This brings us to the consideration of the all-important subject called in America the “negro question,” but which is, nevertheless, the immortal question of the rights of man.

The inhabitants of Hayti consisted of 540,000 souls, and were divided into three distinct classes—the whites, the slaves, and the mulattoes and free blacks. The term mulatto comprehended all shades between whites and negroes. The whites conducted themselves as if born to command, and the blacks, awed into submission, yielded obedience to their imperious mandates, while the mulattoes were despised by both parties.

The freedom they enjoyed was rather nominal than real. On reaching a state of manhood each became liable to serve in a military establishment, the office of which was to arrest runaway slaves, protect travellers on the public roads, and, in short, to “mount a three years’ guard on the public tranquillity.” To complete their degradation, they were utterly disqualified from holding any office or place of public trust. No mulatto durst assume the surname of his father; and to prevent the revenge which such flagrant and contemptible injustice could hardly fail to excite, the law had enacted that if a free man of color presumed to strike a white man, his right arm should be cut off. In fact, they were not much above the condition of the free blacks in the United States. “On comparing the situation of these two classes of men”—the slaves and the nominally free—says Coke, “it is difficult to say which was the most degraded. The social difference was, without doubt, very great, but in the aggregate must have been about the same.”

Such was the state of affairs previous to 1790. What they have been subsequently remains to be seen. The whip of terror never yet made a friend. It may prevent men from being avowed enemies for a while, but it usually makes a deeper impression upon the heart than upon the skin. The heart is nearest the seat of recollection, and will stimulate to revenge for a long time after the wound has been inflicted, as the reader of the following pages will abundantly attest.

LETTER X.

Republic of Hayti.

It happened about this time that a considerable number of these mulattoes were in Paris, among whom was Vincent Ogé. This young man entered into the political questions relative to the people of color, which were then violently agitated, and became influenced with a conflict of passions at the wrongs which he and his degraded countrymen were apparently destined to endure. His reputed father was a white planter, of some degree of eminence and respectability, but he had been dead for years. Ogé was about 30 years of age; his abilities were far from being contemptible, but they were not equal to his ambition, nor sufficient to conduct him through that enterprise in which he soon after engaged. Supported in Paris in a state of affluence, he found no difficulty in associating with La Fayette, Gregorie, and Brissot, from whom he learned the prevailing notion of equality, and into the spirit of which he incautiously entered with all the enthusiasm and ardor natural to the youthful mind when irritated by unmerited injuries; and he determined to avenge his wrongs.

Induced to believe that all the mulattoes of Hayti were actuated by the same high-minded principle, he sacrificed his fortune, prepared for hostilities, and sailed to join his brethren in Hayti.

What was Ogé’s disappointment when, after evading the vigilance of the police and secretly succeeding in reaching these shores, he found no party prepared to receive him, or willing to take up arms in their own defence! It probably might have been said of him also, “His heart is seared.”

About two hundred were at length prevailed upon to rally around his standard; and with this inadequate force he proceeded to declare his intentions, and actually dispatched a note to the governor to that effect.

In his military arrangements his two brothers were to act under him, with one Mark Chavine, as lieutenants. Ogé and his brothers were humane in their dispositions, and averse to the shedding of blood; but with Chavine the case was totally different.

Ferocious, sanguinary, and courageous, he began his career with acts of violence which it was impossible for Ogé to prevent.

Finally the brothers of Ogé joined Chavine in his petty depredations. White men were murdered as accident threw them in their way. The mulattoes, when they could not be induced to join them, were treated with every species of indignity; and one man in particular, who excused himself from joining them on account of his family, was murdered, together with his wife and six children.

The inhabitants of Cape François, alarmed at these outrages which they imagined to be committed by a far more formidable body of revolters than really existed, immediately took measures for their suppression.

A detachment of regular troops invested the mulatto camp, which, after making an ineffectual resistance in which many were killed, was entirely broken up. The whole troop dispersed. Ogé and his officers took refuge in the Spanish part of the island. The principal part of their ammunition and military stores immediately fell into the hands of the victors.

