Trouillot on Beaubrun Ardouin

Since we try to read something relevant to Haiti at least once per month, we decided to finally read the short pamphlet on Beaubrun Ardouin by Haitian historian Hénock Trouillot. Trouillot's short study of one of the major 19th century historians of the island briefly covers his background, political career and historical writings. Due to its brevity, one looking for anything like a detailed biographical or critical study will be disappointed. Nonetheless, it's an interesting read, particularly when compared to more recent revisionist scholarship on 19th century Haiti. Trouillot doesn't dwell on what Nicholls calls the "mulatto legend" of Haitian history allegedly promoted by Ardouin. However, due to his familial background, connections, and professions of liberalism, Ardouin definitely did emphasize the role of anciens libres and was clearly an important figure in the illiberal Boyer administration. Nonetheless, Trouillot does not place too much emphasis on color per se, instead seeing the errors and problematic assertions in Ardouin's historical writings as part of his own political biases, social background, or the lack of adequate sources. We hope to revisit Ardouin's Etudes sur l'histoire d'Haïti as well as the works of Thomas Madiou in the future.

Trouillot and Vodou History

Although Introduction à une histoire du vaudou is very much an introduction and somewhat outdated, it's additional proof of the ongoing relevance of Hénock Trouillot to the study of Haitian history. Trouillot's historical approach cites some sources we are not personally familiar with on Vodou as well as offering some provocative analysis of the significance of the plantation economy, slavery, Catholicism, the Haitian Revolution, anti-Vodou laws, and the development of the lakou in shaping Vodou as we know it. Obviously, Vodou is not some fount of "pure" Africanity. Nor is it immune from transformations and new developments that require historically-grounded ethnographic research on the rise of it's particular rites, familial base, or Catholic-Vodou syncretism. 

Trouillot's study is an early exemplary model of what historians can contribute to Haitian ethnology by highlighting the likely impact of social, economic, political, and cultural changes over time that appear to have transformed Vodou from the colonial-era cult of the snake to the religion we know today with a pantheon of spirits and private, public, and secular dimensions. As an early sketch or introduction to the history of such a complex topic, Trouillot's book is worthwhile, though one cannot ignore its outdated projections and terminology (evolved versus archaic religions). Nor can one omit mention of the weak treatment of possible impact of Kongolese Catholics on Haitian Catholicism or the cursory allusion to Muslim West Africans possibly shaping the monotheistic aspects of Vodou. A further limitation is the omission of certain key texts which do shed light on Vodou in the 1800 and early 1900s, such as Mollien. Perhaps Trouillot simply lacked access to some of these sources so he heavily relies on L'Union, St. John, Mackenzie, Hill, Aubin, Price, Janvier, Firmin, Manigat, d'Alaux, Texier, and Church-affiliated figures. Nowadays, scholars have access to more robust sources that could eventually lead to a fuller history.

Perhaps more disturbing and placing himself in a long trajectory of Haitian ethnologists and even 19th century intellectuals, Trouillot also seems to equate Vodou with the forces that retard progress for the Haitian masses. He even goes so far to criticize the ethnological school for its apologetics on Haitian Vodou and rural customs which hold back the Haitian people and become a form of intellectual  masturbation. He wasn't entirely wrong, and his harsh criticism on the lack of scientific vigor or on the ground research from the ethnologists was fair. But one can see today's practitioners and scholars taking issue with the development-oriented framework of Trouillot's study. However, Trouillot saw the ineffectiveness of the UNESCO Marbial project and believed development had to come through applied anthropology that took into account local perspectives, beliefs, and conditions to support opportunities for development based on those factors. All things considered, this makes for a complex and nuanced attempt at a history of a misunderstood and often maligned religion.

Tentative French Caribbean Timeline (Focus on Saint-Domingue)

A preliminary work started for another project but something we hope to continue, like our "Tentative Timeline for Kanem-Borno" on this site. We plan to add additional events and dates for Saint-Domingue (Haiti), Guadeloupe, Martinique, and other French colonial possessions in the Antilles but we have been too distracted by our Kanem-Borno and African historical "research" lately.

