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Port-au-Prince au cours des ans (1804-1888)

The volume covering Port-au-Prince from 1804-1888 in Georges Corvington's Port-au-Prince au cours des ans is very important for establishing the pattern of urban (under)development that has characterized Port-au-Prince throughout Haiti's history as an independent nation. Of course, Corvington focuses on the history of Port-au-Prince's urban confines, characteristics, economy, and cultural life means the larger story of Haitian underdevelopment and peripheral status in the world system of the 19th century are largely ignored. But any full understanding of why Port-au-Prince, despite some positive reforms in the years of Geffrard's presidency, or even part of the Salomon years, often failed to consistently maintain urban policies to rebuild or expan infrastructure, must be seen within the larger structural problems of Haitian political economy beyond the capital. By narrowing one's focus on the capital, however, the nefarious consequences of Haiti's structural woes are immediately clear, elucidating why the city in 2026 is unfortunately like its 19th century counterpart.

While the seeds were undoubtedly sown in the colonial era, this volume demonstrates how the various governments for most of Haiti's first century after the Revolution failed to manage and sustain the capital's growth. The perennial problem of instability and frequent revolutions, fires, natural disasters, or economic woes made the capital one which often lacked the infrastructure to adequate house its people. In addition, a large class of urban poor who were either unemployed or underemployed were already evident, with beggars known for congregating in public places and sleeping by the cathedral. Like today, the city's poor roads, badly managed tramway service (driven by horses in the 1870s and 1880s), and the failure of the municipal and national authorities to maintain sanitation, roads, or the distribution of water made much of the capital an unagreeable place. 

Despite these many problems, the capital was not without its charms. For instance, the Geffrard years witnessed a flourishing moment for the elite and bourgeois while Salomon's tenure saw the city expand further, beginning to look more like the capital of today spatially. Various governments did endeavor to improve infrastructure (often running out of funding before completion or relying on questionable concessionaires). The city's urban poor and laboring classes were actively involved in Carnival and the bourgeois homes formed elite salons or patronized theaters and high-end shops. Some degree of mixed neighborhoods could be seen in Bel-Air when petite-bourgoisie families established homes in the area or even parts of the Bord-de-Mer where families with means lived relatively close to impoverished quarters. Naturally, the seeds of the suburbanization and wealthy enclaves also developed in the 1800s, with Turgeau being one of the desirable neighborhoods of the time. 

But those on the other side of the tracks became a burgeoning problem for different neighborhoods, not just Bel-Air or Morne-a-Tuf. The capital's frequent fires, political turmoil, and the government's dependence on German or other foreign interests severely limited the ability of the state to adequately manage and restore the city after its numerous fires. These sadly meant that, as the population gradually grew, the state was usually not able to ensure urban infrastructure or services that would make the city livable. Naturally, this problem became extreme in the second half of the 20th century, but one can already detect traces of it in the 19th century. Even a Salomon who partly encouraged home ownership on the new outskirts of the city or the growth of charity, social aid, and Catholic churches, schools, and hospitals werenot adequate to meet the challenge. Not wholly explained by Corvington but very significant, the urban masses who supported the charismatic Salnave represent one eruption of proletarian or urban poor assertion. Although failing with the fall of Salnave and the return to power of the old bourgeois interests, the specter of the urban poor remained a threat to established interests. For that reason, one wishes Corvington explored more deeply the question of crime, labor (domestic servants, artisans, stevedores), and religion or spirituality of the urban poor and workers. For instance, how did Vodou shape the lives of the urban poor and neighborhood organization or politics? To what extent did the Church's new chapels and parishes in the growing city shape popular Catholic identity and practice? Their lives are partly represented in his numerous references to areas like Bel-Air, but a deeper sense of their class position and daily experienes may have helped readers to understand how inequality was exacerberated whilst benefitting the elite and political classes. 

In other words, we should probably read the subsequent volumes of the series. There Corvington would have had more sources to draw from to paint a more complete social picture of the Haitian capital. Nonetheless, this is a fine start for a basic overview of how Port-au-Prince did evolve in the 19th century. Corvington is careful with sources, often relying on newspapers from the period in question, foreigners' accounts, memoires, and using maps and photographs to display the changes over time. Perhaps engaging with oral traditions and family histories, especially among families frrm the lower-class or middle classes could have helped to fill in the gaps for much of the 19th century.

Les Thazar

Fernand Hibbert's Les Thazar is an endlessly entertaining social satire of the Port-au-prince upper classes. Written over a century ago, it depicts the long-lost Haiti Thomas of our forebears, focusing on the corrupt and venal upper-classes in the capital. The Thazar family, once rich, have lost their fortune. Madame Thazar pushes for the marriage of her daughter, Cecile, to a wealthy German so the family can maintain their status and rank in Port-au-Prince society. In order to accomplish this, the materialistic wife  is willing to sacrifice anything and everything to keep up appearances and ensure her two children will not descend the social ladder. Needless to say, the Thazar home in Turgeau also attracts a number of suitors for the hand of Cecile (as well as family friends, mostly from the Haitians of their social rank), providing the narrator an excuse to satirize various types of the Haitian bourgeoisie and corrupt politicians. This is very much a dialogue-driven narrative, with a tragic conclusion to its satirical content. One cannot help but wonder if Haitian elites a century ago had such dim hopes for Haiti then, what are they thinking today?

Foreigners, particularly Germans and French, also provide cannon fodder for the satire as their outsider view of Haiti provides great comedic relief. Ravet, for instance, has the most difficult experience trying to get his landlord, Madame Thazar, to fix his leaky roof. During his long discourse with Madame Thazar, we learn about his disobedient domestic, who is also a part-time tailor, and the various ways in which life in Haiti is upside down. Or, for that matter, the constant questions from Cresson, who is following Ravet around Port-au-Prince on the streetcar one day. In the end, Ravet agrees to pay for the repairs to the roof, but it is another instance of Haiti as a an aberrant place to the foreign mind. The question of race is often part of this, with Haitians speaking of news of lynchings in the US, Booker T. Washington (perhaps a message of vocational schools and practicality for the Haitian educational system, instead of effete and useless bourgeois like those in the novel?), the Anglo-Boer war in South Africa and British imperialism's positive impact on the "natives") and a naturalized Haitian who renounces citizenship, Alphonse Laubepin. Alphonse Laubepin, who is presumably of mixed racial origins from the French Antilles, refuses to see himself as one of the black race, and is constantly reminded of his racial origins by Cresson. This amusing episode is likely an allusion to the pattern of some mixed-race immigrants of the French Antilles refusing to take Haitian citizenship and using their status as French subjects for additional privileges in Haiti.  Of course, the iniquitous color question also rears its ugly head among Haitians themselves, a "political" issue which shapes how the bourgeois characters relate to each other and their non-elite compatriots in matters of love, class, language, and culture. 

