Studies in the History of Kano

Studies in the History of Kano is a noble endeavor. Bringing together a variety of specialists on the history of Kano from the precolonial era to the present, the various essays cover a plethora of important topics. Modern urban laborers and the transition to semi-industrial capitalism in colonial and postcolonial Kano, for instance, receives a chapter. Much of the book, of course, focuses on precolonial Kano with some suggestive theories and interpretations of the Kano Chronicle and the pre-jihad polity. We are not yet sure what to make of some of their theories, but it undoubtedly revealed the problem of relying too heavily on the Chronicle as the main source for reconstituting early Kano or Hausa history. 

Despite the problems of authorship, chronology, and omissions in the Chronicle, it remains indispensable and one of the most important sources for Kano and Hausa history today. Smith and Last offer their own differing analyses of the Chronicle and Last's overview of Kano from ca.1450-1800 is a useful attempt at reconstructing the successive "dynasties" that ruled the city and the political factions which shaped the polity. However, perhaps some of their notions of "Berber" or Arab origins for certain rulers of Kano and Katsina are remnants of outdated thinking. 

Other essays focus on markets, trade, production, and how exactly Kano became the "emporium" of the Sudan in the 19th century. Shea's contribution particularly stands out as it raises more questions about the nature of production, crafts, and innovation. One cannot help but feel that archaeologists and historians have a lot more work to do to in this region. Like the case of Barkindo's essay on Kano's gates or Zahradeen's chapter on mosques, much remains unknown and will require new textual sources and archaeological excavation to gain new insights or data. It might also have been useful to include a chapter on Kano's relationship with Borno, outlining the relationship more clearly with analysis of the role of migration, military ventures, Islamic scholarship, and trade that brought Kanawa Hausa into close contact with the Kanuri to the east.

Alexandre of the Valley

 Another problem for our interests in Bainet genealogical research is the rather large Alexandre family. Our great-great-great-grandmother, Cherilise Alexandre, probably born in the late 1820s or early 1830s, was a native of Bainet's valley section. Since the Bainet 19th century civil records are missing several years, we could not find any record of her birth. However, we know that in 1825, a Desiré Alexandre was the godfather to a son of Jean Charles Cangé. Cherilise Alexandre had at least 2 or 3 children with a Jean Michel Cangé, so we wondered if Jean Michel was a son of Jean Charles Cangé and perhaps Desiré was the father of Cherilise? 

Unfortunately, we could not find any more information on this Desiré Alexandre. There was one person with that name who lived in nearby Jacmel, where the birth of his son was recorded in 1849 (record accessible thanks to Family Search). Described as living by the Grande Riviere of Jacmel, rather far from the valley of Bainet, we find it unlikely he was the same person we are looking for in 1820s Bainet. However, he was around the right age to have been the father of Cherilise: born in or around 1791. Moreover, he produced a Francois Pierre as a witness, albeit one too young to have been our Francois Pierre, only 29 years old.

Since the years covering Cherilise's birth appear to be lost, we did check for other Alexandres in Bainet. In fact, one of them registered the birth of his son in the 1850s, and a Cherilis Alexandre appears in the document as a witness. We assume this Cherilis Alexandre was somehow related to ours. And the father of the child, Saint Firmin Alexandre was perhaps also related to our Cherilise. Sadly, we lack adequate documents to confirm. However, it might be safe to many or most assume the Alexandre in the valley were related, perhaps descendants of Desiré. We also found a number of Alexandre related to us or other Bainet families related to us. 

Our Louis?

We are still trying to uncover the origins of Louis Gory of Bainet, the first Gory. We think his sons were born in the late 1710s or early 1720s, so it is possible that this Louis above, a quarteron libre born in 1699, could have been their father. Our evidence is slim, but it is interesting to note that the godmother of this Leogane-born Louis was a Montard. The Montard, spelled as Montar, were also in Bainet by the 1720s and 1730s. Indeed, in Bainet was a Louis Montar living in Baynet in the 1720s who fathered children with a free black woman. Perhaps this Louis, whose father was not named, was the same Louis Gory or Gorry (also spelled Gaury) who was identified in the Bainet parish registries in the 1720s-1740s? He was a "quarteron" instead of a "mulatto" but we have already seen how flexible those terms were. Unfortunately, if his son Jean Baptiste really was born in or around 1711, this Louis would have been too young to have been his father. Of course, by 1791 there were few people around who would have known Jean Baptiste's actual age when he died. It is more likely that he was born in the late 1710s or early 1720s, around the same time as his brother, Francois. Perhaps a young Louis and Marie sired them when they were in their late teens or early 20s. Either way, we need more proof and identifying this Louis's godfather might point us in the right direction. Who was Guy L'Eroudelle?