-1500s-1540s: French often plundered Spanish treasure fleets (according to Gad Heuman)

-1523: Jean Fleury, French corsair, sacked Spanish fleet carrying part of Aztec treasure

-1530-1570: French pirates were main scourge of Spanish possessions

-1559: Treaty of Cateau-Cambresis (Spain and France)

-1620s: Early French occupation of western Hispaniola in 1620s

-1620s-1667: frontier era in French Antilles, tobacco was first cash crop and remained important in Saint Domingue until 1690s, boucaniers and piracy in Tortuga, western Hispaniola

-1624-1625: English and French share Saint-Christophe (Saint Kitts), the French settlement led by Pierre Belain d’Esnambuc in 1625

-1626: Cardinal Richelieu invested in plans to colonize Saint Christophe (St. Kitts)

-1635: French colonization of Martinique, Guadeloupe (but French colonization proceeded at slow pace due to significant Carib population) and some of the smaller islands of the eastern Caribbean; also the year the Compagnie des Isles de l’Amerique was founded to consolidate French interests in Caribbean

-1640: Before 1640, French colonies relied on engages (indentured laborers who usually worked 3 year contracts), then increasingly depended on slave labor

-1642 Regulation of Compagnie des Indies declared all Indians of French islands equals of whites

-c. 1650: matelotage partnerships of newly freed servants common in Saint Domingue by mid-1600s, engaging in hunting cattle, processing hides, curing meat, and trade at Tortuga

-1650-1660: French Caribbean around 19% black in 1650, but grew to 36% by 1660; important role of Dutch and Jewish settlers from Brazil in sparking commercial sugarcane production in French Caribbean in 1650s (and Barbados, English colony)

-1654-1659/1660: French wars with the Caribs in the Lesser Antilles, lasting five years

1658: Caribs slaughtered French colonists at Marie Galante

-1660: Settlement reached between French and Caribs, restricting Caribs to St. Vincent and Dominica

-1664: Formation of Compagnie des Indes Occidentales, supported by Colbert

-1665-1675: Bertrand d’Ogeron governor of Tortue (Tortuga) for most of this period, promoting settlement and development of Saint Domingue

-1666: Alexandre Olivier Exquemelin joined French Compagnie des Indes Occidentales, sailing to Tortuga

-1667-1720: Colonial Conflicts and Economic Transition in French Antilles

-1669-1670: French Company of the West Indies opens slave trade with Allada and the “Slave Coast”; Mateo Lopes, ambassador of Allada king received at the court of Louis XIV

-1670-1700: enslaved Africans in Martinique grew in numbers from 7,000 in 1670 to 15,000 while the entire French Antilles had around 30,000 slaves by 1700

-1670s: French missionaries and fur traders at Fort St. Louis (Peoria, Illinois) and later other spots on Illinois River, Mississippi River, Missouri River

-1670-1672: troubles of period in Saint Domingue due to French attempts to halt contact between Dutch traders and French colonists in the Caribbean

-1670: Foundation of Cap Francais (modern Cap-Haitien)

-1671: French Lesser Antilles has population of just under 30,000

-1672-1678: French and Dutch wars in Indies

-1680: Troubles in Cap Francais following collapse of French market for colonial tobacco and enforcement of Senegal Company’s slave trade monopoly

-1680s-1690s: French privateering important for bringing slaves to Caribbean colonies

-1685: first sugarcane plantation in French Saint Domingue; also, Louis XIV revoked Edict of Nantes, leading to some migration of Huguenots to Caribbean and North American mainland

-First sovereign council of Saint Domingue established at Petit Goave by the marquis de Seignelay

1690: French raid Spanish colony of Santo Domingo

1690s: slaves carried to French colonies by privateers in late 1600s pivotal for rise of sugar production in Saint Domingue

