SECRET HISTORY:

LETTER I.

Cape Francois.

We arrived safely here, my dear friend, after a passage of forty days, during which I suffered horribly from sea-sickness, heat and confinement; but the society of my fellow-passengers was so agreeable that I often forgot the inconvenience to which I was exposed. It consisted of five or six French families who, having left St. Domingo at the beginning of the revolution, were now returning full of joy at the idea of again possessing the estates from which they had been driven by their revolted slaves. Buoyed by their newly awakened hopes they were all delightful anticipation. There is an elasticity in the French character which repels misfortune. They have an inexhaustible flow of spirits that bears them lightly through the ills of life.

Towards the end of the voyage, when I was well enough to go on deck, I was delighted with the profound tranquillity of the ocean, the uninterrupted view, the beautiful horizon, and wished, since fate has separated me from those I love, that I could build a dwelling on the bosom of the waters, where, sheltered from the storms that agitate mankind, I should be exposed to those of heaven only. But a truce to melancholy reflections, for here I am in St. Domingo, with a new world opening to my view.

My sister, whose fortunes, you know, I was obliged to follow, repents every day having so precipitately chosen a husband: it is impossible for two creatures to be more different, and I foresee that she will be wretched.

On landing, we found the town a heap of ruins. A more terrible picture of desolation cannot be imagined. Passing through streets choaked with rubbish, we reached with difficulty a house which had escaped the general fate. The people live in tents, or make a kind of shelter, by laying a few boards across the half-consumed beams; for the buildings being here of hewn stone, with walls three feet thick, only the roofs and floors have been destroyed. But to hear of the distress which these unfortunate people have suffered, would fill with horror the stoutest heart, and make the most obdurate melt with pity.

When the French fleet appeared before the mouth of the harbour, Christophe, the Black general, who commanded at the Cape, rode through the town, ordering all the women to leave their houses—the men had been taken to the plain the day before, for he was going to set fire to the place, which he did with his own hand.

The ladies, bearing their children in their arms, or supporting the trembling steps of their aged mothers, ascended in crowds the mountain which rises behind the town. Climbing over rocks covered with brambles, where no path had been ever beat, their feet were torn to pieces and their steps marked with blood. Here they suffered all the pains of hunger and thirst; the most terrible apprehensions for their fathers, husbands, brothers and sons; to which was added the sight of the town in flames: and even these horrors were increased by the explosion of the powder magazine. Large masses of rock were detached by the shock, which, rolling down the sides of the mountain, many of these hapless fugitives were killed. Others still more unfortunate, had their limbs broken or sadly bruised, whilst their wretched companions could offer them nothing but unavailing sympathy and impotent regret.

On the third day the negroes evacuated the place, and the fleet entered the harbour. Two gentlemen, who had been concealed by a faithful slave, went in a canoe to meet the admiral's vessel, and arrived in time to prevent a dreadful catastrophe. The general, seeing numbers of people descending the mountain, thought they were the negroes coming to oppose his landing and was preparing to fire on them, when these gentlemen informed him that they were the white inhabitants, and thus prevented a mistake too shocking to be thought of.

The men now entered from the plain and sought among the smoaking ruins the objects of their affectionate solicitude. To paint these heart-rending scenes of tenderness and woe, description has no powers. The imagination itself shrinks from the task.

Three months after this period we arrived and have now been a month here, the town is rapidly rebuilding, but it is extremely difficult to find a lodging. The heat is intolerable and the season so unhealthy that the people die in incredible numbers. On the night of our arrival, Toussaint the general in chief of the negroes, was seized at the Gonaives and embarked for France. This event caused great rejoicing. A short time before he was taken, he had his treasure buried in the woods, and at the return of the negroes he employed on this expedition, they were shot without being suffered to utter a word.

Clara has had the yellow fever. Her husband, who certainly loves her very much, watched her with unceasing care, and I believe, preserved her life, to which however she attaches no value since it must be passed with him.