Another Victoire

Somehow we neglected to mention the existence of another Victoire related to the Gory of 18th century Bainet. A quick persual of ANOM's Baynet parish registries clarified the matter, somewhat. In addition to Victoire Suzanne Monteise and her godmother, Marie Victoire Gory, there was a Marie Victoire Pitiot (incorrectly written as Pichot by the parish priest). Baptized in 1765, this Marie Victoire could also have been the mother of Anne Marie Joseph Gaury. Again, like Victoire Suzanne, there is a problem of why her name was recorded as Gory by the parish priest but that could have been an error on his part, just like the parish priest who wrote Pichot instead of Pitiot. We know Marie Victoire Gory was married to Michel Pitiot and thus the mother of Marie Victoire Pitiot. Marie Victoire was also the aunt of Victoire Suzanne Monteise. In other words, the mother of the Anne Marie Joseph baptized in 1793 was likely one of these three women. 

It seems that Anne Marie Joseph's parents were still alive when she passed away in 1859, so it was probably one of the younger women (the daughter or the niece of Marie Victoire Gory). Marie Victoire Gory was still married to Michel Pitiot in the 1780s and we were unable to find any mention of his death before 1793. Moreover, we know that Victoire Suzanne Monteise's first name was obviously Victoire, strengthening the case for identifying her as the mother. We could only find one instance in which Marie Victoire Gory's name appeared as just Victoire Gory, and that was when her sister's illegitimate child, Marie Louise, was baptized in 1769. Marillac, who married a sister of Victoire Suzanne Monteise, was also the godfather to the son of Marie Victoire Gory born in 1781. He must have known all three of these women but all the evidence remains slightly in greater favor for Victoire Suzanne. 

Origins of Celin dit Cangé

Due to our obsession with their dit name that has survived among many Haitians, we have completely overlooked the original family name of a large family of free people of color: Celin. The founders of the lineage in Haiti were actually a white man from Galice (Galicia) named Pierre Sellin (Celin, or perhaps a Gallicized Salinas?) and a woman of color named Marie Therese Damillide or Damilide. The latter may have been from Veracruz, taken in a French raid on that part of Mexico. It is difficult to read the surname of Marie Therese's mother (Orada? Orara? Arara?) and the place of origin seems to be Vella or Novella Cruz isle espagnolle, but Veracruz the ville might have been the intended place of origin. Regardless of her exact origins, Pierre Sellin appears to have married a woman of color since their children were identified as such in later records. Their daughter, for instance, married a Jean Baptiste Souché who was a "mulatto" and habitant of Jacmel.  

The two were married in Leogane parish in 1695 and produced at least 3 or 4 children. It looks like their household was enumerated in the Jacmel Quarter and its dependencies in the 1703 Census. We assume Jean Salin or Jean Celin born in Leogane parish was the one who married Marguerite Butet and produced numerous children, beginning with Jean Baptiste in Baynet. 

In addition to Jean, his sister Elizabeth or Isabelle also married a Souché and his brother Pierre Celin probably also had children. Perhaps Pierre the father or Pierre the brother also acted as the godfather to Jean's children born in the 1720s before they moved to Petit-Harpon. Intriguingly, one of the Pierre Celins (perhaps Jean's father, or more likely his brother?) married the widow of Francois Saugrain, Marguerite Francq. 

Trying to make sense of the numerous Cangé in 18th century Jacmel, Bainet, and Leogane is difficult with only digitized ANOM parish registers. The repetition of Jean and Pierre as names sometimes leads to confusion, although we now understand why Pierre was so commonly used as a first name (after the founder of the lineage and the brother of Jean). We assume the Jean Sellin born in the 1690s was the only one who had children with a woman named Marguerite Butet, perhaps a sister of Jeanne Butet (illegitimate daughter of Rene Butet of Le Mans). However, the Jean Baptiste baptized in Baynet in the 1710s had a mother with a different surname, something like Courville? We are also unsure about deaths of Jean Celin's parents or if most if not all people bearing the Celin dit Cangé name were actually descendants of Jean.