The triumphs of the whites over the vanquished insurgents were such that they proceeded from victory to insult. The lower orders especially discovered such pointed animosity against the mulattoes at large that they became seriously alarmed for their personal safety, and many regretted not having joined the now vanquished party.

Urged by fatal necessity many resorted to arms, so that several camps were formed in different parts of the colony far more formidable than that of Ogé. At this time Rigaud, the mulatto general, makes his appearance, declaring that no peace would be permanent “until one class of people had exterminated the other.”

In the midst of these commotions which presaged an approaching tempest, Peynier, the governor, resigned his office in favor of general Blanchelande. The first step of the latter was directed towards the unfortunate Ogé. The demand made on the Spanish governor for his arrest was peremptory and decisive. Twenty of Ogés followers, including one of his brothers, were speedily hung; but a severer fate awaited Ogé and Chavine. They were condemned to be broken alive, and were actually left to perish in that terrible condition on the wheel.

Chavine, the hardy lieutenant, met his destiny with that undaunted firmness which had marked his life. He bore the extremity of his torture with an invincible resolution, without betraying the least symptom of fear, and without uttering a groan at his excruciating sufferings.

With Ogé the case was widely different. When sentence was passed upon him his fortitude abandoned him altogether. He wept; he solicited mercy in terms of the most abject humility; but in the end he was hurried to execution, and left to expire in the most horrid agonies.

Previous to this the National Assembly in France, which had originally declared “That all men are born free, and continue free and equal as to their rights,” had to contradict this in order to pacify the planters, and to declare it was not their intention to interfere with the local institutions of the colonies.

It so happened, however, that with this decree they also transmitted to the governor a chapter of instructions, one of the articles of which expressed this sentiment: “That every person of the age of twenty-five and upwards, possessing property or having resided two years in the colony and paid taxes, should be permitted to vote in the formation of the colonial assembly.” It was like the Dred Scott decision of the United States, for the question immediately arose whether the term “every person” included the mulattoes.

It was just at this time that intelligence of the tragical death of Ogé, who had been previously well known in Paris, reached that city. The public mind was instantly inflamed against the planters almost to madness, and for some time those in the city were unable to appear in public, either to apologize for their brethren or defend themselves. To keep alive that resentment which had been awakened, a tragedy was founded on the dying agonies of Ogé, and the theatres of Paris conveyed the tidings of his exit to all classes of people.

Brissot and Gregorie, two well-known reformers, availing themselves of this auspicious moment, brought the case of the mulattoes before the National Assembly.

This was early in May, 1791. The eloquence displayed by Gregorie on this occasion was most marvellous, enforced by such facts as a state of slavery and degradation rarely fails to produce, and the whole finished by an affecting recital of the death of Ogé.

Amid the ardor with which he pleaded the cause of the mulattoes, a few persons attempted to stem the torrent by predicting the ruin of the colonies. “Perish the colonies,” exclaimed Robespierre in reply, “rather than sacrifice one iota of our principles.” The sentiment was reiterated amid the applauses of an enthusiastic Senate, and the National Assembly, on the 15th day of May, decreed that the people of color born of free parents should thenceforth have all the rights of French citizens; that they should have votes in the choice of representatives, and be eligible to seats both in the parochial and colonial assemblies.

The colonial representatives no sooner heard that these decisive steps were taken than they declared their office useless, and resolved to decline any further attempts to preserve the colonies.

The colonists who resided in the mother country heard the decree with indignation and amazement. But in the island, as soon as it became known, the planters sunk into a state of torpor, and appeared for a moment as if petrified into statues. All local feuds between the whites were immediately suspended, and all animosities swallowed up by what appeared to them an evil of unparalleled magnitude. The civic oath was treated with contempt; tumult succeeded subordination; proposals were made to hoist the British colors; and resolutions crowded on resolutions to renounce at once all connection with a country that had placed the rights of the mulattoes on an equal footing with their own.

The mulattoes, who became criminal from their color, were obliged to flee in every direction. Their homes afforded them no protection. They were threatened with shooting in the street; and thus menaced by destruction, they began to arm in every direction.

The governor beheld this commotion with palsied solicitude. He foresaw the evils that must burst upon the colony, without having it in his power to apply either a preventive or a remedy.

