The Caribbean in the Islario General

 

Although not immediately useful for our primary interests, we found the maps of the insular Caribbean in Alonso de Santa Cruz's Islario general de todas las islas del mundo fascinating. We are primarily interested in indigenous toponyms in the Greater Antilles, for which the map of of Hispaniola is perhaps the most detailed or useful.

Sociedad y economía de los Taínos

Francisco Moscoso's Sociedad y economía de los Taínos contains two essays on Taino society and agriculture. As one might expect, it treads familiar territory in terms of Moscoso's past scholarship on the development of precolonial societies in the Antilles. Drawing from chronicles, archival documents, archaeological studies, and theoretical premises of changes in the mode of production and social relations, Moscoso argues quite persuasively for a "tribal-tributary" mode for the Taino cacicazgo by 1000 CE. This was a transitional stage to a class-based society that was interrupted by the Spanish conquest. Moscoso applies this understanding to the entire history of humans in the Caribbean, starting with bands, moving to tribes, and culminating with the chiefdoms known as cacicazgos with more division of labor, hereditary elites (caciques, nitainos, behiques), and regular surpluses through conuco agriculture. This was, at least in Azua, Jaragua, and Maguana, supplemented by irrigation projects and possibly hydraulic works that facilitated agriculture in parts of Haiti which suffered from less rainfall. Indeed, Moscoso even cites a 1495 document by Columbus on the existence of acequias in Maguana. Although it is uncertain, it is likely that similar irrigation practices existed in Puerto Rico, Cuba and possibly Jamaica, too. 

The second essay included in the volume focuses on agriculture, and regularly draws from Oviedo, Las Casas, and other ethnographic sources on societies at similar stages of development. The various uses, applications, and varieties of crops, plants, fruits, and wood utilized by the Taino cacicazgo societies exhibit a highly developed understanding of their local environments. Both essays similarly stress Moscoso's argument about the tribal-tributary stage reached by cacicazgos and the central importace of regular surpluses. Using Las Casas and other sources, one can reach possibly accurate estimates of yuca production (but not other crops cultivated by the Tainos) that suggest high population levels. Thus, Moscoso estimated that Xaragua could have had 30,000-40,000 inhabitants (assuming Behechio and the 32 caciques under his order each led aldeas with the minimum number of inhabitants suggested by Las Casas (1000 people). Similarly, Serrano, one of the old conquistadors interviewed in 1517 by the Hieronymites, reported that the grand caciques held under their control 30,000, 40,000 or 50,000 naborias. And given the role of the cacique in ordering the type of labor to be done by naborias and their role in determining the redistribution of said surplus, the dominant 'class' developed a complex ideology that justified the control of caciques and nitainos. 

Huecoid Documentary

Watching this old but interesting documentary on the Huecoid on the Youtube channel of Gerardo M. Piñero Cádiz was quite interesting. Luis Chanlatte Baik himself appears in this, explaining his work on the first Huecoid site identified back in the 1970s. While his theory of an Andean origin for the Huecoid needs more evidence, it is interesting to noe the amulets or pendants with a condor-like bird holding a human head does have a long pedigree in Andean cultures. Perhaps the Huecoid really were of Andean origin or were influenced by Andean cultures to some extent, before migrating to Puerto Rico and Vieques over 2000 years ago? And if evidence from the lithics can be relied upon, the Huecoid truly were a distinct tradition from the Saladoid who appear to have Arawakan speakers from Venezuela. Were the Huecoid representatives of another language family besides Arawakan? 

