1691 Slave Conspiracy

Whilst checking Gallica for something unrelated to Saint Domingue, we came across more digitized items from the Collection Moreau de Saint-Méry. One document, entitled De l'introduction des nègres à Saint-Domingue de leurs révoltes, de leur traitement, etc., outlines the history of black people in Hispaniola from the early Spanish period to the early 1700s French colonial era. Reading through it, we were reminded of one conspiracy to revolt and kill the white planters in the Leogane region. Jean Fouchard has written briefly about this plot in his book on Haitian marronage, but it seems to not have been extensively documented despite allegedly including a plan for at least 200 slaves to rebel. Interestingly, around the same time, slaves in the Nord were also plotting a revolt...

Marie Pierre Haoussa of Aquin

 

IC=inconnu

One document we have been thinking about the last few days is a notarized contract from 1792. Establishing a société d'habitation de Marie Pierre Haoussa avec Louis Baronnet fils, the document is interesting for the surname of Marie Pierre: Haoussa. Although most documents in colonial Haiti spell "Hausa" as Aoussa, not Haoussa, we were nonetheless curious about Marie Pierre as a person of possible Hausa extraction. After all, colonial legislation did attempt to push free people to bear African names. Furthermore, people of African origin were sometimes known by a first name and their alleged "nation," too. 

In the case of Marie Pierre Haoussa, however, we could not trace her exact origins. It would appear that she was a free black woman owning land in Aquin, presumably i an area that may be today's la Colline à Mongons. When checking the parish registry, we did come across a Marie Pierre, black Creole, who married her "mulatto" master in 1781. But there is no indication of Marie Pierre's parents' origins in the parish books for Aquin. We were also wondering why she did not use her husband's surname, but he may not have been of legitimate birth either. Either way, Gabriel and this Marie Pierre had a number of children, he married her, and, from what we could gather, the Marie Pierre Haoussa named here could be the same woman.

In terms of her 1792 partnership with a man from Bainet, we were struck by the huge diversity in slaves both brought into their planned coffee farm. Marie Pierre was responsible for bringing 6 slaves, most apparently female. They consist of a mix of Arada, Mandingue, Thiamba, Ibo, Canga and one "nation" we could not decipher in the notary's handwriting (perhaps Aguiam?). Baronnet fils, on the other hand, was responsible for bringing in more slaves who were mostly male. Since the land was apparently held by Marie Pierre Haoussa, he may have been required to supply more of the forced labor. Either way, his enslaved workers were also very diverse in origins. One, whose "nation" looks like Guialuuka, is from a background we could not figure out. But others included Thiamba, Bibi (Ibibio), Biny (possibly Edo, for people from the kingdom of Benin), Congo, Creoles, Ibos, and a Mine. 

Naturally, we will have to conduct further searches in the notarized documents and parish registry to see if we can locate more records of Marie Pierre. But, the fact that she owned land and slaves is consistent with someone who was married to a free "mulatto" landowner for some time in the region. We suspect the "Haoussa" part of her name comes from an African-born father but have to dig deeper into the archives to prove it. 

African Ancestry Update (2025)

Although we knew Africa was not the focus of the 2025 update for Ancestry, we still thought there might be some changes. Instead, with the exception of a decrease of 1% for Senegal, our sub-Saharan African estimates are essentially the same. For our Haitian parent, nothing changed either except for a minor increase in their Benin & Togo estimate (up by 2%). They retained their minor estimates for various smaller regions while we still have a division of "Nigeria" into Central Nigeria, North-Central Nigeria and Nigeria. 

None of this is too surprising. It looks like the 2025 update is largely unchanged from the 2024 update. And as we already expected, we are more West African than Central African In fact, it would appear that our Haitian parent and I harbor substantial ancestry derived from the Slave Coast and Bight of Biafra, which is also backed by the records of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade and Saint Domingue (colonial Haiti). I personally find it intriguing that so little sub-Saharan African ancestry was passed on through the Hispanic side.

The only real change to our African ancestry was the inflated North Africa estimate of 4%. The first time we got our results, the estimate was 2%. Then, following the update, it dropped to 1%. Inexplicably, it shot up to 4% this year. While we did see an estimate of 1% Canary Islands, we doubt we have substantial :Guanche" ancestry that might explain this. It seems like the creation of new areas for Spain and the Iberian peninsula altered or created problems for other nearby regions or categories. Indeed, this might be why we suddenly see a 2% Sephardic Jewish estimate while previous updates never included that. Of course, we do have very distant Sephardic Jewish matches from the eastern Mediterranean or North Africa as well as North African Muslim matches...

