Haiti opens relations with Greece before Greece exists as a state

In their commentary the authors make a claim about status rather than about sentiment. By addressing his reply to the citizens of Greece while Greece was still Ottoman territory, Boyer treated an unrecognised insurgency as a body of citizens rather than as subjects in revolt, which they read as an implicit recognition of independent statehood. Greek scholarship accordingly treats the document as the first official communication between the two countries and the first official reference of its kind, and it is cited in Greek encyclopaedias and historical works. The distinction between citizen and subject is the hinge of their argument, since it was the point at issue both in the ancient Persian wars Boyer invokes and in the Balkan and Caribbean struggles of his own century. The letter survives because Ioannis Filemon, secretary to Demetrius Ypsilantis, kept it among the papers he deposited in the Greek state archive. Where this account departs from the standard one: The article places the first act of Haitian recognition of Greece in 1822, well before the European powers acknowledged a Greek state.

In 1822 Haitian troops occupied Santo Domingo, beginning the period Dominicans call the Haitian Domination, which lasted until 1844. The principle behind it went back to Toussaint Louverture, who had held that the freedom of the Haitian masses could not be secure while slavery survived on the other side of the island. The first official act of President Jean Pierre Boyer after taking over the government in Santo Domingo was to abolish slavery there. He followed it with a programme distributing smallholdings to freed people and peasants, and then went after the interests of the cattle ranchers and the Catholic Church. Hundreds of Dominicans left the country. Those twenty two years shaped how the Dominican elite would talk about Haiti for the next century and a half, and the writers who later built an anti Haitian national story had this occupation in mind whenever they described their neighbours as a threat.

In 1818 the king of Dahomey, Adandozan, was deposed. The reason given was military failure, and the consequence of that failure was a shortage of captives for the sacrifices owed to the dead kings. His successor Gezo had seized the throne and needed to look unlike him. Gezo made military success the point of his reign. In 1823 he defeated Oyo, the Yoruba power in the interior that Dahomey had been paying tribute to since 1748, and the payments stopped. He enlarged the standing army, increased the scale of human sacrifice, and turned the armed women of the royal household, whom Europeans called the Amazons, from a bodyguard into a regular part of the field army. Nineteenth century British visitors found Dahomey more militarised than eighteenth century accounts had described. Gezo is a large part of the reason.

In 1818 two French medical writers, Fournier and Begim, published an attack on Felix Pascalis of New York. They called him a man who had never really been a doctor at all. Then they went further and named his connection in Saint-Domingue with the insurgent leader they called the pious Romain and with the camp at Trou Coffy, accusing him of presiding over the killing of white civilians and the mutilation of their bodies. Pascalis demanded two thousand dollars in damages. He also wrote to Jean Deveze in Paris, who had run the fever hospital at Bush Hill in Philadelphia in 1793, and obtained from him a signed declaration in February 1820 that his conduct during the Trou Coffy affair had deserved glory. To make his case he set down in 1821 a long memoir of what he had seen, the Anecdote historique. That document, written to save a medical reputation in Manhattan, is one of the fullest eyewitness accounts of any 1791 insurgency in the colony.