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diff --git a/24120.txt b/24120.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c623d7c --- /dev/null +++ b/24120.txt @@ -0,0 +1,19418 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hour and the Man, by Harriet Martineau + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Hour and the Man + An Historical Romance + +Author: Harriet Martineau + +Release Date: January 31, 2008 [EBook #24120] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUR AND THE MAN *** + + + + +Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England + + + + +The Hour and the Man, by Harriet Martineau. + +________________________________________________________________________ +The following is taken with acknowledgements from Chambers Dictionary of +Biography, about the subject of this book. + +Pierre Dominique Toussaint l'Ouverture (1746-1803). Haitian black +revolutionary leader (the surname derives from his bravery in once +making a breach in the ranks of the enemy). Born of African slave +parents in Haiti, he was freed in 1777. In 1791 he joined the black +insurgents, and in 1797 was made commander-in-chief in the island by the +French Convention. He drove out British and Spaniards, restored order +and prosperity, and about 1800 began to aim at independence. Napoleon +proclaimed the re-establishment of slavery, but Toussaint declined to +obey. He was eventually overpowered and taken prisoner, and died in a +prison in France. + +Harriet Martineau wrote this book in 1839, during which year she also +wrote "Deerbrook", and published an analysis of her tour of America, +from which she had returned in 1836. + +________________________________________________________________________ +THE HOUR AND THE MAN, BY HARRIET MARTINEAU. + + + +CHAPTER ONE. + +WAITING SUPPER. + +The nights of August are in Saint Domingo the hottest of the year. The +winds then cease to befriend the panting inhabitants; and while the +thermometer stands at 90 degrees, there is no steady breeze, as during +the preceding months of summer. Light puffs of wind now and then fan +the brow of the negro, and relieve for an instant the oppression of the +European settler; but they are gone as soon as come, and seem only to +have left the heat more intolerable than before. + +Of these sultry evenings, one of the sultriest was the 22nd of August, +1791. This was one of five days appointed for rejoicings in the town of +Cap Francais--festivities among the French and Creole inhabitants, who +were as ready to rejoice on appointed occasions as the dulness of +colonial life renders natural, but who would have been yet more lively +than they were if the date of their festival had been in January or May. +There was no choice as to the date, however. They were governed in +regard to their celebrations by what happened at Paris; and never had +the proceedings of the mother-country been so important to the colony as +now. + +During the preceding year, the white proprietors of Saint Domingo, who +had hailed with loud voices the revolutionary doctrines before which +royalty had begun to succumb in France, were astonished to find their +cries of Liberty and Equality adopted by some who had no business with +such ideas and words. The mulatto proprietors and merchants of the +island innocently understood the words according to their commonly +received meaning, and expected an equal share with the whites in the +representation of the colony, in the distribution of its offices, and in +the civil rights of its inhabitants generally. These rights having been +denied by the whites to the freeborn mulattoes, with every possible +manifestation of contempt and dislike, an effort had been made to wring +from the whites by force what they would not grant to reason; and an +ill-principled and ill-managed revolt had taken place, in the preceding +October, headed by Vincent Oge and his brother, sons of the proprietress +of a coffee plantation, a few miles from Cap Francais. These young men +were executed, under circumstances of great barbarity. Their sufferings +were as seed sown in the warm bosoms of their companions and adherents, +to spring up, in due season, in a harvest of vigorous revenge. The +whites suspected this; and were as anxious as their dusky neighbours to +obtain the friendship and sanction of the revolutionary government at +home. That government was fluctuating in its principles and in its +counsels; it favoured now one party, and now the other; and on the +arrival of its messengers at the ports of the colony, there ensued +sometimes the loud boastings of the whites, and sometimes quiet, knowing +smiles and whispered congratulations among the depressed section of the +inhabitants. + +The cruelties inflicted on Vincent Oge had interested many influential +persons in Paris in the cause of the mulattoes. Great zeal was +exorcised in attempting to put them in a condition to protect themselves +by equal laws, and thus to restrain the tyranny of the whites. The Abbe +Gregoire pleaded for them in the National Assembly; and on the 10th of +March was passed the celebrated decree which gave the mulattoes the +privileges of French citizens, even to the enjoyment of the suffrage, +and to the possession of seats in the parochial and colonial assemblies. +To Europeans there appears nothing extraordinary in the admission to +these civil functions of freeborn persons, many of whom were wealthy, +and many educated; but to the whites of Saint Domingo the decree was +only less tremendous than the rush of the hurricane. + +It arrived at Cap Francais on the 30th of June, and the tidings +presently spread. At first, no one believed them but the mulattoes. +When it was no longer possible to doubt--when the words of Robespierre +passed from mouth to mouth, till even the nuns told them to one another +in the convent garden--"Perish the colonies, rather than sacrifice one +iota of our principles!" the whites trampled the national cockade under +their feet in the streets, countermanded their orders for the fete of +the 14th of July (as they now declined taking the civic oath), and +proposed to one another to offer their colony and their allegiance to +England. + +They found means, however, to gratify their love of power, and their +class-hatred, by means short of treason. They tried disobedience first, +as the milder method. The governor of the colony, Blanchelande, +promised that when the decree should reach him officially, he would +neglect it, and all applications from any quarter to have it enforced. +This set all straight. Blanchelande was pronounced a sensible and +patriotic man. The gentlemen shook hands warmly with him at every turn; +the ladies made deep and significant curtseys wherever they met him; the +boys taught their little negroes to huzza at the name of Blanchelande; +and the little girls called him a dear creature. In order to lose no +time in showing that they meant to make laws for their own colony out of +their own heads, and no others, the white gentry hastened on the +election of deputies for a new General Colonial Assembly. The deputies +were elected, and met, to the number of a hundred and seventy-six, at +Leogane, in the southern region of the island, so early as the 9th of +August. After exchanging greetings and vows of fidelity to their +class-interests, under the name of patriotism, they adjourned their +assembly to the 25th, when they were to meet at Cap Francais. It was +desirable to hold their very important session in the most important +place in the colony, the centre of intelligence, the focus of news from +Europe, and the spot where they had first sympathised with the +ungrateful government at home, by hoisting, with their own white hands, +the cap of liberty, and shouting, so that the world might hear, "Liberty +and Equality!" "Down with Tyranny!" + +By the 20th, the deputies were congregated at Cap Francais; and daily +till the great 25th were they seen to confer together in coteries in the +shady piazzas, or in the Jesuits' Walk, in the morning, and to dine +together in parties in the afternoon, admitting friends and well-wishers +to these tavern dinners. Each day till the 25th was to be a fete-day in +the town and neighbourhood; and of these days the hot 22nd was one. + +Among these friends and well-wishers were the whites upon all the +plantations in the neighbourhood of the town. There was scarcely an +estate in the Plaine du Nord, or on the mountain steeps which overlooked +the cape, town, and bay, on all sides but the north, which did not +furnish guests to these dinners. The proprietors, their bailiffs, the +clergy, the magistrates, might all be seen along the roads, in the cool +of the morning; and there was a holiday air about the estates they left +behind. The negroes were left for this week to do their work pretty +much as they liked, or to do none at all. There was little time to +think of them, and of ordinary business, when there were the mulattoes +to be ostentatiously insulted, and the mother-country to be defied. So +the negroes slept at noon, and danced at night, during these few August +days, and even had leave to visit one another to as great an extent as +was ever allowed. Perhaps they also transacted other affairs of which +their masters had little suspicion. + +All that ever was allowed was permitted to the slaves on the Breda +estate, in the plain, a few miles from Cap Francais. The attorney, or +bailiff of the estate, Monsieur Bayou de Libertas, was a kind-hearted +man, who, while insisting very peremptorily on his political and social +rights, and vehemently denouncing all abstract enmity to them, liked +that people actually about him should have their own way. While +ransacking his brain for terms of abuse to vent on Lafayette and +Condorcet, he rarely found anything harsh to utter when Caton got drunk, +and spoiled his dinner; when Venus sent up his linen darker than it went +down to the quarter, or when little Machabee picked his pocket of small +coin. Such a man was, of course, particularly busy this week; and of +course, the slaves under his charge were particularly idle, and +particularly likely to have friends from other plantations to visit +them. + +Some such visitor seemed to be expected by a family of these Breda +negroes, on the Monday evening, the 22nd. This family did not live in +the slave-quarter. They had a cottage near the stables, as Toussaint +Breda had been Monsieur Bayou's postillion, and, when he was lately +promoted to be overseer, it was found convenient to all parties that he +should retain his dwelling, which had been enlarged and adorned so as to +accord with the dignity of his new office. In the piazza of his +dwelling sat Toussaint this evening, evidently waiting for some one to +arrive; for he frequently put down his book to listen for footsteps, and +more than once walked round the house to look abroad. His wife, who was +within, cooking supper, and his daughter and little boy, who were beside +him in the piazza, observed his restlessness; for Toussaint was a great +reader, and seldom looked off the page for a moment of any spare hour +that he might have for reading either the books Monsieur Bayou lent him, +or the three or four volumes which he had been permitted to purchase for +himself. + +"Do you see Jean?" asked the wife from within. "Shall we wait supper +for him?" + +"Wait a little longer," said Toussaint. "It will be strange if he does +not come." + +"Are any more of Latour's people coming with Jean, mother?" asked +Genifrede, from the piazza. + +"No; they have a supper at Latour's to-night; and we should not have +thought of inviting Jean, but that he wants some conversation with your +father." + +"Lift me up," cried the little boy, who was trying in vain to scramble +up one of the posts of the piazza, in order to reach a humming-bird's +nest, which hung in the tendrils of a creeper overhead, and which a +light puff of wind now set swinging, so as to attract the child's eye. +What child ever saw a humming-bird thus rocking--its bill sticking out +like a long needle on one side, and its tail at the other, without +longing to clutch it? So Denis cried out imperiously to be lifted up. +His father set him on the shelf within the piazza, where the calabashes +were kept--a station whence he could see into the nest, and watch the +bird, without being able to touch it. This was not altogether +satisfactory. The little fellow looked about him for a calabash to +throw at the nest; but his mother had carried in all her cups for the +service of the supper-table. As no more wind came at his call, he could +only blow with all his might, to swing the tendril again; and he was +amusing himself thus when his father laid down his book, and stepped out +to see once more whether Jean was approaching. + +"Lift me down," said the boy to his sister, when his head was giddy with +blowing. Genifrede would fain have let him stay where he was, out of +the way of mischief; but she saw that he was really afraid of falling, +and she offered her shoulders for him to descend upon. When down, she +would not let him touch her work; she took her scissors from his busy +hands, and shook him off when he tried to pull the snowberries out of +her hair; so that there was nothing left for the child to play with but +his father's book. He was turning it over, when Toussaint re-appeared. + +"Ha! boy, a book in your hands already? I hope you may have as much +comfort out of that book as I have had, Denis." + +"What is it? what is it about?" said the boy, who had heard many a story +out of books from his father. + +"What is it? Let us see. I think you know letters enough to spell it +out for yourself. Come and try." + +The child knew the letter E, and, with a good deal of help, made out, at +last, Epictetus. + +"What is that?" asked the boy. + +"Epictetus was a negro," said Genifrede, complacently. + +"Not a negro," said her father, smiling. "He was a slave; but he was a +white." + +"Is that the reason you read that book so much more than any other?" + +"Partly; but partly because I like what is in it." + +"What is in it--any stories?" asked Denis. + +"It is all about bearing and forbearing. It has taught me many things +which you will have to learn by-and-by. I shall teach you some of them +out of this book." + +Denis made all haste away from the promised instruction, and his father +was presently again absorbed in his book. From respect to him, +Genifrede kept Denis quiet by signs of admonition; and for some little +time nothing was heard but the sounds that in the plains of Saint +Domingo never cease--the humming and buzzing of myriads of insects, the +occasional chattering of monkeys in a neighbouring wood, and, with a +passing gust, a chorus of frogs from a distant swamp. Unconscious of +this din, from being accustomed always to hear more or less of it, the +boy amused himself with chasing the fireflies, whose light began to +glance around as darkness descended. His sister was poring over her +work, which she was just finishing, when a gleam of greenish light made +both look up. It came from a large meteor which sailed past towards the +mountains, whither were tending also the huge masses of cloud which +gather about the high peaks previous to the season of rain and +hurricanes. There was nothing surprising in this meteor, for the sky +was full of them in August nights; but it was very beautiful. The globe +of green light floated on till it burst above the mountains, +illuminating the lower clouds, and revealing along the slopes of the +uplands the coffee-groves, waving and bowing their heads in the +wandering winds of that high region. Genifrede shivered at the sight, +and her brother threw himself upon her lap. Before he had asked half +his questions about the lights of the sky, the short twilight was gone, +and the evening star cast a faint shadow from the tufted posts of the +piazza upon the white wall of the cottage. In a low tone, full of awe, +Genifrede told the boy such stories as she had heard from her father of +the mysteries of the heavens. He felt that she trembled as she told of +the northern lights, which had been actually seen by some travelled +persons now in Cap Francais. It took some time and argument to give him +an idea of cold countries; but his uncle Paul, the fisherman, had seen +hail on the coast, only thirty miles from hence; and this was a great +step in the evidence. Denis listened with all due belief to his +sister's description of those pale lights shooting up over the sky, till +he cried out vehemently, "There they are! look!" + +Genifrede screamed, and covered her face with her hands; while the boy +shouted to his father, and ran to call his mother to see the lights. + +What they saw, however, was little like the pale, cold rays of the +aurora borealis. It was a fiery red, which, shining to some height in +the air, was covered in by a canopy of smoke. + +"Look up, Genifrede," said her father, laying his hand upon her head. +"It is a fire--a cane-field on fire." + +"And houses, too--the sugar-house, no doubt," said Margot, who had come +out to look. "It burns too red to be canes only. Can it be at +Latour's? That would keep Jean from coming.--It was the best supper I +ever got ready for him." + +"Latour's is over that way," said Toussaint, pointing some distance +further to the south-east. "But see! there is fire there, too! God +have mercy!" + +He was silent, in mournful fear that he knew now too well the reason why +Jean had not come, and the nature of the conversation Jean had desired +to have with him. As he stood with folded arms looking from the one +conflagration to the other, Genifrede clung to him trembling with +terror. In a quarter of an hour another blaze appeared on the horizon; +and soon after, a fourth. + +"The sky is on fire," cried Denis, in more delight than fear. "Look at +the clouds!" And the clouds did indeed show, throughout their huge +pile, some a mild flame colour, and others a hard crimson edge, as +during a stormy sunset. + +"Alas! alas! this is rebellion," said Toussaint; "rebellion against God +and man. God have mercy! The whites have risen against their king; and +now the blacks rise against them, in turn. It is a great sin. God have +mercy!" + +Margot wept bitterly. "Oh, what shall we do?" she cried, "What will +become of us, if there is a rebellion?" + +"Be cheerful, and fear nothing," replied her husband. "I have not +rebelled, and I shall not. Monsieur Bayou has taught me to bear and +forbear--yes, my boy, as this book says, and as the book of God says: We +will be faithful, and fear nothing." + +"But they may burn this plantation," cried Margot. "They may come here, +and take you away. They may ruin Monsieur Bayou, and then we may be +sold away; we may be parted--" + +Her grief choked her words. + +"Fear nothing," said her husband, with calm authority. "We are in God's +hand; and it is a sin to fear His will. But see! there is another fire, +over towards the town." + +And he called aloud the name of his eldest son, saying he should send +the boy with a horse to meet his master. He himself must remain to +watch at home. + +Placide did not come when called, nor was he at the stables. He was +gone some way off, to cut fresh grass for the cattle--a common +night-labour on the plantation. + +"Call Isaac, then," said Toussaint. + +"Run, Genifrede," said her mother. "Isaac and Aimee are in the wood. +Run, Genifrede." + +Genifrede did not obey. She was too much terrified to leave the piazza +alone; though her father gently asked when she, his eldest daughter, and +almost a woman, would leave off being scared on all occasions like a +child. Margot went herself; so far infected with her daughter's fears +as to be glad to take little Denis in her hand. She was not long gone. +As soon as she entered the wood she heard the sound of her children's +laughter above the noise the monkeys made; and she was guided by it to +the well. There, in the midst of the opening which let in the +starlight, stood the well, surrounded by the only grass on the Breda +estate that was always fresh and green; and there were Isaac and his +inseparable companion, Aimee, making the grass greener by splashing each +other with more than half the water they drew. Their bright eyes and +teeth could be seen by the mild light, as they were too busy with their +sport to heed their mother as she approached. She soon made them +serious with her news. Isaac flew to help his father with the horses, +while Aimee, a stout girl of twelve, assisted her mother in earnest to +draw water, and carry it home. + +They found Genifrede crouching alone in a corner of the piazza. In +another minute Toussaint appeared on horseback, leading a saddled horse. + +"I am going for Monsieur Bayou myself," said he; adding, as he glanced +round the lurid horizon, "it is not a night for boys to be abroad. I +shall be back in an hour. If Monsieur Bayou comes by the new road, tell +him that I am gone by Madame Oge's. If fire breaks out here, go into +the wood. If I meet Placide, I will send him home." + +He disappeared under the limes in the avenue; and his family heard the +pace of the horses quicken into a gallop before the sound died away upon +the road. + + + +CHAPTER TWO. + +THE EXCLUSIVES. + +The party of deputies with whom Monsieur Bayou was dining were assembled +at the great hotel, at the corner of Place Mont Archer, at Cap Francais. +Languidly, though gladly, did the guests, especially those from the +country, enter the hotel, overpowering as was the heat of the roads and +the streets. In the roads, the sand lay so deep, that the progress of +horsemen was necessarily slow, while the sun seemed to shed down a +deluge of flame. In the streets, there was the shelter of the piazzas; +but their pillars, if accidentally touched, seemed to burn the hand; and +the hum of traffic, and the sound of feet, appeared to increase the +oppression caused by the weather. Within the hotel, all was +comparatively cool and quiet. The dining and drawing-rooms occupied by +the guests adjoined each other, and presented none but the most welcome +images. The jalousies were nearly closed; and through the small spaces +that were left open, there might be seen in one direction the fountain +playing in the middle of the Place, and in the other, diagonally across +the Rue Espagnole, the Jesuits' Walk, an oblong square laid down in +grass, and shaded in the midst by an avenue of palms. Immediately +opposite the hotel was the Convent of Religieuses, over whose garden +wall more trees were seen; so that the guests _might_ easily have +forgotten that they were in the midst of a town. + +The rooms were so dark that those who entered from the glare of the +streets could at first see nothing. The floor was dark, being of native +mahogany, polished like a looking-glass. The walls were green, the +furniture green--everything ordered in counter-action of light and heat. +In the dining-room more was visible; there was the white cloth spread +over the long range of tables, and the plate and glass, glittering in +such light as was allowed to enter; and also the gilded balustrade of +the gallery, to be used to-day as an orchestra. This gallery was +canopied over, as was the seat of the chairman, with palm branches and +evergreens, intermixed with fragrant shrubs, and flowers of all hues. A +huge bunch of peacocks' feathers was suspended from the lofty ceiling, +and it was waved incessantly to and fro, by strings pulled by two little +negroes, at opposite corners of the room, causing a continual fanning of +the air, and circulation of the perfumes of the flowers. The black band +in the orchestra summoned the company to dinner, and entertained them +while at it by playing the popular revolutionary airs which were then +resounding through the colony like the hum of its insects, or the dash +of its waterfalls. As they took their seats to the air of the +"Marseillaise Hymn," more than one of the guests might be heard by his +next neighbour singing to himself: + + "Allons, enfans de la patrie, + Le jour de gloire est arrive." + +Before politics, however, there was dinner to be attended to; and the +first-fruits of the eloquence of the meeting was bestowed on the +delicate turtle, the well-fattened land-crabs, and the rich pasties--on +the cold wines, the refreshing jellies, and the piles of oranges, figs, +and almonds, pomegranates, melons, and pine-apples. The first vote of +compliment was to Henri, the black cook from Saint Christophe, whence he +had been brought over by the discerning hotel-keeper, who detected his +culinary genius while Henri was yet but a lad. When the table was +cleared, a request was sent up to the chairman from various parties at +the table, that he would command Henri's attendance, to receive the +testimony of the company respecting the dinner he had sent up, and to +take a glass of wine from them. + +Dr Proteau, the chairman, smilingly agreed, saying that such a tribute +was no more than Henri's professional excellence and high reputation +deserved; and Henri was accordingly summoned by a dozen of the grinning +black waiters, who