Part of our confusion stems from the 1703 census. According to that source, the Cangé (or Celin) household included 2 males bearing arms and 2 adult women. We are probably safe to assume that by this period Pierre Sellin and Marie Therese were 2 of the adults. Who were the other ones? Was Pierre Celin accompanied by some unknown cousin or brother we are ignorant of? His sons would have been children and too young to be counted as men bearing arms. 

What makes sense to us is that Jean Celin, born in the 1690s, was the "mixed-race" child who started having children with Marguerite in the late 1710s and 1720s. He was probably illiterate and by the late 1730s or 1740s, had established himself at Petit-Harpon. Some of his children stayed or moved back to Jacmel and Bainet, spreading their Celin Cangé name around the area. Some of their descendants ended up in the valley of Bainet, such as Jean Pierre and Jean Louis in the late 1700s. We assume the "Calit Cangé" habitation in the valley of Bainet was named after one of them and that some remained in the area after the Haitian Revolution. 

Since Celin disappeared and Cangé survives in the Bainet and Jacmel area, and the Cangé were a numerous family in the 18th century, we assume that some of us are descendants of them. Our earliest known ancestor with the name was probably born in c.1829 in the valley of Bainet, but we are missing too many years of the 19th century Bainet civil records to positively identify his parents. However, we earlier pointed out a connection between a Jean Charles Cangé and an Alexandre who acted as godfather to his child in the 1820s. There were also other Alexandre-Cangé ties in the valley of Bainet and Jacmel during the early 19th century. In nearby Jacmel, for instance, one Jean Baptiste Alexandre was married to a Cangé and had a child in the 1818. We think the parents of our great-great-grandmother may have been from close Alexandre and Cangé backgrounds, perhaps living in or near Bergin (Begin) but lack the required documents to prove it. Nonetheless, we're willing to bet good money Jean Michel Cangé was somehow related to Jean Charles Celin Cangé or another one of the Cangé living in the valley of Bainet during the 1790s. After all, the valley isn't that large of a place and many people must have remained in the area after independence. 

Alexis Saugrain's Martinique and Saint Christophe Origins

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.

An English Guillaume Fostre or Foster appears in the 1671 Census of Saint-Christophe, also available on FamilySearch. This was probably the father of Barbe Faste, although he seems to have been married to a woman named Gidienne, not Jeanne.

Saugrain Habitation in Bainet (Anse à Canot)

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 from Curacao and Alexis Saugrain

 

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. 

Gorr

Fate, it would seem, is not without a sense of irony. One of our ancestral surnames comes from the word for the pig, our least favorite animal. Our source, Morlet's Dictionnaire étymologique des noms de famille includes several variants of the family name, although the spelling of Gaury does not appear. It seems to be a lesson common surname nowadays.

Pierre Celin dit Cangé

The signature of Jean Pierre Cangé appears here, when he became the godfather to a Jean Joseph Stanislas in 1781. 

What makes trying to piece together the origins of the Cangé in the 18th century so difficult is their large numbers and the repetition of the same names (Jean, Pierre, etc.). One glaring example is the appearance of at least two people with Pierre Celin as part of their full name. Both were supposedly the sons of Jean Cangé and Marguerite Butet, but they married different women and were not the same person. Our tentative reconstruction of our great-great-grandmother's father's family assumes descent from one of them, the younger one not born in 1729. 

In 1755, Pierre Louis Celin Cangé married Marie Therese Petit.

Our Cangé ancestry appears to derive from the Pierre Celin dit Cangé, who was the father of Jean Pierre, baptized in 1760. That Jean Pierre went on to marry a Saugrain and became the father of Jean Charles, the man we suspect was the grandfather of our great-great-grandmother. From what I could gather, the Pierre Louis Cangé who married Marie Therese Petit (the woman whose family suddenly became "Indians" later in the 18th century) was actually the father of the general who went on to fight at the Battle of Savannah and became a general during the Haitian Revolution. That Pierre Cangé later fell in disgrace after the 1805 Santo Domingo campaign and was killed by order of Henri Christophe in 1806, according to Histoire de Toussaint Louverture by Pauléus Sannon.