Impressively, Hibbert transports the reader to the Port-au-Prince of the early 20th century. The German commercial and financial dominance of Haiti was palpable, and foreigners were protected from the excesses and corruption of the Haitian government better than Haitian citizens. Unsurprisingly, Madame Thazar prefers to marry her daughter to the German Schlieden than any Haitian suitor, reasoning that they will be unable to look after her material interests with the utmost security. Lamertume, a darker-hued Haitian "nephew" of Monsieur Thazar, is ambitious but utterly lacking in honor, wealth, and merit, so he is quickly rejected. Lionel Brion, who descends from a great family and was educated in France, also wishes to marry her, but is similarly rejected for not being wealthy. The "bourgeois" of Haiti are, in short, vain, corrupt, materialistic, and concerned only for themselves or their primal instincts. And, while Madame Thazar, Titus Baudouin, Cresson, Madame Apice, and a plethora of the characters in the novel exemplify all the aforementioned flaws, counter-examples such as Lionel Brion and Dr. Remo prove the exception to the rule. Unfortunately, in Haiti mediocrity and corruption reign supreme, so exceptional men of the upper-classes, who would and could transform and place Haiti on the path to progress, are unable to achieve their goals or find happiness. Lionel Brion never recovers from his love and loss of Cecile, Delhi has isolated himself at Mariani with a lower-class woman he abuses as his lover and servant. 

Perhaps like the case of Romulus, another novel by Hibbert but set in Miragoane during the "disturbances" of 1883, Hibbert was driven by exploring the theme of the frustrated bourgeois reformers, whose hopes are dashed by Haitian reality. Trevier or the proponents of Bazelais, in that novel, and Brion, in Les Thazar, are both ruined by their experiences, seemingly common to anyone who endeavors to go against the grain of materialism and mediocrity. Hibbert appears to infuse both novels with a pervasive pessimism as the Haitian bourgeois male has proven himself unable to save Haiti or those who should be theirs (their families, and wives). Another contemporary writer of Hibbert's, Justin Lherisson, also explored this theme even more humorously in La Famille Des Pitite Caille, where the rise and fall of a bourgeois family demonstrates the vacuity, corruption and  avarice of the bourgeois paterfamilias. It would take another generation before Haitian writers would look to the masses, with Jacques Roumain being part of that transition through the peasant novel. Perhaps not coincidentally, Roumain married the daughter of Hibbert, and it took Roumain's generation to begin the shift from the elite-focus of Hibbert. 

African American Emigration to Haiti

James Theodore Holly's son, Arthur, opened a clinic. Arthur Holly also contributed to the Ethnological Movement and esoterica.

Although perhaps more than 15,000 African Americans lived in Haiti for at least some time across the 19th century, little has been said of those who chose to stay in the Caribbean republic. A plethora of historians have studied the causes and context of the two major waves of black emigration to Haiti, but few have said much of any detail on the descendants of those who decided to permanently reside there. Scholars disagree on how many stayed, and since there is a wide disagreement on the total numbers who came in the 1820s (estimates run from 6,000 to 13,000), one must make an educated guess on the total numbers of black Americans who were either long-term residents or naturalized Haitians. Of course, tropical disease, climate, and many eventually leaving Haiti significantly reduced the black American population. Besides neighborhoods like Bourg Anglais in Port-au-Prince and Protestant churches in various Haitian towns, African Americans appear to have blended into the general population after a few generations. Unlike the Samana Americans in the Dominican Republic, descendants of the same black emigrants of the 1820s, black settlers in Haiti proper seem to have left fewer distinctive traces. 

Bishop John Hurst of the AME Church was born in Haiti. He was a descendant of African American immigrants. Like some other Haitians of African American descent (Hezekiah Grice's son, Francis, for example), he was educated in the US and died there. The AME's growth in Haiti and the Dominican Republic often relied on locals of African American heritage or West Indian migrants.

After attempting to track down individual African-Americans who emigrated, and consulting a variety of secondary and primary sources, it is possible that a few thousand chose to stay in the Black Republic. One can reach this estimate based on a fraction of the 6,000-13,000 emigrants remaining in Haiti from the 1820s onward. Some scholars have suggested that many or even most of these migrants stayed (or could not afford to pay for passage back to the US) while others propose a lower proportion remaining. However, a lower estimate is safer until more evidence is unearthed. It is difficult to imagine  even a third of the estimated numbers of African American emigrants of the 1820s staying in Haiti. Their numbers would have created a more lasting impact in Haitian towns, since most sources indicate that's where they eventually chose to settle. Later, of the 2000+ who came in between 1859 and the end of the US Civil War, perhaps a few hundred remained. This can be guessed from a source cited by Dixon that located over 200 African-American from the Geffrard-supported emigration program still in Haiti by 1864-1865. Since some of the 450 Louisiana Creoles who came to Haiti around the same time may have decided to remain, it is possible that over 200 African Americans became Haitians. This means that at least several hundred or a thousand stayed. They would have either assimilated into the larger population or joined West Indians and older African-Americans in the Protestant communities of urban Haiti. In addition to the organized emigration of African-Americans and Louisiana Creoles of Color, continuous individual or small-scale movements occurred throughout the century.

Part of a message by Pierre-Aristide Desdunes of New Orleans about Vodou and visting his cousin's property in Haiti. The Desdunes of New Orleans maintained contact with their relatives in Haiti, including a Haitian senator. Emile Desdunes and Pierre-Aristide's father returned to Haiti multiple times, with the former sent to Haiti for his education. Emile Desdunes later became a colonel in the Haitian military and an agent for Louisiana Creole emigration to Haiti in the 1850s. Another Desdunes was also prominent among Louisiana Creoles of color: Rodolphe Desdunes , who was part of the Comité des Citoyens.