ran over one another in their haste to carry to the +kitchen the message of these, the highest gentry of the land. The +waiters presently poured into the room again, and stood in two rows from +the door, where Henri appeared, not laughing like the rest, but +perfectly grave, as he stood, white apron on, and napkin over his arm, +his stout and tall figure erect, to receive the commands of his masters. + +"Was your father a cook or a gourmand, Henri? Or are you all good cooks +at Saint Christophe?" asked a deputy. + +"If it is the air of Saint Christophe that makes men such cooks as +Henri, the knights of Saint John of Malta had a goodly gift in it," said +another. + +"Can one get such another as you for money, Henri?" asked a third. + +"How many boys has your wife brought you, Henri? We shall bid high for +them, and make your master's fortune, if he trains them all to your +profession," said a fourth. + +"Tell your master he had better not part with you for any sum, Henri. +We will make it worth his while to refuse more for you than was ever +offered yet." + +"Your health, Henri! May you live out all the turtle now in Saint +Domingo, and the next generation after them." + +Amidst all these questions and remarks, Henri escaped answering any. He +stood looking on the ground, till a glass of champagne was brought to +him, bowed to the company, drank it off, and was gone. + +"How demure the fellow looks!" said Monsieur Papalier, a planter, to +Bayou, his neighbour in the plain, who now sat opposite to him; "what an +air of infinite modesty he put on! At this moment, I daresay he is +snapping his fingers, and telling the women that all the money in Saint +Domingo won't buy him." + +"You are mistaken there," said Bayou. "He is a singular fellow, is +Henri, in more ways than his cookery. I believe he never snapped his +fingers in his life, nor told anybody what his master gave for him. I +happen to know Henri very well, from his being an acquaintance of my +overseer, who is something of the same sort, only superior even to +Henri." + +"The fellow looked as if he would have given a great deal more than his +glass of wine to have stayed out of the room," observed Monsieur Leroy. +"He has nothing of the mulatto in him, has he? Pure African, I +suppose." + +"Pure African--all safe," replied Bayou. "But observe! the music has +stopped, and we are going on to the business of the day. Silence, +there! Silence, all!" + +Everybody said "Silence!" and Dr Proteau rose. + +He declared himself to be in a most remarkable situation--one in which +he was sure every Frenchman present would sympathise with him. Here he +stood, chairman of a meeting of the most loyal, the most spirited, the +most patriotic citizens of the empire, chairman of an assemblage of +members of a colonial parliament, and of their guests and friends--here +he stood, in this capacity, and yet he was unable to propose any one of +the loyal toasts by which it had, till now, been customary to sanction +their social festivities. As for the toast, now never more to be heard +from their lips--the health of the king and royal family--the less that +was said about that the better. The times of oppression were passing +away; and he, for one, would not dim the brightness of the present +meeting by recalling from the horizon, where it was just disappearing, +the tempest cloud of tyranny, to overshadow the young sunshine of +freedom. There had been, however, another toast, to which they had been +wont to respond with more enthusiasm than was ever won by despotic +monarchy from its slaves. There had been a toast to which this lofty +roof had rung again, and to hail which every voice had been loud, and +every heart had beat high. Neither could he now propose that toast. +With grief which consumed his soul, he was compelled to bury in +silence--the silence of mortification, the silence of contempt, the +silence of detestation--the name of the National Assembly of France. +His language might appear strong; but it was mild, it was moderate; it +was, he might almost say, cringing, in comparison with what the National +Assembly had deserved. He need not occupy the time of his friends, nor +harrow their feelings, by a narrative of the injuries their colony had +sustained at the hands of the French National Assembly. Those around +him knew too well, that in return for their sympathy in the humbling of +a despot, for their zeal in behalf of the eternal principles of freedom, +the mother-country had, through the instrumentality of its National +Council, endeavoured to strip its faithful whites in this colony of the +power which they had always possessed, and which was essential to their +very existence in their ancient prosperity--the exclusive power of +making or enforcing laws for their own community. The attempt was now +made, as they too well knew, to wrest this sacred privilege from their +hands, by admitting to share it a degraded race, before whose inroads +would perish all that was most dear to his fellow-citizens and to +himself--the repose of their homes, the security of their property, the +honour of their colour, and the prosperity of the colony. He rejoiced +to see around him, and from his heart he bade them welcome, some +fellow-labourers with himself in the glorious work of resisting +oppression, and defending their ancient privileges, endeared to them by +as many ages as had passed since distinctions of colour were made by an +Almighty hand. He invited them to pledge themselves with him to +denounce and resist such profane, such blasphemous innovations, proposed +by shallow enthusiasts, seconded by designing knaves, and destined to be +wrought out by the agency of demons--demons in human form. He called +upon all patriots to join him in his pledge; and in token of their +faith, to drink deep to one now more deserving of their homage than was +ever king or National Assembly--he need not say that he alluded to the +noblest patriot in the colony--its guardian, its saviour--Governor +Blanchelande. + +The gentleman who rose, amidst the cheers and jingling of glasses, to +say a few words to this toast, was a man of some importance in the +colony as a member of its Assembly, though he otherwise held no higher +rank than that of attorney to the estate of Monsieur Gallifet, a rich +absentee. Odeluc was an old resident, and (though zealous for the +privileges of the whites) a favourite with men of all colours, and +therefore entitled to be listened to by all with attention, when he +spoke on the conflicting interests of races. However his opinions might +please or displease, all liked to look upon his bright countenance, and +to hear his lively voice. Vincent Oge had said that Odeluc was a worse +foe to the mulattoes than many a worse man--he always so excited their +good-will as to make them forget their rights. + +As he now rose, the air from the peacock-fan stirring the white hair +upon his forehead (for in the heats of Saint Domingo it was permitted to +lay wigs aside), and the good wine animating yet further the spirit of +his lively countenance, Odeluc was received with a murmur of welcome, +before he opened his lips to speak. + +"I must acknowledge, my fellow-citizens," said he, "I never was more +satisfied with regard to the state of our colony than now. We have had +our troubles, to be sure, like the mother-country, and like all +countries where portions of the people struggle for power which they +ought not to have. But we have settled that matter for ourselves, by +the help of our good Governor, and I firmly believe that we are at the +commencement of a long age of peace." + +Here some applauded, while two or three shook their head. Odeluc +continued-- + +"I see some of my friends do not altogether share my hopes. Yet are +these hopes not reasonable? The Governor has himself assured me that +nothing shall induce him to notice the obnoxious decree, till he has, in +the first place, received it under all the official forms--in the next +place, written his remonstrance to the government at home--and, in the +third place, received an answer. Now, all this will take some time. In +three days, we deputies shall begin our session; and never were the +members of any assembly more united in their will and in their views, +and therefore more powerful. We meet for the express purpose of +neutralising the effects of this ill-judged decree; we have the power-- +we have the will--and who can doubt the results? The management of this +colony has always succeeded well in the hands of the whites; they have +made its laws, and enforced them--they have allowed the people of colour +liberty to pursue their own business, and acquire property if they +could, conscious of strength to restrain their excesses, if occasion +should arise: and, as for the negro population, where in the world were +affairs ever on a better footing between the masters and their force +than in the colony of Saint Domingo? If all has worked so well +hitherto, is it to be supposed that an ignorant shout in the National +Assembly, and a piece of paper sent over to us thence, can destroy the +harmony, and overthrow the prosperity which years have confirmed? I, +for one, will never believe it. I see before me in my colleagues men to +whom the tranquillity of the colony may be safely confided; and over +their heads, and beyond the wise laws they are about to pass for the +benefit of both the supreme and subordinate interests of our community. +I see, stretching beyond the reach of living eye, a scene of calm and +fruitful prosperity in which our children's children may enjoy their +lives, without a thought of fear or apprehension of change. Regarding +Governor Blanchelande as one of the chief securities of this our long +tenure of social prosperity, I beg to propose, not only that we shall +now drink his health, but that we shall meet annually in his honour on +this day. Yonder is Government-House. If we open our jalousies wide +enough, and give the honours loudly enough, perhaps our voices may reach +his ears, as the loyal greeting that he deserves." + +"Do not you smell smoke?" asked Bayou of his neighbour, as the blinds +were thrown open. + +"What a smell of burning!" observed the chairman to Odeluc at the same +moment. + +"They are burning field-trash outside the town, no doubt," Odeluc +answered. "We choose the nights when there is little wind, you know, +for that work." + +There was a small muster of soldiers round the gates of +Government-House, and several people in the streets, when the honours +were given to the Governor's name. But the first seemed not to hear, +and the others did not turn their heads. The air that came in was so +hot, that the blinds were immediately ordered to be closed again. The +waiters, however, seemed to have lost their obsequiousness, and many +orders and oaths were spent upon them before they did their duty. + +While the other gentlemen sat down, a young man remained standing, his +eyes flashing, and his countenance heated, either by wine, or by the +thoughts with which he seemed big. + +"My fellow-citizens," said Monsieur Brelle, beginning in a very loud +voice, "agreeing as I do in my hopes for this colony with Monsieur +Odeluc, and, like him, trusting in the protection and blessing of a just +Providence, which will preserve our rights, and chastise those who would +infringe them--feeling thus, and thus trusting, there is a duty for me +to perform. My friends, we must not permit the righteous chastisements +of Providence to pass by unheeded, and be forgotten. The finger of +Providence has been among us, to mark out and punish the guilty +disturber of our peace. But, though dead, that guilty traitor has not +ceased to disturb our peace. Do we not know that his groans have moved +our enemies in the National Assembly; that his ashes have been stirred +up there, to shed their poison over our names? It becomes us, in +gratitude to a preserving Providence, in fidelity to that which is +dearer to us than life--our fair fame--in regard to the welfare of our +posterity, it becomes us to mark our reprobation of treason and +rebellion, and to perpetuate in ignominy the name of the rebel and the +traitor. Fill your glasses, then, gentlemen, and drink--drink deep with +me--Our curse on the memory of Vincent Oge!" + +Several members of the company eagerly filled their glasses; others +looked doubtfully towards the chair. Before Dr Protean seemed to have +made up his mind what to do, Monsieur Papalier had risen, saying, in a +rather low and conversational tone-- + +"My young friend will allow me to suggest to him the expediency of +withdrawing his toast, as one in which his fellow-citizens cannot all +cordially join. We all unite, doubtless, in reprobating treason and +rebellion in the person of Oge; but I, for one, cannot think it good, +either in taste or in policy, to curse the memory of the dead in the +hearing of those who desire mercy for their fallen enemies (as some here +present do), or of others who look upon Oge as no criminal, but a +martyr--which is, I fear, the case with too many outside." He pointed +to the windows as he spoke, where it now appeared that the jalousies had +been pushed a little open, so as to allow opportunity for some +observation from without. Monsieur Papalier lowered his tone, so as to +be heard, during the rest of his speech, only by those who made every +effort to catch his words. Not a syllable could be heard in the +orchestra outside, or even by the waiters ranged against the wall; and +the chairman and others at the extremities of the table were obliged to +lean forwards to catch the meaning of the speaker, who proceeded-- + +"No one more heartily admires the spirit and good-humour of our friend, +Monsieur Odeluc, than myself: no one more enjoys being animated by the +hilarity of his temper, and carried away by the hopeful enthusiasm which +makes him the dispenser of happiness that he is. But I cannot always +sympathise in his bright anticipations. I own I cannot to-day. He may +be right. God grant he be so! But I cannot take Monsieur Odeluc's word +for it, when words so different are spoken elsewhere. There are +observers at a distance--impartial lookers-on, who predict (and I fear +there are signs at home which indicate) that our position is far from +secure--our prospects far other than serene. There are those who +believe that we are in danger from other foes than the race of Oge; and +facts have arisen--but enough. This is not the time and place for +discussion of that point. Suffice it now that, as we all know, +observers at a distance can often see deeper and farther than those +involved in affairs; and that Mirabeau has said--and what Mirabeau says +is, at least, worth attention--Mirabeau has said of us, in connection +with the events of last October, `They are sleeping on the margin of +Vesuvius, and the first jets of the volcano are not sufficient to awaken +them.' In compliment to Mirabeau," he concluded, smiling, and bowing to +Monsieur Brelle, "if not in sympathy with what he may think my needless +caution, I hope my young friend will reserve his wine for the next +toast." + +Monsieur Brelle bowed, rather sulkily. No one seemed ready at the +moment to start a new subject. Some attacked Monsieur Papalier in +whispers for what he had said; and he to defend himself, told, also in +whispers, facts of the murder of a bailiff on an estate near his own, +and of suspicious circumstances attending it, which made him and others +apprehend that all was not right among the negroes. His facts and +surmises went round. As, in the eagerness of conversation, a few words +were occasionally spoken aloud, some of the party glanced about to see +if the waiters were within earshot. They were not. There was not a +negro in the apartment. The band had gone out unnoticed; to refresh +themselves, no doubt. + +Odeluc took the brief opportunity to state his confidence that all +doubts of the fidelity of the negroes were groundless. He agreed with +Monsieur Papalier that the present was not the time and place for +entering at large into the subject. He would only just say that he was +now an old man, that he had spent his life among the people alluded to, +and knew them well, if any man did. They were revengeful, certainly, +upon occasion, if harshly treated; but, otherwise, and if not corrupted +by ignorant demagogues and designing agents, they were the most +tractable and attached people on earth. He was confident that the +masters in Saint Domingo had nothing to fear. + +He was proceeding; but he perceived that the band was re-entering the +orchestra, and he sat down abruptly. + +The chairman now discovered that it had grown very dark, and called out +for lights. His orders were echoed by several of the party, who hoped +that the lights would revive some of the spirit of the evening, which +had become very flat. + +While waiting for lights, the jalousies were once more opened, by orders +from the chair. The apartment was instantly pervaded by a dull, +changeful, red light, derived from the sky, which glowed above the trees +of the Jesuits' Walk with the reflection of extensive fires. The guests +were rather startled, too, by perceiving that the piazza was crowded +with heads; and that dusky faces, in countless number, were looking in +upon them, and had probably been watching them for some time past. With +the occasional puffs of wind, which brought the smell of burning, came a +confused murmur, from a distance, as of voices, the tramp of many horses +in the sand, and a multitude of feet in the streets. This was +immediately lost in louder sounds. The band struck up, unbidden, with +all its power, the Marseillaise Hymn; and every voice in the piazza, +and, by degrees, along the neighbouring streets and square, seemed to +join in singing the familiar words-- + + "Allons enfants de la patrie, + Le jour de gloire est arrive." + +The consternation of the deputies and their guests was extreme. Every +man showed his terror in his own way; but one act was universal. Each +one produced arms of one sort or another. Even Odeluc, it appeared, had +not come unarmed. While they were yet standing in groups about the +table, the door burst open, and a negro, covered with dust and panting +with haste, ran in and made for the head of the table, thrusting himself +freely through the parties of gentlemen. The chairman, at sight of the +man, turned pale, recoiled for a moment, and then, swearing a deep oath, +drew the short sword he wore, and ran the negro through the body. + +"Oh, master!" cried the poor creature, as his life ebbed out in the +blood which inundated the floor. + +The act was not seen by those outside, as there was a screen of persons +standing between the tables and the windows. To this accident it was +probably owing that the party survived that hour, and that any order was +preserved in the town. + +"Shame, Proteau! shame!" said Odeluc, as he bent down, and saw that the +negro was dying. Papalier, Bayou, and a few more, cried "Shame!" also; +while others applauded. + +"I will defend my deed," said Proteau, struggling with the hoarseness of +his voice, and pouring out a glass of wine to clear his throat. His +hand was none of the steadiest as he did so. "Hush that band! There is +no hearing oneself speak. Hush! I say; stop!" and swearing, he +passionately shook his fist at the musicians, who were still making the +air of the Marseillaise peal through the room. They instantly stopped, +and departed. + +"There! you have sent them out to tell what you have done," observed a +deputy. + +"I will defend my deed," Proteau repeated, when he had swallowed the +wine, "I am confident the negroes have risen. I am confident the fellow +came with bad intent." + +"_No_ fear but the negroes will rise, anywhere in the world, where they +have such as you for masters," said Odeluc. + +"What do you mean, sir?" cried Proteau, laying his hand on the hilt of +his dripping sword. + +"I mean what I say. And I will tell you, too, what I do not mean. I do +not mean to fight to-night with any white: and least of all with one who +is standing in a pool of innocent blood, of his own shedding." And he +pointed to Proteau's feet, which were indeed soaked with the blood of +his slave. + +"Hush! hush! gentlemen!" cried several voices. "Here is more news!" + +"Hide the body!" said Bayou, and as he spoke he stooped to lift it. +Monsieur Brelle made shorter work. He rolled it over with his foot, and +kicked it under the table. It was out of sight before the master of the +hotel entered, followed by several negroes from the plain, to say that +the "force" had risen on several plantations, had dismantled the mills, +burned the sugar-houses, set fire to the crops, murdered the overseers, +and, he feared, in some cases, the proprietors. + +"Where?" "Whose estates?" "What proprietors?" asked every voice +present. + +"Where did it begin?" was the question the landlord applied himself +first to answer. + +"It broke out on the Noe estate, sir. They murdered the refiner and his +apprentice, and carried off the surgeon. They left another young man +for dead; but he got away, and told the people on the next plantation; +but it was too late then. They had reached Monsieur Clement's by that +time, and raised his people. They say Monsieur Clement is killed; but +some of his family escaped. They are here in the town, I believe." + +Some of the deputies now snatched their hats, and went out to learn +where the fugitives were, and thus to get information, if possible, at +first hand. + +"All is safe in our quarter, at present, I trust," said Papalier to +Bayou; "but shall we be gone? Your horse is here, I suppose. We can +ride together." + +"In a moment. Let us hear all we can first," replied Bayou. + +"Do you stay for that purpose, then, and look to our horses. I will +learn what the Governor's orders are, and come here for you presently." +And Papalier was gone. + +When Bayou turned to listen again, Odeluc was saying-- + +"Impossible! incredible! Gallifet's force risen! Not they? They would +be firm if the world were crushed flat. Why, they love me as if I were +their father!" + +"Nevertheless, sir, you owe your safety to being my guest," said the +landlord, with a bow as polite as on the most festive occasion. "I am +happy that my roof should--" + +"Who brought this report?" cried Odeluc. "Who can give news of +Gallifet's negroes?" And he looked among the black faces which were +clustered behind the landlord. No one spoke thence; but a voice from +the piazza said-- + +"Gallifet's force has risen. The canes are all on fire." + +"I will bring them to their senses," said Odeluc, with sudden quietness. +"I have power over them. The Governor will give me a handful of men +from the town guard, and we shall set things straight before morning. +The poor fellows have been carried away, while I was not there to stand +by them--but making speeches here, like a holiday fool! I will bring +them to their senses presently. Make way, friends--make way." + +And Odeluc stepped out among the blacks on the piazza, that being the +shortest way to Government-House. + +"I hope he is not too confident," whispered a town deputy to a friend +from the south. "But this is bad news. Gallifet's plantation is the +largest in the plain, and only eight miles off." + +A sort of scream, a cry of horror, from one who stood close by, stopped +the deputy. + +"Boirien! what is the matter?" cried a deputy, as Boirien hid his face +with his arms upon the table, and a strong shudder shook his whole +frame. + +"Do not speak to him! I will tell you," said another. "Oh, this is +horrible! They have murdered his brother-in-law on Flaville's estate, +and carried off his sister and her three daughters into the woods. +Something must be done directly. Boirien, my poor fellow, I am going to +the Governor. Soldiers shall be sent to bring your sister into the +town. We shall have her here before morning; and you must bring her and +her family to my house." + +No one could endure to stay and hear more. Some went to learn elsewhere +the fate of those in whom they were interested. Some went to offer +their services to the Governor; some to barricade their own houses in +the town; some to see whether it was yet possible to entrench their +plantations. Some declared their intention of conveying the ladies of +their families to the convent; the place always hitherto esteemed safe, +amidst all commotions. It soon appeared, however, that this was not the +opinion of the sisters themselves, on the present occasion, nor of the +authorities of the town; for the muffled nuns were seen hurrying down to +the quay, under the protection of soldiers, in order to take refuge on +board the vessels in the bay. All night long, boats were plying in the +harbour, conveying women, children, plate, and money, on board the ships +which happened to be in the roads. + +The landlord would have been glad of the help of any of his guests, in +clearing his house; but they had no sympathy to spare--no time to think +of his plate and wines. As the whites disappeared from the room, the +blacks poured in. They allowed the landlord