But a far more awful mine, surcharged with combustibles, and destined to appall all parties, was at that moment on the very eve of an explosion.

LETTER XI.

Republic of Hayti.

These, sensible of their condition, numbers, and powers, resolved, amid the general confusion, to assert their freedom and legislate for themselves. They had learned from the contentions of both their white and colored masters that violence was necessary to prosperity. Such measures they adopted; and no sooner adopted than they were carried into effect.

It was early on the morning of August 23, 1791, that a confused report began to circulate through the capital that the negroes were not only in a state of insurrection, but that they were consuming with fire what the sword had spared. A report so serious could not fail to spread the greatest alarm. It was credited by the timid, despised by the fearless, but was deeply interesting to all. Pretty soon the arrival of a few half-breathless fugitives confirmed the melancholy news; they had just escaped from the scene of desolation and carnage, and hastened to the town to beg protection and to communicate the fatal particulars. From these white fugitives (the scale had turned) it was learned that the insurrection was begun by the slaves on a plantation not more than nine miles from Cape François.

There, it appeared, in the dead of night, they had assembled together and massacred every branch of their master’s family that fell in their way. From thence they proceeded to the next plantation, where they acted in the same manner, and augmented their number with the slaves whom the murder of their master had apparently liberated. And so on they went, from plantation to plantation, recruiting their forces in proportion to the murders they committed, and extending their desolations as their numbers increased.

From the plantation of M. Flaville they carried off the wife and three daughters, and three daughters of the attorney, after murdering him before their faces. In many cases the white women were rescued from death with the most horrid intentions, and were actually compelled to suffer violation on the mangled bodies of their dead husbands, friends, or brothers, to whom they had been clinging for protection.

The return of daylight, for which those who had escaped the sword anxiously waited, to show them the full extent of their danger, was anticipated by the flames that now began to kindle in every direction. This was the work of but a single half night. The shrieks of the inhabitants and the spreading of the conflagration, occasionally intercepted by columns of smoke which had begun to ascend, formed the mournful spectacle which appeared through a vast extent of country when the day began to dawn.

It was now obvious that the insurrection was general and that the measures of the revolted slaves had been skilfully preconcerted, on which account the revolt became more dangerous. The blacks on the plantation of M. Gallifet had been treated with such remarkable tenderness that their happiness became proverbial. These, it was presumed, would retain their fidelity. So M. Odelac, the agent of the plantation, and member of the General Assembly, determined to visit them at the head of a few soldiers, and to lead them against the insurgents. When he got there he found they had not only raised the ensign of rebellion, but had actually erected for their standard THE BODY OF A WHITE INFANT, which they had impaled on a stake. So much for happy negroes and contented slaves! Retreat was impossible. M. Odelac himself was soon surrounded and murdered without mercy, his companions sharing the same fate—all except two or three, who escaped by instant flight only to add their tale to the list of woes.

The governor proceeded immediately to put the towns in a proper state of defence; and all the inhabitants were, without distinction, called upon to labor at the fortifications. Messengers were despatched to all the remotest places, both by sea and land, to which any communication was open, to apprise the people of their danger, and to give them timely notice to prepare for the defence. Through the promptitude with which the whites acted, a chain of posts was instantly established and several camps were formed.

But the revolt was now found to be even greater than imagined. The slaves, as if impelled by one common instinct, seemed to catch the contagion without any visible communication. Danger became every day more and more imminent, so much so that an embargo was laid on all the shipping, to secure the inhabitants a retreat in case of the last extremity. Among the different camps which had been formed by the whites were one at Grande Riviere and another at Dondon. Both of these were attacked by a body of negroes and mulattoes, and a long and bloody contest ensued. In the end the whites were routed and compelled to take refuge in the Spanish dominions. Throughout the succeeding night carnage and conflagration went hand in hand, the latter of which became more terrible from the glare which it cast on the surrounding darkness. Nothing remained to counteract the ravages of the insurgents but the shrieks and tears of the suffering fugitives, and these were usually permitted to plead in vain.

The instances of barbarity which followed are too horrible for description; nor should we be induced to transcribe any portion of them, were it not that many persons regard such statements as mere assertions unless accompanied by a record of the unhappy facts. The recital of a few, however, will set all doubts forever at rest.