Language in the Pre-Columbian Antilles

The collaboration of Julian Granberry and Gary Vescelius produced a short but very readable analysis of the languages of the precolonial Caribbean. Determined to see how linguistic evidence can be of assistance with tracking external and internal migration in the archipelago based on archaeological and ethnohistoric evidence, Languages of the Pre-Columbian Antilles proposes a few general theories. First, that the earliest Archaic population in the Antilles came from Central America, possibly speaking a Tolan language. A possible remnant of this ancient language presence might be attested in Hispaniola among the Ciguayo, whose word for gold, tuob, indicates a possible connection with that language family. Quisqueya, one of the indigenous names of the island of Haiti may also show a connection to Eastern Tol languages of Honduras. Of course, we lack enough words from the language spoken by the Ciguayo of Hispaniola to actually know for sure. But it's an interesting idea, considering the archaeological evidence of a movement of Central Americans from the area of Belize/Honduras into the West Indies in prehistoric times. Granberry and Vescelius also propose a movement of a population speaking a language related to Warao, a language isolate of Venezuela. This movement happened after the movement of Central Americas into the Antilles, and may have survived in the Macorix language, still spoken in parts of Hispaniola when the Spanish arrived (although not restricted to only Hispaniola). 

The authors then propose the movement of Arawakan speakers after this period, who spoke a language from the Northwest branch of Maipuran languages, closer to Goajiro than, say, Lokono and the Northeast branch. Over time, the expansion of Arawakan speakers into the Greater Antilles and Lesser Antilles led to the replacement of the Warao-like language or a new, creolized form of the Arawakan tongue, which became the Taino language. Evidence for a pre-Taino Warao-related language is also lacking enough evidence to support, but words like duho or duhu in Taino appear to be derived from the Warao word for stools or sitting. Similarly, the word for gold, nozay, in the Lucayan Islands may be related to the Modern Warao term for gold. According to Granberry, this Warao-influenced Arawakan language was the "Ciboney" tongue used in Cuba, western Hispaniola, probably Jamaica and the Lucayan islands. The language we call Classic Taino, however, was the universal tongue and appears to have been in a process of expansion into Cuba right before the Spanish conquest. As for the Guanahatabey of Cuba, Granberry and Vescelius accept the theory of their Archaic origins, which implies they may have spoken one of the pre-Arawak languages of the Antilles.

Trying to connect language shifts with ceramic styles and lithics can be fraught with danger. Sometimes languages spread or change without necessarily correlating with ceramic styles or other aspects of material culture. In that regard, we are unsure how to interpret the theory of a Meillacoid ceramics style and Chican being signs of distinct languages. In addition, we wonder about the power of Xaragua in western Hispaniola, which was considered by Las Casas to have spoken the most refined form of the universal language of the island. If that language was Taino, and they spoke the most refined form of it while also being considered the most powerful cacicazgo of the island, does that not imply a strong or influential Classic Taino influence in the western parts of Hispaniola? Nevertheless, Granberry and Vescelius's study, despite its very limited data to support their ideas of Tolan and Warao-like languages in the ancient Great Antilles, raise a number of interesting insights. For instance, using toponyms to postulate where the first inhabitants of the Lucayans came from (Cuba and Hispaniola) is an interesting idea that can be supported with archaeological evidence. Furthermore, the adoption of the Warao duhu for what is one of the most important signs of chiefly power and ceremonial uses in Taino civilization is certainly interesting, even if no other Taino words related to chiefly power or spirituality have a link to Warao.

Likewise, the fact that Eyeri or Lesser Antilles Arawakan language was closer to Northeast Arawakan languages on the South American mainland, a pattern still evident in the Garifuna language which descends from, illustrates the huge linguistic diversity in the precolonial period. A few other instances of specific words that do not demonstrate clear Arawak affinities or archival sources might have further strengthened some of the ideas proposed by the authors. For example, Oviedo's reference to the use of the word "eracra" for bohio or house by the Indians of the island of Haiti should have been examined to see if it shows any similarities with Warao or Central American tongues. And the explanation of the prefix maku and the definition of Macorix or Macorix could have been expanded upon for understanding references to "Macurijes" in other parts of the Great Antilles, such as Cuba. If Macurijes in Cuba during the second half of the 16th century did not speak Taino, was it a Warao language? Or were they speaking what the authorss considered "Ciboney" instead? It is difficult to know, although the idea of Macorix implying a non-Arawakan language is an interesting one. It might be worthwhile to also look into languages in Florida the coast of Panama and Colombia for possible connections with other cultures the Greater Antilles peoples were in contact with.