to sweep away his plate, +but they laid hands on the wines; and many a smart speech, and many a +light laugh, resounded within those walls till morning, while +consternation reigned without. When these thoughtless creatures +sauntered to their several homes in the sunrise, they found that such of +their fellow-servants as they had been accustomed to look up to, as +abler and more trusted than themselves, had disappeared, and no one +would tell whither they were gone--only that they were quite safe. + +When Monsieur Papalier returned to the hotel, from his cruise for +information, he found his neighbour Bayou impatiently waiting on +horseback, while Henri, still in his white apron, was holding the other +horse. + +"Here, sir--mount, and let us be off," cried Bayou. "We owe it to my +friend Henri, here, that we have our horses. The gentlemen from the +country very naturally took the first that came to hand to get home +upon. They say Leroy is gone home on a dray-mule. I rather expect to +meet Toussaint on the road. If he sees the fires, he will be coming to +look after me." + +"He cannot well help seeing the fires," replied Papalier. "They are +climbing up the mountain-side, all the way along the Haut du Cap. We +shall be singed like two porkers, if we do not ride like two devils; and +then we shall be lucky if we do not meet two thousand devils by the +way." + +"Do you suppose the road is safe, Henri?" asked Bayou. "I know you will +tell me truth." + +"Indeed, master, I know nothing," replied Henri. "You say you shall +meet Toussaint. I will ride with you till you meet him, if you will. +Our people all know him and me." + +"Do so, Henri. Do not wait to look for another horse. Jump up behind +me. Mine is a strong beast, and will make no difficulty, even of your +weight. Never mind your apron. Keep it for a flag of truce, in case we +meet the enemy." + +They were off, and presently emerged from the comparative darkness of +the streets into the light of the fires. None of the three spoke, +except to urge on the horses up the steep, sandy road, which first +presented an ascent from the town, and then a descent to the plain, +before it assumed the level which it then preserved to the foot of the +opposite mountains, nearly fifty miles off. No one appeared on the +road; and the horsemen had, therefore, leisure to cast glances behind +them, as they were slowly carried up the ascent. The alarm-bell was now +sending its sullen sounds of dismay far and wide in the air, whose +stillness was becoming more and more disturbed by the draughts of the +spreading fires, as the canes caught, like torches, up the slopes to the +right. Pale twinkling lights, sprinkled over the cape and the +harbour-lights which looked like glow-worm tapers amidst the fiery +atmosphere, showed that every one was awake and stirring in the town, +and on board the ships; while an occasional rocket, mounting in the +smoky air, from either the Barracks or Government-House, showed that it +was the intention of the authorities to intimate to the inhabitants of +the remoter districts of the plain that the Government was on the alert, +and providing for the public safety. + +On surmounting the ridge, Henri stretched out his hand, and pulled the +bridle of Monsieur Bayou's horse to the left, so as to turn it into a +narrow, green track which here parted from the road. + +"What now, sir?" cried Papalier, in a tone of suspicion, checking his +horse, instead of following. + +"You may, perhaps, meet two thousand devils, if you keep the high road +to the plain," answered Henri, quietly. To Monsieur Bayou he explained +that Toussaint would probably choose this road, through Madame Oge's +plantation. + +"Come on, Papalier; do not lose time. All is right enough," said Bayou. +"The grass-tracks are the safest to-night, depend upon it." + +Papalier followed, in discontented silence. In a few moments, Henri +again pulled the bridle--a decided check this time--stopping the horse. + +"Voices," he whispered. Bayou could hear none. In a moment, Henri +continued. + +"It is Toussaint, I thought we should meet him hereabouts." + +The next turn of the path brought them upon Toussaint, who was advancing +with the led horse from Breda. Not far behind him was Madame Oge's +house, the door standing wide, and, seen by the light within, a woman in +the doorway. Toussaint pulled up, Henri leaped down, and ran to shake +hands with his friend. Papalier took the opportunity to say, in a low +voice, to Bayou-- + +"You must send your fellow there on board ship. You must, there is no +doubt of it. The Governor, and all the householders in Cap, are doing +so with their cleverest negroes; and if there is a clever one in the +colony, it is Toussaint." + +"I shall do no such thing," said Bayou. "I have trusted Toussaint for +these thirty years; and I shall not distrust him now--now when we most +need those we can best confide in." + +"That is exactly what Monsieur Clement said of his postillion; and it +was his postillion that struck him to the heart. You must send +Toussaint on board ship; and I will tell you how--" + +Papalier stopped, perceiving that the two negroes were not talking, but +had their eyes fixed on him. + +"What is that?" said Henri. "Is Toussaint to go on board ship?" + +"No, no; nonsense," said Bayou; "I am not going to send anybody on board +ship. All quiet at Breda, I suppose, Toussaint?" + +"All quiet, sir, at present. Monsieur Papalier--on board ship I will +not go." + +"As your master pleases. It is no concern of mine, Toussaint," said +Papalier. + +"So I think," replied Toussaint. + +"You see your faithful hands, your very obedient friends, have got a +will of their own already," whispered Papalier to Bayou, as they set +their horses forward again: Henri turning homewards on the tired horse +which had carried double, and Bayou mounting that which Toussaint had +brought. + +"Will you go round, or pass the house?" Toussaint asked of his master. +"Madame Oge is standing in the doorway." + +Bayou was about to turn his horse's head, but the person in the doorway +came out into the darkness, and called him by his name. He was obliged +to go forward. + +"Madame," said he, "I hope you have no trouble with your people. I hope +your people are all steady." + +"Never mind me and my people," replied a tremulous voice. "What I want +to know is, what has happened at Cap. Who have risen? Whose are these +fires?" + +"The negroes have risen on a few plantations: that is all. We shall +soon--" + +"The negroes!" echoed the voice. "You are sure it is only the negroes?" + +"Only the negroes, madame. Can I be of service to you? If you have any +reason to fear that your force--" + +"I have no reason to fear anything. I will not detain you. No doubt +you are wanted at home, Monsieur Bayou." + +And she re-entered her house, and closed the doors. + +"How you have disappointed her!" said Papalier. "She hoped to hear that +her race had risen, and were avenging her sons on us. I am thankful +to-night," he continued, after a pause, "that my little girls are at +Paris. How glad might that poor woman have been, if her sons had stayed +there! Strange enough, Paris is called the very centre of disorder, and +yet it seems the only place for our sons and daughters in these days." + +"And strangely enough," said Bayou, "I am glad that I have neither wife, +son, nor daughter. I felt that, even while Odeluc, was holding forth +about the age of security which we were now entering upon--I felt at the +moment that there must be something wrong; that all could not be right, +when a man feels glad that he has only himself to take care of. Our +negroes are better off than we, so far. Hey, Toussaint?" + +"I think so, sir." + +"How many wives and children have you, Toussaint?" asked Papalier. + +"I have five children, sir." + +"And how many wives in your time?" + +Toussaint made no answer. Bayou said for him-- + +"He has such a good wife that he never wanted more. He married her when +he was five-and-twenty--did not you, Toussaint?" + +Toussaint had dropped into the rear. His master observed that Toussaint +was rather romantic, and did not like jesting on domestic affairs. He +was more prudish about such matters than whites fresh from the +mother-country. Whether he had got it out of his books, or whether it +really was a romantic attachment to his wife, there was no knowing; but +he was quite unlike his race generally in family matters. + +"Does he take upon himself to be scandalised at us?" asked Papalier. + +"I do not ask him. But if you like to consult him about your Therese, I +do not doubt he will tell you his mind." + +"Come, cannot we go on faster? This is a horrid road, to be sure; but +poor Therese will think it is all over with me, if she looks at the red +sky towards Cap." + +There were reasons enough for alarm about Monsieur Papalier's safety, +without looking over towards Cap. When the gentlemen arrived at Arabie, +his plantation, they found the iron gates down, and lying on the grass-- +young trees hewn down, as if for bludgeons--the cattle couched in the +cane-fields, lapped in the luxury of the sweet tops and sprouts--the +doors of the sugar-house and mansion removed, the windows standing wide, +and no one to answer call. The slave-quarter also was evidently +deserted. + +Papalier clapped spurs to his horse, and rode round, faster than his +companions could follow him. At length Bayou intercepted his path at a +sharp turn, caught his bridle, and said-- + +"My dear fellow, come with me. There is nothing to be done here. Your +people are all gone; and if they come back, they will only cut your +throat. You must come with me; and under the circumstances, I cannot +stay longer. I ought to be at home." + +"True, true. Go, and I will follow. I must find out whether they have +carried off Therese. I must, and I will." + +Toussaint pricked his horse into the courtyard, and after a searching +look around dragged out from behind the well a young negress who had +been crouching there, with an infant in her arms. She shrieked and +struggled till she saw Papalier, when she rushed towards him. + +"Poor Therese!" cried he, patting her shoulder. "How we have frightened +you! There is nobody here but friends. At least, so it seems. Where +are all the people? And who did this mischief?" + +The young creature trembled excessively; and her terror marred for the +time a beauty which was celebrated all over the district--a beauty which +was admitted as fully by the whites as by people of her own race. Her +features were now convulsed by fear, as she told what had happened--that +a body of negroes had come, three hours since, and had summoned +Papalier's people to meet at Latour's estate, where all the force of the +plain was to unite before morning--that Papalier's people made no +difficulty about going, only stopping to search the house for what arms +and ammunition might be there, and to do the mischief which now +appeared--that she believed the whites at the sugar-house must have +escaped, as she had seen and heard nothing of bloodshed--and that this +was all she knew, as she had hidden herself and her infant, first in one +place, and then in another, as she fancied safest, hoping that nobody +would remember her, which seemed to have been the case, as no one +molested her till Toussaint saw her, and terrified her as they +perceived. She had not looked in his face, but supposed that some of +Latour's people had come back for her. + +"Now you will come with me," said Bayou to Papalier, impatiently. + +"I will, thank you. Toussaint, help her up behind me, and carry the +child, will you? Hold fast, Therese, and leave off trembling as soon as +you can." + +Therese would let no one carry the infant but herself. She kept her +seat well behind her master, though still trembling when she alighted at +the stables at Breda. + +Placide and Denis were on the watch at the stables. + +"Run, Denis!" said his brother. And Denis was off to tell his mother +that Toussaint and Monsieur Bayou were safe home. + +"Anything happened, Placide?" asked Bayou. + +"Yes, sir. The people were sent for to Latour's, and most of them are +gone. Not all, sir. Saxe would not go till he saw father; nor Cassius, +nor Antoine, nor--" + +"Is there any mischief done? Anybody hurt?" + +"No, sir. They went off very quietly." + +"Quietly, indeed! They take quietly enough all the kindness I have +shown them these thirty years. They quietly take the opportunity of +leaving me alone to-night, of all nights, when the devils from hell are +abroad, scattering their fire as they go." + +"If you will enter, Monsieur Bayou," said Toussaint, "my wife will get +you supper; and the boys and I will collect the people that are left, +and bring them up to the house. They have not touched your arms, sir. +If you will have them ready for us--" + +"Good, good! Papalier, we cannot do better. Come in. Toussaint, take +home this young woman. Your girls will take care of her. Eh! what's +the matter? Well, put her where you will--only let her be taken care +of--that is all." + +"I will speak to Jeannette, sir." + +"Ay, do. Jeannette will let Therese come to no harm, Papalier. Come +in, till Toussaint brings a report of how matters stand with us poor +masters." + + + +CHAPTER THREE. + +WHAT TO DO! + +The report brought by Toussaint was astounding to his hearers, even +after the preparation afforded by the events of the evening. It was +clear that the negroes had everything in their own hand, and that the +spirit roused in them was so fierce, so revengeful, as to leave no hope +that they would use their power with moderation. The Breda estate, and +every one near it, was to be ravaged when those on the north side of the +plain were completely destroyed. The force assembled at Latour's +already amounted to four thousand; and no assistance could be looked for +from the towns at all adequate to meet such numbers, since the persons +and property of the whites, hourly accumulating in the towns as the +insurrection spread, required more than all the means of protection that +the colony afforded. The two gentlemen agreed, as they sat at the table +covered with supper, wine, and glittering arms, that to remain was to +risk their lives with no good object. It was clear that they must fly. + +Toussaint suggested that a quantity of sugar from the Breda estate was +now at Port Paix, lying ready for shipment. There was certainly one +vessel, if not more, in that port, belonging to the United States. If +the gentlemen would risk the ride to the coast with him, he thought he +could put them on board, and they might take with them this sugar, +intended for France, but now wanted for their subsistence in their +exile. Bayou saw at once that this was the best plan he could adopt. +Papalier was unwilling to turn his back so soon, and so completely, on +his property. Bayou was only attorney to the Breda estate, and had no +one but himself to care for. Papalier was a proprietor, and he could +not give up at once, and for ever, the lands which his daughters should +inherit after him. He could not instantly decide upon this. He would +wait some hours at least. He thought he could contrive to get into some +town, or into the Spanish territory, though he might be compelled to +leave the plain. He slept for this night with his arms at hand, and +under the watch of Placide, who might be trusted to keep awake and +listen, as his father vouched for him. Bayou was gone presently; with +such little money as he happened to have in the house; and in his +pockets, the gold ornaments which Toussaint's wife insisted on his +accepting, and which were not to be despised in this day of his +adversity. He was sorry to take her necklace and ear-rings, which were +really valuable; but she said, truly, that he had been a kind master for +many years, and ought to command what they had, now that they were all +in trouble together. + +Before the next noon, Monsieur Bayou was on board the American vessel in +the harbour of Port Paix, weary and sad, but safe, with his sugar, and +pocketsful of cash and gold trinkets. Before evening, Toussaint, who +rode like the wind, and seemed incapable of fatigue, was cooling himself +under a tamarind-tree, in a nook of the Breda estate. + +He was not there to rest himself, while the world seemed to be falling +into chaos around him. He was there for the duty of the hour--to meet +by appointment the leader of the insurgents, Jean Francais, whom, till +now, he had always supposed to be his friend, as far as their +intercourse went, though Jean had never been so dear to him as Henri. +He had not sat long, listening for sounds of approach amidst the clatter +of the neighbouring palm-tree tops, whose stiff leaves struck one +another as they waved in the wind, when Jean appeared from behind the +mill. + +"You have stopped our wheel," said Toussaint, pointing to the reeking +water-mill. "It will be cracked in the sun before you can set it going +again." + +"Yes, we have stopped all the mills," replied Jean. "Every stream in +the colony has a holiday to-day, and may frolic as it likes. I am +afraid I made you wait supper last night?" + +"You gave me poison, Jean. You have poisoned my trust in my friends. I +watched for you as for a friend; and what were you doing the while? You +were rebelling, ravaging, and murdering!" + +"Go on," said Jean. "Tell me how it appears to you; and then I will +tell you how it appears to me." + +"It appears to me, then, that if the whites are to blame towards those +who are in their power--if they have been cruel to the Oges, and their +party--if they have oppressed their negroes, as they too often have, our +duty is clear--to bear and forbear, to do them good in return for their +evil. To rise against them cunningly, to burn their plantations, and +murder them--to do this is to throw back the gospel in the face of Him +who gave it!" + +"But you do not understand this rising. It is not for revenge." + +"Why do I not understand it. Because you knew that I should disapprove +it, and kept me at home by a false appointment, that I might be out of +the way. Do you say all this is not for revenge? I look at the hell +you have made of this colony between night and morning, and I say that +if this be not from revenge, there must be something viler than revenge +in the hearts of devils and of men." + +"And now, hear me," said Jean, "for I am wanted at Latour's, and my time +is short. It was no false appointment last night. I was on my way to +you, when I was stopped by some news which altered our plans in a +moment, and made us rise sooner, by three days, than we expected. I was +coming to tell you all, and engage you to be one of our chiefs. Have +you heard that the _Calypso_ has put into port at the other end of the +island?" + +"No." + +"Then you do not know the news she brought. She has a royalist master, +who is in no hurry to tell his news to the revolutionary whites. The +king and all his family tried to escape from France in June. They were +overtaken on the road, and brought back prisoners to Paris." + +Toussaint, who always uncovered his head at the name of the king, now +bent it low in genuine grief. + +"Is it not true," said Jean, "that our masters are traitors? Do they +not insult and defy the king? Would there not have been one shout of +joy through all Cap last night, if this news had been brought to the +deputies after dinner with their wine?" + +"It is true. But they would still have been less guilty than those who +add ravage and murder to rebellion." + +"There was no stopping the people when the messengers from the _Calypso_ +crossed the frontier, and sent the cry, `Vive le Roi! et l'ancien +regime,' through the negro quarters of every estate they reached. The +people were up on the Noe plantation at the word. Upon my honour, the +glare of the fire was the first I knew about it. Then the spirit spread +among our people, like the flames among our masters' canes. I like +murder no better than you, Toussaint; but when once slaves are up, with +knife and firebrand, those may keep revenge from kindling who can--I +cannot." + +"At least, you need not join--you can oppose yourself to it." + +"I have not joined. I have saved three or four whites this day by +giving them warning. I have hidden a family in the woods, and I will +die before I will tell where they are. I did what I could to persuade +Gallifet's people to let Odeluc and his soldiers turn back to Cap: and I +believe they would, but for Odeluc's obstinacy in coming among us. If +he would have kept his distance, he might have been alive now. As it +is--" + +"And is he dead?--the good Odeluc?" + +"There he lies; and half-a-dozen of the soldiers with him. I am sorry, +for he always thought well of us; but he thrust himself into the danger. +One reason of my coming here now is to say that this plantation and +Arabie will be attacked to-night, and Bayou had better roost in a tree +till morning." + +"My master is safe." + +"Safe? Where?" + +"On the sea." + +"You have saved him. Have you--I know your love of obedience is +strong--have you pledged yourself to our masters, to oppose the rising-- +to fight on their side?" + +"I give no pledges but to my conscience. And I have no party where both +are wrong. The whites are revengeful, and rebel against their king; and +the blacks are revengeful, and rebel against their masters." + +"Did you hear anything on the coast of the arrival of the _Blonde_ +frigate from Jamaica?" + +"Yes; there again is more treason. The whites at Cap have implored the +English to take possession of the colony. First traitors to the king, +they would now join the enemies of their country. Fear not, Jean, that +I would defend the treason of such; but I would not murder them." + +"What do you mean to do? this very night your estate will be attacked. +Your family is almost the only one remaining on it. Have you thought +what you will do?" + +"I have; and your news only confirms my thought." + +"You will not attempt to defend the plantation?" + +"What would my single arm do? It would provoke revenge which might +otherwise sleep." + +"True. Let the estate be deserted, and the gates and doors left wide, +and no mischief may be done. Will you join us then?" + +"Join you! no! Not till your loyalty is free from stain. Not while you +fight for your king with a cruelty from which your king would recoil." + +"You will wait," said Jean, sarcastically, "till we have conquered the +colony for the king. That done you will avow your loyalty." + +"Such is not my purpose, Jean," replied Toussaint, quietly. "You have +called me your friend; but you understand me no more than if I were your +enemy. I will help to conquer the colony for the king; but it shall be +to restore to him its lands as the King of kings gave them to him--not +ravaged and soaked in blood, but redeemed with care, to be made fair and +fruitful, as held in trust for him. I shall join the Spaniards, and +fight for my king with my king's allies." + +Jean was silent, evidently struck with the thought. If he had been +troubled with speculations as to what he should do with his +undisciplined, half-savage forces, after the whites should have been +driven to entrench themselves in the towns, it is possible that this +idea of crossing the Spanish line, and putting himself and his people +under the command of these allies, might be a welcome relief to his +perplexity. + +"And your family," said he: "will the Spaniards receive our women and +children into their camp?" + +"I shall not ask them. I have a refuge in view for my family." + +"When will you go?" + +"When you leave me. You will find the estate deserted this night, as +you wish. The few negroes who are here will doubtless go with me; and +we shall have crossed the river before morning." + +"You would not object," said Jean, "to be joined on the road by some of +our negro force; on my pledge, you understand, that they will not ravage +the country." + +"Some too good for your present command?" said Toussaint, smiling. "I +will command them on one other condition--that they will treat well any +white who may happen to be with me." + +"I said nothing about your commanding them," said Jean. "If I send men +I shall send officers. But whites! what whites? Did you not say Bayou +was on the sea?" + +"I did; but there may be other whites whom I choose to protect, as you +say you are doing. If, instead of hiding whites in the woods, I carry +them across the frontier, what treatment may I expect for my party on +the road?" + +"I will go with you myself, and that is promising everything," said +Jean, making a virtue of what was before a strong inclination. "Set out +in two hours from this time. I will put the command of the plain into +Biasson's hands, and make a camp near the Spanish lines. The posts in +that direction are weak, and the whites panic-struck, if indeed they +have not all fled to the fort. Well, well," he continued, "keep to your +time, and I will join you at the cross of the four roads, three miles +south of Fort Dauphin. All will be safe that far, at least." + +"If not, we have some strong arms among us," replied Toussaint. "I +believe my girls (or one of them at least) would bear arms where my +honour is at stake. So our king is a prisoner! and we are free! Such +are the changes which Heaven sends!" + +"Ay, how do you feel, now you are free?" said Jean. "Did you not put +your horse to a gallop when you turned your back on your old master?" + +"Not a word of that, Jean. Let us not think of ourselves. There is +work to do for our king. He is our task-master now." + +"You are in a hurry for another master," said Jean. "I am not tired of +being my own master yet." + +"I wish you would make your people masters of themselves, Jean. They +are not fit for power. Heaven take it from us, by putting all power +into the hand of the king!" + +"We meet by starlight," said Jean. "I have the business of five +thousand men to arrange first; so, more of the king another time." + +He leaped the nearest fence and was gone. Toussaint rose and walked +away, with a countenance so serious, that Margot asked if there was bad +news of Monsieur Bayou. + +When the family understood that the Breda estate was to be attacked this +night, there was no need to hasten their preparations for departure. In +the midst of the hurry, Aimee consulted Isaac about an enterprise which +had occurred to her, on her father's behalf; and the result was, that +they ventured up to the house, and as far as Monsieur Bayou's +book-shelves, to bring away the volumes they had been accustomed to see +their father read. This thought entered Aimee's mind when she saw him, +busy as he was, carefully pocket the Epictetus he had been reading the +night before. Monsieur Papalier was reading, while Therese was making +packages of comforts for him. He observed the boy and girl, and when he +found that the books they took were for their father, he muttered over +the volume he held-- + +"Bayou was a fool to allow it. I always told him so. When our negroes +get to read like so many gentlemen, no wonder the world is turned upside +down." + +"Do your negroes read, Monsieur Papalier?" asked Isaac. + +"No, indeed! not one of them." + +"Where are they all, then?" + +Aimee put in her word. + +"Why do they not take care of you, as father did of Monsieur Bayou?" + + + +CHAPTER FOUR. + +WHITHER AWAY? + +Monsieur Papalier did not much relish the idea of roosting in a tree for +the night; especially as, on coming down in the morning, there would be +no friend or helper near, to care for or minister to him. Habitually +and thoroughly as he despised the negroes, he preferred travelling in +their company to hiding among the monkeys; and he therefore decided at +once to do as Toussaint concluded he would--accompany him to the Spanish +frontier. + +The river Massacre, the boundary at the north between the French and +Spanish portions of the island, was about thirty miles distant from +Breda. These thirty miles must be traversed between sunset and sunrise. +Three or four horses, and two mules which were left on the plantation, +were sufficient for the conveyance of the women, boys, and girls; and +Placide ran, of his own accord, to Monsieur Papalier's deserted stables, +and brought thence a saddled horse for the gentleman, who was less able +than the women to walk thirty miles in the course of a tropical summer's +night. + +"What will your Spanish friends think of our bringing so many women and +children to their post?" said Papalier to Toussaint, as soon as they +were on their way. "They will not think you worth having, with all the +incumbrances you carry." + +"I shall carry none," said Toussaint. + +"What do you mean to do with your wife and children?" + +"I shall put them in a safe place by the way. For your own sake, +Monsieur Papalier, I must ask you what you mean to do in the Spanish +post--republican as you are. You know the Spaniards are allies of the +king of France." + +"They are allies of France, and will doubtless receive any honourable +French gentleman," said Papalier confidently, though Toussaint's +question only echoed a doubt which he had already spoken to himself. +"You are acting so like a friend to me here, Toussaint, that I cannot +suppose you will do me mischief there, by any idle tales about the +past." + +"I will not; but I hear that the Marquis d'Hermona knows the politics of +every gentleman in the colony. If there have been any tales abroad of +speeches of yours against the king, or threats, or acts of rebellion, +the Marquis d'Hermona knows them all." + +"I have taken less part in politics than most of my neighbours; and +Hermona knows that, if he knows the rest. But what shall I do with +Therese, if your women stop short on the way? Could you make room for +her with them?" + +"Not with them, but--" + +"My good fellow, this is no time for fancies. I am sorry to see you set +your girls above their condition and their neighbours. There is no harm +about poor Therese. Indeed, she is very well educated; I have had her +well taught; and they might learn many things from her, if you really +wish them to be superior. She is not a bit the worse for being a +favourite of mine; and it will be their turn soon to be somebody's +favourites, you know. And that before long, depend upon it," he +continued, turning on his saddle to look for Genifrede and Aimee. "They +are fine girls,--very fine girls for their age." + +When he turned again, Toussaint was no longer beside his horse. He was +at the head of the march. + +"What a sulky fellow he is!" muttered the planter, with a smile. "The +airs of these people are curious enough. They take upon them to despise +Therese, who has more beauty than all his tribe, and almost as much +education as the learned Toussaint himself." + +He called to the sulky fellow, however, and the sulky fellow came. What +Papalier wanted to say was-- + +"You seem to know more of these Spaniards than I. What will become of +Therese, if I take her among them; which, you see, you oblige me to do?" + +"I proposed to her," said Toussaint, "to leave her with some of our +people near Fort Dauphin." + +"Fort Egalite, you mean. That is its present name, you know. So you +asked her! Why did you not speak to me about it? It is my affair, not +hers." + +"I thought it her affair. She will not remain behind, however. She +begged me to say nothing to you about her leaving you." + +"Indeed! I will soon settle that." And the planter immediately +overtook the horse on which sat Therese, with her infant on her arm. +Therese smiled as she saw him coming; but the first few words he said to +her covered her face with tears. Blinded by these tears, she guided her +horse among the tough aloes which grew along the border of the +bridle-path, and the animal stumbled, nearly jerking the infant from her +arms. Her master let her get over the difficulty as she might, while he +rode on in the midst of the green track. + +Placide disdained to ride. He strode along, singing in a low voice, +with a package on his shoulders, and his path marked by the fireflies, +which new round his head, or settled on his woollen cap. Isaac had made +Aimee happy by getting on her mule. Genifrede heard from the direction +in which they were, sometimes smothered laughter, but, for the most +part, a never-ending, low murmur of voices, as if they were telling one +another interminable stories. Genifrede never could make out what Isaac +and Aimee could be for ever talking about. She wondered that they could +talk now, when every monkey-voice from the wood, every click of a frog +from the ponds, every buzz of insects from the citron-hedge, struck fear +into her. She did not ask Placide to walk beside her horse; but she +kept near that on which her mother rode, behind Denis, who held a +cart-whip, which he was forbidden to crack--an accomplishment which he +had learned from the driver of the plantation. + +It soon became clear that Jean had made active use of the hours since he +parted from Toussaint. He must have sent messengers in many directions; +for, from beneath the shadow of every cacao grove, from under the +branches of many a clump of bamboos, from the recess of a ravine here-- +from the mouth of a green road there, beside the brawling brook, or from +their couch among the canes, appeared negroes, singly or in groups, +ready to join the travelling party. Among all these, there were no +women and children. They had been safely bestowed somewhere; and these +men now regarded themselves as soldiers, going to the camp of the +allies, to serve against their old masters on behalf of the king. "Vive +le Roi, et l'ancien regime!" was the word as each detachment joined--a +word most irritating to Papalier, who thought to himself many times +during this night, that he would have put all to hazard on his own +estate, rather than have undertaken this march, if he had known that he +was to be one of a company of negroes, gathering like the tempest in its +progress, and uttering at every turning, as if in mockery of himself, +"Vive le Roi, et l'ancien regime!" He grew _very_ cross, while quite +sensible of the necessity of appearing in a good mood to every one-- +except, indeed, poor Therese. + +"We are free--this is freedom!" said Toussaint more than once as he laid +his hand on the bridle of his wife's horse, and seemed incapable, of +uttering any other words. He looked up at the towering trees, as if +measuring with his eye the columnar palms, which appeared to those in +their shade as if crowned with stars. He glanced into the forest with +an eye which, to Margot, appeared as if it could pierce through darkness +itself. He raised his face in the direction of the central +mountain-peaks, round which the white lightning was exploding from +moment to moment; and Margot saw that tears were streaming on his face-- +the first tears she had known him shed for years. "We are free--this is +freedom!" he repeated, as he took off his cap; "but, thank God! we have +the king for our master now." + +"You will come and see us," said she. "We shall see you sometimes while +you are serving the king." + +"Yes." He was called away by another accession of numbers, a party of +four who ran down among them from a mountain path. Toussaint brushed +away his unwonted tears, and went forward, hearing a well-known voice +inquire for Toussaint Breda. + +"Here I am, Jacques!" he exclaimed in some surprise, as he addressed +himself to a short, stout-built young negro. "You are the first +townsman among us, Jacques. Where is old Dessalines?" + +"Here is my master," said Jacques. + +"Not the better for being a master," said the old tiler, who was himself +a negro. "I found myself no safer than Jacques in the town; so I came +away with him, and we have been among the rocks all day, tired enough." + +"Have not you a horse for him?" asked Jacques. Toussaint stepped back, +to desire Aimee and Isaac to give up their mule to Dessalines; but +before it was done, Dessalines was mounted on Papalier's horse. Jacques +had told Papalier, on finding that he had not been walking at all, that +his horse was wanted, and Papalier had felt all the danger of refusing +to yield it up. He was walking moodily by the side of Therese, when +Toussaint offered him the mule, which he haughtily declined. + +When Dessalines was mounted, Jacques came running forward to Toussaint, +to ask and to tell much concerning their singular circumstances. + +"Your party is too noisy," said he. "The whole country is up; and I +saw, not far-off, two hours ago, a party that were bringing ammunition +from Cap. There may be more; and, if we fall in their way, with a white +in company--" + +"True, true." And Toussaint turned back to command silence. He told +every one that the safety of all might depend on the utmost possible +degree of quietness being observed. He separated Isaac from Aimee, as +the only way of obtaining silence from them, and warned the merry blacks +in the rear that they must be still as death. He and Jacques, however, +exchanged a few more words in a low whisper, as they kept in advance of +the party. + +"How do they get ammunition from Cap?" asked Toussaint. "Have they a +party in the town? I thought the town negroes had been sent on board +ship." + +"The suspected ones are. They are the silly and the harmless who have +still wit and mischief enough to give out powder and ball slyly for the +plantation negroes. Once over the river, what will you do with your +party?" + +"My wife and children will be safe with my brother Paul--you know he +fishes on the coast, opposite the Seven Brothers. I shall enter the +Spanish ranks; and every one else here will do as he thinks proper." + +"Do not you call yourself a commander, then! Why do you not call us +your regiment, and take the command as a matter of course, as Jean has +done?" + +"If it is desired, I am ready. Hark!" + +There was evidently a party at some distance, numerous and somewhat +noisy, and on the approach from behind. Toussaint halted his party, +quickly whispered his directions, and withdrew them with all speed and +quietness within the black shade of a cacao-plantation, on the left of +the road. They had to climb an ascent; but there they found a green +recess, so canopied with interwoven branches that no light could enter +from the stars, and so hedged in by the cacao plants, growing twelve +feet high among the trees, that the party could hardly have been seen +from the road in broad daylight. There they stood crowded together in +utter darkness and stillness, unless, as Genifrede feared, the beating +of her heart might be heard above the hum of the mosquito, or the +occasional rustle of the foliage. + +The approaching troop came on, tramping, and sometimes singing and +shouting. Those in the covert knew not whether most to dread a shouting +which should agitate their horses, or a silence which might betray a +movement on their part. This last seemed the most probable. The noise +subsided; and when the troop was close at hand, only a stray voice or +two was singing. They had with them two or three trucks, drawn by men, +on which were piled barrels of ammunition. They were now very near. +Whether it was that Therese, in fear of her infant crying, pressed it so +close to her bosom as to awaken it, or whether the rumbling and tramping +along the road roused its sleeping ear--the child stirred, and began +what promised to be a long shrill wawl, if it had not been stopped. How +it was stopped, the trembling, sickening mother herself did not know. +She only knew that a strong hand wrenched the child from her grasp in +the black darkness, and that all was still, unless, as she then and ever +after had a shuddering apprehension, there was something of a slight +gurgle which reached her strained ear. Her own involuntary moan was +stopped almost before it became a sound--stopped by a tap on the +shoulder, whose authoritative touch she well knew. + +No one else stirred for long after the troop had passed. Then Toussaint +led his wife's horse down into the road again, and the party resumed +their march as if nothing had happened. + +"My child!" said Therese, fearfully. "Give me my child!" She looked +about, and saw that no one seemed to have the infant. + +"I will not let it cry," she said. "Give me back my child!" + +"What is it?" asked Papalier, coming beside her horse. She told her +grief, as she prepared to spring down. + +"No, keep your seat! Don't get down," said he, in a tone she dared not +disobey. "I will inquire for the child." + +He went away, and returned--without it. "This is a sad thing," said he, +leading her horse forward with the rest. "No one knows anything about +the poor thing. Why did you let it go?" + +"Have you asked them all? Who snatched it from me? Oh, ask who took +it! Let me look for it. I will--I will--" + +"It is too late now. We cannot stop or turn back. These sad accidents +will happen at such times." + +"Leave me behind--oh, leave me in the wood! I can follow when I have +found it. Leave me behind!" + +"I cannot spare you, my dear. I should never see you again; and I +cannot spare you. It is sad enough to have lost the child." + +"It was your child," said she, pleadingly. + +"And you are mine too, my dear. I cannot spare you both." + +Therese had never felt before. All that had moved her during her yet +short life--all emotions in one were nothing to the passion of this +moment--the conditional hatred that swelled her soul; conditional--for, +from moment to moment, she believed and disbelieved that Papalier had +destroyed her child. The thought sometimes occurred that he was not the +only cruel one. No one seemed to pity or care for her--not even Margot +or the girls came near her. She more than once was about to seek and +appeal to them; but her master held her bridle, and would not permit her +to stop or turn, saying occasionally that the lives of all depended on +perfect quiet and order in the march. When they arrived at the cross, +at the junction of the four roads, they halted, and there she told her +story, and was convinced that the grieved women knew nothing of her loss +till that moment. It was too late now for anything but compassion. + +Jean Francais soon appeared with a troop so numerous, that all necessity +for caution and quiet was over. They could hardly meet an equal force +during the remainder of the march, and might safely make the forests and +ravines echo to their progress. Jean took off his cocked hat in +saluting Toussaint, and commended his punctuality and his arrangements. + +"Jean always admires what my husband does," observed Margot to her +acquaintance Jacques. "You hear how he is praising him for what he has +done to-night." + +"To be sure. Everybody praises Toussaint Breda," replied Jacques. + +The wife laughed with delight. + +"Everybody praises him but me," pursued Jacques. "I find fault with him +sometimes; and to-night particularly." + +"Then you are wrong, Jacques. You know you have everybody against you." + +"Time will show that I am right. Time will show the mischief of sending +away any whites to do us harm in far countries." + +"Oh, you do not blame him for helping away Monsieur Bayou!" + +"Yes, I do." + +"Why, we have been under him ever since we were children--and a kind +youth he was then. And he taught my husband to read, and made him his +coachman; and then he made him overseer; and he has always indulged the +children, and always bought my young guinea-fowl, and--" + +"I know that. All that will not prevent the mischief of helping him +away. Toussaint ought to have seen that if we send our masters to all +the four sides of the world, they will bring the world down upon us." + +"Perhaps Toussaint did see it," said the man himself, from the other +side of his wife's horse. "But he saw another thing, too--that any +whites who stayed would be murdered." + +"That is true enough; and murdered they ought to be. They are a race of +tyrants and rebels that our warm island hates." + +"Nobody hated Monsieur Bayou," said Margot. + +"Yes, I did. Every one who loves the blacks hates the whites." + +"I think not," said Toussaint. "At least, it is not so with Him who +made them both. He is pleased with mercy, Jacques, and not with +murder." + +Jacques laughed, and muttered something about the priests having been +brought in by the whites for a convenience; to which Toussaint merely +replied that it was not a priest, nor an ally of white masters, who +forgave His enemies on the cross. + +"Father," said Placide, joining the group, "why is Jean commanding your +march? He speaks to you as if you were under him." + +"Because he considers it his march." + +"He praised your father--very much, Placide," said his mother. + +"Yes--just as if my father were under him--as if the march were not +ours. We began it." + +"I command those who began it--that is, my own family, Placide. I +command you to obey Jean, while you are with him. On the other side the +river, you shall be commander, all the way to your uncle's house. You +will follow his lead, Margot?" + +"Oh, yes, if he leads straight. Jean is a commander, Placide. Look at +his cocked hat." + +"And he calls himself commander-in-chief of the armies of France." + +"In Saint Domingo. Well, so he is," said Toussaint, smiling, and +pointing to the troop. "Here are the armies of the King of France in +Saint Domingo; and here Jean commands." + +At this moment, Jean made proclamation for Toussaint Breda; and +Toussaint joined him, leaving his wife saying, "You see he wants my +husband at every turn. I am sure he thinks a great deal of my husband." + +"Toussaint," said Jean, "I shall introduce you to the Marquis d'Hermona; +and I have no doubt he will give you a command." + +"I shall introduce myself to him, Jean." + +"But he will be expecting you. He will receive you according to my +report--as a man of ability, and a most valuable officer. I sent +messengers forward to tell him of my approach with reinforcements; and I +gave a prodigious report of you." + +"Still I shall speak for myself, Jean." + +"What I now have to ask of you is, that you will dress like an officer-- +like me. The uniform is, on the whole, of no great consequence at this +season, when the whites wear all the linen, and as little cloth as they +can. But the hat. Toussaint--the hat! You will not show yourself to +the Marquis d'Hermona in a cap! For my sake, do not show yourself till +you have procured a cocked hat." + +"Where did you get yours, Jean?" + +Jean could only say that it was from one who would never want it again. + +"We will go as we are," said Toussaint. "You look like a commander, as +you are--and I look what I am, Toussaint Breda." + +"But he will not believe what I shall say of you, if he sees a mere +common negro." + +"Then let him disbelieve, till I have shown what I am. We shall find +daylight on the other side this ridge." + +They had been for some time ascending the ridge which lies north and +south between Fort Dauphin and the river Massacre, the Spanish boundary. +In the covert of the woods which clothed the slope all was yet +darkness; but when the travellers could catch a glimpse upwards through +the interwoven branches, they saw that the stars were growing pale, and +that the heavens were filling with a yellower light. On emerging from +the woods on the summit of the ridge, they found that morning was indeed +come, though the sun was not yet visible. There was a halt, as if the +troops now facing the east would wait for his appearance. To the left, +where the ridge sank down into the sea, lay Mancenillo Bay, whose dark +grey waters, smooth as glass, as they rolled in upon the shore, began to +show lines of light along their swell. A dim sail or two, small and +motionless, told that the fishermen were abroad. From this bay, the +river Massacre led the eye along the plain which lay under the feet of +the troops, and between this ridge and another, darkly wooded, which +bounded the valley to the east; while to the south-east, the view was +closed in by the mass of peaks of the Cibao group of mountains. At the +first moment, these peaks, rising eight thousand feet from the plain, +appeared hard, cold, and grey, between the white clouds that encumbered +their middle height and the kindling sky. But from moment to moment +their aspect softened. The grey melted into lilac, yellow, and a faint +blushing red, till the start, barren crags appeared bathed in the hues +of the soft yielding clouds which opened to let forth the sun. The +mists were then seen to be stirring,--rising, curling, sailing, rolling, +as if the breezes were imprisoned among them, and struggling to come +forth. The breezes came, and, as it seemed, from those peaks. The +woods bent before them at one sweep. The banyan-tree, a grove in +itself, trembled through all its leafy columns, and shook off its dews +in a wide circle, like the return shower of a playing fountain. Myriads +of palms which covered the uplands, till now still as a sleeping host +beneath the stars, bowed their plumed heads as the winds went forth, and +shook off dews and slumber from the gorgeous parasitic beauties which +they sustained. With the first ray that the sun levelled among the +woods, these matted creepers shook their flowery festoons, their twined, +green ropes, studded with opening blossoms and bells, more gay than the +burnished insects and gorgeous birds which flitted among their tangles. +In the plain, the river no longer glimmered grey through the mists, but +glittered golden among the meadows, upon which the wild cattle were +descending from the clefts of the hills. Back to the north the river +led the eye, past the cluster of hunters' huts on the margin,--past the +post where the Spanish flag was flying, and whence the early drum was +sounding--past a slope of arrowy ferns here, a grove of lofty cocoa-nut +trees there, once more to the bay, now diamond-strewn, and rocking on +its bosom the boats, whose sails were now specks of light in contrast +with the black islets of the Seven Brothers, which caught the eye as if +just risen from the sea. + +"No windmills here! No cattle-mills!" the negroes were heard saying to +one another. "No canes, no sugar-houses, no teams, no overseers' +houses, no overseers! By God, it is a fine place, this! So