The same admiral says no woman or child was killed on purpose

Having accepted three thousand Haitian dead as unavoidable, Admiral Knapp was asked about women and children and said no. He allowed that a woman might have been shot during an action while in the company of a band, and called such cases accidents of the campaign, without intent behind them. He had heard of no case at all in which a child was killed. The records his own service produced say otherwise. Marines treated women close to the cacos as an equal threat and beat and killed them deliberately, and distance from the fighting protected nobody, since women were attacked on the roads, in the markets and inside their own houses whatever their politics. Estrea Jean Gilles, Eleanor Charles and Adirenng Senatus were injured and killed by American troops, and under Knapp's account of the occupation their deaths were inevitable and impossible at the same time. Officers wrote down the wounds. The same officers declined to answer for them in public. A file recording an injury and a testimony denying it are two halves of one policy.

The International Council of Women of the Darker Races ran study clubs in which members and outsiders read texts by people of African descent from anywhere in the world. The stated purpose was strengthening the darker races through familiarity with themselves and with one another. In practice this was an alternative curriculum, complete with research projects that placed Black women at the centre, at a time when no school in either country taught such a thing. Theodora Holly was the most requested speaker, lecturing girls and women in Haiti and in the United States on the history of Haitian women. Members also collected newspapers and photographs and mailed them across the water. Holly wrote to Margaret Washington describing a talk she gave to a girls' club in Port-au-Prince, where she held up Washington's photograph as an example of what a Black woman could be. A decade later in Paris, Jane and Paulette Nardal gathered a cercle d'amis on the same principle. An image travelling from Alabama to a schoolroom in Port-au-Prince was traffic the occupation had no method for reading.

In November 1919 American forces reached Charlemagne Péralte in his camp and killed him during a raid. Nicholls records that he was betrayed by a member of his own family. His body was then tied to a door and displayed publicly in the town square to discourage anyone from carrying on the fight. The occupation had spent more than a year unable to find him in country that was almost entirely on his side, and took him in the end through information supplied by someone close to him. That is worth saying plainly, because the display of the body was meant to communicate something else, that American arms had beaten Haitian resistance in a fair contest. What ended the rebellion in the North was money and access, applied to the network of kinship and obligation that had kept Péralte alive for fourteen months. The display then handed his movement the one thing his living command had lacked, which was an image every Haitian would recognise on sight.

Haitian men avoided the main roads to escape the labour draft. Women could not, because they were the market sellers, the caregivers, the landowners, the shopkeepers and the domestic servants whose work required travel. American records and Marine photograph albums are full of pictures captioned as the typical country woman on a burro. Some men used that familiarity for cover. The Caco general Theophil toured the north recruiting while dressed as a market woman, travelling with a burro. General Petit Severe, wanted by the authorities in Cap-Haïtien, came and went from the town as he pleased in the same disguise, moving seven burro loads of rifles across the Dominican border. The performance made attacks on American officers possible. Visibility cut the other way as well, and girls and women travelled in groups for safety. Madame Benoît, wife of the Caco leader, went regularly to Mirebalais, Lascahobas and Port-au-Prince for supplies in the company of other market women, riding a bay mule and carrying a revolver under her dress.