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I recently told you about the reorganisation of the ‘Saint-Pierre 1902’ database. It focuses on the victims of the volcanic eruption, but it also provides a broader picture of society at the beginning of the 20th century. As I worked on restructuring the database, certain data caught my attention. In particular, I was struck by a few cases of requests to adopt orphans following the disaster, as these requests echoed a previous reading that had made a lasting impression on me: the book Une poupée en chocolat (A Chocolate Doll) by Amandine Gay. Today, I would like to share a brief overview with you.
Une poupée en chocolat by Amandine Gay, a remarkable essay
Une poupée en chocolat is a remarkable essay that draws on the author’s experience to explore the political issues and systemic violence in our societies today with regard to adoption. It is a book that touched me because it created a space for reflection on something that had never crossed my mind before. Of course, I had noticed all these white people adopting non-white children, but I had never questioned the adoption system, let alone in terms of colonialism and racism. I was mainly based on a very stereotypical view of adoption, seeing only the long and arduous journey of adults deciding to adopt an orphan, without ever thinking about what the adoption process entailed, particularly from the perspective of the adopted person and all the violence that this represents for them, both in childhood and adulthood. So, when I worked on the Saint-Pierre 1902 database, I thought back to Amandine Gay’s work, to the legal and cultural issues surrounding transnational and transracial adoption, to its colonial origins, to the depth of problematic practices that have long been part of our societies.
Adoptions of orphans from the 1902 disaster
There were many orphans following the 1902 disaster. There had been orphans before, too; losing a parent was not uncommon. Nearly 300 of the 2,000 files contain an orphan form. Some children (who were in school or had been moved out of the destroyed area before 8 May) lost both parents in 1902; others who had lost one parent prior to the disaster lost their second parent or guardian during the eruptions. Often, a close family member took care of the child: an uncle and aunt or grandparents, more rarely an older brother or sister, sometimes even a close relative with no family ties.
But it is not these cases that I wish to highlight. No. The ones that have touched me are much more disturbing, even clearly sickening. Among the multitude of files, a few notes bear witness to the relationships of domination and racism that existed at the time of the adoption requests for the orphans of the disaster.
Far from Martinique, some people apply to adopt children, but not just any children: race, docility and respectability are key factors in their choices. Léon Rochette’s files describe a former lace merchant in Turin who retired to Vals in 1880. According to the Prefecture of Haute-Loire, he was of good morality and had a comfortable income. In a letter dated 7 July 1902, it is stated that he « will travel to Paris as soon as the Martinican orphans eligible for adoption arrive in order to make his choice » and « he does not want a negress« . He was offered Camille Berthe, aged 9, from Gros-Morne, an orphan, the natural daughter of the late Marie Françoise Bonneau and an unknown white father. A few months later, the man gave up on adopting an orphan ‘as it is difficult to find one from a respectable family’.
In the same spirit, Mrs Gramet attached great importance to skin colour. The woman was the headmistress of a pre-school in the Seine department; she wanted to take in an orphan aged between six months and one year old. The Gramets were offered little Gabrielle, aged ten months, the natural daughter of parents who had died in the disaster. The child was « black but with a light complexion« , which was a deal-breaker for the Gramets. A letter recalls that the woman had a « desire to take in a child she could consider her own« , and that she « gave up on the process because the child offered seemed to have a dark complexion and frizzy hair« .
Other cases that struck me concern the search for domestic servants. Fifty-four years after the abolition of slavery, some people were planning to choose one from among orphaned children. Jeanne Dousset de Villevert, who lived in Paris, proposed to « adopt a 17- to 18-year-old black girl to serve as her domestic servant. » The letter specifies that « this young girl must be intelligent and docile, come from a respectable family, and have already served in a good household. » She is not the only one. In June 1902, wishing to take in an orphan from Martinique, Ch. Lechennes is described as a married man, father of two children, municipal tax collector in Algeria, former soldier in the 3rd Zouave Regiment, who had participated in the war against Germany and the repression of the Algerian uprising in 1871. Another letter from January 1903 recalls his desire to provide for the maintenance and education of an orphan aged between 12 and 14; Sylvanie Marie Geneviève Franquesty, born in Morne Rouge, aged 12, the orphaned daughter of Marie Philomène, a laundress who disappeared in the disaster, could have been the one. However, the request was rejected by the Prefect of Constantine « on the grounds that the applicant wished to make her a domestic servant in his employ« .