Juan Garrido, Black Conquistador

Ricardo Alegria's brief study of Juan Garrido, a prominent black conquistador who participated in various expeditions and conquests in Puerto Rico, Florida, Mexico and Baja California, is a worthwhile read. It helps one to understand the connections between the early conquests of the Taino chiefdoms in the Antilles through the career of a free black. Sadly, his early life is unknown, but his probanza and references to him in Spanish sources tell us that he came to Hispaniola as a free man. Later, he joined Ponce de Leon in the pacification of Puerto Rico and then participated in Ponce de Leon's second Florida expedition. In between these two campaigns, Garrido also fought against the "Caribs" in Dominica and Guadeloupe before ending up in Mexico via Cuba. 

Alegria then follows Garrido's career to Michoacan, Baja California and his final days in Mexico City, where Garrido probably died in the 1540s. Despite his role in the fall of Tenochtitlan in 1521, in the conquest of Puerto Rico and his being the first to sow wheat in New Spain, Garrido, his wife (possibly an Indian woman) and three sons lived in poverty. His granjeria and the sweat of his labor provided a low subsistence while newcomers received encomiendas or more favors from the Spanish Crown. In addition, the fall of Cortes from leadership in the colony may have also made it harder for Garrido and other old allies of Cortes to access land and Indian labor. That said, Garrido did briefly endeavor to mine gold in Michoacan with slave labor, although he indebted himself for slaves and tools.

While Garrido's career indicates the relatively high position accessible to free blacks in early colonial Mexico, and his skin color may have even played a role in the conquest due to its novelty to Indians, Garrido never received the full compensation for his labor that he deserved. That said, his relatively high status among the conquistadors is an interesting case study of how non-Spaniards contributed to the success of the Spanish conquest. Indeed, there was even a Taino cacique from Cuba who also came to Mexico to participate in the conquest, bringing about 40 of his subjects with him (Diego de Valbuena). We are curious about the role of Taino and Africans in Spanish conquests in the mainland, as well as possible instances in which Indians from the Antilles, like some of the enslaved Africans, chose to rebel. Indeed, Mexico City witnessed a slave conspiracy along those lines in which black slaves and Indians eager to get rid of the Spanish, planned to revolt. 

Decades of the New World

Our ongoing obsession with the Taino led to our rereading of De Orbe Novo by Peter Martyr d'Anghiano. Although the author never personally traveled to the Antilles, he received the testimony and met with Columbus and various other Spaniards who crossed the Atlantic. Indeed, he even saw some of the curiosities, plants, and objects brought to Europe by those who did indeed travel. In addition, according to Bernardo Vega, our author was also one of those who recorded the details of a detailed map and description of the island of Hispaniola by Andres Morales. Furthermore, he even had access to the report of a certain friar, one of the most important sources on the religion and mythology of Hispaniola's indigenous population. 

De Orbe Novo is also full of rich information and details on the Caribbean and circum-Caribbean region's peoples. For instance, an early description of Guadeloupe's population mentioned numerous villages of 20-30 houses and a public square, used for games. This useful information on Guadeloupe provides modern scholars with some rough estimate of the population of indigenous villages in Guadeloupe and other parts of the Antilles in the late precolonial period. An early reference to Puerto Rico, or Borinquen, likewise alludes to Indian informants telling Columbus that the entirety of the island was under the rule of a single king (Agueybana or the cacicazgo of Agueybana?). Supposedly these Puerto Rico natives were able to communicate with the Spaniards via interpreters from Columbus's first voyage. Even so, one wonders if Puerto Rico truly was under the dominion of a single cacicazgo. 