Nothing amuses her. She sighs continually for the friend of her youth and seems to exist only in the recollection of past happiness. Her aversion to her husband is unqualified and unconquerable. He is vain, illiterate, talkative. A silent fool may be borne, but from a loquacious one there is no relief. How painful must her intercourse with him be; and how infinitely must that pain be augmented by the idea of being his forever? Her elegant mind, stored with literary acquirements, is lost to him. Her proud soul is afflicted at depending on one she abhors, and at beholding her form, and you know that form so vilely bartered. Whilst on the continent she was less sensible of the horrors of her fate. The society of her friend gave a charm to her life, and having married in compliance with his advice, she thought that she would eventually be happy. But their separation has rent the veil which concealed her heart; she finds no sympathy in the bosom of her husband. She is alone and she is wretched.

General Le Clerc is small, his face is interesting, but he has an appearance of ill health. His wife, the sister of Buonaparte, lives in a house on the mountain till there can be one in town prepared for her reception. She is offended, and I think justly, with the ladies of the Cape, who, from a mistaken pride, did not wait on her when she arrived, because having lost their cloaths they could not dazzle her with their finery.

Having heard that there were some American ladies here she expressed a desire to see them; Mr. V—— proposed to present us; Clara, who would not walk a mile to see a queen, declined. But I, who walk at all times, merely for the pleasure it affords me, went; and, considering the labour it costs to ascend the mountain, I have a claim on the gratitude of Madame for having undertaken it to shew her an object which she probably expected to find in a savage state.

She was in a room darkened by Venetian blinds, lying on her sofa, from which she half rose to receive me. When I was seated she reclined again on the sofa and amused general Boyer, who sat at her feet, by letting her slipper fall continually, which he respectfully put on as often as it fell. She is small, fair, with blue eyes and flaxen hair. Her face is expressive of sweetness but without spirit. She has a voluptuous mouth, and is rendered interesting by an air of languor which spreads itself over her whole frame. She was dressed in a muslin morning gown, with a Madras handkerchief on her head. I gave her one of the beautiful silver medals of Washington, engraved by Reich, with which she seemed much pleased. The conversation languished, and I soon withdrew.

General Le Clerc had gone in the morning to fort Dauphin.

I am always in good spirits, for every thing here charms me by its novelty. There are a thousand pretty things to be had, new fashions and elegant trinkets from Paris; but we have no balls, no plays, and of what use is finery if it cannot be shewn?

The natives of this country murmur already against the general in chief; they say he places too much confidence in the negroes. When Toussaint was seized he had all the black chiefs in his power, and, by embarking them for France, he would have spread terror throughout the Island, and the negroes would have been easily reduced, instead of which he relies on their good faith, has them continually in his house, at his table, and wastes the time in conference which should be differently employed. The Creoles shake their heads and predict much ill. Accustomed to the climate, and acquainted with the manner of fighting the Negroes, they offer advice, which is not listened to; nor are any of them employed, but all places of honour or emolument are held by Europeans, who appear to regard the Island as a place to be conquered and divided among the victors, and are consequently viewed by the natives with a jealous eye. Indeed the professed intention of those who have come with the army, is to make a fortune, and return to France with all possible speed, to enjoy it. It cannot be imagined that they will be very delicate about the means of accomplishing their purpose.

The Cape is surrounded; at least the plain is held by the Negroes; but the town is tranquil, and Dessalines and the other black chiefs are on the best terms with general Le Clerc.

We are to have a grand review next week. The militia is to be organized, and the general is to address the troops on the field. He has the reputation of being very eloquent, but he has shocked every body by having ordered a superb service of plate, made of the money intended to pay the army, while the poor soldiers, badly cloathed, and still more badly fed, are asking alms in the street, and absolutely dying of want.

A beggar had never been known in this country, and to see them in such numbers, fills the inhabitants with horror; but why should such trifling considerations as the preservation of soldiers, prevent a general in chief from eating out of silver dishes?