1691: Spanish attack Cap-Francais

-1694: St. Domingue raid on Jamaica brings 1600-2000 slaves to Saint Domingue

-1695: Anglo-Spanish attack on Saint Domingue; French evacuate Sainte-Croix largely due to governor of St. Domingue, Du Casse; most of the 460 whites, 712 slaves, 52 free colored ended up in northern Saint Domingue

-1697: Treaty of Ryswick, ceding western Hispaniola to France (officially recognized by Spain)

-1698: planters and slaves from St. Croix displaced en masse to French Saint Domingue; Compagnie de Saint-Domingue (financial/military arm of French government) formed to promote sugar; foundation of Saint-Domingue Company, founded by DuCasse and financiers Bernard, Crozat, Mayon, Thome (to promote settlement of southern Saint Domingue)

-1701-1713: War of Spanish Succession

-1703: 1,369 people, including 409 whites and 908 slaves, lived in South of Saint Domingue

-1704: Andre Deslandes, former director of French East India and Asiento Companies, arrived to be first ordonnateur and established  a Superior Council at Cap-Francais the next year

-1706-1730: large number of Indian slaves , especially Panis or Pawnee in Missouri Valley

-1710: Recall of Governor Choiseul-Beaupre from Saint Domingue

1713: By this year, Saint Domingue’s population surpassed Martinique

1713-1735: French conflict with Fox Indians, Fox attack French allies in Illinois Country and French do not finally defeat the Fox until 1735

1715-1744: Years of Peace for French Antilles

1715: French Saint Domingue had a population of 7,000 white colonists, 30,000 slaves

1715-1717: Spanish pirates captured or pillaged 20 French ships along coast of Saint Domingue

1717-1723: temporarily successful rebellions of planters in Martinique and Saint Domingue against royal authority/colonial authority (the French king appointed colonial governors and officials; intendants were in charge of civil/judicial affairs

1720-1790: Plantations, slavery, Revolutions (French, Haitian, Guadeloupe)

1720: Revocation of Saint Domingue Company’s privileges

1720s: increase in coffee plantations after 1720

1726: French near Natchez villages tied to tobacco-growing concessions, 2 large grants for tobacco made in 1726

1729: 28 Nov 1729 Natchez warriors killed 237 French, captured nearly 300 slaves and 50 white women and children

1730-1731: Natchez defeated, some 500 sold into slavery (an unknown number sold in Saint Domingue, where their chief Grand-Soleil also went)

1756-1763: British successfully attack Guadeloupe and Martinique, bringing in more slaves

1758: Mackandal conspiracy in Saint Domingue

1788: Lejeune case of Saint Domingue slaves who unsuccessfully sued their master for his torture and murder 

1791: August 1791 beginning of slave uprising in the north of Saint Domingue 

Sources 

Gibson, Carrie. Empire's Crossroads: A History of the Caribbean From Columbus to the Present Day. London: Macmillan, 2014.

Heuman, Gad J. The Caribbean: A Brief History. Second edition. London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2014.

Palmié, Stephan, and Francisco A. (Francisco Antonio) Scarano (editors). The Caribbean: A History of the Region and Its Peoples. Chicago ; London: The University of Chicago Press, 2011.

Pritchard, James S. In Search of Empire: The French in the Americas, 1670-1730. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2004.

Dimensions et limites de Jacques Roumain

Hénock Trouillot's critical study of Jacques Roumain is a fascinating analysis of the illustrious Haitian writer. Despite Trouillot's noirist sympathies, which can be detected through his persistent admiration and praise for the Griots (Duvalier, Denis, Jacob, etc.), Dimensions et limites de Jacques Roumain is a mostly fair overview of the various writings of Roumain from his youthful anti-Occupation journalism to the mature talent of his final novel. Undoubtedly, Trouillot recognized the talent and ability of Roumain and his universalist outlook. However, Roumain's abilities as a novelist, poet, and ethnologue developed over time, and remained, in some aspects, embryonic or detached from what was actually happening on the ground in Haiti during the 1930s and 1940s. With the exception of the influence of Fernand Hibbert and Frederic Marcelin on Roumain's nouvelles, and Price-Mars writing the preface to his first roman, he seems to owe far more to his European education than Haiti. 