“They seized,” says Edwards, “a Mr. Blenan, an officer of the police, and, having nailed him alive to one of the gates of his plantation, chopped off his limbs one by one with an axe.”

“A poor man named Robert, a carpenter, by endeavoring to conceal himself from the notice of the rebels, was discovered in his hiding-place, and the negroes declared that he should die in the way of his occupation; accordingly they laid him between two boards, and deliberately sawed him asunder.”

“All the white and even the mulatto children whose fathers had not joined in the revolt were murdered without exception, frequently before their eyes, or while clinging to the bosoms of their mothers. Young women of all ranks were first violated by whole troops of barbarians, and then, generally, put to death. Some of them, indeed, were reserved for the gratification of the lust of the leaders, and others had their eyes scooped out with a knife.”

“In the parish of Timbe, at a place called the Great Ravine, a venerable planter, the father of two beautiful young ladies, was tied down by the savage ringleader of a band, who ravished the eldest daughter in his presence, and delivered over the youngest to one of his followers. Their passions being satisfied, they slaughtered both the father and the daughters.”

“M. Cardineau, a planter of Grande Riviere, had two natural sons by a black woman. He had manumitted them in their infancy, and treated them with great tenderness. They both joined the revolt; and when their father endeavored to divert them from their purpose by soothing language and pecuniary offers, they took his money, and then stabbed him to the heart.”

Amid the worst of these scenes Mr. Edwards records that solitary and affecting instance wherein a soft-hearted slave saved the lives of his master and family by sending them adrift on the river by moonlight.[E] This is generally admitted to have been the Washington of Hayti, Toussaint L’Ouverture.

At this time, also, the mulatto chiefs, actuated by different motives, not only refused to adopt such horrid measures, but particularly declared their only intention in taking up arms was to support the decree of the 15th of May, which had acknowledged their rights, of which the whites had been endeavoring to deprive them, and proposed to lay down their arms provided the whites acknowledged them as equals.

The white inhabitants gladly availed themselves of an overture which, though it pressed hard on their ambition, afforded a prospect for deliverance from impending danger. A truce immediately took place, which they denominated a concordat. An act of oblivion was passed on both sides over all that had passed, the whites admitting in all its force the decree giving equality to the mulattoes. The sentence passed upon Ogé and the execution of it the concordat declared to be infamous, and to be “held in everlasting execration.” So much for Ogé.

Both parties now appeared to be equally satisfied, and a mutual confidence took place. Nothing remained but to induce the mulattoes to join the whites in the reduction of the negroes, now in a most formidable state of insurrection. To this the mulattoes consented. New troops were introduced from France. The whites were elated, and perfect tranquillity stood for a moment on the very tiptoe of anticipation.

But the great lesson of the revolution was speedily to be learned. The hurricane of terror which was yet to overcome them was at that moment on the Atlantic, and hastening with fatal impetuosity towards these uncertain shores.

UNION.

It was early in the month of September that intelligence reached France of the reception which the decree of the 15th of May had met with in Hayti. The tumult and horrid massacres which we have noticed were represented in their most affecting colors. Consequences more dreadful were still anticipated. The resolution of the whites never to allow the operation of the ill-fated decree was represented as immovable; and serious apprehensions were entertained for the loss of the colony.

The mercantile towns grew alarmed for the safety of their capitals, and petitions and remonstrances were poured in upon the National Assembly from every interested quarter for the repeal of that decree which they plainly foresaw must involve the colony in all the horrors of civil war, and increase those heaps of ashes which had already deformed its once beautiful plains.

The National Assembly, now on the eve of dissolution, listened with astonishment to the effects of a decree which, by acknowledging the rights of the mulattoes, it was expected would cover them with glory. The tide of popular opinion had begun to ebb; the members of the Assembly fluctuated in indecision; the friends of the planters seized each favorable moment to press their point, and actually procured a repeal of the decree at the same moment that it had become a medium of peace in Hayti.

At length the news reached these unhappy shores. The infatuated whites resolved to support the repeal, which would leave the mulattoes at their mercy. A sullen silence prevailed among the latter, interrupted at first by occasional murmurings and execrations, and finally exploding in a frenzy which produced the most diabolical excesses yet on record.