We have neither public nor private balls, nor any amusement except now and then a little scandal. The most current at this moment is, that Madame Le Clerc is very kind to general Boyer, and that her husband is not content, which in a French husband is a little extraordinary. Perhaps the last part of the anecdote is calumny.

Madame Le Clerc, as I learned from a gentleman who has long known her, betrayed from her earliest youth a disposition to gallantry, and had, when very young, some adventures of eclat in Marseilles. Her brother, whose favourite she is, married her to general Le Clerc, to whom he gave the command of the army intended to sail for St. Domingo, after having given that island, as a marriage portion, to his sister. But her reluctance to come to this country was so great, that it was almost necessary to use force to oblige her to embark.

She has one child, a lovely boy, three years old, of which she appears very fond. But for a young and beautiful woman, accustomed to the sweets of adulation, and the intoxicating delights of Paris, certainly the transition to this country, in its present state, has been too violent. She has no society, no amusement, and never having imagined that she would be forced to seek an equivalent for either in the resources of her own mind, she has made no provision for such an unforeseen emergency.

She hates reading, and though passionately fond of music plays on no instrument; never having stolen time from her pleasurable pursuits to devote to the acquisition of that divine art. She can do nothing but dance, and to dance alone is a triste resource; therefore it cannot be surprising if her early propensities predominate, and she listens to the tale of love breathed by General Boyer, for never did a more fascinating votary offer his vows at the Idalian shrine. His form and face are models of masculine perfection; his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm, and his voice is modulated by a sweetness of expression which cannot be heard without emotion. Thus situated, and thus surrounded, her youth and beauty plead for her, and those most disposed to condemn would exclaim on beholding her:

I suppose you'll laugh at this gossip, but 'tis the news of the day, nothing is talked of but Madame Le Clerc, and envy and ill-nature pursue her because she is charming and surrounded by splendor.

I have just now been reading Madame De Stael on the passions, which she describes very well, but I believe not precisely as she felt their influence. I have heard an anecdote of her which I admire; a friend, to whom she had communicated her intention of publishing her memoirs, asked what she intended doing with the gallant part,—Oh, she replied, je ne me peindrai qu'en buste.

LETTER II.

Cape Francois.

What a change has taken place here since my last letter was written! I mentioned that there was to be a grand review, and I also mentioned that the confidence General Le Clerc placed in the negroes was highly blamed, and justly, as he has found to his cost.

On the day of the review, when the troops of the line and the guarde nationale were assembled on the field, a plot was discovered, which had been formed by the negroes in the town, to seize the arsenal and to point the cannon of a fort, which overlooked the place of review, on the troops; whilst Clairvaux, the mulatto general, who commanded the advanced posts, was to join the negroes of the plain, overpower the guards, and entering the town, complete the destruction of the white inhabitants. The first part of the plot was discovered and defeated. But Clairvaux made good his escape, and in the evening attacked the post General Le Clerc had so imprudently confided to him. The consternation was terrible. The guarde nationale, composed chiefly of Creoles, did wonders. The American captains and sailors volunteered their services; they fought bravely, and many of them perished. The negroes were repulsed; but if they gained no ground they lost none, and they occupy at present the same posts as before. The pusillanimous General Le Clerc, shrinking from danger of which his own imprudence had been the cause, thought only of saving himself. He sent his plate and valuable effects on board the admiral's vessel, and was preparing to embark secretly with his suite, but the brave admiral La Touche de Treville sent him word that he would fire with more pleasure on those who abandoned the town, than on those who attacked it.

The ensuing morning presented a dreadful spectacle. Nothing was heard but the groans of the wounded, who were carried through the streets to their homes, and the cries of the women for their friends who were slain.

The general, shut up in his house, would see nobody; ashamed of the weakness which had led to this disastrous event, and of the want of courage he had betrayed: a fever seized him and he died in three days.

Madame Le Clerc, who had not loved him whilst living, mourned his death like the Ephesian matron, cut off her hair, which was very beautiful, to put it in his coffin; refused all sustenance and all public consolation.