This same source is similarly important for piecing together the intricacies of inter-cacique conflict and alliances in Hispaniola, or Haiti. Guacanagaric, the cacique in the north who first welcomed Columbus, blamed the massacre and destruction of the men left by Columbus at La Navidad on two more powerful caciques. And another cacique in the northern part of the island was described at living in a spacious house surrounded by 30 ordinary houses, perhaps another indication of a Taino village size. Martyr d'Anghiera's description of Haiti's indigenous people even included mention of trade with other islands for plates, seats (duhos), and articles manufactured with black wood (guayacan?). We also learn from this same source that the cacique Guarionex married his sister to Diego, the interpreter of Columbus. This was surely a great attempt to seal an alliance with the Spanish via a familiar other (Diego) who understood the Spanish, an entirely new type of other who threatened the political equilibrium of the island. Yet Guarionex would later resist the Spanish after the defeat of Caonabo and his brother (who allegedly raised 5000 troops against the Spanish only to be defeated by their cavalry). The fact that Guarionex taught an areyto to Mayobanex was so significant that the latter stood by Guarionex against the Spanish, even as his supporters allegedly abandoned him.

Jamaica's Indians were described as living in a fertile land and skilled in mechanical arts, perhaps indicating an exchange of goods between Jamaica and Haiti in the precolonial past. Cuba, on the other island, presents a number of interesting questions on the nature of indigenous Caribbean mobility and connections to other parts of the Antilles. One early Spaniard on the island reported seeing Indians wearing white tunics but a subsequent search failed to locate them. Furthermore, Spanish reported hearing of a powerful king in the interior of the island who wore clothes. Yet, this very same source also describes the Indians of Cuba as never leaving their territory and taking little notice of their neighbors. This is interesting since there may have been a presence of Yucatan Maya or other mainland populations (the Indians wearing clothes) in Cuba. While the later presence a Indian woman from Jamaica at Cozumel was noted by the Spanish, perhaps contacts between the Yucatan and Cuba were also in existence prior to the Spanish arrival. 

Last, but certainly not least, some intriguing details about the Indians of the northern coast of South America are worthy of mention. The Paria natives, described as wearing gold and pearl collars or bracelets, claimed their gold came from a mountainous country. The caciques of their region also used duhos made of black wood, like the caciques of the Antilles. The Curiana Indians also were said to possess pearls, rich game, yucca, and used guanin. The Curiana traded pearls for gold from from the Cauchieta, a people said to have worn trousers of cotton. There was even a district of the Paria coast, Haraia, which contained rich salines, whose salt was traded to foreigners. In addition, the Paria peoples preserved the bodies of their chiefs. This is all suggestive and points to the long-standing trade links across northern South America. The reference to guanin, which we know was also used by the Taino in the Antilles, points to trade with the mainland. However, if it is true about some of the Indians preserved the bodies of their chiefs, it brings to mind the Incas and Andean civilizations. One begins to wonder about possible long-distance trade connecting to the other coast of South America. 

The First Social Experiments in America

Lewis Hanke's The First Social Experiments in America is a problematic yet fascinating account of the attempts to "reform" an Amerindian population to live liked "civilized" 16th century Spanish peasants. Since it is a dated work originally written in the 1930s, the author draws interesting analogies between these early attempts at "civilizing" a colonized people with 20th century attempts in Africa and elsewhere. In addition, the author seems to also have accepted theories of racial difference in intelligence or mental development. Consequently, he assumes the experiencia and attempted reforms in which Taino Indians were an experiment to see if Indians were capable of living "politically" like people with reason, were perhaps doomed to failure. However, in the most detailed example of the author, the experiencia in  the 1530s near Bayamo, Cuba, the social experiment largely failed due to the corrupt administrator, Guerrero, who abused, exploited, and neglected the Indians placed under his supervision and failed to live up to his end of the arrangement. So, can one truly say from that experience that the Indians of the Greater Antilles lacked the ability to live as people with reason? 