Rigaud’s original motto was again revived, and each party seemed to aim at the extermination of the other. The mulattoes made a desperate attempt to capture Port au Prince, but the European troops lately arrived defeated them with considerable loss. They nevertheless set fire to the city, which lighted up a conflagration in which more than a third part of it was reduced to ashes.

Driven from Port au Prince, by the light of those flames which they had kindled, the mulattoes established themselves at La Croix Bouquets in considerable force, in which port they maintained themselves with more than equal address. At last, finding themselves and the revolted slaves engaged in a common cause, they contrived to unite their forces, and with this view drew to their body the swarms that resided in Cul de Sac. Augmented with these undisciplined myriads they risked a general engagement, in which two thousand blacks were left dead on the field; about fifty mulattoes were killed, and some taken prisoners. The loss of the whites was carefully concealed, but is supposed to have been equally as destructive.

The furious whites seized a mulatto chief whom they had taken prisoner, and, to their everlasting infamy, upon him they determined to wreak their vengeance. They placed him in a cart, driving large spike nails through his feet into the boards on which they rested to prevent his escape, and to show their dexterity in torture. In this miserable condition he was conducted through the streets, and exposed to the insults of those who mocked his sufferings. He was then liberated from this partial crucifixion to suffer a new mode of torment. His bones were then broken in pieces, and finally he was cast alive into the fire, where he expired. So much for the whites.

The mulattoes, irritated to madness at the inhumanity with which one of their leaders had been treated, only awaited an opportunity to avenge his wrongs. Unfortunately, an opportunity soon occurred. In the neighborhood of Jerimie, M. Sejourne and his wife were seized. The lady was materially enciente. Her husband was first murdered before her eyes. They then ripped open her body, took out the infant and gave it to the hogs; after which they cut off her husband’s head and entombed it in her bowels. “Such were the first displays of vengeance and retaliation, and such were the scenes that closed the year 1791.”

LETTER XII.

Republic of Hayti.

The ancient proprietors of plantations, who in the former insurrections had been compelled to quit the island and seek an asylum in France, soon found in this act of independence a confirmation of their former suspicions. They saw that all their valuable possessions must be inevitably lost, and that forever, unless government could be prevailed on to send an armed force to crush at once a revolt which had become so formidable as to assume independence.

The complicated interests of commerce were instantly alarmed and awakened to action; powerful parties were formed; a horde of venal writers started immediately into notice; a change was wrought in the public sentiment as by the power of magic; and negro emancipation was treated in just the same manner that negro slavery had been treated before. Such was the fickleness of the French at that time, and such is the inconstancy of the human mind in ours.

Bonaparte, aiming himself at uncontrolled dominion, found it necessary to bribe all parties with gratifying promises to induce them to favor his views, and to enable him to introduce such changes in the form of government as he desired.

The transitory peace which had taken place in Europe produced at this time a band of desperate adventurers, who, destitute of employment, were ready for any enterprise that could afford them an opportunity to distinguish themselves. Accordingly an expedition of 26,000 men was fitted out, at the head of which was placed General le Clerc;[F] and such was the confidence of its success, that he was accompanied by his wife, (sister to Napoleon,) and her younger brother Jerome Bonaparte.

But it was not to the fleet and army that Napoleon trusted exclusively for success. A number of plotting emissaries had been secretly dispatched to tamper with the unsuspecting blacks, to sow the seeds of discord between parties, and to shake their confidence in Toussaint. Even Toussaint’s children had been prepared, by the deceitful caresses of the First Consul, to assist, by their representation of his conduct towards them, in the seduction of their father.

Le Clerc with his detachment of the French squadron, appeared off Cape François on the 5th day of January, 1802. General Christophe, who, during the absence of Toussaint, held the command, on perceiving the approach of the French fleet, immediately dispatched one of his officers to inform the commander of the squadron of Toussaint’s absence, and to assure him he could not permit any troops to land until he had heard from the General-in-Chief. “That in case the direction of the expedition should persist in the disembarkation of his forces without permission, he should consider the white inhabitants in his district as hostages for his conduct, and, in consequence of any attack, the place attacked would be immediately consigned to the flames.”

