Morne la Selle stands at 8,793 feet and rules the map

Haiti is mountainous in a way that numbers make plain. Morne la Selle, the highest point in the country, rises to 8,793 feet, and ranges of that order cut the territory into compartments. In 1801 the terrain was explained to Napoleon by crumpling a sheet of foolscap and setting it down, a demonstration meant to show that flat maps understate the distances involved. Barriers of this kind favour whoever is already in the hills. During the American occupation about 1,200 miles of road were built by 1934, and much of that network fell out of use afterward, so that irrigation works and mill machinery installed at great expense were later abandoned and forgotten. The effect over two centuries is a rural majority living beyond the reach of the capital, keeping habits of household organisation and worship with West African roots that no urban authority was in a position to interfere with. Apartness in Haiti is a physical fact before it is a cultural one.

On the night of 24 December 1492 the Santa Maria drifted onto a reef off the northern coast of Hispaniola, near what is now Cap-Haitien. A ship's boy had the helm. The hull opened and could not be saved. Columbus was left with one seaworthy vessel, since the Pinta had gone off on its own some weeks earlier, and the Nina was too small to carry every man back to Spain. He decided to build a fort out of the wreck and leave part of the crew in it. This accident produced the first European settlement in the Americas, and it produced it on the coast of what is now Haiti. Nothing about the site had been chosen. Rouse notes the practical consequence for the return voyage. Columbus sailed for Spain in January with a crew cut down to what one caravel could hold, and with a garrison behind him that he expected to find alive.

In the autumn of 1503 Ovando went into Xaragua, gathered the district chiefs into a single building on the pretext of a meeting, and had it set alight with eighty of them inside. Anacaona, who governed the province, was hanged in public. Rouse states the result plainly: this destroyed the last independent chiefdoms on Hispaniola and gave Spain complete control of the island. Eleven years had passed since the first European ship anchored off the coast. In that time a society of several hundred thousand people organised into five polities had been reduced to a labour supply with no leadership of its own, and the killing of a chief had become an administrative act performed by a governor holding instructions from Madrid. Everything that followed came out of a decision to leave nobody standing who could negotiate: the encomienda, the gold tribute, the collapse of the population, and the shipping in of Africans to replace it.

Governor Ovando sent Spain a report in 1503 warning that Africans escaping into the interior of Hispaniola had become a danger to the colony. Fick takes the document as a marker. Africans had been on the island perhaps three years, and already enough of them had gone into the mountains and stayed free there for the administration to treat it as a standing threat needing a policy. Marronage on this island is therefore as old as African slavery on it. No period of acceptance can be found before resistance begins. The same mountains sheltered maroon communities continuously for three centuries, through the Spanish period and the whole of French Saint-Domingue, and the leaders of the 1791 rising drew on a tradition of flight, concealment and armed refusal running back to the first decade of the sixteenth century. Fick built her history of the revolution on that continuity.