Sure, perhaps the ultimate aim of these social experiments, which was to turn the Indians into peasants of Castile, was likely impossible in the colonial conditions of its era, but some of the colonists interviewed by the Jeronymites in the 1510s were able to acknowledge that the indigenous people of Hispaniola were capable of agriculture, living in communities, and having political order before the Spanish conquest. Where Hanke's book is more useful is in its references and the occasional commentary. While later historians such as Guitar and Anderson-Cordova have used similarly sources on the Taino response to Spanish conquest and the encomienda system in Hispaniola and Puerto Rico, Hanke uses these sources from a slightly different perspective. Since he was not interested in the social experiments from the perspective of the Indians themselves, his lens was quite different. But intriguingly, even he found evidence of resistance among the indigenes of the Spanish Caribbean. For instance, Miguel de Pasamonte's opposition to freedom of Indians due to the danger of them being friends with the black population illustrates the severity of Spanish fears of Indian and African alliances at the time of the Jeronymite Interrogatory. 

Similarly, the experiment of Ovando, which began in 1508 when he granted repartimientos to 2 educated caciques, Alonso de Caceres and Pedro Colon, only to see that these Western-educated Taino caciques failed to uplift or turn their charges into civilized Indians. Instead of viewing them as failures, perhaps these literate and educated caciques understood and knew how their authority was based or rooted in pre-conquest norms and kinship, thus they could not or would not force their assigned Indians to live like Spaniards. Even the cacique Don Francisco of Bonao and the "doctor" of Santiago acted similarly, which may illustrate again how some Taino elites sought to use their Spanish knowledge and education to protect their communities. One wonders similarly about the 3 villages of free Indians in the "experiment" of Rodrigo de Figueroa in Hispaniola. Of course, like the later experiencia in Cuba, Figueroa was accused of corruption and the villagers were almost certainly exploited and abused by the Spanish administrators assigned to watch over them. Perhaps even the Francisco de Figueroa who received 16 Indians as experimental gold miners, to see if Indians were capable of mining for gold without being coerced to do so by the Spanish, could be an example of Indian resistance since they only produced a paltry amount of gold and chose to organize their time and labor in a manner closer to preconquest patterns. 

Muisca, Nicarago and Taino Cacicazgos

Francisco Moscoso's Cacicazgos en el caribe y continente americano was something of a disappointment. We were hoping for a detailed comparative analysis of the cacicazgo among the Taino, Muisca and Nicarao but the chapters were too brief to flesh out a full analysis. This is no surprise, since the book was part of a chapter of a UNESCO General History of the Caribbean series. However, we still hoped for something new or deeper here. For those who have already read Moscoso's work on the Taino chiefdoms or his work on precolonial Nicaragua, this study basically restates the general proposition of the cacicazo as a state of political development somewhere between the tribe and the state. In general, all three of the highlighted indigenous civilizations here were somewhat similar in that all developed systems of tribute, caciques, some degree of stratification, and a form of production beyond that of bands. Assuming one shares his view on the historical stages of production societies undergo, Muisca, Nicarao and Taino are all similar. However, the Nicarao case does seem to be, in part, a product of ancient Mesoamerican migrations and cultural influences which might explain some of the features of the Nicarao civilization. Nonetheless, it is important to recognize and study the specific transitional state of development represented by the cacicazgo. As something akin to an incipient state, elucidating its origins could shed light on the process of state formation elsewhere.  

A World That Columbus Discovered

Un mundo que descubrió Colón: las rutas del comercio prehispánico de los metales by Adam Szaszdi Nagy is a fascinating work endeavoring to understand precolonial trade in metals (and shells, slaves, salt, emeralds, and semiprecious stones) across the Americas. Beginning in the Antilles, where Columbus was first informed of places with gold, guanin and precious metals, Nagy takes the Indian guides and informants seriously for testimony on long-distance trade. Guanin, for instance, the gold-copper alloy so highly treasured by the Taino for pectorals and adornment, was indeed acquired through long-distance trade with South America. Guayana, or Guayana, was likely one of the areas from which guanin (also known as caracoli to the Caribs) spread to the Antilles, perhaps through an exchange of slaves. In addition to guanin and other worked metals, the Antilles was also part of an exchange network that connected all the Americas. 