Haitian African Updates

Our Haitian parent's updated results in Ancesty are essentially unchanged. Benin & Togo increased by 2% while Nigeria, Ivory Coast & Ghana, and Western Bantu Peoples each declined by 1%. They retained their minor estimates of new regions from last year (Yorubaland, North-Central Nigeria, Nigerian Woodlands). Our African ancestry through Haiti seems to largely consist of captives sold to Europeans from the Slave Coast and Bight of Biafra. 

Black and White, Unite and Fight

Whilst perusing  Moreau de Saint-Méry's compilation of laws, legal renderings, administrative decrees, etc. and came across a reference to a conspiracy by 2 black slaves and 1 white engagé to overthrow the colonial state in 1691. It involved allying with the Spanish colony in the east to distract the French troops and then the blacks would take Port-de-Paix and overrun the Nord of Saint Domingue. The  Loix et constitutions des colonies françoises de l'Amérique sous le Vent contains some details on the background of the authors of the conspiracy, which are interesting since this is one of the few recorded examples of white indentured laborers collaborating with African slaves in colonial Haiti (that we know of). According to this source, the 2 black slaves were Janot Marin and Pierrot, "owned" by different masters. Their conspiracy was also linked to a mulatto spy from the neighboring Spanish colony. The white indentured laborer, Louis Blaise of Tours, was about 16 years old and indentured to a marchand named Rouquier. Pierrot, also called Georges Dollo, was a "Senegalois" of about 18, who asserted that the chief of the conspiracy was a "Congre" (Congo?) black owned by Lamalle. 

Although it is a little difficult to determine from this brief source every part of the conspiracy, we know Blaise, Pierrot, and Marin were sentenced to death for it. Blaise, the indentured laborer, appears to have been involved in the conspiracy and was presumably drawn to collaborate with black slaves by the exploitative conditions of his contract. The black slaves, of diverse origins (Congo, Senegalois, and likely others), were politically astute and sought alliances with the Spanish colony of Santo Domingo to overthrow the French. Unfortunately for them, their conspiracy was discovered and the leaders executed. Clearly, the French authorities realized the potential dangers of interracial subaltern revolt. 

Thoughts on the Nago (Yoruba) in Haiti

 

We have been revisiting the few sources on the Nago, or "Yoruba" captives in Saint Domingue. Runaway ads or notices in the colonial newspaper have severe limitations as sources, but they nonetheless provide some details about Africans of Yoruba extraction in the colony. For instance, Adidon, mentioned in the runaway ad above, appears to have a Yoruba name. Adidon could be the Yoruba term for sweatmeats and confectionery. 

Another interesting example from the corpus of runaway slave ads in Saint-Domingue is the case of the Bambara above who spoke Nago. Considering the distance between Yorubaland and the "Bambara" lands of Upper Guinea, one assumes this unnamed "Bambara" captive learned the "Nago" tongue in Saint Domingue. 

Also intriguing is the case of a Nago runaway in 1783 named Sola, also called Ambroise. Sola is likely the Yoruba name Ṣọlá. Although it has long been known that the Nago were from Yoruba-speaking backgrounds, it is still fascinating to see examples of names from that language among Africans in Saint Domingue.

We similarly found the case of a Nago runaway from 1777, Aboky, intriguing. The name Aboky could actually be related to the Hausa word, aboki, meaning friend. If so, one wonders if Aboky actually was Hausa or from the lands north of the Yoruba-speaking peoples. It also appears that most Hausa captives trafficked to Saint Domingue in the 18th century arrived via Slave Coast ports and likely passed through Oyo and other Yoruba-speaking communities before reaching the coast. Perhaps not unrelated, modern Nigerians in the south sometimes use the word aboki in a derogatory fashion when referring to northerners.

Yet another ambiguous case of a "Nago" is the Nago-Taqua, Hector. Taqua appears to have been one of the terms used for Nupe peoples in Saint-Domingue. Was Hector of mixed ethnicity, both Nupe and Yoruba? Or was he a Nupe person who had spent time in Yorubaland before being sold on the coast to Europeans?

Yet another runaway ad alluding to a Nago with what sounds like an African name is the case of Labidan. No obvious Yoruba name comes to mind with Labidan. In fact, there was a kingdom called Labidan on the Gold Coast, an area French slave traders sometimes extended to the Slave Coast.

Our final case of one of the interesting African maroons who was said to speak Nago despite hailing from another "nation" is Medor. Supposedly Ibo, he appears to have been owned by a Rossignol of the Gonaives area. Did he learn Nago in Saint Domingue?

