A white planter reads out the charter making him governor for life

The second constitution in the colony's history was presented at Cap with slow ceremony, read aloud by the white planter Borgella. Girard argues the authorship was a screen. Louverture had settled all the crucial provisions in advance and many of the delegates were figureheads, four of them from recently conquered Santo Domingo and unlikely to object, one of whom died before the assembly even met. Loosening the ties to France had long been the goal of white colonists like Borgella, and a text drafted by white men might look less alarming in Paris. The preamble claimed Louverture had played a minimal role in drafting it, which contradicted the record but gave him deniability. Girard notes that half the people present that day would be dead or in exile within three years.

Sanite Belair, a young free woman from Verrettes, married Charles Belair in 1796 or 1797. He was Toussaint Louverture's nephew and aide de camp. In 1802 he took up arms against the Leclerc expedition from the heights of the Matheux, and held out there for more than two months. Sanite worked at pulling the scattered insurgent forces together and was said by some to be the soul of the conspiracy. Captured in a surprise attack at Corail Mirrault while her husband was away looking for ammunition, she was taken prisoner, and he surrendered rather than leave her. Dessalines, then serving the French, sent the pair to Leclerc with a letter accusing them. The court sentenced Charles to be shot and Sanite, on account of her sex, to be beheaded. On 5 October 1802 she demanded and was granted a soldier's death by firing squad, refused the blindfold, and could not be forced to the block.

Britain handed Martinique back to France in September 1802 and left behind between fifteen hundred and eighteen hundred prisoners of colour taken during the occupation. All of them were free under French law. The new French governor of the island considered dumping them on the coast of Venezuela among people he called savages. A man named Delpech then offered to take five hundred off his hands, promising to repay the British for their upkeep, to strand the most troublesome in Central America and to dispose of the rest as he saw fit. Two brigs escorted by the corvette Berceau sailed with them. Officials at Cumana and on the isthmus had been warned by the earlier Guadeloupe voyage and would not buy. The ships then put one hundred and fifty men ashore on the Miskito Coast of what is now Nicaragua, chained together in pairs, with two weeks of food. When the flotilla anchored at Santo Domingo in October, eighty five of the original five hundred were still aboard.

Captain Marcus Rainsford of the West India regiment published a thirty-page memoir in January 1802 recounting his misadventures in Santo Domingo in 1799, when a hurricane forced his ship into port, he met Toussaint, played billiards with him, was arrested as a suspected spy, condemned by a military jury and then released on Toussaint's intervention. Pierrot notes that the book ran against the grain at the moment of publication, when English opinion supported the Leclerc expedition. Rainsford argued that an independent Haiti posed no threat to British colonies, that the revolutionaries had no wish to attack them, and that the French expedition would fail for logistical and moral reasons. The mechanism of the book's limitation is that it defended Toussaint as an individual rather than the political force behind him, which is the separation Pierrot's whole argument tracks.