Port-de-Paix is destroyed and no group is spared

In 1695 the town of Port-de-Paix, on the northern coast of what would become Saint-Domingue, was destroyed in the course of the wars between the European powers in the Caribbean. No group in the town escaped, whether French settlers, enslaved Africans or free people of colour. The episode says something about the society that grew up there. Saint-Domingue began as a frontier held by armed men who had come out of buccaneering, and its early character was defensive and military. What its inhabitants feared changed over the following century. In the sixteen hundreds the danger came from outside, from rival empires and from freebooters who owed nobody any loyalty. By the seventeen hundreds the danger was understood to lie inside, in the African majority the planters had imported. One habit from the early years persisted. Men of colour were armed and enrolled in the militia, a practice that would matter enormously when the colony turned on itself.

Thornton uses the movement led by Dona Beatriz Kimpa Vita to show how far Kongolese ideologues could rework Christian material. Claiming to be permanently possessed by Saint Anthony, she set out to end the civil wars and restore the kingdom, and in defining her position she retold Christian history so that the nativity happened at Nsundi, the province traditionally tied to Afonso, which she named as Bethlehem, while the capital São Salvador became Jerusalem and the place of the baptism. Thornton's point is that Macaya's later description of the kings of Kongo, France and Spain as descendants of the Magi was not eccentric improvisation but an established Kongolese habit of mind. Kongolese, he argues, viewed kings much as northern European thinkers did, as necessary but potentially limited.

By the 1690s the enslaved black population of Virginia outnumbered white indentured servants there by four to one. For most of the century the tobacco colony had run on indenture, which meant English and Irish people bound to labour for a term of years and then released with a claim to land. That arrangement carried an end date inside it. Slavery carried none, and the Atlantic traffic had grown large enough to supply planters at a price they preferred. The ratio is the visible result of decisions the Virginia assembly had already taken in law: making slave status inherit through the mother, closing the escape route through baptism, and fixing condition by race. The colony that later produced the sentence about all men being created equal had, by this decade, settled the prior question of who counted as a man. The same substitution of African slavery for European indenture was under way across the plantation Americas at the same moment, on English, French, Dutch and Portuguese ground alike.

Around the end of the seventeenth century the money in the Americas moved. For most of the two hundred years since Columbus, the wealth Europe drew from the hemisphere came out of the ground in Mexico and Peru, in silver dug by conscripted indigenous labour. By the 1690s the largest returns were coming from sugar grown on the Caribbean islands and along the coast of Brazil. Sugar demands land, mills, capital and an enormous supply of workers who can be compelled, and the plantation complex that supplied all four expanded through the Atlantic basin at once. This relocation is the reason the slave trade reached the size it did. Silver mining drew on indigenous labour drafts organised in place. Sugar drew on Africans bought across an ocean and shipped in, and it consumed them fast enough to require permanent replacement. Every feature of the eighteenth century Caribbean, including the colony that became Haiti, follows from the centre of gravity moving off the mainland mines and into the island cane fields.