Last, but certainly not least, visiting ANOM's digitized parish registries for Saint-Domingue reminded us of Julien Raimond. His African grandmother, who died in 1761, was of the Nago nation. It is somewhat unclear if her name was actually Marie or Catherine (or perhaps Marie Catherine?), but she married Raimond's grandfather, Francois Begasse, in 1706. To what extent, if any, she shaped the upbringing of her grandchildren is unknown, but her status and the growing wealth of her family in Bainet and Aquin may have made her one of the wealthiest African-born women in this part of Saint Domingue.

Unveiling the Colonial System

Although it took us several years, we have finally completed Baron de Vastey's The Colonial System Unveiled. Translated into English by Chris Bongie, whose useful endnotes and supplementary essays are a rich source of information on the author and his time, the short text is a disturbing read. Largely consisting of a catalogue of various colonists who tortured black slaves and free people of color in the colonial period, the colonial system here is one defined by slavery, exploitation, terror, and racialized hierarchy. Thus, the infamous Caradeux and Desdunes families, for instance, are listed among the colonist perpetrators of unspeakable violence and horror. The first part of the short work outlines the history of European colonialism in Hispaniola, beginning with the exploitation and destruction of the indigenous population. This, followed by the colonial system defined by chattel slavery, contain the annals of colonialism's destructive impact. Throughout the text, the Baron de Vastey drew from the colonial archive, writings by French colonists, and testimony from Haitians to illustrate the true nature of colonial rule. Unsurprisingly, Haitian independence was just, necessary, and Henri Christophe himself is praised for being the required father of the Haitian "family" to guide us toward liberty and the rule of law. 

Indeed, much of the work emphasizes how colonial laws and regulations were either ignored or used in discriminatory fashions. For example, laws and regulations limiting the dress of free people of color or laws requiring them to adopt African surnames are part of the panoply of oppressive, racist laws that are unquestionably unjust. Other laws, such as those enshrined in the Code Noir for protecting enslaved people from extreme abuse or torture, were routinely ignored. Baron de Vastey even cited the case of a free "mulatto" who was reenslaved unjustly on the instigation of a cruel planter who may have been his father! Everything this colonial system stood for and represented, therefore, required full repudiation and justified Haitian independence. Under the protective leadership of a strong monarch, Henri Christophe, Haiti could withstand the calumny and threat of the colonists. Indeed, Christophe is even compared to the famous cacique, Enriquillo, suggestive of Christophe's stature as a leader on the path to reconstituting the Haitian people. 

Nevertheless, one cannot help but notice some of the ambivalence of the Haitian intellectual of the 19th century. While condemning colonialism in Haiti and the trans-Atlantic Slave Trade, our author wanted European colonialism in Africa. With Sierra Leone as perhaps the best example, Baron de Vastey appears to condone the "civilizing mission" of European colonialism as necessary in Africa. Yet, whilst drawing on the travels of Mungo Park and other sources, he acknowledged that sub-Saharan Africans were not as "barbaric" as our enemies made them out to be. Unfortunately, Baron de Vastey never drew from the testimony of the sizable African-born population in Haiti itself to counter racist narratives of Africa. It is a shame, since he even included "Bembara" as one of the African surnames free people of color were forced to adopt under racist colonial legislation. We suspect the ambivalence of the 19th century Haitian intellectual on Africa, plus the need for a nationalist, palingenesis of a new Haitian people, precluded Baron de Vastey from seriously interrogating European colonialism in Africa or the question of black African civilizations. 

Encomiendas and Indian Slavery in Puerto Rico

Eugenio Fernandez Mendez's Las encomiendas y esclavitud de los indios de Puerto Rico, 1508-1550 is a brief study of the forced labor and coercion in the first half of 16th century Borinquen. Drawing primarily from the Spanish chroniclers and sources such as those compiled in Tapia's Biblioteca de Puerto Rico, this short book focuses on the Spanish conquest and the various repartimientos and divisions of Indians into encomiendas until the final dissolution of the encomiendas. Unfortunately, by c.1550 their population was decimated and devastated by the encomiendas and outright enslavement. "Carib" and Indian slaves from Yucatan, Panuco, or Tierra Firme were still not enough to address the labor shortages and other problems facing the colony. However, the indigenous population of the island survived and went on to form part of the Puerto Rican population. Fernandez Mendez cites sources attesting to an Indian presence larger than that asserted by Rodrigo de Bastidas for the 1540s. Indeed, even after the Laws of 1542, illegal enslavement of Indians continued. These and other "free" Indians not enumerated in the 1540s undoubtedly persisted, helping to explain some of the markedly "Indian" features in Puerto Rican culture long after the demise of encomiendas. What would have made this study more valuable would have been an examination of Taino resistance to the encomiendas after the 1511 rebellion. Perhaps a deeper look at indios alzados and African slave rebels could have shed light on this other dynamic in 16th century Puerto Rico. 