Estimates from the size of the Protestant denominations, which also included West Indians or whites from Europe, would indicate that by the 1830s, Port-au-Prince may have had well over 100 or more African American residents. Jacmel, Cap-Haitien, Saint Marc, Les Cayes, and other Haitian towns almost certainly had their own communities, often based around early Protestant churches and denominations. This probably boosts the total number, and if one counts African Americans in Samana and other parts of eastern Hispaniola, one can easily imagine at least several hundred African American residents  or long-term sojourners in Haiti by the 1830s. Most were probably the emigrants who came through Boyer's supported plan. Individual African-Americans or smaller groups who came continuously also contributed to the black American population of the island, such as John Bell Hepburn, who emigrated to Haiti in the 1830s. Thorald Burnham and Julie Winch are among the few scholars to highlight the continuous nature of African American emigration to Haiti since abolitionists, free blacks, and emancipated slaves came singly or in smaller groups to Haitian free soil until the the end of the US Civil War. Some, perhaps sailors, educated free blacks, and those of Saint-Dominguan origin, may have returned to Haiti between 1804-1820. Silvain Simonise, for instance, was born in South Carolina and after his completing his education in France, decided Haiti was a better home than the US. Loring Dewey's correspondence also refers to the presence of free blacks from the US in Haiti prior to the Boyer emigration project. In some cases, African Americans came to Haiti after Emancipation.

Alonzo Holly, son of James Theodore Holly. He studied in Europe and the US, but spoke on Haiti's behalf during the Occupation to UNIA audiences. All of Holly's children have left a mark in Haitian medicine, religion, or intellectual thought.

Another complication of tracking African Americans in 19th century Haiti is the question of Louisiana Creoles. Creoles of color retained links with relatives in Haiti, and, according to Duplantier, perhaps 450 emigrated there between 1859 and the end of the US Civil War. Examples of Creoles of color traveling to Haiti include Pierre-Aristide Desdunes, who recounted visiting his Haitian cousins. Another Desdunes, Emile, was educated in Haiti and chose Haitian citizenship. Emile Desdune was the initial agent for Louisiana Creole emigration to Haiti under Emperor Soulouque. Other Creoles, such as Joseph Colastin Rousseau, also chose Haiti as their homeland, and remained cognizant of their ancestral and cultural ties with Haitians. These groups, unlike free blacks from the antebellum US, were Francophone and predominantly Catholic, which made it even easier for them to assimilate into Haitian society. The fairer-skinned among them may have excelled as colorism possibly assisted in their assimilation. Moreover, their presence in Haiti was a topic of interest in Port-au-Prince newspapers, highlighting familial ties between prominent Haitians and Louisiana Creoles. Nevertheless, arriving at an accurate estimate of the numbers who chose to stay in Haiti is difficult, and may require a comparison with Creole emigration to Mexico during the same period.

Prince Saunders was one of the most prominent African-Americans who came to Haiti in the early 19th century. An educator initially associated with Henri Christophe, he stayed in Haiti to serve the government until his death in 1839.

Since we are assuming that at least several hundred African Americans chose to become Haitians, predominantly in urban areas, one can begin to tackle the question of their influence and legacy in Haiti. Through the AME, Baptist, Episcopalian, and Wesleyan Methodist churches, African American influence in Haiti probably surpassed their actual numbers. The AME Church, an independent African American Protestant denomination, included prominent members among the African American settlers. John Allen, Bishop Richard Allen's son, chose to emigrate, where his skills in printing were valued. Although Allen eventually returned to the US, the African Methodist Episcopal church sent clergy to cater to the spiritual needs of the emigrants in Haiti. Other African American Protestant settlers likewise influenced Haiti's spiritual terrain by introducing camp ground meetings and bible study sessions at their homes in Morne-à-Tuf. Indeed, African-American Protestants built perhaps the earliest chapel in Haiti in the 1830s, which Corvington claimed could hold up to 200 people. Corvington also mentions small schools established by African Americans in the area, which may have contributed to the retention of the English language and Protestant faiths among descendants of the settlers. Some of the names associated with black American families in that time were remembered by Joseph Jérémie in his memoir: Jackson, Jacsin, Cook, Day, Jones, Horton.

Septima Clark, an African American educator and activist, had a mother and uncle who lived in Haiti. Her mother lived there for less than 8 years, but her relatives may have stayed in Haiti longer. Her mother's brother worked for a cigar factory there as a sampler before eventually returning to the US.

African American Protestants were also active in other parts of Haiti besides the capital. Jean Price-Mars's father, for instance, converted to the Baptist faith because African Americans were active in forming early churches in Dondon, Cap-Haitien, and Grande Riviere du Nord. Indeed, according to Jacques C. Antoine's study of Price-Mars, it was an African American, Samuel Waring, who came to Haiti to enter the coffee trade, who established the Baptist church in Price-Mars's hometown. Thomas Paul, another important black Baptist in Haiti, was active in the 1820s. For the Wesleyan Methodists, who were established in Haiti quite early and included some prominent local families (Pressoir, Bauduy, and Louis-Joseph Janvier's grandfather), African Americans were also present. Indeed, a Pressoir married an African American, suggestive of close ties between Haitian converts and African American immigrants. The growth of their denomination in the later decades of the 19th century partly relied on locals of African American descent, such as Alexandre Jackson and Joseph Hogarth, for native clergy, educators, and preachers. Similarly, the Episcopalians under James Theodore Holly recruited two native-born Haitians who were probably of African American origin: Pierre Jones and Charles Benedict, who were educated in the US and contributed to Haiti as educators, school inspectors, and reverends of the Episcopalians. Theodora Holly also worked in education, suggesting a close link between African American Protestants and intellectual (moral?) elevation of Haiti. 

Theodora Holly, daughter of James Theodore Holly, spent time in the US contributed to the African American press articles about her Haitian homeland. She was active in the UNIA and connected African American and Haitian women through the International Council of Women of the Darker Races of the World.

