How British diplomats got their jobs

[mildred_of_midgard]

In a recent salon post, when selenak was reading us Hanbury-Williams' correspondence with Catherine, she commented:

But still, as I said when reading the two books on him: he should never have become a diplomat, and how he got a couple of really important assignments is a mystery to me.

And mildred_of_midgard replied:

The Count de Broglie has an entertaining opinion on that too!

Sir Charles Hanbury Williams appears to have been one of those dissipated diplomatists who are not unfrequently met with in the English legations; whither they are banished by British scruples, which, holding them unworthy to fulfil the serious duties of parliamentary life, consider them fit for the looser ways of the Continent.

Well, in the course of my 1768-1772 foreign policy research, Mildred came across a more serious answer. According to the opening of Macartney in Russia, by Michael Roberts, historian and author of *numerous* books and essays on British diplomacy (and Swedish history):

It was one of the tacit conventions of eighteenth-century English politics that almost any man who had been born into the ruling class, or who had contrived to get himself accepted by it, could probably fill a public office with a reasonable degree of competence. There were, of course, exceptions: it was recognized that the navy was not for amateurs; the law had its own private staircases; the exchequer could not for very long be left to inexpert hands, for fear of alarming the country gentlemen and the City. But for the rest, office was the consequence of 'weight', the reward for fidelity to a connection, the consolation of the needy, a useful step on the road to a peerage. And the assumption that almost any man could make a fair shot at almost any job was, on the whole, justified. The business of government was still relatively uncomplicated, the techniques of administration easily acquired; a man with a clear head, a modicum of industry, and that dignity and perspicuity of style which seemed inborn in the political nation, could undertake a position of responsibility untroubled by any morbid doubts as to his ability to fill it.

To these generalizations the diplomatic service was no exception. The major embassies were sufficiently attractive to tempt, and perhaps sufficiently expensive to require, men of high social standing and ample private fortune: if the Duke of Bedford, or Lord Hertford, could be persuaded to go to Paris, a secretary of state would not be so foolish as to start doubts about his competence in diplomacy. In this, of course, the British diplomatic service was not unique. The Comte de Saint-Priest, appointed French minister to Portugal at the age of twenty-seven ,recalled without embarrassment that at the time of his appointment

Je n'avais d'autre connaissance en ce genre qu'un fonds d'histoire et de géographie, et j'ai vu, par mon expérience, que c'est à peu prés tout ce qu'il faut, en fait d'études préliminaires, pour la diplomatie, la politique n'étant autre chose que la juste application du jugement sur les personnes et les circonstances; le reste est une routine qu'on ne peut guère manquer d'acquérir promptement.

Such men began as novices; and if in the course of their mission, they happened to discover a talent for their work, so much the better; if not, they had secretaries--official or unofficial--to assist them. It might happen that the secretaries were amateurs too--as David Hume was; but some, at least, were men who hoped to make a career in diplomacy. They did not always succeed, and when they failed their lot was often hard; but if they did make good their footing, they provided the service with its only really professional element. Yet it is still true that too many men accepted a diplomatic appointment as a stop-gap until something better should fall in at home, or until they should inherit the family estate, or establish their fortunes by a judicious marriage.

Mildred commentary:

The idea that any man of the right class could hold almost any role in public office struck me as very plausible, because one thing I remember from my Classics days was that in the democracy of ancient Athens, appointment to public office happened via lottery, because of this very principle.

I can also confirm from my reading that it was hard to get people to go as ambassadors to almost all the courts of Europe; that even when people were browbeaten into going, they spent most of their time complaining about their post and asking either for recall or for a different (either cheaper or more prestigious post); and that a lot of them really just wanted a plum job back home. Many of them delayed their departures and practically had to be shoved out the door by the government. (This is why I believe Suhm when he tells Fritz he doesn't want to go to St. Petersburg; yes, he'd been asking for a job, but that was not considered a desirable job.)

