks French, Portuguese, and English, but nearly all the languages of Africa's eastern littoral. This means this "Creole of Goa" may have been of African origin, and probably spoke Swahili. A perfect example of the complex inter-imperial slave trade networks that connected India and Africa via Portuguese and French trade in the Indian Ocean.

So, what became of Asian Indians in Saint Domingue during and after the Haitian Revolution? Runaway slave ads before and during the early 1790s attest to their presence. One would think most merged into the general population, and were given the same rights as other citizens. In fact, the case of Benjamin Fruneau, according to Madiou, who came to Haiti after independence, indicates Haiti's willingness to grant citizenship rights to people of Indian descent included Asians. But during the course of the Haitian revolution, some East Indian captives from Saint Domingue were brought to the US by their fleeing French owners. Runaway slave advertisements from Virginia in the 1790s reference an East Indian who may have been trying to return to Saint Domingue. The case of Crispin, who was in brought to Philadelphia in 1791, answers some of our questions. Crispin, on the run in Virginia, was allegedly waiting for passage to Saint Domingue, where, in 1794, slavery was abolished. That he wished to return to the island indicates his wish to live as an emancipated person, and put his hopes in a free Saint Domingue.

Twenty Dollars Reward. Run away from his Master in the City of Philadelphia, on Saturday the 15th of November last, a kind of Mulatto East-India Boy named CRISPIN, about 16 years old, 5 feet 4 inches high, slender built; he has been in the city for about 3 years speaks French and broken English; has straight black hair, which he sometimes ties; well made and walks upright; had on when he went away an almost new black hat, new short Jacket, and a pair of French fashioned trousers with feet to them, made of grey coating with plated buttons, white shirt, French neck handkerchief, and an almost new pair of shoes tied with ribbon, and wears sometime a National Cockade. There is reason to believe he has been brought into the state by a Frenchman, and is at present somewhere in or about Williamsburg or Norfolk waiting for a passage to St. Domingo. Whoever will secure the said boy in jail of this state so that his Master may get him again, shall have the above reward of twenty Dollars paid by the Printer of this Paper, with reasonable charges.--Norfolk, Dec. 9, 1794.

In some rare cases, East Indian captives owned by the French were brought to the US. In Norfolk, Virginia, a Frenchman posted an ad for his runaway "East India mulatto" boy, Crispin, who is identified as waiting for a passage to St. Domingo. 

 

 

 As for other East Indians from Saint Domingue, the case of African American John Pierre Burr's mother demonstrates the East Indian/Saint Domingue presence in Philadelphia's free black population. Burr's sister would later join the Haitian emigration movement in the 1820s, perhaps remembering their mother's Saint Domingue roots. Jack Forbes also mentioned, in passing, a family of East Indian and white origin from Saint Domingue living in South Carolina in 1817. Thus, 'mixed-race' Saint Domingue and Haitian families of Indian origin were found among the Saint Domingue diaspora in the US, and may have returned to Haiti during the 1820s and other periods. Similar families almost surely existed in post-1804 Haiti, but tracking them after the colonial period is difficult. Considering their small numbers and younger profile, one would assume they rather quickly merged into the general population. Those who were free before the Haitian Revolution may have married into similar families, and perhaps would have been met by Benjamin Fruneau in France and Haiti. While Madiou's account of Fruneau's origins suggest he heard about Haiti while living in Europe, it is possible he was already familiar with Saint Domingue as an important French colony where Asian Indians were present. This is pure speculation, but possible, given the circulation of people and goods between the two corners of the French colonial world. 

 

An advertisement for more goods for sale brought by La Parfait-Union. Included among its merchandise were 16 "beaux" Negroes, one of whom was a cook. This is another example of the fact that French ships coming from India included slaves in the cargo, albeit at much lower numbers than those coming directly from Africa. 

Since there are limitations to the sources used here, and a reliance on argument by analogy with regards to the Mascarenes, this post barely scratches the surface of a topic germane to the history of Indo-Caribbean peoples. While focusing on the territory with no known association with Indian immigration in the 19th and 20th centuries, baring a few exemptions (Dadlani from Jamaica, Fruneau from Mauritius/France), this post attempted to uncover and, in a limited way, analyze the presence of Indian slaves in the most important plantation colony of the 18th century.  While East Indians were in the Americas in the 16th century, and appear in various colonies and territories of the Caribbean-region during the colonial period, this blog post attempted to highlight those of Saint Domingue, postulating a perhaps greater number of them in this particular colony. The presence of East Indian slaves in the Caribbean may also yield insights into the nature of indentured Indian worker programs in the 19th and 20th centuries, demonstrating the long association of Indian people with coercive labor in parts of the Indian Ocean World and the Caribbean. Their presence also points to the interlocking nature of French colonialism and trade in the 18th century. For instance, French ships carried Indian textiles (and captives) for consumers in France and Africa (for additional slaves), and Indian textiles were key to clothing enslaved subjects in the Caribbean. The presence of actual Indian slaves in Saint Domingue adds another dimension to this, with intercontinental trade, migration, and coercive labor systems joining together European encroachment and hegemony in the two Indies.

Bibliography

Allen, Richard Blair. European Slave Trading in the Indian Ocean, 1500-1850. Athens, Ohio: Ohio University Press, 2014. 

 

----"Suppressing a Nefarious Traffic: Britain and the Abolition of Slave Trading in India and the Western Indian Ocean, 1770-1830." The William and Mary Quarterly, Third Series, 66, no. 4 (2009): 873-94. Accessed November 1, 2020. http://www.jstor.org/stable/40467545.

 

Carter, Marina. 'Slavery and Unfree Labour in the Indian Ocean,' History Compass, 4:5 (2006): 800–813.

 

Filliot, Jean-Michel. La Traite Des Esclaves Vers Les Mascareignes Au XVIIIe Siècle. Paris: ORSTOM, 1974.

Garrigus, John D. Before Haiti: Race and Citizenship in French Saint-Domingue. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006.

 

Geggus, David. "The Naming Of Haiti." NWIG: New West Indian Guide / Nieuwe West-Indische Gids 71, no. 1/2 (1997): 43-68. Accessed November 4, 2020. http://www.jstor.org/stable/41849817.

 

Hooper, Jane & David Eltis."The Indian Ocean in Transatlantic Slavery." Slavery & Abolition, 34 no. 3 (2013): 353-375.

Major, Andrea. Slavery, Abolitionism and Empire in India, 1772-1843. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2012.

McClellan, James E. (James Edward). Colonialism and Science: Saint Domingue in the Old Regime. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1992. 

Moreau de Saint-Méry, Méderic Louis Élie. Description topographique, physique, civile, politique et historique de la partie françoise de l'isle Saint-Domingue. 3 vols. Philadelphia:  1797.

Shell, Robert Carl-Heinz. Children of Bondage: A Social History of the Slave Society At the Cape of Good Hope, 1652-1838. Hanover, N.H.: University Press of New England, 1994.

Vaughan, Megan. Creating the Creole Island: Slavery in Eighteenth-century Mauritius. Durham: Duke University Press, 2005. 

 

---. "Slavery and Colonial Identity in Eighteenth-Century Mauritius." Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 8 (1998): 189-214. Accessed November 4, 2020. doi:10.2307/3679294.