Captives of Conquest

For all interested in learning about the origins of enslaved indigenous peoples in the Spanish circum-Caribbean, Woodruff Stone's Captives of Conquest: Slavery in the Early Modern Spanish Caribbean is an enlightening read. Captives of Conquest demonstrates how central Indian labor and the commodification of their very lives was to the process of Spanish colonial expansion from 1492-1550. It also highlights how the Caribbean laid the foundations for Spanish America through the role of slave raiding, slave auxiliaries, and slave trading for Spanish exploration and travel to new parts of the Americas. The often weak authority of the Spanish Crown and the evolving discourse on Indian rights, labor regimes, and "race" can be seen in the pivotal half-century or so in which hundreds of thousands of Indians were, voluntarily or involuntarily, participants in the creation of European colonialism in the western hemisphere. 

Our interest in reading this work was mainly with regard to the degree or extent foreign Indian slaves intermarried and interacted with local indigenous populations of the Caribbean and the increasingly important African population of the Greater Antilles. Citing various colonial records on the trade in Indians from Tierra Firme, Mexico, Brazil, Central America, Florida, and beyond, Woodruff Stone presents clear evidence for a vast scale of slave trading that brought more Indians to Hispaniola, Puerto Rico, Cuba, and Jamaica. Thus, despite the dwindling local indigenous population in Hispaniola or Puerto Rico, the slave trade of Indians from throughout the circum-Caribbean introduced thousands more. Their labor was essential for Spanish sugar plantations, gold mining, and domestic service, especially since African slaves were more expensive. Despite their numerical significance, high mortality rates and the lack of sufficient records (after all, many Indians were victims of illegal Spanish slave raids, including against allies of the Spanish in Venezuela), they continued to be important ever after 1542. Indeed, this proves that some of the colonial reports of Hispaniola or Puerto Rico lacking Indian populations after 1550 were partly inspired by officials eager to hide their continued enslavement of indigenous peoples. 

Drawing on pre-contact Caribbean mobility, trade, and cultural networks, Captives of Conquest establishes that the indigenes of the region had long-established connections. However, it appears that the rapid influx of thousands of foreign Indians from places as disparate as Florida and Mexico or the Yucatan and the interior of Venezuela may have further weakened Taino caciques. If local caciques, whose authority was already eroded by the repartimiento of 1514 on Hispaniola and rapid population declines and dislocations caused by the Spanish, were also losing authority because of the introduction of thousands of foreign Indians, then we are inclined to think locals had to reconceive local political and social traditions. Even if foreign Indians were slaves and locals part of an encomienda system, in practice the distinction between a free and an enslaved Indian might not have meant much. Thus, we are inclined to think foreign Indians who survived may have joined local Indian communities and helped create new identities. Evidence of this can be seen in Yucatecan and Taino marriages in colonial Cuba. According to Captives of Conquest, some of these populations also intermarried with Africans, thereby adding more cultural diversity. 

Our guess is that Puerto Rico experienced something similar as local Indians intermarried or formed new communities with those from the Lesser Antilles, the Bahamas, Yucatan, and Tierra Firme. Perhaps this may explain why the cacique of Mona, for instance, was a native of Tierra Firme living in San German during the 1590s. If non-local Indians could rise to positions of authority, and the Taino were always mobile and engaged in long-distance trade, perhaps foreign Indians were more assimilable than we can detect from the Spanish accounts. Thus, perhaps the enslaved Indians enumerated in the de Lando census of 1530, who already outnumbered "free" Indians in Puerto Rico, may have included people who adopted local Indian practices or joined their communities. Or later did so, possibly contributing to the maintenance of Indian communities and practices that were later adopted by all the free peasantry of the island.

Siosta or Siota

The mother of Marie Pichot, the wife of Jean Baptiste Gaury, was a former slave named Nanette. She died a few years before her daughter with Jacques Pichot married Jean Baptiste. Her former master, a man with the surname Siota, apparently freed her. Intriguingly, her daughter would later use the surname of Siota. Using ANOM's Leogane parish records, we found that the man who likely owned Nanette died in 1746. He was from the diocese of Comminges in France and went by the name Jean Siosta.

Apparently Jean Siota may have left behind "mixed-race" progeny, too. In 1748, a Marie Francoise Siota died. She was the child of a Bastienne Siota, a free "mulatto woman" and likely the daughter of Jean Siosta. Is it possible Nanette was also the mother of Bastienne Siota? Or was she freed for another reason by Jean Siosta? It would also be great to uncover where Nanette came from and why her daughter later dropped the Pichot surname. 

Saugrain in Martinique and Haiti

Saugrain and Faste were the parents of Alexis, Charles, and their brother, Francois. ANOM's Leogane records are priceless for trying to track down some of the later Bainet and Jacmel residents.