Of course, some of Roumain's detachment was due to exile and perhaps his education in Europe, so one can see why Roumain was removed from the "Ethnological School" of Price-Mars, Denis, Duvalier, and others. Trouillot's sympathy for the Griots and explicitly indigenist Haitian authors makes him torn on the question of Roumain's adherence to indigenist and negritude literature. Roumain was too universal, and did not pursue with the requisite depth history, ethnology, and the specifically Haitian context of the racial question. And one can make the case Trouillot was correct in clearly delineating two distinct schools, one of Roumain and that of Price-Mars and the Griots in Haitian ethnology and indigénisme. 

In spite of Roumain's shortcomings, and his early death depriving us of his future endeavors in literature, ethnology or Marxism, his legacy seems the most commemorated or celebrated today. With the exception of Price-Mars, the Griots became associated with the Duvalier regime and have, at best, a checkered legacy. They have may laid the foundations for the Bureau d'Ethnologie with more careful studies and historically-grounded research than Roumain, but Roumain, the Marxist universalist who rejected Vodou, authored the timeless novel of Haiti that artfully combined his descriptive ethnographic work and "symbolic realism" with his political vision of sacrifice for the collective. Thus, even though we tend to agree with Trouillot on the weakness of Roumain as a poet, particularly in the early years, and the sometimes superficial nature of his political and ethnographic works, there is undeniably something timeless in his universalist outlook and gradual development as a novelist.

"Indiens" in Saint Domingue

Although our attention at the blog has shifted to other topics of concern, we could not resist sharing some brief sources on "Indiens" in colonial Saint-Domingue. In this case, all appear in the late 1690s or early 1700s in Leogane, in baptism and marriage registries. ANOM has digitized registries from various parishes, but these stood out to us in our past "research" on the topic of "Amerindians" in Saint-Domingue. We hope these brief entries contribute to our previous longer article on the subject.

We shall begin with Grégoire Louis, an "Indien" who married a widow, Marie Antoine, in 1696. Both spouses were "Indien" but the origin was only specified for Grégoire Louis. St. Marthe could be a reference to Santa Marta on the Colombian coast in South America. If so, Grégoire Louis may have been an enslaved captive taken during French raids on the Spanish mainland colonies. Unfortunately, this short marriage record does not include information on Grégoire Louis's occupation or possible connections in Leogane parish. One can speculate that he somehow acquired his freedom, and that some "Indien" people sought marriage partners in the same colonial ascriptive racial category.

Our next case, Louis Charles, baptized in 1705, is worth considering. Unfortunately, we are given no record of his origin or background. Despite the small chance he came from India, we shall include Louis Charles as an example of an "Amerindian" in Saint-Domingue. That he was baptized as an adult and specified as "free" tells us that Louis Charles may have been formerly enslaved beginning in his adulthood. Alternatively, he could have never been a slave. Moreover, his godparents included connected people, such as the wife of the governor, Charles Auger. His godfather's occupation as a ship captain might indicate that Louis Charles was a sailor or perhaps some other occupation that brought him into contact with connected individuals. Perhaps he was a free laborer on French ships?

Another Grégoire, but this time a mestif. Baptized in 1701, Grégoire was the child of a "white" and a "free Indian" named Michelle. Identified as a "fils naturel" in this document, we know that his parents were not married. However, his father recognized him as his child, named him after himself, and the race of his godparents was not included. Jeanne Loppez, however, might have been a native of Veracruz, Cartagena, or another Spanish colonial city in the Caribbean region. Perhaps Grégoire's mother also came to the colony from a Spanish possession. While one might think some stigma was attached to mixed-race persons of "Indian" and white origin, perhaps in Saint-Domingue during the early 1700s, "mestizos" escaped much of the discrimination associated with "mulattoes" (the indelible stain of African ancestry). Of course, the reality on the ground is always quite different from what is written on papers, legal codes, and constitutions...

