Black Crown & Henri Christophe

Paul Clammer's Black Crown: Henry Christophe, the Haitian Revolution and the Caribbean's Forgotten Kingdom is a meticulously researched biography of one of the central figures in the annals of the Haitian Revolution and 19th century Haiti. Based on a mixture of all available sources, Clammer, who has written travel literature on Haiti, has consulted archives, visited the sites associated with Christophe's state, and used European, Haitian, and US sources to reconstruct the life of Christophe. As one might expect, his early origins in Grenada remain shrouded in mystery. Even his participation in the struggle for US independence remains a mystery. However, Christophe, once in Le Cap, was able to establish himself and build connections. During the Haitian Revolution, he rose to positions of ever greater importance until he became one of the upper echelon of military officials under Toussaint Louverture. Joining with Dessalines, he fought for Haitian independence against Leclerc and Rochambeau. Clammer, based on surviving correspondence of Christophe and other sources, favors the argument that Christophe was not directly involved in the assassination of Dessalines, and once the deed was done, was positioning himself strategically. The conflict with Petion and the South subsequently divided Haiti into two separate states, with Christophe as the essentially uncontested leader in the Nord. By the time he declared himself king, Christophe had neutralized potential competitors (even doing so during the Haitian Revolution against maroon leader Sans Souci and others).

The most interesting chapters of the biography cover the reign of Christophe as king. Ruling the Kingdom of Haiti, Christophe sponsored the construction of beautiful palaces like Sans Souci, promoted plantation agriculture, instituted legal codes that at least, in theory, guaranteed certain rights for cultivators, and engaged in all the theatricality of power and magnificence to present an image of Haiti as a civilized land making progress for Western audiences. Clammer's deftly written and detailed accounts of Christophe's diplomatic engagements with Britain and Europe on the one hand, and the struggles he engaged with against his own subjects and the republic to the South, make for engaging and fascinating reading. Unfortunately, the surviving source are not as rich as one would like for understanding a more complete portrait of the kingdom. Surviving ledgers give tantalizing clues about sugar and coffee production, with the state-enforced plantation system falling behind on sugar. Indeed, near the end of his reign, Christophe began distributing land to soldiers, perhaps as many as 8000 in one letter cited by Clammer. However, the vast majority of the land grants were for tiny farms, although Christophe did appear to have engaged in broadening land ownership and creating more titled nobles. Sadly, Christophe was unable to suppress a revolt that began in Saint-Marc and was supported by Jean-Pierre Richard, an African-born leader of Cap Henry who had been imprisoned by Christophe at the Citadel and forced to do hard labor. 

Since his stroke appears to have inspired malcontents and rebels to take action, and once loyal subordinates chose to do nothing or join in the rebellion, Christophe knew his end was near. The black king who sought to create a strong nation, was overthrown. The North was reunified with the rest of the country and Haiti as we know was consolidated. The Christophe experiment, however, represented the last of the revolutionary era leadership who were at least somewhat successful at maintaining export-oriented plantation agriculture. Christophe's state, which sparked resistance from local cultivators (though his frequent tours of the countryside and audiences suggests he must have at least occasionally ensured the Code Henry's protections for workers were respected), represented another path for national development. More successful than the southern republic, at least for a short while, the Christophean experiment offers us a view of what Haiti could have become had Christophe been able to balance the desires of the rural majority and perhaps had not treated some of his own subordinates so harshly or capriciously. 

Autobiographie of Madiou

Although our initial interest in Thomas Madiou's Autobiographie was due to a rather obscure topic related to his genealogy, we are glad to have finally read the full text. His Histoire d'Haiti series is something we have of course tackled, but find it difficult to fully read in PDF form (one day, perhaps, we shall purchase the whole series). His Autobiographie supplements his historical writing with personal details and accounts of his life, serving in various governments from Boyer to Domingue. Unfortunately, the book ends with letters to his son on the rise of Salomon. The editors also omitted some of the familial details of the early section and in the letters to Madiou's son in France. Those minor issues aside, the Autobiographie covers years his Histoire series does not. They also, despite Madiou's own biases, offer an insider perspective to the world of the 19th century Haitian statesman and intellectual. One may disagree with his interpretations and dislike his biases which reflect his own elite background and connections, but Madiou remains an indispensable source.

