Beard stakes his case on Toussaint having been a slave for fifty years

Beard makes two claims about Toussaint that carry the whole argument of the book. The first is racial: he wants it emphatically marked that Toussaint had no white blood at all, because the point of the biography is to show that everything Toussaint achieved was achieved with faculties common to the African race. The second is biographical: Toussaint lived fifty years of his life in slavery before he emerged as the vindicator of his people. Beard treats the long wait as an advantage, giving the man time to learn both the sufferings and the capacities of the enslaved before he had to act. Modern archival work on the Breda estate papers, including the study by Geggus in this same batch, has since established that Toussaint was legally free and had himself owned a slave well before 1791. Where this account departs from the standard one: Beard presents Toussaint as enslaved until the revolution, which archival research on the Breda papers has since overturned.

In October 1741 the Conseil Superieur of Martinique told Paris that the deaths of enslaved people and livestock came from particular slaves misusing medical knowledge, making powders and drugs from plants and handing them round as remedies. It warned that such practitioners might turn their skills on owners, argued that medicine could not be told apart from poisoning because the composition was kept secret, and said other slaves would never denounce them for fear of becoming victims. It concluded that slaves should be barred from giving any remedies, powders or drugs for any illness. Before the royal answer came, the court had to deal with Jean Francois, who admitted in January 1742 to distributing remedies across many quarters of the island. No accusation of harm could be found, and with no law the court could not execute him, so it argued about irons and deportation. The royal declaration arrived on 1 February 1743 on precisely the terms requested.

In 1741 the Conde das Galveas, viceroy of Brazil, sent the king a broadly positive report that ended with a warning about great illnesses sweeping Salvador, fluxes and people bleeding from the mouth. By the autumn of 1743 his tone had changed completely. More than five thousand people had sickened and died in recent years and the colony was in a terrible state. Jesuits at the Engenho de Santa Anna had already reported in the early 1730s that they could not cope with the number of sick around them. Galveas never wrote that these deaths were poisonings. In the same year as the alarming report he set in motion an ordinance on poison, which made administering it worth investigating even where nobody died, and required anyone selling poison to register with the state. Over the following decades denunciations to the Inquisition of causing or of treating such illnesses climbed rapidly.

Tegbesu came to the throne of Dahomey in 1740. Around the beginning of 1746 he ordered the execution of the men then trading at Whydah and put the business in the hands of the Migan and the Mehu, the two highest ranking officials of the kingdom, each of whom kept two or three servants at the port for the purpose. A French agent on the spot gave two reasons. The king wanted the dead men's property, and he wanted to do all of the trade himself. A slightly later report says simply that he killed them because they were too rich. The same agent noted that the new appointees did not dare trade on their own account for fear of ending the same way, and that nothing could now be sold at Whydah except through them. Whether the executed men were private traders or royal officials who had enriched themselves is not clear from the record.