So, there appear to have been two men brothers named Pierre, children of the free people of color Marguerite Butet and Jean Cangé. Pierre Celin dit Cangé had a number of children with a Françoise or Marie Françoise Geoffroi or Geffroy, before he married her in 1770. The other one, Pierre Louis Celin, married a Petit and sired a number of children. If our theory is correct, our great-great-grandmother was a descendant of the Pierre Celin dit Cangé. As mentioned in our previous speculative posts about her origins, we are still lacking a birth record for her father and would like some information on her Alexandre mother. However, it does seem likely that her father was a descendant of the Jean Charles born in the 1780s. We also know that Jean Pierre Cangé was still living in the Valley of Bainet in the 1790s, and it is likely that his son remained in the same area. Unfortunately, we still couldn't identify any of the African-born forebears of these free people of color or figure out the origins of the Geoffroy before Pierre Geoffroy.

Pitiot

Another family related to the Bainet Gory in the 18th century was the Pitiot. A swift perusal of ANOM's Bainet materials revealed that the first Pitiot in Bainet, Jean, was a native of Port de Paix who died in 1761. His son, a "grif" named Michel, married Marie Victoire Gory. Their child, Jean Joseph Pitiot, was baptized in 1781 and had the same godfather as our Anne Marie Joseph Gory. 

Marie Victoire Gory, the mother of Jean Joseph Pitiot, was also the godmother of Victoire Suzanne Monteise, the woman who appears to have been the mother of Anne Marie Joseph. Unsurprisingly, in a small place like Bainet, along the L'Islet River, every knew each other and those from the same family likely lived on the same habitation or nearby. The Pitiot connection surprised us in that Jean Pitiot came to Bainet from Port de Paix, on the other side of the colony. 

Les pays du Tchad et la montée des périls, 1795-1850

Les pays du Tchad et la montée des périls, 1795-1850 is another one of Zeltner's shorter books, this one consisting of some introductory chapters and essays on 4 major figures who shaped the Chad Basin in the first half of the 19th century. Beginning with 2 chapters on the regional context and Arab migrations before delving into Abd al-Jalil, Yusuf Caramanli, Muhammad al-Amin al-Kanemi and Sabun of Wadai, Zeltner treads familiar ground. Those who have read his work on Tripoli and Kanem will perhaps not find much new material here. Nonetheless, he corrects some of his past assertions or mistakes and offers some more detailed analysis and commentary on Arab genealogies and the rise of Wadai as the major power in the eastern Chad Basin. Zeltner is probaby correct to identify the ancestors of the Bani Hassan as among the Arabs in Kanem who allied themselves with Idris b. Ali against the Bulala in the 16th century. The suggestive analysis of Kotoko and Mandara state and religious ideologies and the ancestor-snake cult of Wadai are thought-provoking, too. 

Although one may take issue with a great man approach to the history of the area around Lake Chad, Zeltner's detailed study of the 4 aforementioned leaders actually does a great job highlighting how closely connected their respective states and peoples were. For al-Kanemi, the shehu who founded today's dynasty of Borno, his maternal family's Fezzani origins and his upbringing in today's Libya (plus his several years spent in the East) illustrates how the elites of Borno were not isolated from broader trends and currents in the Islamic world. Moreover, due to what Zeltner sees as the military weakness of Borno, al-Kanemi had to rely on diplomacy to avert a Tripolitanian invasion and use their support against Bagirmi. While he perhaps ultimately failed to fully restore Kanem to Bornoan suzerainty, and the Fezzani invasions were disasters that even included his sister among their victims, al-Kanemi succeeded in impressing the British Borno mission, ending the Bagirmi threat, defended the western frontier, and secured an alliance with the Awlad Sulayman. 

One cannot help but admire al-Kanemi, despite his flaws and perhaps his questionable reasons for agreeing to send his child as a hostage to Libya. His charisma, ability to attract Kanembu and Arab followers (as well as other adventurers and outsiders), military and spiritual leadership and interest in technological and economic advantages of relations with the British certainly made him an exceptional ruler in a turbulent era. It just seems fantastic that he was so afraid of a Tripolitanian invasion despite surely knowing something of the financial straits of the Pasha. Either way, British refusal to loan the necessary funds and direct relations with Britain made the invasion impossible. That must be part of the reason for al-Kanemi's cordial reception of Denham, Clapperton and Oudney. He further secured Borno from northern attacks through sealing an alliance with Abd al-Jalil and the Awlad Sulayman, who became the effective rulers of the Fezzan after al-Mukni's fall from grace. 