After reading Madiou's autobiography, one cannot help but feel somewhat depressed. More than a century after Madiou's death, Haiti remains trapped in the same cycles of political turmoil, corruption, unconstitutional rulers, crises over succession, and a brutal, morally repugnant oligarchy eagerly aided by certain malefactors or international interests. Even in Madiou's time, Haitian rulers often acted arbitrarily and would violate constitutions to serve their own interests. For example, Madiou had to intervene to stop Michel Domingue from executing one man without charge or trial, which raised the ugly issue of the color question since the man Madiou intervened to save was a "mulatto." In another even more disturbing case, involving an order calling for the execution of a group suspected of cannibalism in Petit-Harpon, Madiou similarly intervened to ensure the peasant leader was properly charge. Madiou also mentioned numerous instances of Haitian presidents ruling arbitrarily or the general corruption and lack of morals among the political class. The continual in-fighting of different cliques and factions among those holding political power could remove some of the most progressive forces in Haiti, too. The sad case of Francisque in the Soulouque administration exemplifies this, as Delva turned the emperor against a bright noir. 

Indeed, if Madiou is reliable, governments like that of Soulouque reflected serious moral or ethical decline among those holding political office. As the elites who were supposed to model proper morality and prepare the path for the illiterate Haitian masses to become "civilized" or Westernized, they utterly failed to escape the legacy of the colonial masters or Guinean (African) despotism. Perhaps due to his own French education and perceptions of African backwardness, progress for Haiti could come through Europe and people of mixed-race origins who were more likely to possess a Western education and outlook than the Haitian peasantry. Vodou, allegedly linked to (rare) cannibalistic rituals and backwards African customs, was an additional impediment to Haitian development. Madiou discussed it in a similar light in his other published work, almost repeating verbatim his past arguments about the lack of proper social groups in a country which lacked cohesion. Somehow we are supposed to believe the Haitian even lacks the sense of family, perpetually reproducing the negative models of Saint Domingue and Africa. Madiou's own biases and class background were perhaps too strong for him to have developed a more nuanced view of the Haitian lower classes. Nonetheless, he correctly identified them as the victims of a rapacious oligarchy that exploited the nation. The Haitian peasant was the sole productive member of Haitian society, they just required proper guidance and a constitution aligned with the moeurs and development of the society. 

Unfortunately, the legacy of caste and racial divisions persisted across the 19th century as noirs and so-called mulattoes, according to Madiou, clashed. After 1843, the separation of the two "castes" allegedly became more severe as "mulattoes" began to abandon their estates and focused more on urban-based sources of wealth and status. For someone like Madiou, assuming he really did believe the Western-educated Haitian jaunes represented a civilizing vector, this intractable legacy of caste and the exploitation of it by certain noirs must have been another factor in his bitterness or pessimism. Madiou seems even more blunt about the reality of caste in Haiti here than in the Histoire. While is does not explain every conflict in Haitian social or political history, there is no doubt it was an ever-salient factor. Indeed, if Madiou is to be trusted, it could become a matter of life and death. The role of class, naturally, informs this. The difference between piquets and cacos, for instance, could be partly seen through the class origins of those leading them. The urban working class support for Salnave likewise shows the complexity of social class and color. Yet Madiou's insistence on color as a factor cannot be dismissed since he, unlike Nicholls, actually lived in 19th century Haiti.

Through it all, Madiou himself suffered throughout the periodic crises and sequestrations of goods belonging to statesmen or ex-ministers whose governments were overthrown. In spite of this,, he continued to serve in various administrations and, according to his autobiography, sought to resist the Catholic Church's violations of the Concordat while promoting education across the country. Perhaps Madiou's standing, family connections, and reputation made him attractive to every Haitian head of state who could recognize talent, albeit one they sometimes abused or, after revolutions and coups, threatened or exiled. His talents as a diplomat for Haiti in Europe appear to have played a major role in assuaging tensions with Spain during the War of Restoration in the Dominican Republic. He appears to have been a dedicated statesman invariably interested in serving a nation that repeatedly disappointed him. Sadly, some of his worst predictions have come true. He foresaw the eventual US Occupation as well as the fragmentation or collapse of the state. The numerous transitional governments, squabbling coalitions, appointed/selected presidents and inability to build consensus are still here. The uncertainty of Nissage Saget actually stepping down when his term came to an end brings to mind Moise. The assassination of Septimus Rameau, of course, reminds one of Moise. Regrettably, not much has changed since Madiou's time...except it's even worse today.