The inhabitants, trembling for their personal safety and the fall of the city, sent a deputation to assure Le Clerc that what had been threatened by Christophe would actually be realized should he persist in his attempt to land his forces.

Le Clerc, regardless of this destiny, and intent upon the gratification of his own ambition, proceeded to put on shore his troops, flattering himself with being able to gain the heights of the Cape before the blacks should have time to light up their threatened conflagration.

Christophe instantly perceived this movement, and, steady to his purpose, ordered his soldiers to defend themselves in their respective posts to the last extremity, and to sink if possible the ships of the assailants; but that when their own positions were no longer tenable, to remove whatever valuables could be preserved, reduce every thing besides to ashes, and retire.

Le Clerc did not reach the heights of the Cape until evening, and then only to behold the flames which Christophe had kindled, and which filled even the French soldiers with horror. They beheld with unavailing anguish the stately city in a blaze, the glare of which gilded the ceiling of heaven with a dismal light. Their expectation of a booty vanished in an instant, and the only reward which awaited them, they plainly perceived, was a heap of ashes or a bed of fire.

It was during these scenes of devastation on the shores that Toussaint was engaged in rendering the interior as formidable as possible; after the accomplishing of which he returned towards the ruins of the capital to discover if possible the real intentions of the French respecting the island, and to learn if any amicable proposition was to be made, which should secure to the inhabitants that freedom for which they had taken up arms.

In this moment of suspended rapine, Le Clerc resolved to try what effect a letter addressed personally to Toussaint by Napoleon would have upon the black commander, who was yet unapprised of its existence, or of the arrival of his sons from France. A courier was immediately dispatched with the former, and with intelligence that the latter were with their mother on his plantation, called Ennerry.

The wife and children of Toussaint, ignorant of the part they were to play, entertained, as the author of their happiness, Coison, the preceptor of their children, who was at that moment plotting their destruction.

Toussaint, animated with the feelings of an affectionate parent, hastened, on the receipt of the letter and intelligence of the arrival of his children, to fold them in his warm embrace. He reached the plantation the ensuing night. When his arrival was announced, the mother shrieked, and instantly became insensible from a delirium of joy. The children ran to meet their father, and sunk without utterance into his open arms. When the first burst of joy was over, and the hero turned to caress him to whom he immediately owed the delight he had experienced, Coison began his attack. He recapitulated the letters of Bonaparte and Le Clerc; he invited him to accede to them, and represented the advantages resulting from his submission in such glowing colors as could hardly fail to awaken some suspicions. He perfidiously declared that the armament was not designed to abridge the liberty of the blacks, and concluded with observing that, unless the proposed conditions were immediately acceded to his orders were to return the children to the Cape.

Toussaint retired for a few moments from the presence of his wife and children, to weigh the import of their common supplication. His awakened reason instantly discovered the snare which had been laid to entrap him, and he therefore indignantly replied: “Take back my children, if it must be so; I will be faithful to my brethren and my God!”[G] then, mounting his horse, rode off to the camp, from which place he returned a formal answer to Le Clerc.

Unfortunately Le Clerc’s bribery was not so ineffectual in other quarters. Many of Toussaint’s generals were induced to listen to the promises of Le Clerc, and

Among these was an officer named La Plume, who by his treachery threw a large district into the hands of the French, and also revealed to them those plans of operation with which Toussaint had entrusted him.

Such an act on the part of La Plume, in whom Toussaint had placed unlimited confidence, could not but cause him to distrust those who remained attached to the common cause; and who, perceiving these suspicions, grew lax in the obedience which they owed to his commands.

On the 24th of February a severe battle took place between the French troops under General Rochambeau, and those under General Toussaint, consisting of 1,500 grenadiers, 1,200 other chosen soldiers, and 400 dragoons. The position of the blacks was extremely well chosen, being in a ravine fortified by nature and protected by works of art. Rochambeau, availing himself of his local knowledge of the country, which he had obtained from La Plume, entered the ravine with as much address as Toussaint could have manifested, avoided the obstacles which had been thrown in his way, and commenced an attack on the entrenchments of the blacks. Toussaint was prepared to receive him, and a desperate battle ensued, in which both skill and courage were alike conspicuous. The day was extremely bloody, and the field which victory hesitated to bestow on either party was covered with the bodies of the slain. Both parties at the close of the day retired from the scene of action to provide rather for their future safety than to renew a fierce contention for a mere point of honor.