Shells, jadeite, emeralds, salt, slaves, copper, silver, turquoise and textiles connected North and South America via maritime routes through the Caribbean and across the Pacific. Indeed, Nagy draws on evidence of widespread similar uses of guanin for pectorals and nose pieces in the Antilles, Colombia and Central America to posit a long-lasting network of trade. In addition, the ultimate sources of the techniques for advanced metallurgy appear to have first arisen in Peru and Ecuador, from which they spread to Colombia (the Quimbaya, Muisca, Sinu, and Tairona cultures). Then, via trade routes that traveled along South American rivers and overland, guanin or tumbaga reached the Antilles, Mesoamerica, and beyond (as Florida seems to have received some items of South American origin via the Antilles). 

While Nagy seems to uncritically accept some Spanish sources as valid on the cannibalism of the Caribs or those of the Colombian Cauca valley, he interprets them carefully elsewhere to establish the skill and longevity of contact and trade in the Americas. For instance, the Taino of the Greater Antilles told Colombus, Chanca and others of their trade contacts with the mainland (Zuania, or Guania?). Elsewhere, indigenous informants in 16th century Mexico reported the visit of long-distance traders via the sea to the Pacific Coast of Mexico, which is probably evidence of trade contacts with coastal Ecuador. Was there indeed a movement of specialists in metallurgy from Ecuador to Mexico due to Inca expansion in the 15th century is difficult to say with the sources used, but certainly possible. Likewise, Raleigh and others on Guayana indicate how the long-lasting trade in guanin continued as late as the end of the 16th century in South America. Furthermore, was el Turco, the man encountered in the Southwest by Coronada, really a native of Ecuador? Nagy's evidence is insufficient, but certainly suggestive of ancient contacts via trade between Ecuador and Mexico as natives of Ecuador's coast traveled in balsas with sails. 

One wishes more could have been uncovered on direct Taino trade with Colombia and Venezuela without the Carib or Lesser Antilles intermediaries. Nagy argues that Cuba lacked close trade links with the Yucatan and Central America due to the lack of sufficient trade goods that would have attracted merchants from the mainland. But Jamaica, where a cacique's regalia impressed Columbus and resembled that of Indian populations in parts of Panama and Columbia, would presumably have lacked goods to exchange with the mainland, too. Unless, perhaps, captives or carved, wooden objects of Taino artisans attracted a market in the mainland? And what if, contrary to Nagy, the Taino were cultivating cotton in sufficient quantities to export it to the mainland, and trading directly with the coast of Colombia as well as Venezuela?

India, Guadeloupe, Haiti

Although we have written about the tiny Asian Indian presence in Saint Domingue, we always wondered if people of Indian descent came to Haiti from other Caribbean populations in more recent history. Guadeloupe, in at least once case, provided one such example. Named Sinasfamir Mounien, and born in Guadeloupe to parents from India, he married a Haitian woman in Port-au-Prince in 1903. The marriage act alludes to his parents as Indians and the names certainly sound like it, too. What was he doing in Haiti in 1903? Was he able to earn Haitian citizenship as someone of "Indian" origin? Or was it acquired through his marriage to a Haitian woman? Was he searching for economic or professional opportunities denied to him in Guadeloupe but open to enterprising people of color from the French Antilles in Haiti? It would be mildly interesting to uncover what brought this young man from Guadeloupe to Haiti. And where in India did his parents hail from? We know that he stayed in Haiti for at least some time, having a daughter born in Port-au-Prince in 1906. By then, he was named Louis Emilien Mounien and resided in Port-au-Prince with a domicile in Guadeloupe (Pointe-à-Pitre).

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.

Tentative Timeline for the Colonial French Caribbean

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.

Amerindian Presence in Saint Domingue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

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