For some of the African American emigrants, particularly James Theodore Holly, black America had to contribute to the moral elevation of Haiti through antebellum notions of Anglo-Saxon civilization's superiority. Protestantism was perceived as superior to Catholicism and Vodou, and African Americans could be agents for the salvation of Haiti as the black nationality. Of course, many Haitian intellectuals also saw in Haiti the rehabilitation of the black race or shared the civilizationist discourse of African American black nationalists. However, most Haitian intellectuals were either nominally Catholic or avoided overt references to religion (unless denigrating Vodou and African 'atavism'). Thus, African American Protestants contributed to a distinct form of black nationalist thought in Haiti through their religiously-informed worldview. Haitian Protestants, like Louis Joseph Janvier, came to share their preference for Protestantism over Catholicism, but never relinquished the idea of Haiti as part of the "Latin" world. Nevertheless, the African American and West Indian Protestant presence acted as a bridge between African American and Haitian thought by the rise of Garveyism, further cementing Haiti's role as a symbolic central node of black intellectual thought, despite the small numbers of actual UNIA adherents in Haiti. It also facilitated Haitian-African American cultural contact and exchange, perhaps making things easier for Haitians of Protestant extraction, such as Price-Mars, to visit Tuskegee and find inspiration in racial uplift, Booker T. Washington and African American leadership.

Article from Le Progrès on Louisiana Creoles and African American immigrants in Haiti. Haiti under Geffrard introduced some urban amenities while also experiencing a brief economic boom from the rise of cotton prices during the US Civil War. African American immigrants were believed to be best suited to drastically improve Haiti's cotton industry in the Artibonite region.

Beyond the religious impact, which, unsurprisingly, influenced intellectual and political thought, African Americans in Haiti also left behind a presence in the trades, crafts, and urban laboring masses. According to a source cited by Nicholls, African Americans contributed to an improvement in the quality of Haitian trades and artisan occupations. Thus, even if the vast majority of African American immigrants, who were were northern free blacks, abandoned agricultural pursuits, their intended purpose in Haiti, many left behind a positive legacy in urban Haiti. An apprentice of James Forten, for instance, was a prominent sailmaker in Cap-Haitien mentioned by Benjamin Hunt. Louisiana Creoles of color were associated with trades in New Orleans, and those who stayed in Haiti likely contributed to the improvement of standards. Many found work in other sectors, such as Edouard Osmont of New Orleans, who ran a restaurant in 1860s Port-au-Prince. Robert Wainwright, according to Corvington, enjoyed a favorable reputation as a cabinetmaker for bourgeois families in Port-au-Prince. Black artisans would have interacted with their Haitian counterparts in Bel Air or Morne-a-Tuf, perhaps sharing skills or marrying locals who could have expanded business and clientele networks. If the black immigrants were fair-skinned, it would not be surprising if local Haitians saw them favorably and marriage between the two groups could have assisted in the upward social mobility of the petit-bourgeois. Freemasonry probably contributed to their assimilation, too, as many free blacks and Haitians were members of lodges. James Theodore Holly himself was a member, and performed funerary rites for Freemasons of different religious backgrounds.

This article from Le Progrès alludes to the familial ties between Creoles and Haitians.

Among tailors, shoemakers, and bakers, Benjamin Hunt identified African Americans or Creoles as running the best establishments in Port-au-Prince ca. 1860. These African American artisans in the lucrative trades, like the later Cuban immigrants, therefore improved local standards and may have introduced new forms of fraternal organization and mutual aid associations. They also played a pivotal role in the urban transformation of Port-au-Prince as new restaurants, neighborhoods, and early attempts at modernization required forms of labor that the local population either could not meet or perform. Of course, Haitian towns by the 1820s had local artisans and popular quarters such as Bel Air. But African American and Louisiana Creoles could find success as more reputable artisans or by filling in niches for new services. For instance, most of the Louisiana Creole emigrants were masons, bricklayers, builders, carpenters, tailors, or shoemakers, which meant they could have provided a number of services for the bourgeois residents of Haitian cities. Some may have also used their background as mechanics for repairing mills or other machinery associated with sugar production and distilleries. Like the Cubans or West Indian immigrants, some African Americans could do quite well in Haiti. Indeed, John Hepburn, who became a prominent commerçant, ran the finest hotel and magasin in 1860s Port-au-Prince, located near Place Geffrard. He is credited by Corvington for introducing ice cream and may have been the wealthiest African American in 19th century Haiti. Born to a white father and enslaved mother, Hepburn, like his brother, Moses, who stayed in northern Virginia, inherited some of his father's wealth, which, combined with his knowledge of English, facilitated his rise as a trader with connections to British or North American firms. African American medical professionals, artists, and similar educated professionals could also thrive in Haiti.

Reverend Pierre E. Jones was one of the native clergymen trained by James Theodore Holly. He was educated in Philadelphia with another native Haitian. Based on his surname, it is likely that Jones was a descendant of African Americans, perhaps the very same Jones who were part of the African American Protestant community in Morne-a-Tuf.

African Americans were also engaged in a variety of occupations among the "proto-proletariat" of Port-au-Prince and other towns. Many found work as servants for English or Anglophone residents and companies. McKenzie, whose Notes on Haiti are invaluable for information on Haiti during the Boyer years, alluded to his African-American servants. McKenzie and other foreign sources alluded to the ubiquitous presence of African-Americans in Port-au-Prince. Hunt identified them among the rag-pickers in Port-au-Prince, or the day laborers. Burnham's analysis of marriage records found many employed as washerwomen, ropemakers, shoemakers, or leatherworkers. Among the day laborers and urban poor of them, some were described as indolent, like Haitian natives. This probably reflects the class bias of Haitian elites and class or racial biases of white foreigners' accounts, who saw in the Haitian poor alleged racial characters of tropical laziness and vagrancy. However, even by the late 19th century, Port-au-Prince and Cap-Haitien were developing poor quarters where much of the population struggled to find work or lived a meager life. Some black immigrants from the US entered this category, and, consequently, become harder to track. Through their Protestant networks and benevolent societies, one may surmise that such immigrants and their descendants have shaped 19th century working-class culture.

Michel Mauleart Monton Michel Mauleart Monton was born in New Orleans to a Haitian father. He was raised in Haiti and became an immortal figure by composing the music for Oswald Durand's Choucoune. Monton's life is a great example of continued links between Louisiana Creoles and Haiti. 

