A Brief History of Martinique

Discovery by Columbus

Columbus procrastinated about the exploration of Martinique. He landed his crew on the shores of Dominica, Marie-Galante and Guadeloupe as soon as his ships came upon them during his second voyage in 1493, but he had heard disturbing stories about the mystical island to the south, so he was in no hurry to go there.

The stories had come from natives on Hispaniola (Haiti and the Dominican Republic). During his first voyage, the Arawak and Ciguayo Indians had warned him of flesh-eating tribes and dangerous Amazon women. So, if Columbus passed near the shores of Martinique in 1493, he said little about it, and certainly didn’t disembark. However, by 1502, during his fourth voyage, he summoned the courage to land his fleet on the northwest coast near today’s town of Le Carbet.

What he found was an island of incredible beauty inhabited by the same Carib Indians that he had encountered on all the other islands in the Lesser Antilles. While the Caribs were not glad to see him, they were no larger or more ferocious than their inhospitable (and possibly cannibalistic) kinsmen on other islands. Nevertheless, once it was determined that Martinica (named after Saint Martin) lacked gold or other valuable resources, the Spanish showed little interest in colonizing it.

Arrival of The French

The French arrived in 1635. Pierre Bélain d’Esnam- buc set up a little colony on the northwest coast at the foot of Mont Pelée. That colony became the future capital city of Saint-Pierre. When d’Esnambuc died two years later, his nephew, Jacques du Parquet, assumed leadership. Parquet was a sharp arbitrator and aggressive businessman who managed to simultaneously pacify the Caribs, set up profitable sugar-producing colonies and build Fort Royal to guard against foreign invasion. Martinique prospered under Parquet’s direction, but after his death the French settlers grew greedy and militant and began to attack Carib villages and take over their land. In 1660, the small number of Caribs who survived were banished to other islands.

Sugar, Slavery and the British

As Martinique’s sugar production increased and “white gold” became more valuable in Europe, the British started to take an interest in the island. Between 1762 and 1814, England and France battled for control, but Martinique prospered under both countries rule, and the béké plantation owners grew rich and powerful through the labor of their black slaves.

Finally, in 1848, when plantation owners had lost some of their clout due to successful cultivation of sugar beets in Europe, French cabinet minister Victor Schoelcher was able to convince Martinique’s officials to sign the Emancipation Proclamation that ended slavery. Almost immediately, thousands of indentured workers from India poured onto the island to replace slave labor.

But the sugar market had taken too many blows, and the once-thriving factories began to close. Today, only one company still produces sugar on the island.

After the two world wars, Martinique’s status as a French colony was upgraded to that of a département d’outre-mer – an overseas department. This classification guaranteed islanders every benefit granted all French citizens. Later, it became a French région, with the representation of four deputies in the National Assembly and two senators in the Sénat.

The 20th Century

Destruction of the Martyred City

At the beginning of the 20th century, Martinique’s first town and original capital, Saint-Pierre, already enjoyed electricity, telephones, modern plumbing, mass transportation and newspapers. It was called “little Paris,” and “the pearl of the Antilles.” Life in the commercial port city was lively, privileged and cultured. Its 30,000 residents were highly educated, fashionably dressed connoisseurs of art, wine, food and architecture.

Then, at 8 o’clock on the morning of May 8, 1902, it all ended in a flash, as Montagne Pelée spewed incandescent gas and molten ash over the town and its inhabitants. Everything in the town and its port was buried. All but one of its residents died.

So what went wrong? How could a disaster of such magnitude take an entire city of intelligent people by surprise?

Some historians blame politics. Scientists say it was a type of eruption that was unknown at that time. Most likely, a combination of politics and an obscure phenomenon mixed with hapless fate to cause the massive catastrophe.

Saint-Pierre was founded in 1635 when Pierre Bélain d’Esnambuc arrived from France to set up a little colony on the northwest shore of Martinique. He constructed a small fort and chapel around which others built their houses, and named the settlement after the saint for whom he was christened. As more and more colonists arrived, two more chapels were built as centers for development, and the town naturally divided into three quartiers.

Saint-Pierre thrived and, even after the administrative capital was moved south to Fort-de-France, was the most important city on Martinique. On occasion, an earthquake would shake the buildings, or a deep rumble would come from the direction of the volcanic mountain that towered over the town. Yet, no one was disturbed enough to interrupt their pleasant lifestyle in order to investigate.

Early in 1902, some residents had begun to chat casually about the smell of sulphurous steam in the area. A few authorities commented that boiling water was filling a crater lake on the mountain. No one worried.

When scalding water and mud poured down the mountain and buried a plantation late that spring, several families sent their children to live with relatives on other parts of the island. But the governor of Martinique assured everyone that there was no cause for alarm. To prove his conviction, he brought his family from Fort-de-France to stay in Saint-Pierre.

On April 25, local officials were in the midst of an intense election campaign when Mont Pelée belched a few hot ashes onto the city. No need to panic, they said. Hardly anything to disrupt a campaign about, they insisted.

As May began, a series of lava flows affected nearby towns and plantations, but residents of Saint-Pierre went about their business. On the 5th of May, a tidal wave hit the city’s port, threw ships onto the beach and knocked down a few buildings. Still, the residents stayed.

Then, on May 8, as children finished their breakfasts and men hurried to the office, the volcano erupted in a flaming cloud of gas and ash. The force is said to have been more powerful than the blast of a nuclear bomb. Asphyxiating fumes and intense heat overtook the city and harbor within 90 seconds, and everything was buried where it stood.

Only one man survived the destruction of Saint- Pierre. Cyparis was locked in the local jail for being drunk and disorderly. Built around 1660, his dungeon- like cell had thick walls that saved his life. French sailors found him, burned and hungry, on May 11 as they dug through the rubble that was once a thriving city. Cyparis celebrated his rescue and liberation by joining P.T. Barnum’s circus, and toured for many years as the sole survivor of Mont Pelée.