Rochambeau hastened with the remains of his division to join the French troops in the western province, who were unable to withstand the force of the black General Maurepas. The troops thus collected were put in action, and the doubtful issue of battle was expected to decide their fortune. But Le Clerc had recourse to his usual manœuvres, and Maurepas, seduced with the promise of retaining his rank under the auspices of Le Clerc, submitted to the French general without a struggle, and gave his posts into the enemy’s hands.

Le Clerc, finding he could conquer the blacks much more readily by winning their confidence than by swords, redoubled his efforts in this direction. The number of his emissaries was increased; their powers were enlarged, and they were sent forth as the missionaries of seduction to induce the unsuspecting inhabitants to put on their chains. Success in proportion to his professions attended their exertions. Even Christophe was induced to believe that the late proclamations, in which Le Clerc promised liberty to all, were sincere. And, finally, Toussaint, willing to prevent the effusion of blood, gave way to the representations of Christophe, who immediately entered into correspondence with Le Clerc.

A truce was formed on the ground of an oblivion of the past, the freedom of the men in arms, and the preservation of his own rank, that of Toussaint and Dessalines, and all the officers in connection with them. This proposition was made by Christophe, and agreed to by Toussaint; but Dessalines, dreading such an unnatural compromise, submitted only under protest. The proposals, after some hesitation on the part of Le Clerc, were accepted.

Hostilities ceased on the 1st of May.

Not one month past before Le Clerc seized Toussaint, his family, and about one hundred of his immediate associates, and placed them as prisoners on board the vessels then lying in the harbor. Many of the blacks were ordered to return to their labors under their ancient masters.

Toussaint, amazed at such an act of treachery and baseness, inquired the cause, but could obtain no other reply than that he must instantly depart. For himself he offered no excuse, declaring that he was ready to accompany his abductors in obedience to his orders; but as his wife was feeble and his children helpless, he begged earnestly that they might be permitted to remain. His expostulations were of course urged in vain.

Le Clerc, to rid the island for ever of a man whom he both feared and detested, prepared, soon after the capture of Toussaint, to send him to Europe, and with him a letter of accusation at once false, criminal, and malicious. A letter more dishonorable never crossed the Atlantic. Upon his arrival in France, Toussaint was immediately sent to prison in a remote province in the interior, and entirely secluded from the society of men.

Shut up in melancholy silence, in a dungeon horrid, damp, and cold, his suffering was not long. The Paris journals of April 27, 1803, say this—no more and no less: “Toussaint died in prison.”

As to his wife and children, they remained in close custody at Brest for about two months after their only friend was torn from them. They were then removed to the same province in which Toussaint had been imprisoned, without knowing anything either of his proximity or his fate. In this place, reduced to distress, they continued neglected and forgotten, a sad spectacle of fallen greatness.

Such was the fate of Toussaint L’Ouverture, the Washington, but not “the Napoleon,” of Hayti.

LETTER XIII.

Republic of Hayti.

THE violent and perfidious measures to which Le Clerc had resorted produced an effect diametrically opposed to that which he intended. On the distant mountains, particularly toward the Spanish division, innumerable hosts of blacks had taken up their residence and assumed a species of lawless violence. They ridiculed every idea of a surrender to the Europeans, notwithstanding the compromise which had been made with Toussaint and Christophe. Even among those who had submitted, the sudden seizure of their brave leader and about one hundred of his enlightened associates, of whose fate they could receive no satisfactory account, but who was supposed to have been murdered by Le Clerc, produced a spirit of indignation which was poured forth in execrations portending an approaching storm.

Le Clerc, seated on his painful eminence, saw in a great measure the danger of his situation, and endeavored to counteract the impending evil. But death at this moment was lessening the number of his troops, and sickness disabling the survivors from performing the common duties of their stations.