General Rochambeau, who is at Port au Prince, has been sent for by the inhabitants of the Cape to take the command. Much good is expected from the change, he is said to be a brave officer and an excellent man.

Monsieur D'Or is in the interim Captain General, and unites in himself the three principal places in the government: Prefect Colonial, Ordonnateur, and General in Chief.

All this bustle would be delightful if it was not attended with such melancholy consequences. It keeps us from petrifying, of which I was in danger.

I have become acquainted with some Creole ladies who, having staid in the Island during the revolution, relate their sufferings in a manner which harrows up the soul; and dwell on the recollection of their long lost happiness with melancholy delight. St. Domingo was formerly a garden. Every inhabitant lived on his estate like a Sovereign ruling his slaves with despotic sway, enjoying all that luxury could invent, or fortune procure.

The pleasures of the table were carried to the last degree of refinement. Gaming knew no bounds, and libertinism, called love, was without restraint. The Creole is generous hospitable, magnificent, but vain, inconstant, and incapable of serious application; and in this abode of pleasure and luxurious ease vices have reigned at which humanity must shudder. The jealousy of the women was often terrible in its consequences. One lady, who had a beautiful negro girl continually about her person, thought she saw some symptoms of tendresse in the eyes of her husband, and all the furies of jealousy seized her soul.

She ordered one of her slaves to cut off the head of the unfortunate victim, which was instantly done. At dinner her husband said he felt no disposition to eat, to which his wife, with the air of a demon, replied, perhaps I can give you something that will excite your appetite; it has at least had that effect before. She rose and drew from a closet the head of Coomba. The husband, shocked beyond expression, left the house and sailed immediately for France, in order never again to behold such a monster.

Many similar anecdotes have been related by my Creole friends; but one of them, after having excited my warmest sympathy, made me laugh heartily in the midst of my tears. She told me that her husband was stabbed in her arms by a slave whom he had always treated as his brother; that she had seen her children killed, and her house burned, but had been herself preserved by a faithful slave, and conducted, after incredible sufferings, and through innumerable dangers to the Cape. The same slave, she added, and the idea seemed to console her for every other loss, saved all my madrass handkerchiefs.

The Creole ladies have an air of voluptuous languor which renders them extremely interesting. Their eyes, their teeth, and their hair are remarkably beautiful, and they have acquired from the habit of commanding their slaves, an air of dignity which adds to their charms. Almost too indolent to pronounce their words they speak with a drawling accent that is very agreeable: but since they have been roused by the pressure of misfortune many of them have displayed talents and found resources in the energy of their own minds which it would have been supposed impossible for them to possess.

They have naturally a taste for music; dance with a lightness, a grace, an elegance peculiar to themselves, and those who, having been educated in France, unite the French vivacity to the Creole sweetness, are the most irresistible creatures that the imagination can conceive. In the ordinary intercourse of life they are delightful; but if I wanted a friend on any extraordinary occasion I would not venture to rely on their stability.

LETTER III.

Cape Francois.

The so much desired general Rochambeau is at length here. His arrival was announced, not by the ringing of bells, for they have none, but by the firing of cannon. Every body, except myself went to see him land, and I was prevented, not by want of curiosity, but by indisposition. Nothing is heard of but the public joy. He is considered as the guardian, as the saviour of the people. Every proprietor feels himself already on his habitation and I have even heard some of them disputing about the quality of the coffee they expect soon to gather; perhaps these sanguine Creoles may find that they have reckoned without their host.

However, en attendant, the General, who it seems bears pleasure as well as conquest in his train, gives a grand ball on Thursday next. We are invited, and we go.

Clara is delighted! for the first time since our arrival her eyes brightened at receiving the invitation, and the important subject of what colours are to be worn, what fashions adopted, is continually discussed. Her husband, whose chief pleasure is to see her brilliant, indulges all the extravagance of her capricious taste. She sighs for conquest because she is a stranger to content, and will enter into every scheme of dissipation with eagerness to forget for a moment her internal wretchedness. She is unhappy, though surrounded by splendor, because from the constitution of her mind she cannot derive happiness from an object that does not interest her heart.