So it turns out that Alexis Saugrain, born in c.1696, in Saint-Domingue, was actually the son of parents from Martinique and Saint-Christophe. According to the 1694 Leogane parish register, Alexis's parents were married in that year. His father, whose parents were from Caux and Rouen, was probably born in Martinique or perhaps his family moved there relatively soon after his birth. It is interesting to note that the mother of Francois Saugrain was named Marguerite Tremonie in Martinique, but Tresorier in Saint-Domingue. Her name also changed to Magdelaine in Saint-Domingue, perhaps through errors of the parish priests in Leogane and Jacmel? Francois Saugrain was illiterate and couldn't have corrected them. Perhaps Marguerite Tremonie is the most likely candidate for his mother's name.

Thanks to ANOM, we know that a sister of Francois Saugrain died in Case-Pilote in 1727, around 80 years old. If accurate, she was probably born in the late 1740s or early 1750s. Another source, Personnes et familles à la Martinique au XVIIe siècle: d'après recensements et terrier nominatifs includes a roll or census from1680, suggests Jeanne Sogrin (Saugrin) was born in 1655.

From what I could gather from Martinique rolls, censuses and other documents, one of Francois's sisters was born in or around 1655. One document from 1671 also mentions the Saugrin, indicating they were definitely established in the Case-Pilote area of Martinique by 1671. I cannot tell if Francois Saugrain's sisters were born on the island, but I suspect he was. Like the Marin who married the first Marillac in Jacmel, Francois Saugrain appears to have been another example of a Martinique Creole who relocated to Saint Domingue. And like other early French colonists in the Antilles, the Saugrain were from Normandie. We wonder if their descendants in Martinique know that they have black Haitian cousins through Alexis Saugrain and Suzanne?

In 1682, a cousin of Alexis Saugrain was baptized in Martinique.

In addition to Martinique, Alexis Saugrain could also claim origins in Saint-Christophe, the other old French colony in the Caribbean. His mother, Barbe Faste, was a native of that island who, like many others, ended up in Saint Domingue in the late 1600s. I could not find any trace of her mother, Jeanne Gourdel, unfortunately. Her father, Guillaume Faste, may have been the Guillaume Foster listed in a 1671 census shared by the good people of Généalogie et Histoire de la Caraïbe. This is just a theory, but Faste and Foster could sound similar to a Francophone person. Besides, there was no other Guillaume with a surname similar to Faste. Perhaps the Foster surname is an indication of English origin, unsurprising in Saint-Christophe. At least we have a better idea of the origins of Alexis Saugrain in terms of the longer history of French colonialism and slavery in the Antilles. It is a long, sordid history and insidious legacy which still affects Haiti, Martinique, and Saint Kitts. 

Saugrain Habitation in Bainet, c. 1720

The Saugrain habitation in early 18th century Bainet is actually one of the indigoteries for which we have some data on its enslaved workforce. Much of our interest in the Saugrain comes from Alexis Saugrain, the son of Francois Saugrain and a woman named Barbe. Alexis, Charles, and Francois were the sons of these two and all three appear to have been born in Saint-Domingue (in Grand-Goave). Their father, who remarried a few years before his demise, expired in 1719. Their father was presumably from Normandy, as the Jacmel parish registers indicate in his marriage to a Marguerite Francq. The parents of Alexis and his brothers appear in the 1735 testament of Francois Saugrain, naming Alexis as his heir. Charles Saugrain also gave some of his property (including 3 slaves) to Alexis in that same year...

Alexis Saugrain's brother's testament from 1735 names their parents. Yes, I know...3 different generations of men named Francois Saugrain. Alexis had a brother named Francois, father called Francois, and a grandfather named Francois...

In 1720, the property of the Saugrain habitation was listed and can be found on among the Saint-Domingue Notariat from Jacmel in the 1720s. Luckily, FamilySearch's website included it among their limited Saint-Domingue Notariat records. We have produced a crude table illustrating the enslaved population by its "national" origins. The Creole predominance this early in a Bainet plantation is a little striking.

Nation		Quantity
Arada		5
Creole		20
Senegalois		1
Minne (Mine)		4
Nago		1
Mamou		3
Mondongue		1
Loango		1
Samba?		1
Adouri?		1
Jouda		1
Oueda		1

From 1703, when the Saugrain household only included 8 slaves in the census, their habitation increased to 40 enslaved laborers by 1720. Half of their human "property" consisted of Creoles, mostly children and born in the colony. Suzanne, the woman we suspect to be the same slave of the Saugrain who gave birth to a daughter who married a Gory in 1738, was the only Creole born outside of Saint-Domingue. The other notable feature of the data is the weak presence of Central Africans. The ubiquitous "Congos" are only represented by 2 Central Africans, 1 Mondongue and 1 person who probably came from or via Loango. The Senegalois presence is also limited, despite the Senegambia region probably providing a more sizable portion of Saint-Domingue's slave population than in later decades.