In terms of agriculture, the Louisiana Creoles probably did not invest much in land. Yet other sources identify them as bringing machinery to Haiti for agricultural production. Some may have retained familial ties to landowning families, like the Desdunes. Such connections may have enabled Creoles access to large estates where they could have experimented with revivals of sugar production or cotton and tobacco. Some African Americans also pooled their resources together and achieved moderate success. Fanning, for instance, came across an article from a Quaker publication about 8 black immigrant families near Port-au-Prince who collectively owned land and sold produce at the Port-au-Prince market. Their frugality and cooperative farm may have made them more successful than other African American farmers who worked as sharecroppers on Haitian estates or small-scale farmers who had to deal with peasant neighbors stealing their crops and animals. Given their unfamiliarity with agriculture and urban backgrounds, it is not surprising that most moved to cities. The example of James Theodore Holly's initial colony at Drouillard demonstrated quite clearly the toll of tropical disease on African Americans, too. In the early 1820s emigration wave, African Americans were also blamed for introducing smallpox, which devastated Haitians and the immigrants. 

Advertisement for John Allen, a prominent African-American who came to Haiti in the 1820s and stayed longer than most. His hope for free produce movement and manufacturing in Haiti came to a bust, which may have prompted his eventual return to the US.

Despite not knowing exactly how many African Americans permanently settled in Haiti across the 19th century, it was likely at least 1000. Rural migration appears to have largely failed, but many African-Americans stayed in the various cities and towns. Families who descend from these migrants include the Hogarth, Jones, Holly, Wainwright, Jackson, Hurst, Simonise, Day, Horton, Gordon, Cook and many others. While they occupy a prominent place in the history of Protestantism in Haiti, many were active links between Black America and Haiti well into the 20th century. The legacy of James Theodore Holly and his Haitian-born or raised children best exemplify this trend. Through their activism and intellectual engagement with Black America, they're the best example of Haiti-African American transnational links. Arthur Holly even became a major figure in the Ethnological movement, part of a shift among Haitian intellectuals with regards to Vodou and Haiti's African heritage. Their Protestant congregations pushed the Haitian state toward greater religious liberty, and many members became active in various trades. Unfortunately, African Americans in Haiti were not able to benefit from a government like that of Henri Christophe, which could have pushed for stronger industrialization through textile production, education, agrarian reform, and shipping. Just imagine if African Americans like Forten and other prosperous free blacks would have been able to support Haitian industry and reforms to industrialize and make Haiti less dependent on the Western powers? Sadly, by the time large-scale black American migration to Haiti developed, Boyer and subsequent Haitian governments were ensuring such an alternative would be impossible. 

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West Indians in Haiti: Anglophone Caribbean Immigration

Joseph Robert Love, a prominent Bahamian residing in Port-au-Prince during the 1880s. Initially working with James Theodore Holly, Love involved himself in Haitian political affairs and spoke for West Indians in Haiti.

Although the West Indian presence in Haiti began with runaway slaves fleeing to free Haitian soil before emancipation, emigration in the British West Indies took on new dimensions after 1838. Prior to Panama, Cuba, the Dominican Republic and Central America becoming popular destinations for intra-Caribbean migrants of the West Indies, Haiti was a common choice, particularly among Jamaicans. Fraser estimates the total number of West Indians in Haiti during the 19th century at 3000, although many of these people came and went throughout the period. Another source, based on Protestant estimates of the British subjects residing in the Black Republic in the 1870s, and cited in Griffith's dissertation on Methodism in Haiti, puts the number at 2000 Jamaicans in Port-au-Prince and 800 Bahamians in Cap-Haitien and Port-de-Paix. These West Indian migrants often formed families with Haitians, played a pivotal role in the early Protestant conversion of the native population, and filled a niche in the Haitian urban economy as merchants, artisans, mechanics, tailors, shoemakers, and cabinetmakers. Thus, even though the number of British West Indians in Haiti was quickly eclipsed by the numbers migrating for work opportunities in other parts of the circum-Caribbean, their conspicuous presence in the various port towns of Haiti reveal another dimension of intra-regional migration. Through Protestantism, they left a cultural impact on Haiti, while taking with them notions of black autonomy, the Haitian Revolution, and, in some cases, political organizing experience.

Advertisement for a garage that employed Jamaican mechanic Ernest Burkett for several years. Arnold Braun would later sell the business to a Haitian, and Burkett worked as the chief mechanic.

Perhaps the best source of information on the legacy of British West Indian subjects in Haitian history is Philippe Jean-Francois's contribution to Cap-Haitien: Excursions dans le temps, based largely on oral histories provided by his own family and others in Cap-Haitien who remember the koko presence in the historic city. The grandson of an immigrant tailor from Turks & Caicos, Jean-Francois relied on his mother and other descendants of migrants to account for their coming to northern Haiti, the economic and social dynamics of their presence in Cap-Haitien, and relations with the local population. Additional sources on the history of the Bahamas also point to merchants in Inagua establishing trade networks with Port-de-Paix and Okap. Haitian ships from Tortuga and the north exchanged agricultural produce, handicraft, and rum for currency and manufactured goods. The arrangement worked well for the southern Bahamas, which had easier access to northern Haitian ports than Nassau, perhaps well into the 20th century. Due to this trade network, some Bahamian families already had Haitian ancestry or resided in Cap-Haitien. Jean-Francois's account provides additional details on some of these Bahamians and Turks & Caicos migrants, many of whom worked in the trades. One of the earliest West Indian migrants in Cap-Haitien, James Cartright, arrived in 1870, while others arrived in subsequent decades, such as the Moss family or Jean-Francois's grandfather. An additional wave of West Indians also arrived to work in Haiti during the US Occupation, when their English and skilled trades were in demand. For example, a Jamaican, Alan Miller, worked for the electric company in Cap-Haitien. Other Jamaicans worked for HASCO, Plantation Dauphin, or some of the new industries that grew during the US Occupation. Some Jamaicans appear to have come as English teachers, like Miss Burke, who stayed in Port-au-Prince to manage an orphanage. Others worked as mechanics for the National Railroad Company, particularly on the Gonaives-Verrettes line and the Port-au-Prince-St. Marc line.



In 1893, James Moses is listed as an artisan in the Carenage area of Cap-Haitien, known for its Anglophone Caribbean character in the 19th and early 20th centuries.