we are +going down there to be soldiers to the king! those cattle are wild, and +yonder are the hunters going out! By God, it is a fine place!" + +In somewhat different ways, every one present, but Papalier and Therese, +was indulging the same mood of thought. There was a wildness in the +scene which made the heart beat high with the sense of freedom. For +some the emotion seemed too strong. Toussaint pointed out to his boys +the path on the other side of the river which would lead them to the +point of the shore nearest to Paul's hut, instructed them how to find or +make a habitation for their mother and sisters till he could visit them, +gave his wife a letter to his brother, and, except to bid his family a +brief farewell for a brief time, spoke no more till he reached the +Spanish post, and inquired for the General. + +Jean stepped before him into the general's presence, taking possession +of the centre of the green space before the tent, where the Marquis +d'Hermona was enjoying the coolness of the morning. After having duly +declared his own importance, and announced the accession of numbers he +was likely to bring, Jean proceeded to extol Toussaint as one of the +valuables he had brought. After apologising for his friend's want of a +cocked hat, he proceeded to exhibit his learning, declaring that he had +studied "Plutarch", "Caesar's Commentaries", "Epictetus", "Marshal +Saxe's Military Reveries--" + +Here he was stopped by the grasp of Toussaint's hand upon his arm. +Toussaint told the General that he came alone, without chief and without +followers: the few men who had left Breda with him having ranged +themselves with the force of Jean Francais. He came alone to offer the +strength of his arm, on behalf of his king, to the allies of royalist +France. + +The Spanish soldiers, who glittered all around in their arms and bright +uniform, looked upon the somewhat gaunt negro in his plantation dress, +dusty with travel, and his woollen cap in hand, and thought, probably, +that the king of France would not be much aided by such an ally. It is +probable; for a smile went round, in which Jean joined. It is probable +that the Marquis d'Hermona thought differently, for he said-- + +"The strength of your arm! Good! And the strength of your head, too, I +hope. We get more arms than heads from your side of the frontier. Is +it true that you have studied the art of war?" + +"I have studied it in books." + +"Very well. We want officers for our black troops--all we can raise in +the present crisis. You will have the rank of colonel in a regiment to +be immediately organised. Are you content?" + +Toussaint signified his assent, and orders were given for a tent to be +prepared for his present repose. He looked around, as if for some one +whom he did not see. On being asked, he said that if there was at the +post a priest who spoke French, he could wish to converse with him. + +"Laxabon understands French, I think," said the marquis to a gentleman +of his staff. The aide assented. + +"Your excellent desire shall be gratified," said the General. "I doubt +not Father Laxabon will presently visit you in your tent." + +Father Laxabon had heard rumours of the horrors perpetrated in the +French colony within the last two nights. On being told that his +attendance was equally desired by a fugitive negro, he recoiled for a +moment from what he might have to hear. + +When he entered the tent, he found Toussaint alone, on the ground, his +bosom bursting with deep and thick-coming sobs, "How is this, my son?" +said the priest. "Is this grief, or is it penitence?" + +"I am free," said Toussaint, "and I am an oppression to myself. I did +not seek freedom. I was at ease, and did not desire it, seeing how men +abuse their freedom." + +"You must not, then, abuse your freedom, my son," said the priest, +wholly relieved. + +"How shall I appear before God--I who have ever been guided, and who +know not whether I can guide myself--my master gone--my employment +gone--and I, by his will, a free man, but unprepared, unfit?--Receive my +confession, father, and guide me from this time." + +"Willingly, my son. He who has appointed a new lot to you will enable +me to guide you in it." + +The tent was closed; and Toussaint kneeled to relieve his full heart +from its new sense of freedom, by subjecting himself to a task-master of +the soul. + + + +CHAPTER FIVE. + +GRIEFS OF THE LOYAL. + +Margot doubted much, at the end of the first week, and at the end of +every following week, whether she liked freedom. Margot had had few +cares during the many years that she had lived under the mild rule of +Monsieur Bayou--her husband faithful and kind, and her children provided +for without present anxiety on her part. Thoughts of the future would, +it is true, occasionally trouble her, as she knew they weighed heavily +on her husband's mind. When she saw Genifrede growing up, handsome in +her parents' eyes, and so timid and reserved that her father sometimes +said he wondered whether any one would ever know her mind better than +her own family did--when Margot looked upon Genifrede, and considered +that her lot in life depended on the will of Monsieur Bayou, she +shuddered to think what it might be. When Monsieur Bayou told Genifrede +that she was well coiffee, or that he wished she would show the other +girls among the house-negroes how to make their Sunday gowns sit like +hers, Genifrede invariably appeared not to hear, and often walked away +in the midst of the speech; and then her mother could not but wonder how +she would conduct herself, whenever the day should come that must come, +when (as there was no one on the Breda estate whom Genifrede liked, or +would associate with) Monsieur Bayou should bring some one to their +cottage, and desire Genifrede to marry him. When Margot looked upon her +sons, and upon Aimee, now so inseparable from Isaac, and considered that +their remaining together depended not only on Monsieur Bayou's will, but +on his life, she trembled lest the day should be at hand when Placide +might be carried away northward, and Isaac eastward, and poor Aimee left +desolate. Such had been the mother's passing cares in the situation in +which nothing had been wanting to her immediate comfort. Now, amidst +the perplexities of her new settlement, she was apt to forget that she +had formerly had any cares. + +Where to house the party had been the first difficulty. But for old +Dessalines, who, being no soldier, had chosen to hide himself in the +same retreat with them, they would hardly have had good shelter before +the rains. Paul had received them kindly; but Paul's kindness was of a +somewhat indolent sort; and it was doubtful whether he would have +proceeded beyond looking round his hut, and lamenting that it was no +bigger, if his spirited son Moyse, a fine lad of sixteen, had not been +there to do something more effectual, in finding the place and the +materials for the old tiler to begin his work. It was Moyse who +convinced the whole party from the plain that a hut of bamboo and +palm-leaves would fall in an hour before one of the hail-storms of this +rocky coast; and that it would not do to build on the sands, lest some +high tide should wash them all away in the night. It was Moyse who led +his cousins to the part of the beach where portions of wrecks were most +likely to be found, and who lent the strongest hand to remove such beams +and planks as Dessalines wanted for his work. A house large enough to +hold the family was soon covered in. It looked well, perched on a +platform of rock, and seeming to nestle in a recess of the huge +precipices which rose behind it. It looked well, as Dessalines could +obtain neither of his favourite paints to smear it with. It stood, +neither red nor blue, but nearly the colour of the rocks, against which +it leaned, and thatched with palm-leaves, which projected so far as to +throw off the rains, even to a depth below. + +Paul provided fish--as much as his relations chose to have; but the +young people chose to have many other things, under the guidance of +Moyse; and here lay their mother's daily care. She believed that both +boys and girls ran into a thousand dangers, and no one would help her to +restrain them. Paul had always let Moyse have his own way; and +Dessalines, when he had brought in drift-wood for her fires, which he +daily chose to do, lay down in the sun when the sun shone, and before +the fire when the clouds gathered, and slept away the hours. Paul +wanted help in his fishing; and it was commonly Isaac who went with him; +for Isaac was more fond of boating than rambling. Where Isaac was, +there was Aimee. She gave no contemptible help in drawing in the nets; +and when the fish was landed, she and Isaac sat for hours among the +mangroves which bordered the neighbouring cove, under pretence of +cleaning the fish, or of mending the nets, or of watching the cranes +which stalked about the sands. Sometimes, in order to be yet more +secure from disturbance, the brother and sister would put off again, +when they had landed Paul with his prize, and get upon the coral reef, +half a mile off--in calm weather collecting the shell-fish which were +strewed there in multitudes, and watching the while the freaks and +sports of the dolphins in the clear depths around; and in windy weather +sitting in the midst of the spray, which was dashed over them from the +heavy seas outside. Many times in a morning or evening did Margot look +out from her doorway, and see their dusky forms upon the reef, now +sitting motionless in talk, now stooping for mussels and crabs, and +never till the last moment in the boat, on their way home. Sometimes +Denis was with them--sometimes with her--but oftenest with the party led +by Moyse. + +Moyse had first enticed Genifrede up the rocks behind their dwelling, to +get grass for hammocks, and to make matting for the floors. Almost from +the first day, it appeared as if Genifrede's fears all melted away in +the presence of Moyse; and her mother became sure of this when, after +grass enough had been procured, Genifrede continued to accompany Placide +and Moyse in their almost daily expeditions for sporting and pleasure. +They brought guanas, tender young monkeys, and cocoa-nuts from the wood, +wild kids from the rock, delicate ducks from the mountain-ponds, and +sometimes a hog or a calf from the droves and herds which flourished in +the rich savannahs on the southern side, on which they looked down from +their ridge. In the joy of seeing her children home again, gladsome as +they were, and feeling that they brought plenty and luxury into her +cottage, Margot kept her cares to herself, from day-to-day, and did not +interfere with their proceedings. She sometimes thought she was +foolish, and always was glad to see them enjoying their freedom; but +still, she felt doubtful whether she herself had not been happier at +Breda. The only time when her heart was completely at ease and exulting +was when Toussaint came to see his family, to open his heart to his +wife, and to smile away her troubles. Her heart exulted when she saw +him cross the ridge, with a mounted private behind him, urge his horse +down the ascent, gallop along the sands to the foot of the rocks, throw +the bridle to his attendant, and mount to the platform, looking up as he +approached, to see whether she was on the watch. She was always on the +watch. She liked to admire his uniform, and to hear his sword clatter +as he walked. She liked to see him looking more important, more +dignified, than Bayou or Papalier had ever appeared in her eyes. Then, +her heart was always full of thoughts about their children, which he was +as anxious to hear as she to tell; and he was the only one from whom she +could learn anything of what was going on in the world, or of what +prospects lay before themselves. He brought news from France, from Cap +and the plain, and, after a while, from America--that Monsieur Bayou was +settled at Baltimore, where he intended to remain till, as he said, the +pacification of the colony should enable him to return to Breda. There +was no fear, as Toussaint always found, but that Margot would be looking +out for him. + +The tidings he brought were never very joyous, and often sad enough. He +said little of his personal cares; but Margot gathered that he found it +difficult to keep on good terms with Jean. Once he had resigned his +rank of colonel, and had assumed an office of which Jean could not be +jealous--that of physician to the forces--an office for which he was +qualified by an early and extensive acquaintance with the common +diseases of the country, and the natural remedies provided by its soil. +When the Marquis d'Hermona had insisted upon his resuming his command, +as the best officer the negro forces could boast, Jean had purposed to +arrest him on some frivolous charge, and the foolish act had only been +prevented by a frank and strong remonstrance from his old friend. All +this time, Toussaint's military successes had been great; and his name +now struck such awe into the lawless forces of the insurgent blacks, +that it was unnecessary for him to shed their blood. He held the post +of Marmalade, and from thence was present with such unheard-of rapidity +of march, wherever violence was expected, that the spirit of outrage +throughout the colony was, at length, kept in check. This peaceful mode +of standing by the rights of the king was more acceptable to the gentle +Toussaint than the warfare by which he had gained his power over his own +race; but he knew well that things could not go on as they were--that +order of some kind must be established--order which could be reached +only through a fierce final struggle; and of what nature this order was +to be, depended wholly upon the turn which affairs took in Europe. + +He rarely brought good news from abroad. His countenance always grew +sad when Margot asked what ships had arrived from France since his last +visit. First he had to tell her that the people of Paris had met in the +Champ de Mars, and demanded the dethronement of the king; then, that +Danton had audaciously informed the representatives of France that their +refusal to declare the throne vacant would be the signal for a general +insurrection. After this, no national calamity could surprise the loyal +colonists, Toussaint said; for the fate of Louis as a king, if not as a +man, was decided. Accordingly, there followed humiliations, deposition, +imprisonment, during which little could be known of the mind, and even +of the condition of the king: and those who would have served him +remained in anxious suspense. It happened, one warm day in the spring, +when every trace of the winter hail-storms had passed away, that the +whole party were amusing themselves in trying to collect enough of the +ripening sea-side grape for a feast. The bright round leaves were broad +and abundant; but the clusters of the fruit were yet only of a pale +yellow, and a berry here and there was all that was fit for gathering. +The grape-gathering was little more than a pretence for basking in the +sun, or for lounging in the shade of the abundant verdure, which seemed +to have been sown by the hurricane, and watered by the wintry surf, so +luxuriantly did it spring from the sands and the salt waves. The +stately manchineel overhung the tide; the mangroves sprang out of the +waters; the sea-side grape overspread the sands with a thick green +carpet, and kept them cool, so that as the human foot sought the spot, +the glittering lizards forsook it, and darted away to seek the hot face +of the rock. For full half a mile this patch of verdure spread; and +over this space were dispersed Margot and her household, when Toussaint +crossed the ridge, on one of his frequent visits. As he descended, he +heard laughter and singing; and among the singing voices, the cracked +pipe of old Dessalines. Toussaint grieved to interrupt this mirth, and +to think that he must leave dull and sad those whom he found so gay. +But he came with bad news, and on a mournful errand, and there was no +help for it. As he pricked on his horse towards the party, the young +people set up a shout and began to run towards him, but stopped short on +seeing how unusually large a train he brought. Five or six mounted +soldiers, instead of one, followed him this time, and they led several +horses. + +"Oh, you are come to take us home!" cried Margot, joyfully, as she met +him. + +He shook his head as he replied--"_No_, Margot, not yet. But the time +may come." + +"I wish you could tell us when it would come," said Dessalines. "It is +all very well gathering these things, and calling them grapes, for want +of better; but give me the grapes that yield one wine. I wonder who has +been gathering the grapes from my trellis all this time, while, the +whole rainy season through, not a drop did I taste? I wish you had left +your revolutions and nonsense till after my time, that I might have sat +under my own vine and my own fig-tree, as the priest says, till the end +of my days." + +"Indeed I wish so too, Dessalines. But you shall have some wine." + +"Ay, send us some. Jacques will tell you what I like. Don't forget, +Toussaint Breda. They talk of palm wine in the season; but I do not +believe we shall get any worth drinking from the palms hereabouts." + +"What is the matter with our palms?" cried Moyse, firing up for the +honour of the northern coast. "I will get you a cabbage for dinner +every day for a month to come," he added, moderating his tone under his +uncle's eye--"every day, till you say that our palms, too, are as good +as any you have in the plain; and as for palm wine, when the season +comes--" + +"No, let me--let me cut the cabbage!" cried Denis. "I can climb as +quick as a monkey now--a hundred feet in two minutes. Let me climb the +palmetto, Moyse." + +"First take back my horse to those soldiers, my boy," said his father, +setting Denis upon his horse, "and then let us all sit down here in the +shade." + +"All those horses," said Margot, anxiously: "what is to be done with +them to-day? There are so many!" + +"They will return presently," replied her husband. "I am not going to +stay with you to-day. And, Margot, I shall take the lads with me, if +they are disposed to go." + +"The lads! my boys!" + +"Yes," said Toussaint, throwing himself down in the shade. "Our country +and its people are orphaned; and the youngest of us must now make +himself a soldier, that he may be ready for any turn of affairs which +Providences may appoint. Do you hear, my boys?" + +"Yes, father," answered Placide in an earnest tone. + +"They have then murdered the king?" asked Margot; "or did he die of his +imprisonment?" + +"They brought him to trial, and executed him. The apes plucked down the +evening star, and quenched it. We have no king. We and our country are +orphaned." + +After a pause, Paul said-- + +"It is enough to make one leave one's fishing, and take up a gun." + +"I rejoice to hear you say so, brother," said Toussaint. + +"Then, father, you will let me go," cried Moyse. "You will give me your +gun, and let me go to the camp." + +"Yes, Moyse: rather you than I. You are a stout lad now, and I know +nothing of camps. You shall take the gun, and I will stay and fish." + +"Leave your father his gun, if he chooses to remain, Moyse. We will +find arms for you. Placide! Isaac!" he continued, looking from one to +the other of his sons. + +"And Denis," cried the boy, placing himself directly in his father's +eye, as he returned breathless from the discharge of his errand. + +"Yes, my boy, by-and-bye, when you are as strong as Placide. You shall +come to the camp when we want you." + +"I will go to-day, father," said Placide. + +"What to do?" said Isaac. "I do not understand." + +Other eyes besides Aimee's were fixed on Toussaint's face, in anxiety +for his reply. + +"I do not know, my son, what we are to do next. When the parent of a +nation dies, it may take some time to decide what is the duty of those +who feel themselves bereaved. All I now am sure of is, that it cannot +but be right for my children to be fitted to serve their country in any +way that they may find to be appointed. I wish to train you to arms, +and the time has come. Do not you think so?" + +Isaac made no direct reply, and Aimee had strong hopes that he was +prepared with some wise, unanswerable reason for remaining where he was. +Meanwhile, his father proceeded-- + +"In all that I have done, in all that I now say, I have the sanction of +Father Laxabon." + +"Then all is right, we may be sure," said Margot. "I have no doubt you +would be right, if you had not Father Laxabon to consult; but if he +thinks you right, everything must be done as you wish. My boys," +pursued the tearful mother, "you must go with your father: you hear +Father Laxabon thinks so." + +"Do you think so?" whispered Aimee to Isaac. + +He pressed her arm, which was within his, in token of silence, while his +father went on: + +"You heard the proclamation I sent out among our people a few weeks +ago." + +"Yes," said Placide; "that in which you tell them that you prefer +serving with Spaniards who own a king, than with French who own none." + +"Yes. I have had to make the same declaration to the two commissaries +who have arrived at Cap under orders from the regicides at Paris. These +commissaries have to-day invited me to their standard by promises of +favour and consideration." + +"What do they promise us?" asked Margot eagerly. + +"Nothing that we can accept. I have written a letter in reply, saying +that I cannot yield myself to the will of any member of the nation, +seeing that, since nations began, obedience has been due only to kings. +We have lost the king of France; but we are beloved by the monarch of +Spain, who faithfully rewards our services, and never intermits his +protection and indulgence. Thus, I cannot acknowledge the authority of +these commissaries till they shall have enthroned a king. Such is the +letter which, guided by Father Laxabon, I have written." + +"It is a beautiful letter, I am sure," said Margot. "Is it not, Paul." + +"I don't doubt Father Laxabon is right," said Dessalines; "only I do not +see the use of having a king, if people are turned out of house and home +for being loyal--as we all are. If we had not cared anything about the +king's quarrel, we might have been under our vines at home, as I have +often said before." + +"And how would it have been with us here?" said Toussaint, laying his +hand on his breast. + +"Put your hand a little lower, and I say it would have been all the +better for us," said the old negro, laughing, "for we should not have +gone without wine all this time." + +"What do you think?" Aimee, as usual, asked Isaac. + +"I think it was good for my father to be loyal to the king, as long as +the king lived. I think it was good for us to be living here free, with +time to consider what we should do next. And I think it has happened +very well that my father has shown what a soldier he is, which he could +not so well have done if we had stayed at Breda. As for Dessalines, he +is best where the vines grow thickest, or where the cellars are deepest. +It is a pity he should have taken upon him to be loyal." + +"And what do you think of going to the camp with my father? Look at +Moyse--how delighted he is!" + +Moyse certainly did look possessed with joy. He was rapidly telling all +his warlike intentions to Genifrede, who was looking in his face with a +countenance of fear and grief. + +"You think nothing of us," she cried at length, giving way to a passion +of tears. "We have been so happy here, all together; and now you are +glad to go, and leave us behind! You will go and fight, without caring +for us--you will be killed in this horrid war, and we shall never see +you again--we shall never know what has become of you." + +Moyse's military fire was instantly quenched. It immediately appeared +to him the greatest of miseries to have to leave his cousins. He +assured Genifrede he could not really intend to go. He had only been +fancying what a war with the white masters would be. He hated the +whites heartily; but he loved this place much more. Placide and Isaac +might go, but he should stay. Nothing should part him from those he +loved best. + +Toussaint was not unmindful of what was passing. Genifrede's tones of +distress, and Moyse's protestations, all reached his ear. He turned, +and gently drew his daughter towards him. + +"My child," said he, "we are no longer what we have been--slaves, whose +strength is in the will of their masters. We are free; and to be free +requires a strong heart, in women as well as in men. When Monsieur +Bayou was our master, we rose and slept every day alike, and went out to +our work, and came in to our food, without having to think of anything +beyond. Now we are free, and God has raised us to the difficult duties +which we have always reverenced in the whites. We men must leave our +homes to live in camps, and, if necessary, to fight; and you, women and +girls, must make it easy for us to do our duty. You must be willing to +see us go--glad