I can also confirm that being an ambassador was expensive, so your volunteers tend to fall into these financial categories:
1. The filthy rich who can afford it out of pocket (sometimes by selling property).
2. The less filthy rich, who nonetheless come from a prestigious enough family that they can easily get credit, and who are willing to go into debt, and who spend most of their time writing home asking for the arrears on their salary to please be paid.
3. The ones who are in financial trouble at home and think they'll be better off a few countries away from their creditors, who also spend most of their time writing home asking for the arrears on their salary to please be paid.

Roberts adds in a footnote:

In 1766 Horace Walpole wrote, 'The embassy [to Madrid] has been sadly hawked about; not a peer that would take it.'

So quite possibly, H-W got a lot of his jobs because the government was happy just to find someone who was willing to go!

A Character of Lady Mary Hervey drawn by herself

[mildred_of_midgard]

Earlier this year, selenak reviewed Lucy Worsley's book Courtiers. In the ensuing discussion, mildred_of_midgard became interested in a document cited by Worsley, namely "A Character of Lady Mary Hervey drawn by herself". Having obtained a facsimile of the document from the Suffolk Record Office, Mildred transcribed the document for salon:

At Ickworth the 20th of January 1744

Although it is an opinion generally received that one does
not thoroughly know oneself, I do not believe it. We conceal
our faults from others, therefore it is believed; At least
it sall be seen if I thoroughly know myself. For once
in my life, I will humble myself (which I will not often do
when I can avoid it) by saying what I know of myself.

I am little, but there are many less. I am strait,
the shoulders low, the waist round and slender, tho' I am
gracefull, the neck long, the throat frightfull, the head
too large, the face flat, the complexion is the best thing
I have, and that none of the finest but there is white
and red ,the nose ugly, large at the end with round nostrils
the mouth neither large or small, ugly or pretty, the
teeth very strong, not of a brilliant white, but well
enough and even, the gums flat and pale, the forehead
ugly, large and too high, the eyes not very small, well
enough made and placed, grey, yet soft and sprightly, as to
my hair it has nothing to make it tolerable, it grows
badly, not thick and of a pale and ugly brown. I have
three moles, one on the forehead & two on one cheek, they
become me. Thus much for my person, I shall only say
that I love neatness very much, and that I affect an
air of grandeur, which does not suit my stature
and makes me appear haughty and disdainfull: I had
forgot my eyebrows. Observe that they are not very
handsome, but well enough and set off my face.

I am not silly, tho' it may sometimes be believed I am,
but I have not one grain of solidity or judgmnet. I am
too apt to believe the professions of friendship that
are made to me, which makes me inclinable to
love than hate, this proceeds not from a good heart but a
weak mind. I am naturally gay and delighted with every
thing, unless I have something to afflict me, in which case
I have no moderation, and believe there is no person so
unhappy as myself. I love people of spirit. Raillery is a
very great pleasure to me, but I don't love those who slander
every body and every thing that is done. I like better
that they ridicule in general, than particular persons,
to' the latter diverts me very much, at the same time that I
feel some remorse for being so much pleased with it, and yet
would not silence them if I could, nor be silent myself.
This is another sign of weakness, also when I see any
one much more ridiculous than the generality of mindkind,
I cannot help laughing in their face. I detest lying, as well
because it is mean and file, as because it is a crime. I
am proud to the last degree, nothing equals it but my
ambition, which is boundless, there is nothing so ridiculous
or impossible in the world but that I have thought of to
satisfy the one and the other. I shall find it a great
misfortune to be so ambitious as I am, as there is no
likelyhood I shall ever be able to satisfy it (it not being
easy so to do) if it is not that I value myself for having
such high thoughts, and sometimes I think myself
almost worthy to be what I desire, because I cannot be
satisfied with less. I greatly love pomp, magnificence of all
sorts and ornament, but respect much more than anything
else, as I think they can never shew me too much. I very much
love persons who show me respect, but no one shews
me enough, because they do not treat me with more than
others of the same quality. I diverty myself very well
when alone, and am never tired of myself. I am very
passionate but don't let it appear. I find it beneath me,
not to be able to disguise it. I am easily chagrined,
which sometimes makes me suffer very much, whe nI am in
an ill humour. I do not shew it, but if ever it is perceived that
I answer only by monosyllables, be assured that I am the
Devil within. I can disguise myself without much pain,
I am bashfull, idle and fearfull. I love sleep, but upon
occasion can sit up all night, or get up before it is day.
When I am at home I amloth to leave my chair [to go]
awalking, but when once I have begun, I like it very
well, and am not easily tired, provided I walk slowly.
Above all I like extremely to view the country. I never
go out on horseback I am afraid. I had rather make
use of a coach than my feet. I am very curious and
awkward. I dance badly, write badly, know not how to play
at cards or do any work. I love Musick infinitely. I
mortally hate children and am uneasy when they are
in the room and they also hate me in their turn.
There is no difficulty I cannot surmount to please those
I love. I am not ungrateful, it is a vice I detest. I had
rather be hated than despised, it is the effect of my pride.
I have a very bad memory for want of sufficient
application. I love novels better than history. Geometry
and astronomy please me infinitely. When I take an
aversion to any one, I have an incredible desire
to affront them.

