A future Massachusetts governor fishes treasure off Hispaniola

New England ships were working the waters around Hispaniola long before any government in North America had a position on the place. In 1686 William Phips, a shipwright from the Maine frontier who later governed the Massachusetts colony, recovered a sunken hoard off the island's coast and carried the proceeds home. The voyage made him rich and it made his name. It is a fair marker of what the island already meant to English colonists: a source of sudden money and a crossroads of Atlantic traffic. Rayford Logan uses the episode to fix a point about sequence. The commercial relationship between the ports of New England and the French colony was built by merchants and captains across the whole eighteenth century, decades before there was a United States to conduct diplomacy. When Washington's government later had to decide how to handle a slave colony in revolt, it was deciding about a trading partner its own merchants knew intimately. The trade came first and the diplomacy caught up with it.

The Code Noir of 1685 ordered that every enslaved person in the French islands be baptised and instructed in the Catholic religion, and required a planter buying newly arrived Africans to notify the governor within eight days so that instruction and baptism could be arranged. The same text forbade the public exercise of any other religion and directed that offenders be punished as rebels. Marriage of the enslaved was prescribed as well, and the Church pressed it through the following century. The purpose of this apparatus was the quiet reproduction of slavery over a long stretch of time. Masters and administrators watched for anything that might interrupt it: abortion, infanticide, and above all flight from the plantation. Alongside the whip, which had never been sufficient on its own, the colony now had a machine for supervising the few hours of rest a slave was allowed.

By the middle of the seventeenth century there were sizeable black Catholic communities in Brazil, Portugal, Angola and the Kongo, some of them organised into their own lay brotherhoods for prayer and mutual aid. A leader of one in Lisbon, Lourenco da Silva, used the title procurator general for a congregation of blacks and mulattos named after Our Lady of the Rosary, and claimed descent from the royal houses of Kongo and Angola. He was probably born in Brazil. In 1684 he got himself to Rome and protested to the Pope against the perpetual enslavement of black Christians and the cruelties inflicted on them. His case joined the Capuchin protests, convinced Propaganda Fide, and produced a broad condemnation of the slave trade from the Holy Office in 1686. It was blocked by the governments of Portugal and Spain and had no effect. The papacy was in a weak position to press it, since popes were still using purchased slaves in their galleys.

Eleven people on Andre Gomes de Medina's plantation in Bahia, and more in the neighbourhood around it, had died over the course of a year from illnesses nobody could name. In 1688 the enslaved people there searched the cabin of a man called Simao and found a pot of animal teeth and powders. Simao later told the Lisbon inquisitors it was made from the heads of snakes and served as a cure for venomous bites. Before that he was put through a boiling water ordeal, a judicial procedure closely resembling ones then in use in West Africa. Afterwards he was said to have confessed to killing other slaves. Three enslaved people, Domingos, Joanna and Ursula, heard the confession, and the slaveholder heard of it only at second hand. Domingos, about twenty five years old, gave evidence to the commissioner himself, and he and Joanna testified to finding the pot. The enslaved ran this investigation from beginning to end.