Thanks to ANOM, we know Francois Saugrain married a Marguerite Francq in 1717, whose father was from Jamaica. Baptisms recorded for other children of Jean Francq refer to him as a slave of Francois Saugrain...

In this sample, clearly the Slave Coast and Gold Coast were the major sources of Africans. The Minne or Mine represented 10 percent of the total. If one combines Arada, Jouda, Nago, and Oueda, then 20 percent came via the Slave Coast. Allada, once the dominant kingdom in today's Benin, claimed suzerainty over Ouidah during the period before 1720 and powerful Oyo to the north also contributed to the provision of captives through its slave trade. Of the African-born population on the plantation, 40 percent appear to have been from the Slave Coast. If the identification of the ambiguous "nations" could be confidently asserted, then the Slave Coast proportion might have been even higher. Unfortunately, we have no idea what to make of the Mamou, Samba (?) and the other unknown nation. Google searching brings up a Mamou in Guinea, which probably isn't what we are looking for. The other 2 are unknown to us and Debien has not provided any clues. It is interesting to note that none of the adult males were Creoles. Supposedly the Saugrain did own an adult Creole a few years before 1720, a native of Jamaica named Jean Francq. But he must have been freed since his children were freed by the Saugrain. 

We cannot decipher the "nation" or ethnic background of Andre.

Naturally, we cannot ascertain how representative the Saugrain habitation was for Bainet or Jacmel in the 1720s. Indigo plantations must have differed from other types, and we know the Compagnie de Saint-Domingue was still the main (legal) source of slaves. Perhaps smuggling (such as a slave from Jamaica and a slave from Curacao) provided much of the laborers? We would have to find inventories, deeds, and testaments for other parts of Bainet or Jacmel for a more representative sample of Bainet's African population in the early 1700s. Yet it is still interesting to know what one early Bainet plantation looked like and the world one of our (probable) enslaved ancestors experienced. 

Suzanne Libre of Curacao

At least Suzanne, an enslaved woman of the Saugrain, was eventually emancipated. According to our tentative family tree of the Gory and Marillac in Bainet and Jacmel, Suzanne was the mother of daughters who married a Gory and a Marillac. It looks like another of her children with Alexis Saugrain married a Barreau in 1738. Suzanne and Alexis Saugrain's name appeared on the 2 marriage contracts found in the Notariat of Saint-Domingue for Jacmel, available on FamilySearch. 

Apparently we were wrong about the parents of Alexis, Charles, and Francois (fils) Saugrain. Their father was the one who seems to have been the child of a Francois Saugrain of Normandie. Alexis and his brothers were probably born in Saint-Domingue (Grand Goave or Leogane) to Francois Saugrain and a woman named Barbe (surname indecipherable). The testaments of the brothers of Alexis Saugrain from the 1730s identify their parents and can be found in 1730s testaments in Jacmel.

Suzanne's origins are somewhat clearer now, too. According to notarized documents from the early 1720s involving Alexis and Francois Saugrain, Suzanne was around 30 years old and perhaps the most valuable enslaved woman of the Saugrain. Apparently she was a Creole of Curacao and not born in Africa. Although it is difficult to decipher the word after her name, perhaps she was a ménagère and therefore easily accessible to Alexis Saugrain's attention. 

All we know is that she was at some point freed and her children were recognized by Alexis Saugrain, who was "kind" enough to gift an enslaved child and a horse to his daughter who married a Gory in 1738. Interestingly, she gave birth to a pair of the twins and her daughter who married a Gory also had twins. 

In short, our theory of Suzanne as a common ancestor of several Gory and Marillac was correct, as well as the Alexis Saugrain link. We were incorrect about Alexis Saugrain's parents, but right about Louis Gory and Marie being the parents of the two Gory brothers Jean Baptiste and Francois. Now we need to somehow find documents clarifying the origins of Louis Gory and Marie in the Saint Domingue Notariat. Sadly, FamilySearch does not possess all of the required documents necessary for such an undertaking. But it would be interesting to uncover the origins of the first Gory in Bainet. 

All Roads Lead to Susanne

The Marie Saugrain baptized in 1718 died in 1756. She was married to a Barreau.

After reviewing the ANOM documents in my attempt to reconstruct the origins of the Gory family in colonial Bainet, I realize that I have likely made a mistake. I failed to identify an enslaved woman of the Saugrains as the most likely mother of the Marie Françoise Saugrain who married François Gory. I initially thought the Marie Françoise who married Gory was the one baptized in 1718, an illegitimate child of Alexis Saugrain and an unnamed enslaved mother. It actually looks like Marie Françoise was the daughter of Suzanne and an unnamed father, presumably another Saugrain (Louis or Alexis?). 