Jean-Francois's essay indicates a degree of assimilation for West Indian immigrants, or at least for those in northern Haiti. Many retained their Anglican or other Protestant faith, as well as a tightly-knit network of families who supported each other for funerals and other community causes. However, their culinary tastes quickly adapted to the Haitian palate, and many married locals, as the case of Jean-Francois demonstrates. Perhaps they maintained informal benevolent societies, and their Protestant faith may have distanced them from local Haitian artisans, such as Coeurs-Unis, which leaned more heavily towards the Catholic Church. According to Fraser, two examples of benevolent associations established by a West Indian in Haiti failed as the founder absconded with the funds, but it is likely others existed through church networks or based on regional origins. Through their religious connections and social networks, they likely practiced some form of mutual aid. Others, perhaps tailors and similar master artisans, probably took on locals as apprentices, which may have diminished the social distance between West Indians and Haitians. Unfortunately, Jean-Francois does not examine that question,  but Péan's masterful trilogy on the hstory of Cap-Haitien describes the system of apprenticeship.

Nonetheless, descendants of many of these West Indian migrants appear in later newspaper accounts, such as a Nelie Cartright as Carnival Queen in Cap-Haitien. The Brights, Lightbourns, Bakers, Rokers, etc. have left an impact on various aspects of social life in Cap-Haitien. Indeed, according to Jean-Francois, their presence in the northern metropolis was strong enough to define Carenage as their quarter, where English and the various West Indian Creoles were overheard. Some of these West Indian artisans who arrived in the late 19th century probably took on Haitian apprentices, and may have appealed to some Capois families who recalled Henri Christophe's preference for the English language and promotion of industry. Of course, unregulated numbers of such West Indians could also be a cause for alarm, as Reveil revealed in an 1892 article on the hawkers and artisans of the West Indies in Cap-Haitien. The same article refers to similar conspicuous Antillean activity in other Haitian cities of the era. 

1892 article on the state of two habitations near Cap-Haitien. Vaudreuil, managed by the Etienne brothers, used more than 80 laborers from the Antilles on the estate. It is likely that these workers were from the Anglophone Caribbean. 

Interestingly, a few attempts at large-scale agriculture and concessions for exports also involved West Indian laborers. Fraser refers to the Maunders concession, which for a Tortuga agricultural venture in the early 1870s employed a  West Indian labor force. The project floundered, but some of these workers may have stayed in Tortuga and northern Haiti, perhaps joining other Caribbean immigrants in the 1870s. The Vaudreuil habitation, near Cap-Haitien, is also described as employing over 80 Antillean workers in 1892. In light of past attempts at using British West Indian laborers and Cap-Haitien's ties with Bahamian networks, it is very likely that these 80 or more workers were from the Anglophone Caribbean or British West Indies. Regrettably for the state of northern agriculture, the association of the Etienne brothers that successfully managed Vaudreuil fell apart in a few years. Perhaps these Antilleans joined their counterparts in Carenage? Or they may have moved on to better work prospects in the Dominican Republic, which by this time was experiencing immigration of cocolos to work in the burgeoning sugar industry. Regardless of the outcome, the vast majority of West Indian migrants in Haiti were not rural laborers or farmers. Most were concentrated in the urban areas, where they developed defined quarters and, eventually, assimilated into their host society through intermarriage and length of residence. Indeed, popular neighborhoods of Port-au-Prince also developed West Indian or perhaps African-American quarters, such as bourg anglais in Port-au-Prince. Smith describes the West Indians of Port-au-Prince as residing in areas like Port-au-Prince's Bel-Air, where they likely carried on social intercourse with the Haitian urban poor and laboring classes.

Miss Burke, a Jamaican who came to Haiti in the 1920s to teach English. She also ran an orphanage.

Many likely worked side by side with local artisans in Port-au-Prince's Bel-Air or Morne à Tuf. In Port-au-Prince, West Indians, especially Jamaicans, were known as drivers. Those not engaged in manual labor or artisan professions, however, included prominent merchants, such as the Crosswell or Cole families, who interfered in political conflicts in the 1880s. The 20th century brought Oswald Brandt, a Jamaican of German extraction who became the wealthiest man in Haiti. Some Jamaicans came as pastors of Protestant churches or for missionary work, such as the Jamaican Baptist Missionary society's work in Jacmel, Saint-Marc, and Cap-Haitien. Nosirhel Lherisson's Baptist schools and proselytizing in the Jacmel area was partly funded and supported by Jamaican Baptists. Indeed, Lherisson's proselytizing was likely the most successful of Protestant missions in the late 19th century and early 20th centuries, claiming around 2000 local converts. Jamaican residents in Jacmel were certainly present to aid in such efforts and to lead congregations comprised of fellow West Indians. In terms of total conversions, these Jamaican missions were not altogether successful, but Jamaican Baptists missions may have played a role in the Protestant faith of Jean Price-Mars, born in Grande-Riviere du Nord to a Protestant father in a region visited by these Baptist missionaries. Consequently, the early legacy of Protestant missions led by West Indians introduced new ideas and social relations in different parts of Haiti, probably spreading notions of the  Protestant work ethic, gender relations, and comportment in provincial Haiti. These West Indians may have also carried with them notions of respectability and black nationalist-informed perspectives on Christian faith. Perhaps they shaped the early examples of the types of Protestant Haitian peasants described by Bastien during the 1930s and 1940s.

Nossirhel Lhérisson, a Haitian convert to the Baptist Church, enjoyed support from Jamaican Baptists to proselytize across the Jacmel area. Source: Jacmel: sa contribution à l'Histoire d'Haïti

Some prominent West Indian migrants included Joseph Robert Love, a Bahamian who eventually settled in Jamaica. His experience in Haiti shaped his political ideology and eventually caused his departure. Nonetheless, he petitioned the British government on behalf of West Indians residing in Haiti, many of whom were blamed by Salomon for the 1883 attempted revolt. Love later lectured on Haitian history in Jamaica, and his newspaper shaped a young Marcus Garvey. Perhaps unsurprisingly, West Indians were not represented well by British consuls. Their Haitian-born children were denied the right of British citizenship, an episode described in Griffith's work on the Methodists in Haiti. This indicates a sizable number of West Indian descendants raised in Haiti, probably the very same people who would express an interest in Garveyism during the US Occupation. Thus, Garveyism in Haiti returned to its roots through Love's legacy. Theodora Holly, the daughter of a famous  African-American Episcopal Bishop in Haiti, appears to be the most engaged Haitian to involve herself with the UNIA (Elie Garcia was also involved), but the Episcopalians and other Protestants of Haiti, which included many West Indians and their progeny, would have been the followers of the UNIA through their Negro World newspaper. During the US Occupation, other West Indians residing in Cap-Haitien and Port-de-Paix may have followed news of Garvey, too. For instance, a bar run by Marcy Myers, a Bahamian in Port-de-Paix, served American servicemen and other Bahamian traders, stevedores, and deckhands. These networks may have solidified a small base for Garveyism.