Our last case will be that of another mestive of partial "Indian" origin. Like Grégoire, her father was white, but her mother, Léonarde, was a free Indian. She was their "natural" child, presumably born around 1692 or so. One wonders if her "Indian" mother may have been one of the women taken from French raids on the Yucatan or perhaps what is now Colombia? Or, perhaps, a woman from the Lesser Antilles or North American mainland brought to the island? 

Sadly, most of the sources we have attempted to use to trace "Indiens" in Saint-Domingue were not specific with their origins. Unless specifying Carib or, in the case of Asian Indians, a part of the subcontinent, one must find other ways for trying to trace the birthplace of "Amerindians" in the colony. Clearly, they were present. And the vast majority were from other parts of the Americas, ruling out any continuity from the indigenous peoples of Hispaniola (except for the Spanish part of the island). We here are wondering exactly how many Natchez, Fox, Pawnee, Caribs, and other "Indians" reached Saint Domingue?

Abu Bakr al-Siddiq and Borno?

Although our sources for Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's maternal ancestry consist solely of his short Arabic autobiographies translated into English, it is interesting to consider his life in a "Central Sudanic" context. Incorporating Borno and Katsina into his biography and family background illustrates how connected or integrated West Africa in the precolonial era truly was. Cities in the "Western Sudan" like Jenne and Timbuktu, where Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's family originated (though claiming descent from the Prophet), were closely tied to trading and learning centers such as Kong and Bouna. The ancient cities of Timbuktu and Jenne were also integrated into "Sudanic" trading routes to the east, through Hausaland and Borno all the way to the Red Sea. Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's family history exemplifies this in a variety of ways. Therefore, one can view the family of al-Siddiq in various contexts: Atlantic World, Caribbean chattel slavery, Saharan and Sahelian Africa, and Dar al-Islam. 

First, who was Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's mother? Named Naghodi in one of his autobiographies, a Hausa term meaning "I am thankful," her Islamic name was Hafsa. She was likely a later wife of his father, Kara Musa. Indeed, al-Siddiq's autobiography lists several half-siblings, indicating that his father had numerous children with at least one other woman or wife. His mother was born in the capital of Borno, presumably some time in the second half of the 18th century. However, her Hausa personal name and links to Katsina suggest Hausa heritage. In consideration of the close economic ties between Borno and Katsina, as well as the past history of Katsina as a tributary state of Kanem-Borno, we cannot rule out a Kanuri origin or affiliation for Naghodi through her father. Indeed, both Katsina and Gazargamo were major trading stops for trans-Saharan caravans coming crossing through the Fezzan and Agadez to reach the "Sudan." Migration of traders, Islamic scholars, and other groups between Katsina and Borno must have occurred on a large scale.

As for the identity of his maternal grandfather, al-Siddiq identified him as al-Hajj Muhammad Tafsir of Borno AND Katsina. His mother was an infant during the pilgrimage of her father, and the pilgrimage to Mecca would have left Naghodi and her mother in Gazargamo for an extended period of time. This makes one think her maternal grandfather may have been a native of Gazargamo and perhaps from a large household with dependents, relatives, and economic means to support his children while abroad. Moreover, the inclusion of tafsir in his name points to a scholar with a background in Quranic exegesis. Furthermore, the fact that he went on the hajj at least once would have significantly increased his standing in Borno. Indeed, those who went on the hajj were even absolved of taxes by the Sayfawa rulers of Borno. Consequently, Muhammad Tafsir must have been of means, respected in Borno and Katsina, as well as someone who benefitted from the privileges of the hajj through tax incentives that Mai Ali maintained. Even if he was a Hausa or Fulani from Katsina, performing the hajj undoubtedly aided his business or trading concerns in Borno and beyond.