selenak: Wow, that is fascinating. cahn, for the record, because we're talking about so many Herveys and Marys: this lady is Molly, wife of Hervey the memoirist, mother of (among others) Augustus the Seaman and Fred the Bishop, grandmother of Bess Foster. Mildred actually tracked down the manuscript from which the quote in Lucy Worsley's book about Georgian courtiers hails from.

( Salon discusses )

Heinrich and Poland according to Volz

[mildred_of_midgard]

As summarized by Selena, Ziebura's take on the episode in which Heinrich is offered a crown:

August III of Poland & Saxony had died in 1763, and a polish delegation lead by Andreas Mokranowski showed up in Prussia to offer the crown to Heinrich. Now, not only was this when Fritz and Heinrich had just had one of their frequent bust-ups (this one involved the immortal dialogue "mon cher, you just don't understand" "Oh, I think I'm old enough to understand" (exit Heinrich to Rheinsberg, seriously, this from two men who'd just won the 7 Years War), but it also conflicted with Catherine's desire to put her boyfriend, the later unexpectedly self determined Poniatowski on the Polish throne. Fritz, who did not want a new conflict with Russia, therefore forebade Andreas Mokranowski to as much as speak to Heinrich. Who didn't find out until becoming buddies with Catherine years later when negotioting the first Separation of Poland.

As part of mildred_of_midgard's Poland research, she across a 1905 article by Volz that says, "Not so fast."

Ziebura's account, according to Volz, is the traditional picture repeated by historian after historian, all of whom are copying each other (Volz puts some passages side by side to show the copying evidence), but this claim, as stated, goes back to some very unreliable sources that get everything wrong. The most reliable sources we have, which are unfortunately not as primary source as we would like, but summaries of speeches made orally, have a slightly different take.

First, some political background: There were two parties in Poland, the pro-Russian party led by the Czartoryskis and Poniatowskis (remember that they intermarried), aka "The Family", and the pro-French "Patriots" led by Branicki and Prince Radziwill. When Catherine sent Russian troops to occupy Poland in 1764, Branicki tried to defy them, but he and his troops were forced to flee to Hungary. Then he decided to ask Russia's ally Prussia to mediate.

Right as this was happening, Fritz was finally signing the treaty with Catherine, in which he pledged himself to support Poniatowski as king.

Branicki sent Mokranowski to Berlin to ask Fritz to do two things: 1) Prevent any alteration of the traditional Polish liberties that were aimed at strengthening the monarch's powers, 2) mediate between the two parties.

We have the goals of the delegation and Fritz's handwritten marginal notes in reply, and there is not a single syllable about Heinrich or offering the crown to him.

The only sources we have that mention Heinrich are reports that claim to go back to Mokranowski. An anonymously published life of Heinrich (1784) says that Mokranowski came not from Branicki but from a Polish confederation, and that the purpose of the delegation was to offer Heinrich the crown, and, worst of all, he dates the episode to the First Polish Partition, several years later!

Another anonymous life of Heinrich (1809) copies from it (both the language and the same mistakes show this), but adds the detail that Mokranowski made two trips to Berlin, one in 1764 and one in 1768, with the same request, and was rejected twice. Volz says we know for a fact that Mokranowski only made one trip, in 1764, and that there is clearly a lot of fictionalization happening here.