Hurst, whose mother was a descendant of African-American immigrants, was AME Bishop in Haiti. His father was, if not of African-American origins, West Indian. The AME Church in Hispaniola, first brought by African-American immigrants in the 1820s, grew in the late 19th and early 20th centuries through West Indian immigration.

Nearing the end of the US Occupation and the proceeding decades, the Jamaican colonie is referenced several times in Port-au-Prince's newspapers. In 1931, Le Matin expressed concern over Jamaicans leaving Cuba for Haiti. This is likely the context in which the Daily Gleaner published articles about Jamaican immigration as a matter of concern to Haitian authorities, alluding to Haitian attempts to limit Jamaican immigration in Haiti. Unlike Cuba and the Dominican Republic, however, Haitian attempts to block Jamaican immigration were not racial, but due to a fear of their impact on the poor already struggling in Port-au-Prince. Other Jamaicans who came in the 1930s and 1940s were not so unfortunate. For example, Jocelyn McCalla led the effort to launch friendly soccer tournaments between Haitian and Jamaican teams. McCalla also hosted several Jamaican visitors in Port-au-Prince. Ernest Burkett, a Jamaican chief mechanic at the West Indies Garage, appears in the press. Burkett had been in Haiti since the 1920s or 1930s, when the business was owned by Arnold Braun. Braun later sold it to a Haitian, who directed it in partnership with Burkett. Other Jamaicans appeared in the press in terms of high-profile visitors to Haiti, travels back and forth between the two islands, or, in one case, a Jamaican employee of Plantation Dauphin defending the Black Republic from bad press in the Daily Gleaner. The Duvalierist era probably led many in the Jamaican community of Port-au-Prince to leave, either for North America or Jamaica. Burkett himself was expelled for some time by Francois Duvalier, and others of West Indian descent likely found better opportunities abroad. Like Hubert Bright of Cap-Haitien, who worked as an interpreter in Anglophone Canada, more remunerative opportunities in Canada or the US acted as pull factors for emigration.

George Angus, one of the Jamaican Baptists active in the St. Marc area. He married a Haitian.

Perhaps due to racial consanguinity and their ultimately small numbers (possibly no greater than 3000 across a century), the Anglophone West Indian presence does not seem to have sparked the ire of Haitians. A few references to their predominance in some of the trades likely reflected Haitian frustrations over the foreign dominance of nearly every aspect of the economy by the end of the 19th century. References to attempts to limit their numbers in 1931 (around the same time Haitian frustrations over the Chinese presence manifest) illustrate some tension, but that was likely in relation to the Depression. Other than these few instances of anger or anxiety about local labor, perhaps also associated with the West Indians working for the US Occupation, they appear to be a welcome population who have assimilated into Haitian society. Of course, the occupational niches filled by West Indians in Haiti were less attractive in the years after the Occupation, and since so few were engaged in rural labor, the West Indian presence in Haiti was only a fraction of the plethora who labored in Central America or Cuba. Nevertheless, the history of Anglophone Caribbean immigration in Haiti impacted the spread of Protestantism, urban tradesmen, and black nationalist sentiment for both Haiti and the Caribbean.

Puerto Ricans in Haiti: 1870-1934

Betances, friend of Firmin, fierce defender of Haiti, and almost certainly the source of the 1870s movement of Puerto Ricans to Haiti. Residing in Jacmel between 1870 and 1872, Betances saw Haiti and Caribbean unity as central for the liberation of Cuba and Puerto Rico. His brother and nephew, Adolfo and Felipe Betances, also settled in Jacmel. Basora, a fellow revolutionary in the Comite Revolutionacio de Puerto Rico, also lived in Haiti during this time.

Although a significantly smaller presence in Haiti than Cubans, the Puerto Rican residents of Haiti during the 19th and early 20th centuries provide another dimension of intra-Caribbean migration. The Dominican Republic was, as one would suspect, a more popular destination for Puerto Rican emigrants, with over 3000 residing there by the 1930s. Geography, language, and opportunity made the eastern neighbor the recipient of larger streams of Puerto Rican migrants. References to their colonia in various towns connected to the burgeoning Dominican sugar industry allude to their organizations, dances, and friendly relations with Dominican residents. For Haiti, however, the significantly smaller Puerto Rican presence was connected to the Cuban Wars of Independence. Later, small numbers of Puerto Ricans remained or settled in Haiti to launch businesses or work for American companies during the US Occupation. According to Renda's Taking Haiti, one Puerto Rican, Pedro del Valle, even served in the Marines during that period.

Ramón Frade, illustrious Puerto Rican painter, lived in Port-au-Prince for some years.

The story begins with Ramon Emeterio Betances, renowned father of Puerto Rican independence and supporter of various campaigns to liberate Cuba and Puerto Rico. He was central in the early Puerto Rican presence in Haiti. Living in Jacmel from 1870 to 1872, Betances, his brother, Adolfo, and Dr. Francisco Basora, were part of this early wave. Betances and Basora were tied to the attempts to support struggles in Cuba and Puerto Rico with aid from Santo Domingo and Haiti. Masonic connections appear to have opened doors for Betances, who lectured at least once in a Port-au-Prince lodge. While in Haiti, Betances came to a greater appreciation for the Haitian Revolution, particularly Toussaint Louverture and Alexandre Petion. Unlike Hostos, who settled in Santo Domingo and usually excluded Haiti from his vision of a Caribbean Federation, Betances saw in the example of Haiti, especially Petion, republican and abolitionist virtue. Addressing Cuban and Puerto Rican nationalists in Haiti, New York, and elsewhere, Betances unequivocally embraced Haiti's revolutionary legacy as a model for republican statecraft, even praising Petion's land reforms. 

Marriage notice from Le Matin mentioning 2 families of Puerto Rican origin. Blas Vieras and Guillermo Gonzalez were associated with Club Betances in Port-au-Prince during the 1890s.