So, how exactly did al-Siddiq's father, Kara Musa, meet Naghodi? According to al-Siddiq, his father traveled to Katsina and Borno frequently, likely as a trader. A man from a reputable lineage in Timbuktu and the Middle Niger was likely an attractive prospect for al-Hajj Muhammad Tafsir's daughter. Both men were probably traders, and the marriage of Naghodi to Kara Musa would have helped cement trading ties between them. One can surmise that Kara Musa was older than Naghodi and may have already possessed trade connections to Kong and sources of gold and kola nuts through his connections to Dyula trading and scholarly networks. Perhaps a marriage helped ensure honest dealings or trading partnership between Naghodi's father and Kara Musa? Evidence in favor of this can be found in al-Siddiq's allusion to his father sending gold, Egyptian silks, horses, mules, and other goods to his father-in-law. 

This may have been initially part of a dowry, but his father's past of "always" traveling to Katsina and Borno hints at trade in goods, such as gold, motivating his travels from Jenne to Kong, Ghonah, and, eventually Katsina and Gazargamo. Evidence for traders from the Fezzan, Hausaland, and Borno knowing of Kong, Bouna, Dagomba, and the "Gold Coast" can be found in other sources, but the Dyula networks of Kara Musa would have been an excellent network for Hausa and Kanuri traders from the east to tap into for opening up relations with that part of West Africa. Perhaps Kara Musa's network and access to gold (and the possibility of kola nuts) intersected with Muhammad Tafsir's connections to Borno's salt and natron exports to Hausa cities?

Our other references to Hausaland or the 'Central Sudan" in the context of Abu Siddiq are more problematic or impressionistic. John Davidson's Notes Taken During Travels in Africa reports confirmation for al-Siddiq's illustrious pedigree in Morocco and the Sahara. Other informants even claim al-Siddiq was related to the rulers of Timbuktu, Kong, and "Houssa," which must be Katsina or a generalized Hausaland. While one can surmise from the earlier autobiographical fragments that al-Siddiq came from a respectable family with roots in the ulama of Timbuktu and Jenne, the grandiose relations attributed to him may not reflect the realities of post-jihadist West Africa. For example, Borno's capital was destroyed and abandoned by the time al-Siddiq returned to West Africa via Morocco. Katsina was also in a period of decline. The Sokoto Caliphate changed the political map of the "Central Sudan" and al-Siddiq would have been in the dark for about 30 years during these momentous decades. Nevertheless, one can see that several years after his bondage in Jamaica, al-Siddiq could still believably call upon powerful and politically connected relatives in Timbuktu, Kong, and Hausaland. This illustrates just how overlapping the worlds of Islam, "Sudanic" Africa, and the Atlantic were.

Bibliography

Abú Bekr eṣ ṣiddíḳ. “Routes in North Africa, by Abú Bekr Eṣ Ṣiddíḳ.” The Journal of the Royal Geographical Society of London 6 (1836): 100–113. https://doi.org/10.2307/1797559.

Barth, Heinrich. Travels and Discoveries in North and Central Africa: Being a Journal of an Expedition Undertaken Under the Auspices of H.B.M.'s Government in the Years 1849-1855. New York: D. Appleton, 1857.

Cohen, Ronald. The Kanuri of Bornu. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1967.

Curtin, Philip D. Africa Remembered; Narratives by West Africans from the Era of the Slave Trade. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1967.

Davidson, John. Notes Taken During Travels in Africa. London: J.L. Cox and Sons, 1839.

Dewière, Rémi. Du Lac Tchad À La Mecque: Le Sultanat Du Borno Et Son Monde (XVIe - XVIIe Siècle). Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2017.

Gomez, Michael A. Black Crescent: The Experience and Legacy of African Muslims in the Americas. Cambridge ; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005.

