The Last Princess of Saint-Domingue

Middle Passage

Atlantic Ocean

1783

Eni was naked. Her neck and ankles were encased in heavy iron shackles. She laid on her back chained to a plank bed, struggling to breathe in hot dense air. Every now and then, warm urine flowed around her. The putrid stench of human feces stung Eni's eyes and nostrils.

She kept track of the days by watching the moonlight flickering through slits in the ship's hull. They had been on a ship for two new moons and despite their horrid state, the Queen's baby was still alive. Eni could feel the soft rise and fall of the infant next to her. Still wrapped in Mamma's colorful headscarf, the baby was tightly wedged within Eni's underarm, blissfully slumbering.

She was amazed at the infant's resiliency. Weeks ago along the African shore, Eni had been beaten, stripped, and shackled by her neck and feet alongside her kinswomen. When they had boarded the large ship, Eni saw several of King Fon's royal guards thrown overboard. Their pride prevented them from accepting such humility at the hands of White men. Some royal guards viciously fought the White men, earning them instant execution by drowning for such insolence. At first, Eni wanted to join them, desiring to jump in the enticing blue waters and break free of the impending misery that awaited her, but she could not shake Mamma's admonition to her. For the sake of the Queen's baby, Eni decided to find the will to survive.

Yet the hope of survival decreased with every passing night. Each morning, several of her kinsmen and kinswomen did not awaken. Their bodies, stiff with rigor, quietly rotted among them. Only when their mortal stench reached the upper deck, did White men come down, holding their noses, coughing, and wiping their eyes. Some of the Africans speculated that the bodies were burned while others said they were thrown into the sea. Eni hoped the waters claimed them so as to have an easier journey to the afterlife.

As she laid, Eni painfully turned her head to gaze at the infant. The baby had miraculously grown fat. Her plump cheeks glistened in the shadows, oblivious to the Africans' humiliating plight. When awake, the infant often sang her gibberish songs amidst groans of those around her, naïve to the reality of what was happening; that an entire African kingdom had been sold into slavery. Some Africans prayed for death. Others called the gods to save them. Clinging to Mamma's words about survival, Eni tried to find stillness in her heart. While others prayed for death, she often closed her eyes in the cramped space and prayed for life.

Occasionally, White men would bring her and other mothers and their children to the upper deck. Eni, chained by the neck to the women before and behind her, would clutch the Queen's baby under her arm as they were dragged upstairs. For several precious minutes, Eni would breathe in the clean ocean air. At those times, she tried to eavesdrop on the White men's conversations. Although she did not understand French, Eni had been able to make out two words: "Saint-Domingue." Noticing that the White men said those words repeatedly in their speech, she concluded that Saint-Domingue was the ship's final destination. Each time when Eni and the other mothers returned to the hull, the Africans called out in agony to the White men. They pled for food, for water, for medicine, but the White men ignored them. They simply re-chained the mothers to their planks before quickly returning to the upper deck.

In the midst of the Africans' misery, arguments often broke out amongst those who still had strength to speak. Most of the conversations were among the survivors of King Fon's royal army. Some African soldiers hotly expressed their anger for the defeat of the king.

"He was ambushed!" said one soldier.

"Yes, he was caught from behind and killed," said another.

"It was our enemy who did it," said another anonymous voice.

"Where is the King's principal son, Omorédé, eh?" asked an angry soldier.