to spare us--and you must pray to God that we may not +return till our duty is done." + +"I cannot--I shall not," Genifrede muttered to herself, as she cast down +her eyes under her father's compassionate gaze. He looked towards +Aimee, who answered, with tearful eyes-- + +"Yes, father. They must go; and we will not hinder them; but they will +soon be back, will not they?" + +"That depends on how soon we can make good soldiers of them," said he, +cheerfully. "Come, Moyse, have you changed your mind again? Or will +you stay and plait hammocks, while my boys are trained to arms?" + +"I shall not stay behind, if the others go. But why should not we all +go together? I am sure there is room enough in yonder valley for all +the people on this coast." + +"Room enough, but my family are better beside your father than among +soldiers and the hunters of the mountains. Stay with them, or go with +me. Shoot ducks, and pick up shell-fish here; or go with me, and +prepare to be General Moyse some day." + +Moyse looked as if he would have knocked his uncle down at the +supposition that he would stay to pick up shell-fish. He could not but +laugh, however, at hearing himself greeted as General Moyse by all the +boys; and even Genifrede smiled. + +Margot moved, sighing, towards the rocks, to put up for her boys such +comforts as she could muster, and to prepare the meal which they must +have before they went. Her girls went with her; and Denis shouted after +them, that he was to get the cabbage from the palmetto, adding, that if +they gave him a good knife, he would take it off as neatly as the Paris +people took off the king. His father grasped his arm, and said-- + +"Never name the king, my boy, till you feel grieved that you have lost +him. You do not know what you say. Remember--never mention the king +unless we ask you." + +Denis was glad to run after his cabbage. His father remembered to +praise it at dinner. No one else praised or liked anything. Margot and +Aimee were tearful; Genifrede was gloomy. The lads could think of +nothing but the new life before them, which yet they did not like to +question their father about, till they should have left the tears +behind. No sooner were they past the first turn up the ridge, than they +poured out their inquiries as to life in the camp, and the prospects of +the war. Their eager gestures were watched by those they left behind; +and there was a feeling of mortification in each woman's heart, on +seeing this evidence that home was already forgotten for busier scenes. +They persuaded themselves, and believed of each other, that their grief +was for the fearful death of the king; and they spoke as if this had +been really the case. + +"We have no one to look up to, now," said Margot, sobbing; "no one to +protect us. Who would have thought, when I married, how desolate we +should be one day on the sea-shore--with our master at Baltimore, and +the king dead, and no king likely to come after him! What will become +of us?" + +"But Margot," interposed Dessalines, "how should we be better off at +this moment, if the king were alive and flourishing at Paris?" + +"How?" repeated Margot, indignantly. "Why, he would have been our +protector, to be sure. He would have done some fine thing for my +husband, considering what my husband has done for him. If our beloved +king (on his throne) knew of my husband's victory at Plaisance, and of +his expedition to Saint Marc, and of his keeping quiet all these +plantations near Marmalade, and of the thousands that he had brought +over from the rebels, do you think a good master like the king would +have left us to pine here among the rocks, while Jean Francais is +boasting all day long, as if he had done everything with his own hand? +No, our good king would never have let Jean Francais' wife dress herself +in the best jewels the white ladies left behind, while the wife and +daughters of his very best officer are living here in a hut, on a rock, +with no other clothes to wear than they brought away from Breda. No, +no; as my husband says, in losing the king we are orphans." + +"I can get you as good clothes as ever Jean's wife wore, Margot," said +Paul, whose soft heart was touched by her grief. "I can run my boat +along to a place I know of, where there are silks and trinkets to be +had, as well as brandy. I will bring you and the girls some pretty +dresses, Margot." + +"No, Paul, not here. We cannot wear them here. And we shall have no +pleasure in anything, now we have lost the only one who could take care +of us. And who knows whether we shall ever see our boys again?" + +"Curse the war!" muttered Paul, wiping his brows. + +"Mother," said Aimee in a low voice, "have we not God to protect us +still? One master may desert us, and another may die; but there is +still God above all. Will not he protect us?" + +"Yes, my dear. God takes care of the world; but then He takes care of +our enemies as well as of us." + +"Does he?" exclaimed Denis, in a tone of surprise. + +"Yes; ask your father if Father Laxabon does not say so. The name of +God is for ever in the mouths of the whites at Cap; but they reviled the +king; and, true enough, the king was altogether on our side,--we had all +his protection." + +"All that is a good deal changed now, I hear," said Paul. "The whites +at Cap are following the example of the rebels at Paris, and do not rely +upon God, as on their side, as they used to do." + +"Will God leave off taking care of them, then?" asked Denis, "and take +care only of us?" + +"No," said Aimee. "God is willing, Isaac says, to take care of all men, +whether they serve him or not." + +Denis shook his head, as if he did not quite approve this. + +"Our priest told Isaac," continued Aimee, "that God sends his rain on +the just and on the unjust. And do not you know that he does? When the +rains come next month, will they not fall on all the plantations of the +plain, as well as in the valley where the camp is? Our waterfalls will +be all the fresher and brighter for the rains, and so will the springs +in Cap." + +"But if he is everybody's master, and takes care of everybody," said +Denis, "what is all this fighting about? We are not fighting for Him, +are we?" + +"Your father is," said Margot; "for God is always on the side of kings. +Father Laxabon says so." + +The boy looked puzzled, till Aimee said-- + +"I think there would be none of this fighting if everybody tried to +please God and serve Him, as is due to a master--as father did for the +king. God does not wish that men should fight. So our priest at Breda +told Isaac." + +"Unless wicked rebels force them to it, as your father is forced," said +Margot. + +"I suppose so," said Aimee, "by Isaac's choosing to go." + + + +CHAPTER SIX. + +THE HOUR. + +The lads found some of the details of military training less heroic and +less agreeable than they had imagined--scarcely to be compared, indeed, +under either aspect, to the chase of the wild goats, and search for +young turtle, to which they had been of late accustomed. They had their +pleasures, however, amidst the heats, toils, and laborious offices of +the camp. They felt themselves men, living among men: they were young +enough to throw off, and almost to forget, the habits of thought which +belong to slavery; and they became conscious of a spirit growing up +within them, by which they could look before and after, perceive that +the future of their lives was in their own hands, and therefore +understand the importance of the present time. Their father looked upon +them with mixed feelings of tender pride in them, and regret for his own +lost youth. The strong and busy years on which they were entering had +been all spent by him in acquiring one habit of mind, to which his +temperament and his training alike conduced--a habit of endurance. It +was at this time that he had acquired the power of reading enough to +seek for books; and the books that he had got hold of were Epictetus, +and some fragments of Fenelon. With all the force of youth, he had been +by turns the stoic and the quietist; and, while busied in submitting +himself to the pressure of the present, he had turned from the past, and +scarcely dreamed of the future. If his imagination glanced back to the +court of his royal grandfather, held under the palm shades, or pursuing +the lion-hunt amidst the jungles of Africa, he had hastily withdrawn his +mind's eye from scenes which might create impatience of his lot; and if +he ever wondered whether a long succession of ignorant and sensual +blacks were to be driven into the field by the whip every day in Saint +Domingo, for evermore, he had cut short the speculation as inconsistent +with his stoical habit of endurance, and his Christian principle of +trust. It was not till his youth was past that he had learned anything +of the revolutions of the world--too late to bring them into his +speculations and his hopes. He had read, from year to year, of the +conquests of Alexander and of Caesar; he had studied the wars of France, +and drawn the plans of campaigns in the sand before his door till he +knew them by heart; but it had not occurred to him, that while empires +were overthrown in Asia, and Europe was traversed by powers which gave +and took its territories, as he saw the negroes barter their cocoa-nuts +and plantains on Saturday nights--while such things had happened in +another hemisphere, it had not occurred to him that change would ever +happen in Saint Domingo. He had heard of earthquakes taking place at +intervals of hundreds of years, and he knew that the times of the +hurricane were not calculable; but, patient and still as was his own +existence, he had never thought whether there might not be a convulsion +of human affections, a whirlwind of human passion, preparing under the +grim order of society in the colony. If a master died, his heir +succeeded him; if the "force" of any plantation was by any conjuncture +of circumstances dispersed or removed, another negro company was on the +shore, ready to re-people the slave-quarter. The mutabilities of human +life had seemed to him to be appointed to whites--to be their privilege +and their discipline; while he doubted not that the eternal command to +blacks was to bear and forbear. When he now looked upon his boys, and +remembered that for them this order was broken up, and in time for them +to grasp a future, and prepare for it--that theirs was the lot of +whites, in being involved in social changes, he regarded them with a far +deeper solicitude and tenderness than in the darkest midnight hours of +their childish illnesses, or during the sweetest prattle of their +Sabbath afternoons, and with a far stronger hopefulness than can ever +enter the heart or home of a slave. They had not his habitual patience; +and he saw that they were little likely to attain it; but they daily +manifested qualities and powers--enterprise, forecast, and aspiration of +various kinds, adorning their youth with a promise which made their +father sigh at the retrospect of his own. He was amused, at the same +time, to see in them symptoms of a boyish vanity, to which he had either +not been prone, or which he had early extinguished. He detected in each +the secret eagerness with which they looked forward to displaying their +military accomplishments to those with whom they were always exchanging +thoughts over the ridge. He foresaw that when they should have improved +a little in certain exercises, he should be receiving hints about a +visit to the shore, and that there would then be such a display upon the +sands as should excite prodigious admiration, and make Denis break his +heart that he must not go to the camp. + +Meantime, he amused them in the evenings, with as many of his officers +as chose to look on, by giving them the history of the wars of Asia and +Europe, as he had learned it from books, and thoroughly mastered it by +reflection. Night after night was the map of Greece traced with his +sword's point on the sand behind his tent, while he related the +succession of the conflicts with Persia, with a spirit derived from old +Herodotus himself. Night after night did the interest of his hearers +arouse more and more spirit in himself, till he became aware that his +sympathies with the Greeks in their struggles for liberty had hitherto +been like those of the poet born blind, who delights in describing +natural scenery--thus unconsciously enjoying the stir within him of +powers whose appropriate exercise is forbidden. Amidst this survey of +the regions of history, he felt, with humble wonder, that while his boys +were like bright-eyed children sporting fearlessly in the fields, he was +like one lately couched, by whom the order of things was gradually +becoming recognised, but who was oppressed by the unwonted light, and +inwardly ashamed of the hesitation and uncertainty of his tread. While +sons, nephew, and a throng of his officers, were listening to him as to +an oracle, and following the tracings of his sword, as he showed how +this advance and that retreat had been made above two thousand years +ago, he was full of consciousness that the spirit of the history of +freedom was received more truly by the youngest of his audience than by +himself--that he was learning from their natural ardour something of +higher value than all that he had to impart. + +As he was thus engaged, late one spring evening--late, because the rains +would soon come on, and suspend all out-door meetings--he was stopped in +the midst of explaining a diagram by an authoritative tap on the +shoulder. Roused by an appeal to his attention now so unusual, he +turned quickly, and saw a black, who beckoned him away. + +"Why cannot you speak!--Or do you take me for some one else? Speak your +business." + +"I cannot," said the man, in a voice which, though too low to be heard +by anyone else, Toussaint knew to be Papalier's. "I cannot speak here-- +I must not make myself known. Come this way." + +Great was the surprise of the group at seeing Toussaint instantly follow +this black, who appeared in the dusk to be meanly clothed. They entered +the tent, and let down the curtain at the entrance. Some saw that a +woman stood within the folds of the tent. + +"Close the tent," said Papalier, in the same tone in which he had been +wont to order his plate to be changed at home. "And _now_, give me some +water to wash off this horrid daubing. Some water--quick! Pah! I have +felt as if I were really a negro all this day." + +Toussaint said nothing; nor did he summon any one. He saw it was a case +of danger, led the way into the inner part of the tent, poured out +water, pointed to it, and returned to the table, where he sat down, to +await further explanation. + +Papalier at length re-appeared, looking like himself, even as to his +clothes, which Therese must have brought in the bundle which she +carried. She now stood leaning against one of the tent-poles, looking +grievously altered--worn and wearied. + +"Will you not sit down, Therese?" said Toussaint, pointing to a chair +near his own, Papalier having seated himself on the other side of the +table. + +Therese threw herself on a couch at some distance, and hid her face. + +"I must owe my safety to you again, Toussaint," said Papalier. "I +understand General Hermona is here at present." + +"He is." + +"You have influence with him, and you must use it for me." + +"I am sorry you need it. I hoped you would have taken advantage of the +reception he gave you to learn the best time and manner of going to +Europe. I hoped you had been at Paris long ago." + +"I ought to have been there. If I had properly valued my life, I should +have been there. But it seemed so inconceivable that things should have +reached a worse pass than when I crossed the frontier! It seemed so +incredible that I should not be able to preserve any wreck of my +property for my children, that I have lingered on, staying month after +month, till now I cannot get away. I have had a dreadful life of it. I +had better have been anywhere else. Why, even Therese," he continued, +pointing over his shoulder towards the couch, "Therese, who would not be +left behind at Fort Egalite, the night we came from Breda--even Therese +has not been using me as she should do. I believe she hates me." + +"You are in trouble, and therefore I will not speak with you to-night +about Therese," said Toussaint. "You are in danger, from the +determination of the Spaniards to deliver up the enemies of the late +king to--" + +"Rather say to deliver up the masters to their revolted slaves. They +make politics the pretence; but they would not be sorry to see us all +cut to pieces, like poor Odeluc and Clement, and fifty more." + +"However that may be, your immediate danger is from the Spaniards--is +it?" + +"Yes, I discovered that I was to be sent over the line to-morrow; so I +was obliged to get here to-day in any way I could; and there was no +other way than--pah! it was horrid!" + +"No other way than by looking like a negro," said Toussaint, calmly. +"Well, now you are here, what do you mean to do next?" + +"I mean, by your influence with General Hermona, to obtain protection to +a port, that I may proceed to Europe. I do not care whether I go from +Saint Domingo, or by Saint Iago, so as to sail from Port Plate. I could +find a vessel from either port. You would have no difficulty in +persuading General Hermona to this?" + +"I hope not, as he voluntarily gave you permission to enter his +territory. I will ask for his safe-conduct in the morning. To-night +you are safe, if you remain here. I request that you will take +possession of the inner apartment, and rely upon my protection." + +"Thankyou. I knew my best way was to come here," said Papalier, rising. +"Therese will bring me some refreshment; and then I shall be glad of +rest, for we travelled half last night." + +"For how many shall the safe-conduct be?" asked Toussaint, who had also +risen. "For yourself alone, or more?" + +"No one knows better than you," said Papalier, hastily, "that I have +only one servant left," pointing again to the couch. "And," lowering +his voice, so that Therese could not hear, "she, poor thing, is +dreadfully altered, you see--has never got over the loss of her child, +that night." Then, raising his voice again, he pursued: "My daughters +at Paris will be glad to see Therese, I know; and she will like Paris, +as everybody does. All my other people are irrecoverable, I fear; but +Therese goes with me." + +"No," said Therese, from the conch, "I will go nowhere with you." + +"Hey-day! what is that?" said Papalier, turning in the direction of the +voice. "Yes, you will go, my dear. You are tired to-night, as you well +may be. You feel as I do--as if you could not go anywhere, to-morrow or +the next day. But we shall be rested and ready enough, when the time +comes." + +"I am ready at this moment to go anywhere else--anywhere away from you," +replied Therese. + +"What do you mean, Therese?" asked her master, sharply. + +"I mean what you said just now--that I hate you." + +"Oh! silence!" exclaimed Toussaint. He then added in a mild tone to +Therese, "This is my house, in which God is worshipped and Christ +adored, and where therefore no words of hatred may be spoken." He then +addressed himself to Papalier, saying, "You have then fully resolved +that it is less dangerous to commit yourself to the Spaniards than to +attempt to reach Cap?" + +"To reach Cap! What! after the decree? Upon my soul, Toussaint, I +never doubted you yet; but if--" + +He looked Toussaint full in the face. + +"I betray no one," said Toussaint. "What decree do you speak of?" + +"That of the Convention of the 4th of February last." + +"I have not heard of it." + +"Then it is as I hoped--that decree is not considered here as of any +importance. I trusted it would be so. It is merely a decree of the +Convention, confirming and proclaiming the liberty of the negroes, and +declaring the colony henceforth an integrant part of France. It is a +piece of folly and nonsense, as you will see at once; for it can never +be enforced. No one of any sense will regard it; but just at present it +has the effect, you see, of making it out of the question for me to +cross the frontier." + +"True," said Toussaint, in a voice which made Papalier look in his face, +which was working with some strong emotion. He turned away from the +light, and desired Therese to follow him. He would commit her to the +charge of one of the suttlers' wives for the night. + +Having put on the table such fruit, bread, and wine as remained from his +own meal (Papalier forbidding further preparation, for fear of exciting +observation without), Toussaint went out with Therese, committed her to +safe hands, and then entered the tent next his own, inhabited by his +sons, and gave them his accustomed blessing. On his return, he found +that Papalier had retired. + +Toussaint was glad to be alone. Never had he more needed solitude; for +rarely, if ever, in the course of his life, had his calm soul been so +disturbed. During the last words spoken by Papalier, a conviction had +flashed across him, more vivid and more tremendous than any lightning +which the skies of December had sent forth to startle the bodily eye; +and amidst the storm which those words had roused within him, that +conviction continued to glare forth at intervals, refusing to be +quenched. It was this--that if it were indeed true that the +revolutionary government of France had decreed to the negroes the +freedom and rights of citizenship, to tight against the revolutionary +government would be henceforth to fight against the freedom and rights +of his race. The consequences of such a conviction were overpowering to +his imagination. As one inference after another presented itself before +him--as a long array of humiliations and perplexities showed themselves +in the future--he felt as if his heart were bursting. For hour after +hour of that night he paced the floor of his tent; and if he rested his +limbs, so unused to tremble with fear or toil, it was while covering his +face with his hands, as if even the light of the lamp disturbed the +intensity of his meditation. A few hours may, at certain crises of the +human mind and lot, do the work of years; and this night carried on the +education of the noble soul, long repressed by slavery, to a point of +insight which multitudes do not reach in a lifetime. No doubt, the +preparation had been making through years of forbearance and meditation, +and through the latter mouths of enterprise and activity; but yet, the +change of views and purposes was so great as to make him feel, between +night and morning, as if he were another man. + +The lamp burned out, and there was no light but from the brilliant +flies, a few of which had found their way into the tent. Toussaint made +his repeater strike: it was three o'clock. As his mind grew calm under +the settlement of his purposes, he became aware of the thirst which his +agitation had excited. By the light of the flitting tapers, he poured +out water, refreshed himself with a deep draught, and then addressed +himself to his duty. He could rarely endure delay in acting on his +convictions. The present was a case in which delay was treachery; and +he would not lose an hour. He would call up Father Laxabon, and open +his mind to him, that he might be ready for action when the camp should +awake. + +As he drew aside the curtain of the tent, the air felt fresh to his +heated brow, and, with the calm starlight, seemed to breathe strength +and quietness into his soul. He stood for a moment listening to the +dash and gurgle of the river, as it ran past the camp--the voice of +waters, so loud to the listening ear, but so little heeded amidst the +hum of the busy hours of day. It now rose above the chirpings and +buzzings of reptiles and insects, and carried music to the ear and +spirit of him who had so often listened at Breda to the fall of water in +the night hours, with a mind unburdened and unperplexed with duties and +with cares. The sentinel stopped before the tent with a start which +made his arms ring at seeing the entrance open, and some one standing +there. + +"Watch that no one enters?" said Toussaint to him. "Send for me to +Father Laxabon's, if I am wanted." + +As he entered the tent of the priest--a tent so small as to contain only +one apartment--all seemed dark. Laxabon slept so soundly as not to +awake till Toussaint had found the tinder-box, and was striking a light. + +"In the name of Christ, who is there?" cried Laxabon. + +"I, Toussaint Breda; entreating your pardon, father." + +"Why are you here, my son? There is some misfortune, by your face. You +look wearied and anxious. What is it?" + +"No misfortune, father, and no crime. But my mind is anxious, and I +have ventured to break your rest. You will pardon me?" + +"You do right, my son. We are ready for service, in season and out of +season." + +While saying this, the priest had risen, and thrown on his morning-gown. +He now seated himself at the table, saying-- + +"Let us hear. What is this affair of haste?" + +"The cause of my haste is this--that I may