The other figures examined by Zeltner include some of the most influential and notorious figures in the history of Chad and Libya. Yusuf Caramanli, the murderous man who slaughtered his own brother in front of their mother, saw to the end of the Awlad Muhammad dynasty in the Fezzan. His corsair activity and heavy involvement in the slave trade were interrupted by European pressure and the Greek war of independence, forcing him to overtax the population. Unlike, say, Muhammad Ali in Egypt, he was never able to successfully conquer or launch a permanent occupation of Sudanic Africa. His bey of the Fezzan, who harbored his own hopes of an empire in the southern lands, was recalled. As mentioned previously, Yusuf additionally failed to secure the necessary British loans to fund a full invasion of Borno. Nevertheless, the fact that his troops were able to invade Bagirmi and loot Massenya was an impressive feat, showing Tripolitanian imperial ambition perhaps akin to that of Egypt in the Sudan. It also attests to the powerful role of firearms in a region which had once been a pioneer in the use of muskets in 16th century Borno.  

Wadai under Sabun and Abd al-Jalil of the Awlad Sulayman represent more admirable figures. The latter, after his tribe's defeats and oppression from Yusuf Caramanli and Tripolitanian authorities, almost became the force of unification for Libya's Arabs. By mastering the Fezzan and establishing cordial relations with Borno, he only needed to secure a Mediterranean port. The divisions within the Arab population and conflict with the Pasha who succeeded Yusuf made this impossible before his death. Tragically, a famine and treason among the Arab allies brought about the death of Abd al-Jalil. The Awlad Sulayman later migrated to Kanem, where they became the major arbiter between Borno and Wadai. British and French involvement in Tripolitanian affairs, plus British interest in securing a sea port open to Fezzani caravans (and a dream of ending the slave trade) further demonstrate how significant European involvement in Central Sudanic, Central Saharan affairs were before the colonial conquest. 

Wadai under Sabun, who restored centralized monarchical power and opened a trade route through Benghazi, represented another visionary leader whose successors arguably failed to live up to the opportunities he created. Although we recall other sources mentioning Wadai's invasion of Bagirmi under Sabun as an action mandated by the Sayfawa mai in Borno, Zeltner focuses on the invasion and subsequent tributary status of Bagirmi as a momentous event and display of the regional ambitions of Sabun. Wadai benefited from Barma and other migrants and slaves who brought with them their weaving and dyeing skills. Moreover, intervention in the affairs of Kanem by investing their own alifa at Mao represented a direct threat to Borno. Despite Sabun's opening of a direct trans-Saharan route to the Mediterranean (instead of going through the Fezzan or the arduous route through Darfur, a state previously at war with Wadai) and his success in reducing Bagirmi to a vassal, his successors closed the kingdom due to fears of a Tripolitanian invasion. It would take decades before Wadai's rulers took full advantage of the commercial opportunities Sabun created. Fortunately for Wadai, their rulers did succeed and in so doing created a state which approximated the borders of modern Chad. 

Unquestionably, the first half of the 19th century brought major changes to the Central Sudan and Libya. Demographic changes with the further migration of Arab nomads south of Lake Chad accompanied political and economic transformations. The slave trade, still of the utmost importance for trans-Saharan commerce, continued unabated. But the growing influence of the British and the French in Tripoli and direct contact with Borno promised significant alterations in the balance of power. Borno emerged from the jihad to the west as reduced power, no longer a hegemonic force. Wadai to the east became a major force to reckon with. Libya, through the fall of the Caramanlis and Awlad Sulayman, was more effectively administered by Ottoman-appointed officials. While British dreams of ending the slave trade and ensuring commerce with the African interior via the Sahara did not materialize, the looming threat of Europe dangled like a sword of Damocles over this region of Africa. 

Colonial Borno Economy

Yakubu Mukhtar's Trade, Merchants and the State in Borno, c. 1893-1939 is an excellent analysis of the economy of Borno during the first few decades of British colonialism. Mukhtar's study endeavors to examine the question of trade and economy in colonial Borno in the context of northern Nigeria's economic reorientation to the coast and the thorny issues of dependency theory and vent for surplus theory. Relying on oral sources, colonial reports, and previous scholarship, Mukhtar found the Borno case to not support either theory strongly. Moreover, he found that the colonial state and its reliance on indirect rule, plus issues of transportation and prices for Borno's exports, made Borno rather late in terms of becoming a major exporter of commodities like gum arabic, cattle, or groundnuts. The thorny issues of compelling peasant producers to shift to gum arabic, impose taxation in cash rather than in kind, and attempting to work with "traditional" rulers led to problems like the persistence of slavery until the 1930s or widespread smuggling across colonial borders. One can see the frustrations of the colonial officialdom who sought to make administration of Borno pay for itself despite the troubled economy inherited from Rabeh. 