The most reliable sources we have are summaries made of the speech Mokranowski made when he got back to Poland, when he reported what he and Fritz had said orally. (Unfortunately, we don't have Mokranowski's direct take.)

There is one by a Polish noble named Mosczynki and an anonymous one. In what they include, they pretty much agree, but the anonymous one, which includes more detail, is the only one to mention Heinrich.

Then there's a book on the history of Poland by a Frenchman named Rulhière (cited extensively by de Broglie as well as the H-W bio), that also mentions Heinrich. Now, Rulhière had been in Russia in 1762 and had written an eyewitness account of the Revolution (that Wikipedia tells me was only published posthumously, as Catherine kept trying to destroy it), but he was *not* an eyewitness of the 1764 events. His account of the 1764 delegation to Fritz is largely based on Mosczynki's account, but it includes some extra details not in there (like Heinrich). There is some evidence he knew Mokranowski personally, especially since Mokranowski stayed in Paris from August 1769. However, Rulhière also makes some mistakes in his account, like saying Mokranowski went to Berlin on his own accord, rather than on behalf of Branicki.

A final source that mentions Heinrich is Baron Goltz's report from Paris 1769, Goltz being the Prussian envoy to France (whom I mentioned recently in response to Selena's question) and former Prussian envoy to Peter III.

So, to recap, our three reliable-seeming sources that mention Heinrich are:
- An anonymous recap of Mokranowski's speech to the Poles by a Pole.
- A summary of this episode by a Frenchman who may have known Mokranowski in Paris in 1769.
- An envoy report written several years later by a Prussian who knew Mokranowski during his stay in Paris in 1769, and wrote to Fritz summarizing what Mokranowksi had told him of what happened in 1764.

These three sources agree that 1) the main point of the embassy had nothing to do with Heinrich, 2) Heinrich's name came up in passing as a possible candidate.

Rulhière's version (which has mistakes), has Mokranowski saying, "Give us a king, give us your brother Prince Henri." Goltz's version has him saying, "Why does Your Majesty not want to give us a king from your own hand? The Poles would accept with joy and confidence someone like Prince Henri." In both accounts, Fritz responds, "He doesn't want to become Catholic." [Lol, Fritz.]

Finally, Fritz's reply to Goltz says, "Mokranowksi did indeed mention the proposal that you included in your last letter."

Critically, says Volz, there is no mention of a formal offer, just an idea, and Goltz specifically has Henri included just as an example of someone they (meaning the anti-Russian party) would accept.

In conclusion, it sort of happened, but there was no delegation sent to Fritz *in order to* ask for Heinrich as king, he just sort of came up in conversation as a possibility.

We all agree Fritz noped right out of that, though. ;)

Given that the guy who casually mentioned Heinrich was representing a party that had just been kicked out of Poland by occupying Russian troops, and given Kunersdorf and Zorndorf, I can see why Fritz did not want to touch the clusterfuck that is Poland and a war with Russia with a ten-foot pole in 1764. But you can tell he very much doesn't trust Heinrich to do the right thing here: Rulhière's account has him saying, "No, he really doesn't [want to become Catholic], and his stance on this is so firm that there's no point in talking to him; I will protect you from seeing it."

In *other* interesting Fritz-and-Poland news, I read Volz's account of Heinrich's maneuverings to end up in St. Petersburg, and indeed, it is convincing that Fritz did not send Heinrich to Catherine to propose a partition, but that this was Heinrich's initiative...but I have since turned up something that Volz does not mention in that article (unless I missed it in a footnote), but seems incredibly relevant:

In February 1769, Fritz proposed a partition of Poland to his envoy in St. Petersburg. He tried to pass it off as the idea of Count Lynar (remember, the former Danish ambassador to Russia who lost a game of intrigue with Moltke), who was in Berlin at the time to marry his daughter to a Kamecke, but my source (a 2022 book on the Russo-Turkish war of 1768-1774) says that it was Fritz's idea, as no reference to any such thing has been found in Lynar's papers. I have no source for the claim that it's *not* in Lynar's papers, but I have read the original letter from Fritz to his envoy Solms in 1769 in the Political Correspondence, so that's legit.