probably not again have +conversation with you, father; and I desire to confess, and be absolved +by you once more." + +"Good. Some dangerous expedition--is it not so?" + +"No. The affair is personal altogether. Have you heard of any decree +of the French Convention by which the negroes--the slaves--of the colony +of Saint Domingo are freely accepted as fellow-citizens, and the colony +declared an integrant part of France?" + +"Surely I have. The General was speaking of it last night; and I +brought away a copy of the proclamation consequent upon it. Let me +see," said he, rising, and taking up the lamp, "where did I put that +proclamation?" + +"With your sacred books, perhaps, father; for it is a gospel to me and +my race." + +"Do you think it of so much importance?" asked Laxabon, returning to the +table with the newspaper containing the proclamation, officially given. +"The General does not seem to think much of it, nor does Jean Francais." + +"To a commander of our allies the affair may appear a trifle, father; +and such white planters as cannot refuse to hear the tidings may scoff +at them; but Jean Francais, a negro and a slave--is it possible that he +makes light of this?" + +"He does; but he has read it, and you have not. Read it, my son, and +without prejudice." + +Toussaint read it again and again. + +"Well!" said the priest, as Toussaint put down the paper, no longer +attempting to hide with it the streaming tears which covered his face. + +"Father," said he, commanding his voice completely, "is there not hope, +that if men, weakened and blinded by degradation, mistake their duty +when the time for duty comes, they will be forgiven?" + +"In what case, my son? Explain yourself." + +"If I, hitherto a slave, and wanting, therefore, the wisdom of a free +man, find myself engaged on the wrong side--fighting against the +providence of God--is there not hope that I may be forgiven on turning +to the right?" + +"How the wrong side, my son? Are you not fighting for your king, and +for the allies of France?" + +"I have been so pledged and so engaged; and I do not say that I was +wrong when I so engaged and so pledged myself. But if I had been wise +as a free man should be, I should have foreseen of late what has now +happened, and not have been found, when last night's sun went down (and +as to-morrow night's sun shall not find me), holding a command against +the highest interests of my race--now, at length, about to be redeemed." + +"You--Toussaint Breda--the loyal! If Heaven has put any of its grace +within you, it has shown itself in your loyalty; and do you speak of +deserting the forces raised in the name of your king, and acting upon +the decrees of his enemies? Explain to me, my son, how this can be. It +seems to me that I can scarcely be yet awake." + +"And to me, it seems, father, that never till now have I been awake. +Yet it was in no vain dream that I served my king. If he is now where +he can read the hearts of his servants, he knows that it was not for my +command, or for any other dignity and reward, that I came hither, and +have fought under the royal flag of France. It was from reverence and +duty to him, under God. He is now in heaven; we have no king; and my +loyalty is due elsewhere. I know not how it might have been if he had +still lived; for it seems to me now that God has established a higher +royalty among men than even that of an anointed sovereign over the +fortunes of many millions of men. I think now that the rule which the +free man has over his own soul, over time and eternity--subject only to +God's will--is a nobler authority than that of kings; but, however I +might have thought, our king no longer lives; and, by God's mercy, as it +seems to me now, while the hearts of the blacks feel orphaned and +desolate, an object is held forth to us for the adoration of our +loyalty--an object higher than throne and crown, and offered us by the +hand of the King of kings." + +"Do you mean freedom, my son? Remember that it is in the name of +freedom that the French rebels have committed the crimes which--which it +would consume the night to tell of, and which no one knows better, or +abhors more, than yourself." + +"It is true; but they struggled for this and that, and the other right +and privilege existing in societies of those who are fully admitted to +be men. In the struggle, crime has been victorious, and they have +killed their king. The object of my devotion will now be nothing that +has to be wrenched from an anointed ruler, nothing which can be gained +by violence--nothing but that which, being already granted, requires +only to be cherished, and may best be cherished in peace--the manhood of +my race. To this must I henceforth be loyal." + +"How can men be less slaves than the negroes of Saint Domingo of late? +No real change has taken place; and yet you, who wept that freedom as +rebellion, are now proposing to add your force to it." + +"And was it not rebellion? Some rose for the plunder of their masters-- +some from ambition--some from revenge--many to escape from a condition +they had not patience to endure. All this was corrupt; and the +corruption, though bred out of slavery, as the fever from the marshes, +grieved my soul as if I had not known the cause. But now, knowing the +cause, and others (knowing it also) having decreed that slavery is at an +end, and given the sanction of law and national sympathy to our +freedom--is not the case changed? Is it now a folly or a sin to desire +to realise and purify and elevate this freedom, that those who were +first slaves and then savages may at length become men--not in decrees +and proclamations only, but in their own souls? You do not answer, +father. Is it not so?" + +"Open yourself further, my son. Declare what you propose. I fear you +are perplexing yourself." + +"If I am deceived, father, I look for light from heaven through you." + +"I fear--I fear, my son! I do not find in you to-night the tone of +humility and reliance upon religion in which you found comfort the first +time you opened the conflicts of your heart to me. You remember that +night, my son?" + +"The first night of my freedom? Never shall I forget its agonies." + +"I rejoice to hear it. Those agonies were safer, more acceptable to +God, than the comforts of self-will." + +"My father, if my will ensnares me, lay open the snare--I say not for +the sake of my soul only--but for far, far more--for the sake of my +children, for the sake of my race, for the sake of the glory of God in +His dealings with men, bring me back if I stray." + +"Well. Explain--explain what you propose." + +"I cannot remain in an army opposed to what are now the legal rights of +the blacks." + +"You will give up your command?" + +"I shall." + +"And your boys--what will you do with them?" + +"Send them whence they came for the present. I shall dismiss them by +one road, while the resignation of my rank goes by another." + +"And you yourself by a third." + +"When I have declared myself to General Hermona." + +"Have you thoughts of taking your soldiers with you?" + +"No." + +"But what is right for you is right for them." + +"If they so decide for themselves. My power over them is great. They +would follow me with a word. I shall therefore avoid speaking that +word, as it would be a false first step in a career of freedom, to make +them enter upon it as slaves to my opinion and my will." + +"But you will at least address them, that they may understand the course +you pursue. The festival of this morning will afford an opportunity-- +after mass. Have you thought of this?--I do not say that I am advising +it, or sanctioning any part of your plan, but have you thought of this?" + +"I have, and dismissed the thought. The proclamation will speak for +itself. I act from no information which is not open to them all. They +can act, thank God, for themselves; and I will not seduce them into +subservience, or haste, or passion." + +"But you will be giving up everything. What can make you think that the +French at Cap, all in the interest of the planters, will receive you?" + +"I do not think it; and I shall not offer myself." + +"Then you will sink into nothing. You will no longer be an officer, nor +even a soldier. You will be a mere negro, where negroes are wholly +despised. After all that you have been, you will be nothing." + +"I shall be a true man." + +"You will sink to less than nothing. You will be worse than useless +before God and man. You will be held a traitor." + +"I shall; but it will be for the sake of a higher fidelity." + +There was a long pause, after which Laxabon said, in a tone half severe, +and half doubting-- + +"So, here ends your career! You will dig a piece of ground to grow +maize and plantains for your family; you will read history in your +piazza, and see your daughters dance in the shade, while your name will +never be mentioned but as that of a traitor. So here ends your career!" + +"From no one so often as you, father, have I heard that man's career +never ends." + +The priest made no reply. + +"How lately was it," pursued Toussaint, "that you encouraged my +children, when they, who fear neither the wild bull nor the tornado, +looked somewhat fearfully up to the eclipsed moon? Who was it but you +who told them, that though that blessed light seemed blotted out from +the sky, it was not so; but that behind the black shadow, God's hand was +still leading her on, through the heaven, still pouring radiance into +her lamp, not the less bright because it was hidden from men? A thick +shadow is about to pass upon my name; but is it not possible, father, +that God may still be feeding my soul with light--still guiding me +towards Himself? Will you not once more tell me, that man's career +never ends?" + +"In a certain sense--in a certain sense, that is true, my son. But our +career here is what God has put into our own hands: and it seems to me +that you are throwing away His gift and His favour. How will you answer +when He asks you, `What hast thou done with the rank and the power I put +into thy hand? How hast thou used them?' What can you then answer, but +`I flung them away, and made myself useless and a reproach.' You know +what a station you hold in this camp--how you are prized by the General +for the excellence of the military discipline you have introduced; and +by me, and all the wise and religious, for the sobriety of manners and +purity of morals of which you are an example in yourself, and which you +have cherished among your troops, so that your soldiers are the boast of +the whole alliance. You know this--that you unite the influence of the +priest with the power of the commander; and yet you are going to cast +off both, with all the duties which belong to them, and sink yourself in +infamy--and with yourself, the virtues you have advocated. How will you +answer this to God?" + +"Father, was there not One in whose path lay all the kingdoms of the +world and the glory of them, and who yet chose ignominy--to be despised +by the world, instead of to lead it? And was God severe with Him? +Forgive me, father; but have you not desired me to follow Him, though +far-off as the eastern moon from the setting sun?" + +"That was a case, my son, unique in the world. The Saviour had a lot of +His own. Common men have rulers appointed them whom they are to serve; +and, if in rank and honour, so much the greater the favour of God. You +entered this service with an upright mind and pure intent; and here, +therefore, can you most safely remain, instead of casting yourself down +from the pinnacle of the temple, which, you know, the Son of God refused +to do. Remember His words, `Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.' Be +not tempted yourself, by pride of heart, to compare your lot with that +of Christ, which was unique." + +"He devoted Himself for the whole race of man: He, and He alone. But it +seems to me that there may be periods of time when changes are appointed +to take place among men--among nations, and even among races; and that a +common man may then be called to devote himself for that nation, or for +that race. Father, I feel that the hour may be come for the negro race +to be redeemed; and that I, a common man, may so far devote myself as +not to stand in the way of their redemption. I feel that I must step +out from among those who have never admitted the negroes' claims to +manhood. If God should open to me a way to serve the blacks better, I +shall be found ready. Meantime, not for another day will I stand in the +light of their liberties. Father," he continued, with an eagerness +which grew as he spoke, "you know something of the souls of slaves. You +know how they are smothered in the lusts of the body, how they are +debased by the fear of man, how blind they are to the providence of God! +You know how oppression has put out the eyes of their souls, and +withered its sinews. If now, at length, a Saviour has once more for +them stretched out His healing hand, and bidden them see, and arise and +be strong, shall I resist the work? And you, father, will you not aid +it? I would not presume; but if I might say all--" + +"Say on, my son." + +"Having reproved and raised the souls of slaves, would it not henceforth +be a noble work for you to guide their souls as men? If you would come +among us as a soldier of Christ, who is bound to no side in earthly +quarrels--if you would come as to those who need you most, the lowest, +the poorest, the most endangered, what a work may lie between this hour +and your last! What may your last hour be, if, day by day, you have +trained our souls in the glorious liberty of the children of God! The +beginning must be lowly; but the kind heart of the Christian priest is +lowly: and you would humble yourself first to teach men thus,--`you were +wrong to steal'--`you were wrong to drink'--`you were wrong to take more +wives than one, and to strike your children in passion.' Thus humbly +must you begin; but among free men, how high may you not rise? Before +you die, you may have led them to rule their own spirits, and, from the +throne of that sovereignty, to look far into the depths of the heavens, +and over the history of the world; so that they may live in the light of +God's countenance, and praise Him almost like the angels--for, you know, +He has made us, even us, but a little lower than they." + +"This would be a noble work," said Laxabon, much moved: "and if God is +really about to free your race, He will appoint a worthy servant for the +office. My duty, however, lies here. I have here souls in charge, +without being troubled with doubts as to the intentions of God and of +men. As I told you, the General does not think so much as you do of +this event; nor even does Jean Francais. If you act rashly, you will +repent for ever having quitted the path of loyalty and duty. I warn you +to pause, and see what course events will take. I admonish you not +hastily to desert the path of loyally and duty." + +"If it had pleased God," said Toussaint, humbly, "to release me from the +ignorance of slavery when He gave me freedom, I might now be able to lay +open my heart as I desire to do; I might declare the reasons which +persuade me so strongly as I feel persuaded. But I am ignorant, and +unskilful in reasoning with one like you, father." + +"It is therefor that we are appointed to guide and help you, my son. +You now know my mind, and have received my admonition. Let us proceed +to confession; for the morning draws on towards the hour for mass." + +"Father, I cannot yield to your admonition. Reprove me as you will, I +cannot. There is a voice within me stronger than yours." + +"I fear so, my son; nor can I doubt what that voice is, nor whence it +comes. I will pray for you, that you may have strength to struggle with +the tempter." + +"Not so, father; rather pray that I may have strength to obey this new +voice of duty, alone as I am, discountenanced as I shall be." + +"Impossible, my son. I dare not so pray for one self-willed and +precipitate; nor, till you bring a humble and obedient mind, can I +receive your confession. There can be no absolution where there is +reservation. Consider, my dear son! I only desire you to pause." + +"Delay is treachery," said Toussaint. "This day the decree and +proclamation will be made known through the forces; and if I remain, +this night's sun sets on my condemnation. I shall not dare to pray, +clothed in my rank, this night." + +"Go now, my son. You see it is dawning. You have lost the present +opportunity; and you must now leave me to my duties. When you can +return hither to yours, you will be welcome." + +Toussaint paid him his wonted reverence, and left the tent. + +Arrived in his own, he threw himself on the couch like a heart-broken +man. + +"No help! no guidance!" thought he. "I am desolate and alone. I never +thought to have been left without a guide from God. He leaves me with +my sins upon my soul, unconfessed, unabsolved; and, thus burdened and +rebuked, I must enter upon the course which I dare not refuse. But this +voice within me which bids me go--whence and what is it? Whence is it +but from God? And how can I therefore say that I am alone? There is no +man that I can rely on--not even one of Christ's anointed priests; but +is there not He who redeemed men? and will He reject me if, in my +obedience, I come to Him? I will try--I will dare. I am alone; and He +will hear and help me." + +Without priest, without voice, without form of words, he confessed and +prayed, and no longer felt that he was alone. He arose, clear in mind +and strong in heart: wrote and sealed up his resignation of his +commission, stepped into the next tent to rouse the three boys, desiring +them to dress for early mass, and prepare for their return to their +homes immediately afterwards. He then entered his own inner apartment, +where Papalier was sleeping so soundly that it was probable the early +movements of saint's-day festivities in the camp would not awaken him. +As he could not show himself abroad till the General's protection was +secured, his host let him sleep on; opening and shutting his clothes' +chest, and going through the whole preparation for appearance on the +parade in full uniform, without disturbing his wearied guest, who hardly +moved even at the roll of the drum, and the stir of morning in the camp. + + + +CHAPTER SEVEN. + +THE ACT. + +Papalier was probably the only person in the valley who did not attend +mass on this saint's-day morning. The Spanish general was early seen, +surrounded by his staff, moving towards the rising ground, outside the +camp, on which stood the church, erected for the use of the troops when +the encampment was formed. The soldiers, both Spanish and negro, had +some time before filed out of their tents, and been formed for their +short march; and they now came up in order, the whites approaching on +the right, and the blacks on the left, till their forces joined before +the church. The sun had not yet shone down into the valley, and the dew +lay on the grass, and dropped like rain from the broad eaves of the +church-roof--from the points of the palm-leaves with which it was +thatched. + +This church was little more than a covered enclosure. It was well +shaded from the heat of the sun by its broad and low roof; but, between +the corner posts, the sides could hardly be said to be filled in by the +bamboos which stood like slender columns at intervals of several inches, +so that all that passed within could be seen from without, except that +the vestry and the part behind the altar had their walls interwoven with +withes, so as to be impervious to the eye. The ground was strewn thick +with moss,--cushioned throughout for the knees of the worshippers. The +seats were rude wooden benches, except the chair, covered with damask, +which was reserved for the Marquis d'Hermona. + +Here the General took his place, his staff ranging themselves on the +benches behind. Jean Francais entered after him, and seated himself on +the opposite range of benches. Next followed Toussaint Breda, alone, +having left his sons outside with the soldiers. Some few more advanced +towards the altar; it being understood that those who did so wished to +communicate. An interval of a few empty benches was then left, and the +lower end of the church was thronged by such of the soldiery as could +find room; the rest closing in round the building, so as to hear the +voice of the priest, and join in the service. + +There was a gay air about the assemblage, scarcely subdued by the place, +and the occasion which brought them to it. Almost every man carried a +stem of the white amaryllis, plucked from among the high grass, with +which it grew thickly intermixed all over the valley; and beautiful to +the eye were the snowy, drooping blossoms, contrasted with the rich dark +green of their leaves. Some few brought twigs of the orange and the +lime; and the sweet odour of the blossoms pervaded the place like a holy +incense, as the first stirring airs of morning breathed around and +through the building. There were smiles on almost every face; and a hum +of low but joyous greetings was heard without, till the loud voice of +the priest, reciting the Creed, hushed every other. The only +countenance of great seriousness present was that of Toussaint, and his +bore an expression of solemnity, if not of melancholy, which struck +every one who looked upon him--and he always was looked upon by every +one. His personal qualities had strongly attracted the attention of the +Spanish general. Jean Francais watched his every movement with the +mingled triumph and jealousy of a superior in rank, but a rival in fame; +and by the negro troops he was so beloved, that nothing but the strict +discipline which he enforced could have prevented their following him in +crowds wherever he went. Whenever he smiled, as he passed along, in +conversation, they laughed without inquiring why; and now, this morning, +on observing the gravity of his countenance, they glanced from one to +another, as if to inquire the cause. + +The priest, having communicated, at length descended from before the +altar, to administer the water to such as desired to receive it. Among +these, Toussaint bent his head lowest--so low, that the first slanting +sunbeam that entered beneath the thatch seemed to rest upon his head, +while every other head remained in the shadow of the roof. In after +days, the negroes then present recalled this appearance. Jean Francais, +observing that General Hermona was making some remark about Toussaint to +the officers about him, endeavoured to assume an expression of deep +devotion also; but in vain. No one thought of saying of him what the +General was at that moment saying of his brother in arms--"God could not +visit a soul more pure." + +When the blessing had been given, and the few concluding verses of +Scripture read, the General was the first to leave his place. It seemed +as if he and Toussaint moved towards one another by the same impulse, +for they met in the aisle between the benches. + +"I have a few words of business to speak with you, General--a work of +justice to ask you to perform without delay," said Toussaint. + +"Good!" said the General. "In justice there should be no delay. I will +therefore breakfast with you in your tent. Shall we proceed?" + +He put his arm within that of Toussaint, who, however, gently withdrew +his, and stepped back with a profound bow of respect. General Hermona +looked as if he scarcely knew whether to take this as an act of +humility, or to be offended; but he smiled on Toussaint's saying-- + +"It is not without reasons that I decline honour in this place this +morning--reasons which I will explain. Shall I conduct you to my tent? +And these gentlemen of your staff?" + +"As we have business, my friend, I will come alone. I shall be sorry if +there is any quarrel between us, Toussaint. If you have to ask justice +of me, I declare to you I know not the cause." + +"It is not for myself, General, that I ask justice. I have ever +received from you more than justice." + +"You have attached your men to yourself with singular skill," said the +General, on their way down the slope from the church, as he closely +observed the countenances of the black soldiers, which brightened, as if +touched by the sunlight, on the approach of their commander. "Their +attachment to you is singular. I no longer wonder at your achievements +in the field." + +"It is by no skill of mine," replied Toussaint; "it is by the power of +past tyranny. The hearts of negroes are made to love. Hitherto, all +love in which the mind could share has been bestowed upon those who +degraded and despised them. In me they see one whom, while obeying, +they may love as a brother." + +"The same might be said of Jean Francais, as far as your reasons go; but +Jean Francais is not beloved like you. He looks gayer than you, my +friend, notwithstanding. He is happy in his new rank, probably. You +have heard that he is ennobled by the court of Spain?" + +"I had not heard it. It will please him." + +"It evidently does. He is made a noble; and his military