To describe the transition from slavery to freedom, Chapter 2 centers on the evolution and development of tutelle and its relationship to other forms of servility in nineteenth-century Senegal. It begins with an exploration of slavery in highly stratified Wolof society, and the use of slaves in urban Senegal where domestic labor was pervasive before 1848. Some slaves became part of French naval operations manning garrisons. Others worked as domestics, stevedores, and boat hands. Still others worked as helpers in the construction industry. Slaves were artisans and laptots (sailors). Enslaved minors, mostly female, were largely confined to domestic tasks in urban households headed by signares and others. The chapter traces the roots of engagement à temps – a form of indentured labor to which a significant number of women and children were subjected under the same conditions in Saint-Louis. It deals with the process of redemption from slavery through rachat (ransom), and highlights judicial cases and rulings which demonstrate how the process was abused. The chapter ends with the 1849 decree under which Governor Baudin created guardianship councils for boys and girls in Saint-Louis and Gorée simultaneously.

Chapter 1 offers a brief historical overview of nineteenth-century urban Senegal, with a focus on Saint-Louis. It begins with the never-ending territorial rivalry between the Portuguese, English, French, and Dutch, which ended with French dominance in the eighteenth century. It discusses the ethno-cultural groups who lived in and contributed to the economic life of the region. These were the originaires or first inhabitants of Saint-Louis, European merchants, traders, administrators, civil servants, and the métis – the product of mariage à la mode du pays (marriage according to the custom of the country) between European men and African women, whose female offspring became known as signares. The French referred to these groups collectively as habitants. Of the habitants, the signares played a significant role in the economic development of the region, and feature prominently in the chapter. They engaged in trade, including the slave trade, which, in addition to inheritances, enabled them to acquire substantial holdings in real estate, river boats, and slaves, among them children, who remained in their households as wards after the abolition of slavery. The chapter ends with the harmonious coexistence of the habitants who practiced Islam and Christianity and the Catholic religious orders that served the community.

The introduction outlines the scope and parameters of the study and evaluates the historiography of child servitude in Senegal while pointing to the daunting challenges that researchers face in tackling this subject due to fragmented and spotty data. It begins by explaining the meaning of tutelle – a system of guardianship or wardship that emerged after 1848 when slavery ended in the French colonial empire. It associates guardianship with slavery and other forms of coercive labor systems such as engagement à temps or indentureship to which enslaved people, including children, were often subjected through the process of rachat or ransom from slavery. It posits that guardianship in Senegal was institutionalized servitude sanctioned by the colonial administration which spearheaded the distribution of liberated and orphaned children, formerly enslaved and free, to habitants – African and European merchants, traders, and residents, primarily in Saint-Louis – the most important and vibrant economic entity in urban Senegal. Of the habitants, the signares – mixed-race women (métis) – played a major role in shaping guardianship that subsequent chapters explore. The introduction ends with an outline of the chapters that encompass the social condition of children in tutelle in colonial Senegal from 1848 to 1910.

Positing that African countries willingly commemorate the transatlantic slave trade but forget the legacies of domestic slavery, this chapter examines the continuation of slavery in the shadows of the House of Slaves at Gorée Island. To examine these hidden legacies of slavery, this chapter looks at the history of the mixed-race Signares and their historical implication in the slave trade and domestic slavery. One of the moral conundrums in the legacy of the Signares is their mixed parentage of European fathers and subordinate Black mothers, placing race at the heart of the cultural creolization (métissage) that is celebrated today as the legacy of Signares. This chapter establishes that the heritages of the slave trade and the Signares are framed as irreconcilable discourses that lead to divergent interpretations of the material culture of the island. Examining a controversial statue, the island’s architectural legacies, the impersonators of Signares, and the Festival of Return, this chapter establishes that the antinomies between the legacies of the slave trade and the Signares are occasionally overcome in rituals of reconciliation.

During the slave trade, Signares kept domestic slaves and accumulated considerable wealth. As Signares walked to Midnight Mass, their dresses were illuminated by the light of lanterns made and carried by their slaves, highlighting their wealth. This chapter examines the historical origins of the lantern festival or Fanal, as it is known in Saint-Louis, and its continuous performance as cultural heritage in the city. Celebrated as Creole legacy by President Senghor, he made it a national heritage. This chapter examines the assemblages the festival establishes between the patrons and their craftspeople as their relations are mediated by the materiality and performativity of the lanterns paraded at the festival. Although the heirs of the Signares left Saint-Louis at national independence and the festival has been appropriated by African citizens, it continues to celebrate forms of difference and distinction reminiscent of domestic slavery. Furthermore, by celebrating the achievements of the patrons, the lantern festival still establishes the status of patrons as ‘shining lights’ of the nation. This suggests that the African citizens who act as patrons have accepted the responsibilities with which their colonial predecessors have endowed them. Through colonial nostalgia they have assumed the legacy of colonialism.