Dessalines, whose talents and valor, recognized by his countrymen, had caused him to be appointed to act as General-in-Chief, resolved not to dally with his faithless foes as Toussaint had done, but to bring this ferocious war to a speedy and decisive issue. Impressed with this resolution, he drew a considerable force into the plain of Cape François, with a design to attack the city. Rochambeau, perceiving his movements, exerted himself to strengthen the fortifications of the city, after which he determined to risk a general engagement.

Both parties were as well prepared for the event as circumstances would admit. The attack was begun by the French with the utmost resolution, and from the violence of the onset the troops of Dessalines gave way for a moment, and a considerable number fell prisoners into the hands of the French. But the power and courage of the blacks soon returned. The French were repulsed; and as a body of them were marching to strengthen one of the wings of their army, they were unexpectedly surrounded by the blacks, made prisoners of war, and driven in triumph to their camp.

With these vicissitudes terminated the day. At night the French general, to the disgrace of Europe, ordered the black prisoners to be put to death. The order was executed with circumstances of peculiar barbarity. Some perished on the spot; others were mutilated in their limbs, legs, and vital parts, and left in that horrible condition to disturb with their shrieks and groans the silence of the night.

But Rochambeau had to deal with a very different man from Toussaint—a man whose motto was, “Never to retaliate;” for under cover of the same inauspicious night Dessalines deliberately selected the officers from among his prisoners, then added a number of privates, and gibbeted them all together in a place most exposed to the French army.

Nor did the revenge of the black soldiers terminate even here. Burning with indignation against the men whose conduct had stimulated them to such inhuman deeds, they rushed down upon the French the ensuing morning, destroyed the camp, made a terrible slaughter, and compelled the flying fugitives to take refuge under the walls of Cape François. From this period the French were unable to face their opponents in the open field, and the victorious Dessalines immediately took steps to crush them in the city.

To add to the calamities of the French commander, the war between England and France was again renewed during this period of his distress. Unfortunately, however, he remained uninstructed by past experience, and his cruelty seemed to increase with the desperation of his circumstances. Pent up in the city, from which his forces durst not venture in a body, he contrived to detach small parties with bloodhounds to hunt down a few straggling negroes, who wandered through the woods unconscious of the impending danger. These when taken were seized with brutal triumph, and thrown to the dogs to be devoured alive.

Amid scenes and horrors as infamous as these, Le Clerc was summoned by the fever to appear before a higher tribunal to give an account of his deeds of darkness. He died on the 1st of November, after having been driven from Tortuga, his previous place of abode. Madame Le Clerc was present at the awful scene; then, departing with the body for Europe, bade a final farewell to a region which had promised her happiness, but paid her with anguish and mortification.

It was in the month of July that an English squadron, not fully apprised of the condition of the French army, made its appearance off the cape. This circumstance completely overwhelmed the besieged commander, who, while the blacks were fiercely crowding upon him, was perfectly conscious of his vulnerable condition as exposed to the British. He therefore opened a communication with the latter to learn what terms of capitulation he had to expect in case a proposition of that kind should be made. The terms required by the British being dreadfully severe, Rochambeau lost no time in strengthening the works towards the sea as well as towards the land, having every thing to fear from both quarters.

Meanwhile the victorious blacks continued to pour in reinforcements upon the plains of the cape. A powerful body now descended upon the French, and, having passed the outer lines and several blockhouses, prepared to storm the city in thirty-six hours.

Rochambeau, from a persuasion that all would be put to the sword, proceeded before it was too late to offer articles of capitulation, which, to the honor of Dessalines, by foregoing the desire of revenge, were accepted, granting the French ten days to evacuate the city—“an instance of forbearance and magnanimity,” says Rainsford, “of which there are not many examples in ancient or modern history.”

The articles of capitulation which Rochambeau had entered into were communicated by Dessalines to the British commodore. The latter, therefore, awaited the expiration of the appointed time to mark the important event. When the time had elapsed, Commodore Loring, perceiving no movement of the French towards evacuation, sent a letter to General Dessalines to inquire if any alteration had taken place subsequent to his last communication, and if not, to request him to send some pilots on board to conduct his squadron into the harbor to take possession of the French shipping. To this letter he received the following characteristic reply:—