My letter shall not be closed till after the ball of which I suppose you will be glad to have a description.

But why do you not write to me?

I am ignorant of your pursuits and even of the place of your abode, and though convinced that you cannot forget me, I am afflicted if I do not receive assurances of your friendship by every vessel that arrives!

Clara has not written, for nothing has hitherto had power to rouse her from the lethargy into which she had sunk. Perhaps the scenes of gaiety in which she is now going to engage may dispell the gloom which threatened to destroy all the energy of her charming mind. Perhaps too these scenes may be more fatal to her peace than the gloom of which I complain, for in this miserable world we know not what to desire. The accomplishment of our wishes is often a real misfortune. We pass our lives in searching after happiness, and how many die without having found it!

In Continuation.

Well my dear friend the ball is over—that ball of which I promised you a description. But who can describe the heat or suffocating sensations felt in a crowd?

The General has an agreeable face, a sweet mouth, and most enchanting smile; but

and paid no particular attention to any object. His uniform was a la hussar, and very brilliant; he wore red boots:—but his person is bad, he is too short; a Bacchus-like figure, which accords neither with my idea of a great General nor a great man.

But you know one of my faults is to create objects in my imagination on the model of my incomparable friend, and then to dislike every thing I meet because it falls short of my expectations.

I was disappointed at the ball, because I was confounded in the crowd, but my disappointment was trifling compared with that felt by Clara. Accustomed to admiration she expected to receive it on this occasion in no moderate portion, and to find herself undistinguished was not flattering. She did not dance, staid only an hour, and has declared against all balls in future. But there is one announced by the Admiral which may perhaps induce her to change her resolution.

Madame Le Clerc has sailed for France with the body of her husband, which was embalmed here.

The place is tranquil. The arrival of General Rochambeau seems to have spread terror among the negroes. I wish they were reduced to order that I might see the so much vaunted habitations where I should repose beneath the shade of orange groves; walk on carpets of rose leaves and frenchipone; be fanned to sleep by silent slaves, or have my feet tickled into extacy by the soft hand of a female attendant.

Such were the pleasures of the Creole ladies whose time was divided between the bath, the table, the toilette and the lover.

What a delightful existence! thus to pass away life in the arms of voluptuous indolence; to wander over flowery fields of unfading verdure, or through forests of majestic palm-trees, sit by a fountain bursting from a savage rock frequented only by the cooing dove, and indulge in these enchanting solitudes all the reveries of an exalted imagination.

But the moment of enjoying these pleasures is, I fear, far distant. The negroes have felt during ten years the blessing of liberty, for a blessing it certainly is, however acquired, and they will not be easily deprived of it. They have fought and vanquished the French troops, and their strength has increased from a knowledge of the weakness of their opposers, and the climate itself combats for them. Inured to a savage life they lay in the woods without being injured by the sun, the dew or the rain. A negro eats a plantain, a sour orange, the herbs and roots of the field, and requires no cloathing, whilst this mode of living is fatal to the European soldiers. The sun and the dew are equally fatal to them, and they have perished in such numbers that, if reinforcements do not arrive, it will soon be impossible to defend the town.

The country is entirely in the hands of the negroes, and whilst their camp abounds in provisions, every thing in town is extremely scarce and enormously dear.

Every evening several old Creoles, who live near us, assemble at our house, and talk of their affairs. One of them, whose annual income before the revolution was fifty thousand dollars, which he always exceeded in his expenses, now lives in a miserable hut and prolongs with the greatest difficulty his wretched existence. Yet he still hopes for better days, in which hope they all join him. The distress they feel has not deprived them of their gaiety. They laugh, they sing, they join in the dance with the young girls of the neighbourhood, and seem to forget their cares in the prospect of having them speedily removed.