We've also seen that Fritz, in his political testament of 1768, told his successor that Poland must be eaten by an artichoke: leaf by leaf, and he was very interested in getting that land bridge from Pomerania to East Prussia.

But Catherine said no in 1769, and apparently by 1771, Fritz didn't think it was going to happen and was playing cautious. What's interesting is that historians will *either* say the partition was Fritz's idea and he "sent" Heinrich (which is wrong), or they'll say it was Heinrich's idea (or that it was proposed to him at Catherine's court and he started selling it to Fritz) without mentioning that Fritz himself had actually proposed it just 2 years before. (Given that, he may genuinely have believed later on that just a few months later he was chatting about a partition with Joseph, since Russia and Poland and what to do about the situation was a major topic of their discussion.) I actually had to read Norman Davies, of all people, to see that Fritz had made this proposal in 1769 (and then I couldn't find it in the P.C., because he gets the date wrong and doesn't name Solms), and then get this book Amazon recommended on the Russo-Turkish War to tell me how to find the actual proposal by Fritz.

So the true story seems to be: Fritz had the idea first, but got pushback and gave up on it, and wasn't prepared to re-adopt the idea two years later because he was expecting more pushback. (If he thought it was just Heinrich's idea, it's understandable that Fritz didn't realize how much support the idea now had at the Russian court, because of his previous experience, whereas Heinrich, who was there in St. Petersburg, realized how much had changed in 2 years.)

You know, if it didn't seem out of character for Fritz, I would still wonder...if someone makes you a proposal, refusing it because you want more but think you will lose face if you ask directly, if your BATNA is good enough, is a known negotiating technique that I have used myself. And it worked out for Fritz the same way it worked out for me: they started offering him more to catch his interest, and instead of getting one territory (the initial offer), he got the whole land bridge that he needed.

But I don't know that Fritz had that kind of subtlety, and it definitely doesn't seem like he and Heinrich worked this out in advance. He seems genuinely annoyed that little brother has decided to go to St. Petersburg and, as we saw, says, "I could have explained so many things in person." (Except you never would, Fritz, because you would rather poke your own eyes out than entrust Heinrich with a negotiation in a country out of your reach.)

Oh, and I meant to tie Branicki and Mokranowski back to The King's Secret. Remember when I wrote:

Then there are intrigues in the Polish Diet! The upshot is that the French come out on top for the present: they manage to get a powerful noble to defect to the French side, and prevent an alliance with Austria and Russia.

, which happened back in 1752? The powerful noble who defects to the French side is Branicki, and Mokranowski, according to Broglie, is the guy who gets him to defect. It's very dramatic:

The Act of Confederation was placed in a tent, which was speedily besieged by a crowd eager to sign the document. Mokranowski, having cleared a passage for himself, suddenly advanced to the table, as if with the intention of adding his own signature, caught up the paper, and, holding it tight against his breast, declared that it should only be taken from him with his life. Then, followed by the multitude attracted by this daring action, he went straight to the dwelling of the Grand General, and there, in a loud voice which could be heard by every one, he explained to the aged patriot what would be the consequences of the proceeding to which he was about to commit himself. He showed him that behind the National Confederation was a foreign invasion, only awaiting the signal to commence; a Russian army already collected on the frontier and ready to march in aid of civil war; and, as a result of this odious intervention of the foreigner, not only a Treaty of Alliance contrary to the interest of Poland, but a revolution by which the ancient liberties of the citizens would be sacrificed to the royal power. Every one knows how versatile are the masses--" Every assembly is a mob," said Cardinal de Retz--even an assembly of nobles like that which the young speaker was addressing. The passion in his face, the fire of his language, spread like an electric shock through the crowd; and, at the last moment, his happy allusion to the designs of the Czartoryski, which were already suspected, touched each member of the assembly on a sensitive point, and a universal clamour arose. Yielding to the popular enthusiasm, the Grand General rose, and, clasping Mokranowski in his arms, thanked him for having saved the country, while the young man tore the document, which he still held, to pieces, and trod upon the fragments.

The Grand General is Branicki.