Indeed, while British colonialism did not bring Borno into the international capitalist system (that already happened through trans-Saharan trade and Sudanic trade in commodities that linked precolonial Borno to Europe and the Mediterranean), British rule did gradually lead to a more thoroughly monetized economy with closer integration into the world capitalist system. With the extension of the railway to Kano and the 1930 extension to Nguru, Borno's hides, skins, gum arabic, cattle, and natron more easily reached Lagos and other regions. European and Levantine commercial firms began to increase their operations in Borno and northeast Nigeria, particularly important as an important node in trade of cattle, kola nuts, cloth, salt, and textiles with the French colonies of Niger and Chad. Again, much of this was not new. Borno had long been a center of Sudanic commerce and its role in the production and distribution of salt, dried fish, livestock, textiles, natron, kola nuts, and other commodities had made it the most important area of the Central Sudan before the Sokoto Caliphate's rise. What British rule did was improve security and, gradually, with the railroad, modern roads, and lorries, increase the scale of trade. Borno remained a peripheral part of Northern Nigeria in comparison to Kano, but the quantity and amount of goods exported to Lagos and beyond gradually led to more local consumers of imported European goods and an indigenous merchant class.

What is most interesting about Mukhtar's study of Borno's economy in the colonial transition is the issue of continuity and change from precolonial patterns. Slavery, as previously mentioned, continued despite British crackdown on slave traders. The system of indirect rule also led to attempts to work with the Shehu and his administration, albeit changing the titled nobility from absentee to settled ones in the villages and towns outside the capital. Borno Resident officials like H.R. Palmer were active in promoting possible exports for Borno, such as gum arabic, while persuading the Shehu to promote gum arabic to the peasantry and engage in trade with European firms, like the Niger Company. Indigenous merchants of Kanuri and Hausa origin, or the once dominant North African traders, also continued to operate in Borno with some enjoying close relations with the traditional authorities. North Africans gradually lost their position of prominence due to the decline of the trans-Saharan trade. While trans-Saharan trade routes connecting Tripolitania with Kano and Zinder sometimes included a stopover to Borno, the second decade of the 20th century saw an end to that. North Africans began to shift to Lagos and working as agents of European firms. Nonetheless, they continued to enjoy a prominent role that led to the establishment of the Fezzan ward of Maiduguri and religious, cultural, and social relations to Borno's authorities. Levantines and even Yemeni traders also entered Borno during this period, sometimes also becoming agents of European firms. Access to credit gave the Levantines an advantage over local traders, who competing with African merchants buying and selling the same commodities. Nonetheless, a number of Hausa, Kanuri and other West African traders became prosperous through kola nuts, cattle, hides, and cotton cloth trade. Their unfamiliarity with bookkeeping, lack of access to credit, and perhaps Islamic and cultural practices that impeded the chances for their businesses to survive the founder's death made it harder for them to maintain a position comparable to that of the Levantines.

Ultimately, the question of Borno's economy and the colonial transition was a mix of moderate improvements and frustrated hopes. New exports like gum arabic and groundnuts replaced slaves, ivory and ostrich plumes, which definitely represented a major shift in Borno's non-Sudanic trade. However, the improvements in transportation were not as widespread or quick enough to have facilitated the development of these exports earlier in the colonial period. Furthermore the persistent problem of food supply and the delicate ecology of the area meant it was not guaranteed that Kanuri peasants would dedicate themselves to gum arabic instead of subsistence crops or groundnuts. Of course, Borno's distance from Lagos and the Atlantic also contributed to its importance. So, while remaining a periphery of Kano and Lagos, Borno was actually hugely important for the trade in cattle and natron from Chad and Niger. Wadai's cattle, for example, were often shipped through Borno to reach Southern Nigeria. Borno was likewise important in producing grain for trade to Niger and Chad. Borno's economic position was thus something of a paradox. It benefited from its geographic position while also suffering from it. The region appears to have experienced something of a boom after 1939 with some exports, but never to have developed the type of successful indigenous business class of Kano. Certainly the benefits of Borno's gradually improved economic situation were also felt unevenly. Peasants and the lower classes may have benefited from access to cash and more affordable imports from Europe, but ongoing issues of transportation, price fluctuations and the depression years must have limited the positive outcomes of this era.

