Recognition arrives over thirty-seven years, France first

Gaffield lists the sequence in which the powers eventually granted official diplomatic recognition: France in 1825, the British empire, the Netherlands and Denmark in 1826, Spain in 1855, and the United States in 1862. Her argument is that these dates have been made to carry far too much weight. Because historians have measured Haiti's standing by them, the intervening decades get described as isolation, and Haitian history becomes a straight line from a failed experiment in independence to the poorest country in the hemisphere. What the archives in Haiti, France, Jamaica, England, the United States, the Netherlands and Denmark show instead is a long period in which policies shifted constantly, local officials improvised without instruction, merchants traded legally and illegally, and courts made law. Recognition, she argues, had already happened in pieces long before it was announced. Where this account departs from the standard one: Gaffield rejects the isolation thesis, arguing that the conventional recognition dates conceal decades of diplomatic, economic and legal connection between Haiti and the Atlantic world.

On 1 August 1838 the abolition of slavery took full effect on the British island of Dominica and roughly fourteen thousand people stopped being property. An interim period of apprenticeship had run from 1834 and was supposed to ease owners and slaves into the new arrangement. It settled nothing. Dominica registered one of the lowest ratios of enslaved people to land anywhere in the British Caribbean, and for ecological and historical reasons the plantation had never dominated the island the way it dominated the older sugar colonies. Planters and officials could see what abundant land would mean, and from 1834 they had already brought in severe measures to keep apprentices on the estates. Once apprenticeship ended they used every method available to stop cultivators establishing holdings of their own. Most of the freed people could not read, and they spoke a French based creole rather than English, a survival from the period before Britain took the island in 1763. The fight over land and labour ran on for a century.

On 24 June 1828 four French and Creole speaking Haitian women began their novitiate in Baltimore. Elizabeth Lange, born in Saint Domingue about 1784, had fled with her parents to Matanzas in Cuba before moving to Maryland, and she had been running a free school. Madeleine Balas taught in it. Rose Boegue was invited to join them. Almaide Duchemin, born in Baltimore to another refugee, was the youngest. Their constitution described a religious society of virgins and widows of colour whose purpose was the Christian education of coloured children. A refugee physician, Doctor Chatard, sold them their first house on Richmond Street for two thousand dollars, less than he had paid. Rome approved the congregation on 2 October 1831, which put it beyond the reach of a hostile bishop. Archbishop Samuel Eccleston later recommended that the sisters disband and take work as housekeepers for wealthy Maryland families.

On Saturday 7 May 1842 the Septentrional fault in northern Hispaniola moved. Witnesses said the ground worked for several minutes and came in two distinct shocks, the second doing most of the harm. In Port-au-Prince people ran out of the downtown buildings into the streets, and the coat of arms above the Senate entrance fell and shattered, which onlookers read as a sign that the government would come down too. Tremors went on through the weekend, and a heavy one broke up mass on Sunday 8 May. Reports reached the capital from Puerto Plata, Gonaives and Saint-Marc, and from Falmouth in western Jamaica. A mountain near Saint-Marc was said to have split in two. James Hartwell, a British missionary in Port-au-Prince, wrote to England wondering why the capital had been spared. At Gonaives the government house, the arsenal, the treasury and the prison collapsed, sixty prisoners escaped, and a fire the next evening burned much of the rest.