Besides Betances, his family, and Basora in Jacmel, there almost certainly were small numbers of Puerto Ricans among the Spanish-speaking artisans in Haiti. Some of the shoemakers arriving in Port-au-Prince during and after the Ten Years War appear to be of Puerto Rican origin. Unfortunately, most sources comment on the predominantly Cuban character of this migration, making it difficult to say with precision what proportion of this migration consisted of Puerto Ricans. Geography, or perhaps, familial origins in Saint Domingue, might have made Haiti more attractive for Cuban refugees and exiles than for Puerto Ricans. Of course, the failure of armed uprisings in Puerto Rico also made the numbers of refugees or exiles from that island far smaller than their Cuban counterparts. Nonetheless, there was a small contingent of Puerto Ricans in Haiti during this time, with some perhaps passing through Port-au-Prince or Jacmel. 

1908 Le Matin notice of the arrival in Port-au-Prince of Fernando Fuertes. This name was also listed in the membership of Club Betances. Surprisingly, some of members of the club were still in Haiti after 1898.

Moreover, Betance's temporary home, Jacmel, was one of Haiti's busiest ports in the later decades of the 19th century, receiving international visitors, merchants, and shipping line service. Under Petion, Latin American liberator Simon Bolivar also found refuge there. After Betances left Haiti in 1872, his brother and Basora remained, with the former reportedly running a hotel in Jacmel, according to a Caribbean commercial directory. Indeed, Felipe Betances, his nephew, who studied medicine, also appeared in Benito Sylvain's Haitian/Pan-African journal as part of the Haitian community in Paris.  Philippe would return to Haiti and establish a family, suggesting strong attachments to Haiti that persisted after 1898. Betances himself contributed a short story to La Fraternite, which, like his other writings pertinent to Haiti, reveal continued links to Haitian intellectuals in France. This included refutations of racist publications about Haiti as well as mingling with Haitians such as Firmin and Latin Americans in the French capital. 

Chapellerie La Borinquen, appearing in Le Nouvelliste in 1908. Emile Cuebas, or Emilio Cuevas, may be the father of Lolita Cuevas, a singer who performed Haitian folkloric songs and other material. She also presented Haiti in a positive light in Puerto Rico. 

By 1895, Puerto Ricans residing in Haiti become easier to track. The final thrust of the Cuban Independence War appears to have fueled efforts among the Puerto Rican section of the Partido Revolucionario Cubano to aid the war efforts. Although dispersed, the Puerto Rican section raised funds from members and, in at least Port-au-Prince, formed Club Betances. Antonio Mattei Lluberas, who reported on his efforts in Haiti during the 1890s, attested to the small size of the Puerto Rican community. Indeed, for Port-au-Prince, he puts their number at under 30. Such a small number, many of them lacking capital, must have included the larger Cuban colonie and sympathetic Haitians to raise funds and participate in club activities. Intriguingly, many of the names associated with Club Betances appear in Haitian newspapers well into the 20th century. These include the following:  Guillermo Gonzalez, Fernando Fuertes, Blas Vieras, and  Francisco Desuse. If most of these men were Puerto Rican, their presence in Port-au-Prince after 1898 indicates a small but settled community of artisans, distillateurs, and businessmen. Perhaps they married into local families or with other elements of the capital's foreign population, such as Blas Viera's daughter's union with a Vital.

Antonio Mattei Lluberas, an active member of the Puerto Rican Section of the Partido Revolucionario Cubano, was in Haiti during the late 1890s to raise funds for the Cuban cause. His brief reports indicated a tiny Puerto Rican colony in the Haitian capital, about 30 people, and some of the activities of the Club Betances. According to Mattei Lluberas, the Puerto Rican residents in Port-au-Prince lacked capital, and were much smaller than the Cuban colony.

From 1900 to 1934, allusions to Puerto Ricans living or working in Haiti continue. During the US Occupation, some came to work for US companies. HASCO, for instance, employed at least one Puerto Rican in the 1920s. Haitian sources, quoted by Michel Hector, refer to Puerto Rican and West Indian migrants taking the best positions in new industries established during this era, particularly automobiles. US plantations and the railroad companies also employed some foreign workers, which may have included Puerto Ricans in middle-status positions or in some mechanical capacity. At least three Puerto Ricans chose Port-au-Prince for founding chapelleries, an effort connecting Jose Blanch (consul for Haiti in Mayaguez), Emile Cuebas (Emilio Cuevas), and Jose San Millan. Cuebas even called his business La Borinquen, making clear the ties to his homeland. These small-scale shops and establishments, like that of Jose Blanch, probably employed young women and may have introduced ideas or practices from Puerto Rico. Unquestionably, Puerto Rican workers in new industries during the 20th century likely interacted with Haitian workers, perhaps transferring some skills in mechanics or automobile garages. Some of partial Puerto Rican heritage also enter the historical record, such as Jean Wagoner.

Albizu Campos visited Haiti in  September 1927, meeting with Joseph Jolibois fils and other anti-occupation activists.

Needless to say, these entrepreneurs and skilled workers were a tiny community, but left a legacy of cultural contact and exchange between the two Antillean peoples. Emile Cuebas was probably the father of Lolita Cuevas, a singer raised in Haiti who promoted Haitian folkloric music. According to press coverage of her in Port-au-Prince newspapers, she also represented Haiti favorably in Puerto Rico. Such a connection may have been a cultural component of Puerto Rican-Haitian relations during the 1920s and 1930s. The political connection, best expressed through solidarity beween Haitian and Puerto Rican nationalists opposed to US imperialism, is another. For instance, Haitian media allusions to visits of Albizu Campos make clear a certain interest in the fate of Puerto Rico. Albizu Campos also sympathized with forces opposed to the US Occupation, including Haiti in his political vision of Latin America. Perhaps Albizu Campos's inheritance of expansive notions of "Latin" civilization and meeting with Joseph Jolibois fils, who also undertook a journey across Latin America, shaped the connection between labor and cultural autonomy for both leaders. Even though anti-black prejudice continued in Puerto Rico, often quite explicit in cases such as Pedreira, a certain degree of overlapping interests, a past in Betances and Firmin, Jolibois and Albizu Campos, suggests Haiti's centrality for Caribbean consciousness.