Samba da Minha Terra

 

Our ongoing obsession with Brazilian music has brought us back to Novos Baianos, a band we loved back in 2012 and 2013 but forgot about over much of the past decade. They had a a magical run of maybe 3 or 4 great albums and a perfect fusion of Brazilian styles and rock...

Oyo

Despite some video quality troubles and a few errors, this short lecture by Paul Lovejoy is well worth the listen. Oyo was a northern Yoruba state with a cavalry and links to the Nupe, Bariba and Hausaland. Ali Eisami was also enslaved in Oyo so the state was connected to Borno via trade and the slave trade. I just wish we had more sources on the history of this fascinating Yoruba empire. Robin Law's monograph endeavored to make do with the fragmentary oral traditions, limited external sources and later Yoruba histories of the post-imperial Oyo years. What he accomplished was quite impressive for reconstructing the political, economic, social, and administrative features of Oyo, but it all seems so speculative. 

Drouillac Hunting

Our current theory assumes this Françoise Drouillac, who passed away in 1761 in Leogane, was the mother of Marie Françoise Paponet, who married Joseph Gory in 1771.

As part of our quest to trace the origins of the forebears of Anne Marie Joseph Gory in our tentative family tree, we decided to attempt to tackle the issue of the Drouillac. According to our theory, Anne Marie Joseph's father was the grandson of a Paponet who married Joseph Gory. Her mother, a Drouillac of Leogane, appears to have died in 1761 and was presumably born in the early 1720s or late 1710s. Paponet had a son from a previous relationship who married Agathe Gory. The product of that union, a Joseph baptized in 1776, seems like the best candidate for Anne Marie Joseph's father. Even if we are wrong, at least we are further establishing the familial network of the Bainet Gory in 18th century Saint-Domingue.

The 1771 marriage entry for Joseph Gory and Paponet appears to indicate that Françoise Drouillac was deceased, which supports the idea she was the Drouillac who died in 1761. 

So, who were the Drouillac? Another round of searching Leogane entries of baptisms, marriages and deaths via ANOM's site helped to partly address the question. We found a few individuals who were likely siblings of Françoise, including a Pierre, Ignace, and François. Although I am not sure all had the same mother, they appear to share a Gilles Drouillac as their father. Assuming they were all born in the 1710s and 1720s, we assume Gilles Drouillac was probably born in the late 17th century and was a "mulatto" scion of a Drouillac and a black woman we could not locate. 

Ignace Douillac, who died in 1744, was the son of a Gilles and a woman named Marie Therese. We assume Ignace was a sibling of our Françoise.

What helped make things easier is the number of children Pierre and François had. The baptismal entry for the daughter of the latter, Rose Victoire, actually named Gilles Dujacq (Gilles Drouillac) as the godfather. Interestingly, François was named as a free black, perhaps because he was a dark-skinned grif son of a "mulatto" and a "black" woman? Elsewhere we have noticed the shifting color or racial terms used to describe the population of Saint-Domingue, so we assume the parish priests just recorded what they thought as more accurate "racial" category for nonwhites (or, in some cases, chose to omit any mention of their racial origin). 

We also have established by 1752, Gilles Drouillac resided in Grand-Goave. Assuming Marie Therese was the mother of all (or most) of his children, including Françoise Drouillac, we can probably infer that she was a "griffe" born sometime in the early 1720s or late 1710s. She actually appeared as the godmother to the child of Pierre  in 1743. So we know at least a few things about her origins and her parentage. The Drouillac were still around in the late colonial era in Grand-Goave, too. A Marcel Drouillac, son of a later Gilles Drouillac married in 1794. We assume his father was the Gilles baptized in 1756, a son of Pierre Drouillac. 

A daughter of Pierre Douillac (Drouillac) and Marie Rose was baptized in 1743. Her godmother was Françoise and the child actually bore the same name as Françoise's daughter.

The harder, more time-consuming task that remains is to search for Gilles and Marie Therese early on in Leogane. Who knows, perhaps that could contain a reference to an African-born person or lead to a revelation about other possible Drouillac-Gory connections. We just wish Drouillac had a consistent spelling so we don't have to search for Douillac, Douliac, Dujac, Dujacq, and Drouillac. Alas, we still have to identify the Paponet father of Marie Françoise and the father of her son. That would require a trip to Grand Anse and a more thorough search of the voluminous Leogane parish register.