In 1781, Marie Françoise Saugrain died. Aged around 60, she was probably the child of Susanne.

Thus, Marie Françoise was born in 1721 and was the sister of the mixed-race Saugrain mother of Jean Baptiste Marillac, Marie Barbe. This actually explains why Jean Baptiste Marillac's godmother was Marie Françoise Saugrain of Bainet. Basically, several of the Gory children of Marie Françoise Saugrain were actually cousins of Jean Baptiste Marillac. Of course, this means that Jean-Baptiste Marillac was actually related to Anne Marie Joseph Gory, his godchild, through Susanne.

The Marie Françoise who later married was François Gory was baptized in 1721. What makes things even more confusing is the appearance of another Marie Françoise, baptized in 1722, whose enslaved mother, Marguerite Susanne, was owned by the Saugrain.

As for the Marie Saugrain born in 1718, she married a Jean François Barreau. It is difficult to say if Suzanne was also the mother of Marie, but it is possible. A child born to Suzanne later in the 1720s had Jean François Barreau and a Marie as godparents, perhaps the very same Marie Saugrain, daughter of Alexis and Suzanne? And it looks like all her children went on to use the Saugrain name, or later changed it to Sougrain. So the white fathers eventually recognized their children or at least acted as godparents, as Alexis Saugrain did for a child of Marie Françoise.

In 1725, the twin daughters of Susanne were baptized. One of them, Marie Barbe, was actually the mother of Jean Baptiste Marillac, the godfather of Anne Marie Joseph.

Unfortunately, our poor Suzanne appears to have remained in bondage to the white Saugrains. I could not find any trace of Suzanne or indication of her origins. It is possible she was the young "Negress" slave of the Saugrain mentioned in the 1703 census for the Jacmel quarter and its dependencies. Or, perhaps, she was one of the adult enslaved women of the Saugrain indigoterie. However, knowing her as the progenitor of many of the Gory helps explain Victoire Susanne Monteise's name. Her mother or godmother may have named her after their enslaved ancestor, Susanne. So at least they remembered her in a fashion. 

Jean Baptiste Marillac's godmother was Marie Françoise Saugrain of Baynet, and probably the sister of his mother, Marie Barbe, daughter of Susanne.

It would have been interesting to find out where Suzanne came from or what African "nation" she represented, but for all I know she could have been born in the colony. In fact, if she was the young female slave child listed in the 1703 census, she possibly grew up with the Saugrain. Since we have yet to find any record of what happened to her after the 1720s, we are left in the dark about her origins or fate. 

Saugrain Connections

The Saugrain were counted in the 1703 Census, here transcribed by De Ville. Their three children may have been Francois, Alexis (died in 1744), and Charles.

One family name that consistently appears in the archive is Saugrain. Apparently derived from the word for a grain of salt, the white Saugrain of Bainet and Jacmel were from Normandy, like that well-known family of booksellers and printers. Unlike the perhaps distantly related family that converted to Catholicism and moved to Paris, the Saugrain of Saint-Domingue were planters. According to the 1703 census, they managed a small indigo plantation with only about 8 slaves. Perhaps the heads of the household in 1703 were a François Saugrain and his wife, Magdelaine Trésorier, both from Normandy (the latter from Rouen). 

In 1717, a François Saugrain married Marguerite Francq. According to this document, Saugrain's parents were François Saugrain and Magdelaine Trésorier of Normandie.

Early on in the records of Bainet and Jacmel, mixed-race Saugrain appear. One was Marie Françoise, the daughter of an Alexis Saugrain, baptized in 1718 with Charles Saugrain as her godfather. Marie Françoise's mother was not named, but her grandfather (François Saugrain) freed her. Another one, baptized in 1723, was Louise, the daughter of Susanne (a black slave) and Louis Saugrain. These mixed-race Saugrain went on to marry or produce children with other free people of color in Bainet and Jacmel throughout the 18th century. 

In 1719, François Saugrain died in Bainet. We assume this was the François Saugrain from Normandie.

Our connection to the Saugrain is through the Gory. Beresfort François's mother, Anne Marie Joseph Gaury (or Gory), was born in 1793. Her mother was only named as a Victoire Gory, but an examination of the other Gory in 18th century Bainet suggests she was a descendant of Marie Françoise Saugrain. Where things get confusing is the appearance of a second Marie Françoise Saugrain in 1721, daughter of Susanne. Which one was the ancestor of Anne Marie Joseph? The Bainet one born in the 1710s appears more likely because of her documentary trail consisting entirely of Bainet parish records and close connections to other Bainet-based Gory with the same Saugrain origins (to Alexis?).