These are visible cases of abuse, but how many others have made requests without specifying equally questionable reasons? What bothers me here is not the placement as a domestic servant per se (although the relationshipsdans of domination implied by domesticity are equally questionable), but rather the fact that people are considering finding cheap labour through the orphans of the disaster. These requests always concern girls. Orphans boys have also been the subject of adoption requests, but I have not come across any similar issues in the files I have reviewed (which does not mean that there have not been any!).
Fortunately, not all adoption requests are of the same type. For example, I am more ambivalent about the motivations of Rose Latour (or Latour de Seyne). In June 1902, a letter states that she is a corset maker, residing in La Seyne-sur-Mer, and that she wishes to adopt a Martinican orphan girl (black or white) aged between 12 and 15, whom she would train and who could later manage her interests. Another letter from September 1902 reveals that she was 31 years old and divorced. The woman wanted to adopt the orphan Germaine Pignol, aged 14, a student at the colonial pensionnat, whose mother, a seamstress, had died in the disaster. However, after being looked after for a time by her godmother, the child was taken in by her uncle, the apostolic prefect of French Guiana.
The Var prefecture was in favour of Rose Latour’s adoption application, so other orphans were suggested to her (Angèle Fabre, Émilienne Rafin). It was eventually in Louise Leroy d’Harcourt’s file that we learn that, at the end of October 1902, her niece, Désirée Martin, « burned during the eruption of 30/08/1902 at Morne Rouge but a survivor« , was in the process of being adopted by Rose Latour. She was 13-14 years old and was the daughter of Pierre Martin and Joséphine Marie Leroy d’Harcourt, who had not survived their injuries. This could still be a case of outright exploitation of a minor, but I tend to think that it may also be a case of demonstrating the ability to provide resources and a future for the child requested by a woman who could be assessed as having an overly fragile socio-economic situation.
While collecting data on Désirée Martin, I realised that she was not the only child of the deceased couple. In September 1902, Louise Leroy d’Harcourt had requested repatriation to France for herself and the Martin orphans. Désirée had a little brother, Pierre Louis Joseph (aged 8 in 1902); who reappears in a letter from 1809. He was now 15 years old and was a pupil of the Martinique disaster relief committee, a student at the Carnot College in Fontainebleau, from where he had run away. His relocation was being considered. Their aunt was still living in Fort-de-France.
All this makes me wonder. How do adopted people who are displaced to the French mainland, lose their family, cultural, geographical and sometimes linguistic ties, and must also bear the burden of gratitude towards their adoptive family or the state, develop? Were these people able to overcome the violence of their uprooting in 1902, in addition to the horror of the disaster they experienced? How does one become a family? Is it even possible to become a family when some adoptive parents have a utilitarian view of adoption? What do these adoption mechanisms say about family policies?
My aim here is not to produce an in-depth analysis of orphans and adoption in 1902, but to remind you that this database offers more than just the opportunity to trace the individual destinies of ancestors; it is also a tool for questioning society as a whole and contributing to our reflections on major issues. In my case, the database has contributed to a necessary reflection on the history of adopted people by illustrating some of the points made by Amandine Gay on the issues and violence of adoption in France.
French Bibliography
- Gay, Amandine. Une poupée en chocolat. La Découverte, 2021.
- (*)Guillaume, Pierre. « Les victimes de la Montagne Pelée en 1902, l’accueil bordelais ». Revue historique de Bordeaux et du département de la Gironde 3, nᵒ 1 (2003): 143‑54. https://doi.org/10.3406/rhbg.2003.1437
This article refers to other cases of orphans.
Webography
Tan Listwa 