LETTER IV.

Cape Francois.

The ball announced by the admiral exceeded all expectations and we are still all extacy. Boats, covered with carpets, conveyed the company from the shore to the vessel, which was anchored about half a mile from the land, and on entering the ball room a fairy palace presented itself to the view. The decks were floored in; a roof of canvas was suspended over the whole length of the vessel, which reached the floor on each side, and formed a beautiful apartment. Innumerable lustres of chrystal and wreaths of natural flowers ornamented the ceiling; and rose and orange-trees, in full blossom, ranged round the room, filled the air with fragrance. The seats were elevated, and separated from the part appropriated to dancing, by a light balustrade. A gallery for the musicians was placed round the main-mast, and the whole presented to the eye an elegant saloon, raised by magic in a wilderness of sweets. Clara and myself, accompanied by her husband and Major B——, were among the first who arrived. Never had I beheld her so interesting. A robe of white crape shewed to advantage the contours of her elegant person. Her arms and bosom were bare; her black hair, fastened on the top with a brilliant comb, was ornamented by a rose which seemed to have been thrown there by accident.

We were presented to the admiral, who appeared struck by the figure of Clara, and was saying some very flattering things, when a flourish of martial music announced the arrival of the General in chief. The admiral hastened to meet him, and they walked round the room together.

When the dances began the general leaned against the orchestra opposite Clara. Her eyes met his. She bent them to the ground, raised them timidly and found those of the general fixed on her: a glow of crimson suffused itself over her face and bosom. I observed her attentively and knew it was the flush of triumph! She declined dancing, but when the walses began she was led out. Those who have not seen Clara walse know not half her charms. There is a physiognomy in her form! every motion is full of soul. The gracefulness of her arms is unequalled, and she is lighter than gossamer.

The eyes of the general dwelt on her alone, and I heard him inquire of several who she was.

The walse finished, she walked round the room leaning on the arm of Major B——. The general followed, and meeting her husband, asked (pointing to Clara) if he knew the name of that lady. Madame St. Louis, was the reply. I thought she was an American said the general. So she is, replied St. Louis, but her husband is a Frenchman. That's true, added the general, but they say he is a d——d jealous fool, is he here? He has the honour of answering you, said St. Louis. The general was embarrassed for a moment, but recovering himself said, I am not surprised at your being jealous, for she is a charming creature. And he continued uttering so many flattering things that St. Louis was in the best humour imaginable. When Clara heard the story, she laughed, and, I saw, was delighted with a conquest she now considered assured.

When she sat down, Major B—— presented the General to her, and his pointed attention rendered her the object of universal admiration. He retired at midnight: the ball continued. An elegant collation was served up, and at sunrise we returned home!

The admiral is a very agreeable man, and I would prefer him, as a lover, to any of his officers, though he is sixty years old. His manners are affable and perfectly elegant; his figure graceful and dignified, and his conversation sprightly. He joined the dance at the request of a lady, with all the spirit of youth, and appeared to enjoy the pleasure which his charming fête diffused.

He told Clara that he would twine a wreath of myrtle to crown her, for she had vanquished the General. She replied, that she would mingle it with laurel, and lay it at his feet for having, by preserving the Cape, given her an opportunity of making the conquest.

Nothing is heard of but balls and parties. Monsieur D'Or gives a concert every Thursday; the General in chief every Sunday: so that from having had no amusement we are in danger of falling into the other extreme, and of being satiated with pleasure.

The Negroes remain pretty tranquil in this quarter; but at Port-au-Prince, and in its neighbourhood, they have been very troublesome.

Jeremie, Les Cayes, and all that part of the island which had been preserved, during the revolution, by the exertions of the inhabitants, have been lost since the appearance of the French troops!

The Creoles complain, and they have cause; for they find in the army sent to defend them, oppressors who appear to seek their destruction. Their houses and their negroes are put under requisition, and they are daily exposed to new vexations.