Unfortunately, the H-W biographer says H-W's dispatch home says the defection happened for more boring reasons, and that this episode goes back to Rulhière. If you read The King's Secret and the H-W bio, you will constantly see the former uncritically accepting Rulhière's take, and the latter claiming Rulhière is guilty of pro-French bias, and saying that if you read H-W's and the Comte de Broglie's actual envoy reports, you get a more realistic picture.

( Salon discusses )

Toussaint Louverture

[mildred_of_midgard]

luzula: Another book report from me!

Toussaint Louverture: A Revolutionary Life by Philippe Girard (2016)
This had been on my ereader for years, probably bought on some ebook sale; I picked it up now because it's a part of the 18th century I knew little about. The only thing I knew beforehand was that Toussaint Louverture (which my dictation program picks up as "to some liberty", very fitting) led a successful revolt against slavery on Haiti around the time of the French Revolution. He seems to have been a complicated man!

It's interesting how the 18th century politics I already know about played out in Saint Domingue (which became Haiti). At first, it was the white colonizers who wanted independence from France (because they were afraid the French revolution would take their privileges away), and the enslaved black people fought as royalists! I guess this is not as surprising as you might think--people often seem to hate their immediate overlords the most (peasants their feudal landlord, enslaved people their slave drivers and owners) while the king appears as a far-off benevolent figure who would fix things if only he knew. And in fact the French king had enacted some legislation to try to rein in cruelties in slavery, under the pressure of abolitionists. But over time, Toussaint Louverture and other leaders shifted over to "rights of man" arguments, similar to the French revolutionaries, and he seems to have been fiercely resentful of racism.

I can't help but note some of the arguments of the plantation owners, because plus ca change: "Actually our slaves are perfectly happy and would never revolt if not for OUTSIDE AGITATORS!" "Actually WE are the slaves, because government wants to take our liberties [i e our property rights, i e our right to own people] away!"

It's also interesting how racism increased during the 17th and 18th centuries--at first, social station/class sometimes trumped race, such that people of color could be plantation owners, and poor white people were classed with poor free people of color. But at the end of the period, there was a crackdown on wealthier free people of color, who often owned enslaved people of their own or aspired to it, to keep them down economically and socially. Toussaint Louverture was born enslaved but was freed later on, so he was part of that class.

I can see why he was often called "the black Napoleon" at the time – he was a military leader in a revolutionary war, and after his side had won, he installed himself as military dictator for life. Also he became the richest man on the island, which does not surprise me, because getting private gain from public office is pretty much the standard for 18th century elites. He upheld the abolition of slavery, but he also ordered the former field slaves back to the same work on their previous estates and used the army to enforce his labor laws. At first, people could switch estates once a year, but after a while this was not allowed. The sale of small plots of land was forbidden, to prevent people from setting up small farms of their own. This is admittedly better than being enslaved (you can’t be bought and sold, and you’re at least supposed to get a wage) but the field workers revolted against these conditions, and Louverture had several thousand of them killed. (The book notes that white French abolitionists might have used a similar system, had they had control of the island—it’s not slavery, after all…)

So why did he do this? Obviously he stood to gain from it financially since he now owned many of these estates, but it seems he mainly wanted to prove that a country with black leadership could hold its own economically – the main export was sugar which apparently required large plantations and refineries. When Napoleon (temporarily) conquered the island back after a few years, his representative said "I will more or less follow Toussaint’s labor code, which is very good, and so strict, that I would never have dared to propose one like this on my own."

After reading the book, I read four reviews of it in peer-reviewed journals, since after all I don’t know this subject and don’t know if the book could be biased. The reviews all agree that the book is based on thorough archival research which has uncovered many new sources which were not known before, and they don’t disagree with any facts. Two of the reviews however don’t agree with the author about some of his interpretations of Louverture’s motivations, and don’t think he’s generous enough towards him. It doesn’t surprise me that interpretations vary – a figure like this is bound to be controversial.

Mildred: there's very little info on the military aspects of the revolution (clearly not the author's interest), except that the author says that Louverture quite deliberately used disease as a factor on his side--he would delay such that yellow fever and other diseases would decimate the soldiers newly come from France. And it killed a LOT of them.