Lovejoy, Paul E. “The Kambarin Beriberi: The Formation of a Specialized Group of Hausa Kola Traders in the Nineteenth Century.” The Journal of African History 14, no. 4 (1973): 633–51. http://www.jstor.org/stable/180905.

Lucas, Paul, Lédyard, John, Lallemant, Antoine J. (trans.), Voyages de MM. Lédyard et Lucas en Afrique, entrepris et publiés par ordre de la Société anglaise d’Afrique ; avec le plan de fondation de cette Société, et une carte du nord de l’Afrique, par le major Rennel : suivis d’extraits de Voyages faits à la rivière de Gambie, par ordre de la Compagnie anglaise d’Afrique, et d’un mémoire écrit sous le règne de Charles II, concernant la grande quantité d’or qu’on trouve près de cette rivière ; avec une carte de ce fleuve et de ses environs, tracée sur les lieux. Paris: Xhrouet, 1804.

Wilks, Ivor. The Northern Factor in Ashanti History. [Legon]: Institute of African Studies, University of Ghana, 1961.

Jesuit Letters from Saint Domingue

Due to a recent group project relying on the use of Jesuit sources from various corners of the world, we recently explored some of the order's correspondence from 18th century Saint Domingue, ably translated by C. Rivers. Based in Cap-Francais, the Jesuits established in northern Saint Domingue were active for several years (beginning in c.1704) before their expulsion. Building parishes, proselytizing among the enslaved African population, serving the poor and sick white populations, and writing to their superiors to justify their mission and the need for funding, their letters offer another perspective on French Saint Domingue. While one would like to read sources from the other religious orders active in Saint Domingue at the same time, especially the Capuchins who were in the colony previously, as well as the Dominicans in Léogâne, the Jesuit letters provide an interesting set of sources on slavery in northern Saint Domingue. The letters of Fathers Margat and Bréban, beginning in 1725 and ending in 1743, document the transformation of Saint Domingue into a slave-based plantation society. 

Fr. Margat's 1725 letter, for instance, sees the black population of the colony as the crown and glory of the Mission. By evangelizing and serving African and Creole slaves, they see the Jesuits as playing an important role in the colony. Certainly no abolitionist or modern-day anti-racist, Margat saw "Negroes" as simple, easy to convert ("little attached to their superstitions"), and reverent with regards to the sacrament of baptism. Already, in 1725, Margat hints at tensions with white planters, perhaps due to the blacks seeking the help of Jesuit priests to intercede on their behalf. Of course, like the Jesuit Relations from other corners of the world, Margat emphasized the isolation of the 18 missionaries, and their arduous work in a hostile climate (heat, tropical storms, mosquitoes, hurricanes). By 1729, Margat appears to be more exhausted and perhaps disturbed by the negative reports of the Mission's progress. For example, Margat's superior had received news of the failure of the Mission to convert the maroon or runaway slaves. He explained the failure as the result of a pointless mission to try to convert them, viewing the maroons as lawless, comparing them to highway bandits in France. Thus, Margat's letter is a testimony of the threat to colonial society posed by maroon bands, and an elucidation of the (partial) failure of the Mission to successfully convert the enslaved population. 

His 1729 letter also covered the "extinction" of the island's indigenous population. Perhaps due to the Jesuit Missions in the American mainland with native populations, Margat's superior expressed interest in possible outreach to Hispaniola's indigenes. Margat's letter explained the destruction of the indigenous population by drawing on de Las Casas, suggestive of French adherence to the "black legend" of the Spanish. Perhaps this points to the French viewing their colonial enterprise as superior to the results of the Spanish Caribbean. Of course, the Louisiana colony's settler population were about to enter into a war with the Natchez later that year, and had already engaged in brutal conflicts with the Caribs even earlier. Even more intriguing, Margat mentioned the "Indian" village of Boya in the neighboring Spanish colony. He described them as descendants of "Indian" fugitives hiding in the mountains who were discovered by hunters. The people of Boya, though unnamed as such as by Margat, were now mixed-race and Christian, but retained some of their past customs. However, due to their virtual disappearance from the island and non-existence in French Saint Domingue, Margat believed the "Negroes" were their primary focus.