Some of the ancient inhabitants of the island, who had emigrated, begin to think that their hopes were too sanguine, and that they have returned too soon from the peaceful retreats they found on the continent. They had supposed that the appearance of an army of thirty thousand men would have reduced the negroes to order; but these conquerors of Italy, unnerved by the climate, or from some other cause, lose all their energy, and fly before the undisciplined slaves.

Many of the Creoles, who had remained on the island during the reign of Toussaint, regret the change, and say that they were less vexed by the negroes than by those who have come to protect them.

And these negroes, notwithstanding the state of brutal subjection in which they were kept, have at length acquired a knowledge of their own strength. More than five hundred thousand broke the yoke imposed on them by a few thousand men of a different colour, and claimed the rights of which they had been so cruelly deprived. Unfortunate were those who witnessed the horrible catastrophe which accompanied the first wild transports of freedom! Dearly have they paid for the luxurious ease in which they revelled at the expense of these oppressed creatures. Yet even among these slaves, self-emancipated, and rendered furious by a desire of vengeance, examples of fidelity and attachment to their masters have been found, which do honour to human nature.

For my part, I am all anxiety to return to the continent. Accustomed from my earliest infancy to wander on the delightful banks of the Schuylkill, to meet the keen air on Kensington bridge, and to ramble over the fields which surround Philadelphia, I feel like a prisoner in this little place, built on a narrow strip of land between the sea and a mountain that rises perpendicularly behind the town. There is to be sure an opening on one side to the plain, but the negroes are there encamped; they keep the ground of which general Le Clerc suffered them to take possession, and threaten daily to attack the town!

There is no scarcity of beaux here, but the gallantry of the French officers is fatiguing from its sameness. They think their appearance alone sufficient to secure a conquest, and do not conceive it necessary to give their yielding mistresses a decent excuse by paying them a little attention. In three days a love-affair is begun and finished and forgotten; the first is for the declaration, the second is the day of triumph if it is deferred so long, and the third is for the adieu.

The Creoles do not relish the attacks made on their wives by the officers. The husband of Clara in particular is as jealous as a Turk, and has more than once shewn his displeasure at the pointed attentions of the General-in-chief to his wife, which she encourages, out of contradiction to her husband rather than from any pleasure they afford her. The boisterous gaiety and soldier-like manners of general Rochambeau, can have made no impression on a heart tender and delicate as is that of Clara. But there is a vein of coquetry in her composition which, if indulged, will eventually destroy her peace.

A tragical event happened lately at Port-au-Prince. At a public breakfast, given by the commandant, an officer just arrived from France, addressing himself to a lady, called her citoyenne.—The lady observed that she would never answer to that title. The stranger replied that she ought to be proud of being so called. On which her husband, interfering, said that his wife should never answer to any mode of address that she found displeasing. No more passed at that time, but before noon Monsieur C—— received a challenge: the choice of weapons being left to him, he said that it was absolutely indifferent: the stranger insisted on fighting with a rifle; Monsieur C—— replied that he should have no objection to fight with a cannon: it was however, finally settled, that the affair should be decided with pistols; and at sun-rise next morning they met: the officer fired without effect. Monsieur C——, with surer aim laid his antagonist lifeless on the ground.

On what trifles depends the destiny of man! but the Europeans are so insolent that a few such lessons are absolutely necessary to correct them.

Monsieur C—— is a Creole, and belonged to the Staff of the general who commands at Port-au-Prince, from which he has been dismissed in consequence of this affair, which is another proof of the hatred the French officers bear the inhabitants of this country.

We have here a General of division, who is enriching himself by all possible means, and with such unblushing rapacity, that he is universally detested. He was a blacksmith before the revolution, and his present pursuits bear some affinity to his original employment, having taken possession of a plantation on which he makes charcoal, and which he sells to the amount of a hundred dollars a day. A carricature has appeared in which he is represented tying up sacks of coal. Madame A——, his mistress, standing near him, holds up his embroidered coat and says, "Don't soil yourself, General."

LETTER V.