Alexis Saugrain, the father of Marie Françoise, died in 1744. His age range makes it likely he was one of the children counted in the census from 1703.

Marie Françoise Saugrain married François Gory (presumably the brother of Jean-Baptiste Gory, son of Louis Gory) and had multiple children, including Françoise, François, Marie Victoire, Marie Louise and Marie Françoise. Their daughter, Marie Françoise, married a François Monteise from Clermont-Ferrand in 1759 and later went on to have Victoire Susanne. This Victoire Susanne was probably the mother of Anne Marie Joseph Gaury, although more documents would be nice to confirm it.

Marie Françoise Saugrain passed away in 1781, about 20 years after François Gory. Note that Jean-Baptiste Marillac, who was baptized in Jacmel in 1729, served as a witness. He was also a godfather of Anne Marie Joseph in 1793. 

If we are correct about the Saugrain ancestry of Beresfort François, it would also be interesting if our theory about Leopold François's wife was correct. If so, then she too had Saugrain ancestry from the marriage of Jean Pierre Cangé to a Marie Louise Saugrain in 1783, the daughter of a Louis Saugrain and a Marillac. Their union went on to produce Jean Charles Celin Cangé in 1788, the man we theorized could have been the father of Jean Michel Cangé. 

A Cangé-Saugrain marriage was something to be expected in the 1700s. It seems that, over the course of the 18th century, free people of color were less likely to marry whites (due to increasing discrimination?) and of course few of them formed formal unions with enslaved people. 

If our theory about the origins of Leopold François's wife is correct, then she was actually a cousin of Leopold. It would not surprise me in the least, and in fact might explain how their families knew of each other. After all, Jean-Baptiste Marillac knew Anne Marie Joseph and was presumably related to the mother of the Louise who married Jean-Pierre Cangé. Alternatively, Leopold could have met his wife through the small world that was 19th century Bainet. But the idea of both Leopold and Marie-Thérèse sharing Saugrain ancestry is not too surprising. It is a perfect illustration of the pattern of marriages between distant cousins in small towns or rural areas.

The Kingdom of Allada

Robin Law's short history of the kingdom of Allada was a little disappointing. We were hoping for a study of the scope of his other monographs with rich analysis of the kingdom of Allada. Unfortunately, our existing sources are thinner than we realized, often mainly relevant to Allada's active involvement in slave trading and only hints at other aspects of the state's administrative, economic, political, social, or cultural dimensions. Furthermore, as Law convincingly demonstrates, the surviving oral traditions are often problematic and present a number of problems since they have lost the institutional framework of the old kingdom's court and the traditions of Allada and Dahomey have changed over time to express new or different genealogies, historical events, or composite characters. 

It is clear that Allada was probably the dominant kingdom of the Slave Coast (or at least a good chunk of it) but its own origins remain unclear (although it was in existence by the 16th century if not long before) and the exact nature of Allada's authority over its "fidalgos" and vassal provinces or territories is unknown. However, as Law suggests, there does seem to have been more than a little continuity in the court and structure of the state from Allada to Dahomey. That continuity plus the pieces of the puzzle Law endeavors to place in correct order with the aid of European contemporary sources and later traditions, provides the reader with some idea of the chronology of kings, the institutions of the kingdom, and the impact of slave trading on the kingdom's relations economy and foreign relations. Due to our unfamiliarity with the historiography of the Slave Coast, we were surprised how often Law disagreed or felt a need to add nuance to arguments by Akinjogbin, whose study of Dahomey seems to be quite seminal. We feel Law was probably correct about the qualifications he attached to Akinjogbin's interpretations of the impact of the slave trade as a factor in Allada's decline.

Unfortunately, this brief history is a bit too schematic and we wonder if more recent scholarship has uncovered new sources or attempted to integrate more fully studies on the 'Arada" or "Arara" in the Americas. There is a recently published study coauthored by Law on early Allada-Portugal relations, suggestive of important links between Christianity (or interest in it) as a way to strengthen Allada's economic ties to European traders. Perhaps the possible or alleged Christian presence in Allada could also be of interest, with at least one king being educated by the Portuguese in Sao Tome and Allada's ambassador to the court of Louis XIV being fluent in Portuguese and, at least nominally Christian. Who knows, maybe Latin Americanists and Caribbeanists examining so-called "Arada" or "Arara" captives in the Americas could potentially shed light on social, ethnic, religious, or political dynamics impacting Allada and its neighbors in the 1600s and 1700s. Law uses some of this material, particularly the work of Alonso de Sandoval but we are convinced more material might be available.