Writing in 1732, Bréban's letter sheds even more light on the Jesuits and slavery in the colony. Accepting chattel slavery as the horrible cost of bringing "true religion" to Africans, Bréban condescendingly pointed out the positive and negative traits of the black population. According to him, half of the slaves were from "Guinea" and the Africans resisted their enslavement in various ways. Indeed, revolts on slaveships were not unheard of, and slave suicides were a frequent problem for the French. The fear of poisonings was real and legitimate, as the case of one slave poisoning more than 60 blacks of one of the wealthiest planters in the region demonstrates. Africans and their descendants also used song and satire to mock others, especially whites. Thus, despite their "crude nature" and the cruel laws and practices put in place against them, they constantly asserted their humanity and creativity in a variety of ways to survive. Marronage, mentioned in the letter of Margat, undoubtedly persisted. In fact, Bréban asserted that Jesuits often became intermediaries between runaway slaves and their masters.

Although he considered blacks "half-beasts" and thieves, Bréban was somewhat sympathetic to their plight. Blaming their masters and the white population as the principal obstacle to the Mission, he saw the vanity of clothing among the slaves as a flaw inherited from their masters. Moreover, they were thieves and liars because their masters did not provide the bare necessities of food and clothing. Consequently, one could not be surprised that the enslaved population was always stealing food, attire, or other items. The French were also abusing, raping, and torturing enslaved Africans, with one case going so far as an enraged Frenchman murdering nearly all of his "property." Overall, the French were an impediment to the Christian example or model behavior the Jesuits wished to impart to their charges. The excessive work schedule and lack of basic necessities forced slaves to use their little free time to cultivate their gardens in order to feed themselves, which got in the way of their attending Mass. Even free blacks were considered harsh slaveowners. And, as one could except from someone with a low opinion of Africans and having to confront a linguistic barrier, preparing slaves to receive Communion first required questioning them several times on Catholic faith.

Our final letter examined in the exercise, Margat's 1743 letter to Procurator General of the missions of the same Society in the Islands of America, is even more detailed than all the previous correspondence on the actual priests who served in the Mission. Going back to the beginnings of the Jesuits in the Caribbean, Margat connects the early Jesuit presence in Saint Domingue and the French Caribbean possessions. Much of the body consists of an overview of the various works accomplished by leading Jesuits int eh mission. Father Jean-Baptiste de Pers of Flanders received mention for his organizational talent, skill for working with blacks, and his historical notes. Fr. Olivier of Morin Parish was a defender of enslaved blacks. Fr. Boutin was perhaps the most exceptional for his piety, comprehension of African languages, and leadership in administering the "Negro" Mass. Besides their missionary work among African slaves, Margat included examples of the work of Jesuits on behalf of paupers, the sick, and groups like white sailors. Since many came to Saint Domingue seeking their fortune but few became wealthy, the Jesuits always had poor or unfortunate whites to assist in Le Cap. As one would expect for a work of its genre, Margat requested additional assistance while emphasizing the positive impact of the Jesuits.

Although we still hope to continue our reading of Jesuit sources on Saint Domingue and French "Empire" in this era, one can already see the seeds of future conflict between the Jesuits and whites in the colony. Even their mild criticism of the institution of slavery would have won friends among local planters. It would seem that their missionary work among the African captive population probably did have some degree of success, particularly with priests like Boutin willing to use Creole and learn African languages. To some extent, Haitian Catholicism probably owes more than we realize to the Jesuits in northern Saint Domingue. Just as the Catholic Kingdom of Kongo and Catholic missions to Arada in the 17th century may have likewise shaped the evolution of our faith and spiritual practices.