But! As it turned out, mildred_of_midgard had already read this book.

First, selenak had read Mike Duncan's Hero of two Worlds: The Marquis de Lafayette in the Age of Revolution and reviewed it here. Then, in response to a discussion about Lafayette's proposal to turn his sugar plantation into an enterprise operated via free, paid laborers instead of slaves, lizrael commented, "I'm not convinced that the kind of sugar cane plantation (I'm assuming it was sugar cane?) that was common in Caribbean could succeed as a fair and humane enterprise in competition with slave plantations, but it would have been very interesting to find out if it there was any way it could!"

And mildred_of_midgard commented:

Interestingly, Louverture tried exactly this, during the Haitian Revolution, and failed. However, the deck was stacked against him, so it's not proof that a plantation owner couldn't have made it work. (According to the Louverture biography I read, the only previous attempt had been Lafayette's--and that author mentions nothing about how it ended, perhaps because that was irrelevant to the discussion at hand.)

But I found the discussion of free and slave plantations in Haiti in the book I read just fascinating.

First and foremost--and based on your comment, you probably know this--sugarcane was a crop that was very complex to produce. It required expensive infrastructure and division of labor, which meant a huge up-front investment and a large workforce. Other crops, you could just plant in your field and grow them; sugarcane was a different beast.

So in order to get a free sugar plantation going, you would have had to get a large amount of people willing to work together on the plantation.

This was a problem during the Haitian revolution, because the newly freed slaves associated plantation work with slavery, and quite understandably didn't want to keep doing the same thing they'd always done. Their goal was to divide up the huge plots of land and farm it individually, each person feeling like he or she was working for themselves/their family, and not part of a huge enterprise. They could have grown coffee, or something like that, using this method.

But Louverture was dead set on sugarcane plantation or bust, and that was as much for psychological reasons as the former slaves' refusal was. In Louverture's mind, he had to prove to the world that free blacks could be just as successful or more successful than slaves, and that meant successful at the same thing. If ending slavery meant abandoning the sugarcane plantation model, that was not a very good economic argument for abolition. He also needed to bring in enough of a profit that he could fund the military to fight off the major European powers currently trying to bring Haiti back to the status quo.

But sugarcane work was so unpopular that even once Louverture started offering wages, he could not get the workers into the fields except at gunpoint. At which point the former slaves were like, "Are you *sure* we are former slaves? Or did we just change masters?" And while Haiti wasn't producing sugar, supply dropped and prices rose worldwide, making the economic argument even harder to sell.

If, instead, you had a Lafayette-type system where the slaves were voluntarily freed by the whites and didn't have to worry about invasion and reconquest, and where race relations were better, would the former slaves have been so dead set against the plantation model? Hard to say. Self-determination counts for a lot; individual farms might still have been more popular.

But how profitable was the slave-based plantation? The author I read argued that all the contemporary claims that it was extremely profitable were "book cooking" arguments made in the face of abolitionists arguing that slavery wasn't profitable. So you can't trust the inflated self-published numbers, and there aren't really good reliable numbers.

Still, there's indirect evidence that planters were facing hardships, some of which were caused by the reasons selenak points out: high slave mortality, and not so much the need to retrain (because sugarcane plantation work was less about skilled labor than about brute force manual labor), but the fact that these slaves were super unmotivated to be especially productive. Which, of course, fed into racist arguments that Africans were so lazy that slavery was necessary to make them work at all.

It's also worth pointing out that the colonies were founded under the mercantilist model, where the point, as far as the government was concerned, *wasn't* to make planters a profit. (The planters obviously had a different opinion here.) The point was to raise exports for the mother country, so that the import-export ratio for France as a whole was more favorable compared to that of other nations. So as long as the Caribbean plantations gross sugar export volume was high, the profit level mattered less--so slave-based plantations may have been unprofitable even at their peak.

The book I read was Philippe Girard's Toussaint Louverture, which has been criticized in reviews for being too hard on Louverture, and I have not yet read Black Spartacus, which has been called hagiographical, as a counterpoint. So take all discussion of Louverture's personal culpability with that caveat.

( Salon discusses )