rank is now +that of lieutenant-General. Your turn will come next, my friend; and if +promotion went strictly according to personal merit, no one would have +been advanced sooner than you." + +"I do not desire promotion, and--" + +"Ah! there your stoical philosophy comes in. But I will show you +another way of applying it. Rank brings cares; so that one who is not a +stoic may have an excuse for shrinking from it; but a stoic despises +cares. Ha! we have some young soldiers here," he said, as Moyse and his +cousins stood beside the way, to make their obeisance; "and very perfect +soldiers they look, young as they are. They seem born for military +service." + +"They were born slaves, my lord; but they have now the loyal hearts of +freemen within them, amidst the ignorance and follies of their youth." + +"They are--" + +"My nephew and my two sons, my lord." + +"And why mounted at this hour?" + +"They are going to their homes, by my direction." + +"If it were not that you have business with me, which I suppose you +desire them not to overhear--" + +"It is as you say, General." + +"If it had not been so, I would have requested that they might be at our +table this morning. As it is, I will not delay their journey." + +And the General touched his hat to the lads, with a graciousness which +made them bend low their uncovered heads, and report marvels at home of +the deportment of the Marquis d'Hermona. Seeing how their father was +occupied, they were satisfied with a grasp of his hand as he passed, +received from him a letter for their mother, and waited only till he and +his guest had disappeared within the tent, to gallop off. They wondered +at being made the bearers of a letter, as they knew that his horse was +ordered to be ready beside his tent immediately after breakfast, and had +not a doubt of his arriving at the shore almost as soon as themselves. + +Papalier was lounging on the couch beside the table where breakfast was +spread, when General Hermona and his host offered. He started up, +casting a look of doubt upon Toussaint. + +"Fear nothing, Monsieur Papalier," said Toussaint; "General Hermona has +engaged to listen to my plea for justice. My lord, Monsieur Papalier +was amicably received by your lordship on crossing the frontier, and, on +the strength of your welcome, has remained on the island till too late +to escape, without your especial protection, a fate he dreads." + +"You mean being delivered up as a republican?" + +"Into the hands of my own negroes, my lord," said Papalier, bitterly. +"That is the fate secretly designed for any unfortunate planter who may +yet have survived the recent troubles over the frontier." + +"But how can I protect you? The arrangement is none of mine: I cannot +interfere with it." + +"Only by forgetting in this single instance the point of time at which +we have arrived, and furnishing me with a pass which shall enable me to +sail for Europe, as I acknowledge I ought to have done long ago." + +"So this is the act of justice you asked from me, Toussaint. Why did +you not say favour? I shall do it with much more pleasure as a slight +favour to one whom I strongly regard. You shall have your safe-conduct, +Monsieur Papalier. In the meantime--" + +And he looked towards the steaming chocolate and the piles of fruit on +the table, as if his appetite were growing urgent. + +"One word more, my lord, before offering you my welcome to my table," +said Toussaint. "I beseech you to consider the granting this pass as an +act of justice, or of anything rather than favour to me. Yesterday, I +would have accepted a hundred favours from you: to-day, with equal +respect, I must refuse even one. I pledge myself to tell you why before +you rise from table, to which I now invite you." + +"I do not understand all this, Toussaint." + +"I have pledged myself to explain." + +"And you say there is no personal feeling--no offence between us?" + +"If any, my lord, I alone am the offender. Will you be pleased to--" + +"Oh, yes, I will breakfast; and was never more ready. Monsieur +Papalier, our morning mass has kept you waiting, I fear." + +Papalier seated himself, but was near starting up again when he saw his +negro host preparing to take his place between his two quests, Papalier +had never yet sat at table with a negro, and his impulse was to resent +the necessity; but a stern look from the General warned him to submit +quietly to the usages of the new state of society which he had remained +to witness; and he sat through the meal, joining occasionally in the +conversation, which, for his sake, was kept clear of subjects which +might annoy him. + +As soon as the servants, after producing pen, ink, and paper, had +withdrawn, the General wrote a safe-conduct, and delivered it to +Monsieur Papalier, with an intimation that an attendant should be ready +to guide him to the nearest port, at his earliest convenience. Papalier +understood this as it was meant--as a hint that there must be no delay. +He declared, therefore, his wish to depart, as soon as the heat of the +day should decline. + +"And now, my lord--," said Toussaint, "Yes, now for the explanation of +this fancy of not receiving kindness from your best friends. Let us +hear." + +"I have this morning, my lord, despatched letters to Don Joachim Garcia, +at Saint Domingo--" + +"You are in communication with the Colonial Government; and not through +me! What can this mean?" + +"And here, my lord, are exact copies of my letters, which I request the +favour of you to read, and, if I may be permitted to say so, without +haste or prejudice--though, in this case, it is much to ask." + +Toussaint disappeared in the inner apartment; but not before he saw a +smile on Papalier's face--a smile which told of amusement at the idea of +a negro sending dispatches of any importance to the head of the +government of the Spanish colony. + +The General did not seem to feel any of the same amusement. His +countenance was perplexed and anxious. He certainly obeyed Toussaint's +wishes as to not being in haste: for he read the papers (which were few +and short) again and again. He had not laid them down when Toussaint +re-appeared from within--no longer glittering in his uniform and +polished arms, but dressed in his old plantation clothes, and with his +woollen cap in his hand. Both his guests first gazed at him, and then +started from their seats. + +Toussaint merely passed through the tent, bowing low to the General, and +bidding him farewell. A confused noise outside, followed by a shout, +roused Hermona from his astonishment. + +"He is addressing the troops!" he cried, drawing his sword, and rushing +forth. + +Toussaint was not addressing the troops. He was merely informing +Jacques, whom he had requested to lie in waiting there, beside his +horse, that he was no longer a commander--no longer in the forces; and +that the recent proclamation, by showing him that the cause of negro +freedom was now one with that of the present government of France, was +the reason of his retirement from the Spanish territory. He explained +himself thus far, in order that he might not be considered a traitor to +the lost cause of royalty in France; but, rather, loyal to that of his +colour, from the first day of its becoming a cause. + +Numbers became aware that something unusual was going forward, and were +thronging to the spot, when the General rushed forth, sword in hand, +shouting aloud-- + +"The traitor! Seize the traitor! Soldiers! seize the traitor!" + +Toussaint turned in an instant, and sprang upon his horse. Not a negro +would lay hands on him; but they cast upon him, in token of honour, the +blossoms of the amaryllis and the orange that they carried. The Spanish +soldiers, however, endeavoured to close round him and hem him in, as the +General's voice was still heard-- + +"Seize him! Bring him in, dead or alive!" + +Toussaint, however, was a perfect horseman; and his favourite horse +served him well in this crisis. It burst through, or bounded over, all +opposition, and, amidst a shower of white blossoms which strewed the +way, instantly carried him beyond the camp. Well-mounted soldiers, and +many of them, were behind, however; and it was a hard race between the +fugitive and his pursuers, as it was witnessed from the camp. Along the +river bank, and over the bridge, the danger of Toussaint appeared +extreme; and the negroes, watching the countenance of Jacques, preserved +a dead silence when all the horsemen had disappeared in the woods which +clothed the steep. Then all eyes were turned towards the summit of that +ridge, where the road crossed a space clear of trees; and there, in an +incredibly short time, appeared the solitary horseman, who, unencumbered +with heavy arms, and lightly clothed, had greatly the advantage of the +soldiers in mounting the ascent. He was still followed; but he was just +disappearing over the ridge, when the foremost soldier issued from the +wood behind him. + +"He is safe! he is safe!" was murmured through the throng; and the words +reached the ears of the General in a tone which convinced him that the +attachment of the black troops to Toussaint Breda was as strong as he +himself had that morning declared it to be. + +"Now you see, General," said Papalier, turning into the tent, from which +he too had come forth in the excitement of the scene--"you see what you +have to expect from these negroes." + +"I see what I have to expect from you," replied the General, with +severity. "It is enough to witness how you speak of a man to whom you +owe your life this very day--and not for the first time." + +"Nay, General, I have called him no names--not even `traitor.'" + +"I have not owed him my life, Monsieur Papalier; and you are not the +commander of these forces. It is my duty to prevent the defection of +the negro troops; and I therefore used the language of the government I +serve in proclaiming him a traitor. Had it been in mere speculation +between him and myself that those papers had come in question, God knows +I should have called him something very different." + +"There is something in the man that infatuates--that blinds one's +judgment, certainly," said Papalier. "His master, Bayou, spoiled him +with letting him educate himself to an absurd extent. I always told +Bayou so; and there is no saying now what the consequences may be. It +is my opinion that we have not heard the last of him yet." + +"Probably," said the General, gathering up his papers as his aide +entered, and leaving the tent in conversation with him, almost without a +farewell notice of Papalier. + +The negro troops were busy to a man, in learning from Jacques, and +repeating to one another, the particulars of what was in the +proclamation, and the reasons of Toussaint's departure. General Hermona +found that the two remaining black leaders, Jean Francais and Biasson, +were not infected by Toussaint's convictions; that, on the contrary, +they were far from sorry that he was thus gone, leaving them to the full +enjoyment of Spanish grace. They addressed their soldiers in favour of +loyalty, and in denunciation of treason, and treated the proclamation as +slightly as Don Joachim Garcia could possibly have wished. They met +with little response, however; and every one felt, amidst the show and +parade and festivity of the day, a restlessness and uncertainty which he +perceived existed no less in his neighbour than in himself. No one's +mind was in the business or enjoyment of the festival; and no one could +be greatly surprised at anything that might take place, though the men +were sufficiently orderly in the discharge of their duty to render any +interference with them unwarrantable, and any precautions against their +defection impossible. The great hope lay in the influence of the two +leaders who remained, as the great fear was of that of the one who was +gone. + +The Spanish force was small, constituting only about one-fourth of the +whole; and of these, the best mounted had not returned from the pursuit +of Toussaint;--not because they could follow him far in the enemy's +country, but because it required some skill and caution to get back in +broad day, after having roused expectation all along the road. + +While the leaders were anxiously calculating probabilities, and +reckoning forces, Jacques was satisfying himself that the preponderance +of numbers was greatly on the side of his absent friend. His hatred of +the whites, which had never intermitted, was wrought up to strong +passion this day by the treatment the proclamation and his friend had +received. He exulted in the thought of being able to humble the +Spaniards by withdrawing the force which enabled them to hold their +posts, and by making him whom they called a traitor more powerful in the +cause of the blacks than they could henceforth be in that of royalist +France. Fired with these thoughts, he was hastily passing the tent of +Toussaint, which he had supposed deserted, when he heard from within, +speaking in anger and fear, a voice which he well knew, and which had +power over him. He had strong reasons for remembering the first time he +had seen Therese--on the night of the escape across the frontier. She +was strongly associated with his feelings towards the class to which her +owner belonged; and he knew that she, beautiful, lonely, and wretched, +shared those feelings. If he had not known this from words dropped by +her during the events of this morning, he would have learned it now; for +she was declaring her thoughts to her master, loudly enough for any one +who passed by to overhear. + +Jacques entered the tent, and there stood Therese, declaring that she +would leave her master, and never see him more, but prevented from +escaping by Papalier having intercepted her passage to the entrance. +Her eyes glowed with delight on the appearance of Jacques, to whom she +immediately addressed herself. + +"I will not go with him--I will not go with him to Paris, to see his +young ladies. He shall not take care of me. I will take care of +myself. I will drown myself sooner than go with him. I do not care +what becomes of me, but I will not go." + +"Yes, you will care what becomes of you, Therese, because your own +people care," said Jacques. "I will protect you. If you will be my +wife, no white shall molest you again." + +"Be your wife!" + +"Yes. I love the blacks; and none so much as those whom the whites have +oppressed--no one so much as you. If you will be my wife, we will--" + +Here, remembering the presence of a white, Jacques explained to Therese +in the negro language (which she understood, though she always spoke +French), the new hopes which had arisen for the blacks, and his own +intention of following Toussaint, to make him a chief. He concluded in +good French, smiling maliciously at Papalier as he spoke-- + +"You will come with me now to the priest, and be my wife." + +"I will," replied Therese, calmly. + +"Go," said Papalier. "You have my leave. I am thus honourably released +from the care of you till times shall change. I am glad that you will +not remain unprotected, at least." + +"Unprotected!" exclaimed Therese, as she threw on the Spanish mantle +which she was now accustomed to wear abroad. "Unprotected! And what +has your protection been?" + +"Very kind, my dear, I am sure. I have spent on your education money +which I should be very glad of now. When people flatter you, Therese +(as they will do; for there is not a negress in all the island to +compare with you),--remember who made you a lady. You will promise me +that much, Therese, at parting?" + +"Remember who made me a lady!--I have forgotten too long who made me a +woman," said Therese, devoutly upraising her eyes. "In serving Him and +loving my husband, I will strive to forget you." + +"All alike!" muttered Papalier, as the pair went out. "This is what one +may expect from negroes, as the General will leant when he has had +enough to do with them. They are all alike." + +This great event in the life of Jacques Dessalines did not delay his +proceedings for more than half-an-hour. Noon was but just past, when he +led forth his wife from the presence of the priest, mounted her on his +own horse before his tent, and sent her forward under the escort of his +personal servant, promising to overtake her almost as soon as she should +have crossed the river. When she was gone, he sent the word through the +negro soldiery, who gathered round him almost to a man, and with the +quietness which became their superior force. Jean Francais and Biasson +were left with scarcely twenty followers each; and those few would do +nothing. The whites felt themselves powerless amidst the noonday heats, +and opposed to threefold numbers: and their officers found that nothing +was to be done but to allow them to look on quietly, while Jacques led +away his little army, with loud music and a streaming white flag. A few +horsemen led the van, and closed in the rear. The rest marched, as if +on a holiday trip, now singing to the music of the band, and now making +the hills ring again with the name of Toussaint Breda. + +As General Hermona, entirely indisposed for his siesta, watched the +march through his glass from the entrance of his tent, while the notes +of the wind-instruments swelled and died away in the still air, one of +his aides was overheard by him to say to another-- + +"The General has probably changed his opinion since he said to you this +morning, of Toussaint Breda, that God could not visit a soul more pure. +We have all had to change our minds rather more rapidly than suits such +a warm climate." + +"You may have changed your opinions since the sun rose, gentlemen," said +Hermona; "but I am not sure that I have." + +"How! Is it possible? We do not understand you, my lord." + +"Do you suppose that you understand him? Have we been of a degraded +race, slaves, and suddenly offered restoration to full manhood and +citizenship? How otherwise can we understand this man? I do not +profess to do so." + +"You think well of him, my lord?" + +"I am so disposed. Time, however, will show. He has gone away +magnanimously enough, alone, and believing, I am confident, from what +Father Laxabon tells me, that his career is closed; but I rather think +we shall hear more of him." + +"How these people revel in music!" observed one of the staff. "How they +are pouring it forth now!" + +"And not without reason, surely," said Hermona. "It is their exodus +that we are watching." + + + +CHAPTER EIGHT. + +BREDA AGAIN. + +The French proclamation was efficiently published along the line of +march of the blacks. They shouted and sang the tidings of their +freedom, joining with them the name of Toussaint Breda. These tidings +of freedom rang through the ravines, and echoed up the sides of the +hills, and through the depths of the forests, startling the wild birds +on the mountain-ponds and the deer among the high ferns; and bringing +down from their fastnesses a multitude of men who had fled thither from +the vengeance of the whites and mulattoes, and to escape sharing in the +violence of the negro force which Jean Francais had left behind him, to +pursue uncontrolled their course of plunder and butchery. Glad, to +such, were the tidings of freedom, with order, and under the command of +one whose name was never mentioned without respect, if not enthusiasm. +The negro who did not know that there was any more world on the other +side the Cibao peaks, had yet learned to be proud of the learning of +Toussaint. The slave who conceived of God as dwelling in the innermost +of the Mornes, and coming forth to govern His subjects with the fire of +the lightning and the scythe of the hurricane, was yet able to revere +the piety of Toussaint. The black bandit who had dipped his hands in +the blood of his master, and feasted his ear with the groans of the +innocent babes who had sat upon his knee, yet felt that there was +something impressive in the simple habit of forgiveness, the vigilant +spirit of mercy which distinguished Toussaint Breda from all his +brethren in arms--from all the leading men of his colour, except his +friend Henri Christophe. At the name of Toussaint Breda, then, these +flocked down into the road by hundreds, till they swelled the numbers of +the march to thousands. The Spanish soldiers, returning to their camp +by such by-ways as they could find, heard again and again from a +distance the cries of welcome and of triumph; and one or two of them +chanced to witness from a high point of rock, or through a thick screen +of foliage, the joyous progress of the little army, hastening on to find +their chief. These involuntary spies gathered at every point of +observation news which would gall the very soul of Jean Francais, if +they should get back to the camp to tell it. + +Jacques knew where to seek his friend, and led the way, on descending +from the hills, straight across the plain to the Breda estate, where +Toussaint meant to await his family. How unlike was this plantation to +what it was when these negroes had seen it last! The cane-fields, +heretofore so trim and orderly, with the tall canes springing from the +clean black soil, were now a jungle. The old plants had run up till +they had leaned over with their own weight, and fallen upon one another. +Their suckers had sprung up in myriads, so that the racoon which +burrowed among them could scarcely make its way in and out. The grass +on the little enclosed lawns grew so rank, that the cattle, now wild, +were almost hidden as they lay down in it; and so uneven and unsightly +were the patches of growth, that the blossoming shrubs with which it had +been sprinkled for ornament, now looked forlorn and out of place, +flowering amidst the desolation. The slave-quarter was scarcely +distinguishable from the wood behind it, so nearly was it overgrown with +weeds. A young foal was browsing on the thatch, and a crowd of +glittering lizards darted out and away on the approach of human feet. + +Jacques did not stay at the slave-quarter; but he desired his company to +remain there and in the neighbouring field, while he went with Therese +to bring out their chief to them. They went up to the house; but in no +one of its deserted chambers did they find Toussaint. + +"Perhaps he is in his own cottage," said Therese. + +"Is it possible," replied Jacques, "that, with this fine house all to +himself, he should take up with that old hut?" + +"Let us see," said Therese; "for he is certainly not here." + +When they readied Toussaint's cottage, it was no easy matter to know how +to effect an entrance. Enormous gourds had spread their network over +the ground, like traps for the feet of trespassers. The front of the +piazza was completely overgrown with the creepers which had been brought +there only to cover the posts, and hang their blossoms from the eaves. +They had now spread and tangled themselves, till they made the house +look like a thicket. In one place, however, between two of the posts, +they had been torn down, and the evening wind was tossing the loose +coils about. Jacques entered the gap, and immediately looked out again, +smiling, and beckoning Therese to come and see. There, in the piazza, +they found Toussaint, stretched asleep upon the bench--so soundly +asleep, for once, that the whispers of his friends did not alter, for a +moment, his heavy breathing. + +"How tired he must be!" said Jacques. "At other times I have known his +sleep so light, that he was broad awake as quick as a lizard, if a +beetle did but sail over his head." + +"He may well be tired," said Therese. "You know how weary he looked at +mass this morning. I believe he had no rest last night; and now this +march to-day--" + +"Well! He must rouse up now, however; for his business will not wait." +And he called him by his name. + +"Henri!" cried Toussaint, starting up. + +"No, not Henri. I am Jacques. You are not awake yet, and the place is +dark. I am your friend Jacques, five inches shorter than Henri. You +see?" + +"You here, Jacques! and Therese! Surely I am not awake yet." + +"Yes, you are, now you know Therese--whom you will henceforth look upon +as my wife. We are both free of the whites now, for ever." + +"Is it possible?" + +"It is true; and we will fell you all presently. But first explain why +you called me Henri as you woke. If we could see Henri--Why did you +name Henri--" + +"Because he was the next person I expected to see. I met one on the way +who knew where he was, and took a message to him." + +"If we could learn from Henri--" said Jacques. + +"Here is Henri," said the calm, kindly, well-known voice of the powerful +Christophe, who now showed himself outside. The other went out to him, +and greeted him heartily. + +"What news, Henri?" asked Toussaint. "How are affairs at Cap? What is +doing about the proclamation there?" + +"Affairs are going badly at Cap. The mulattoes will no more bear our +proclamation than the whites would bear theirs. They have shut up +General Laveaux in prison; and the French, without their military +leader, do not know what to do next. The commissary has no authority, +and talks of embarking for France; and the troops are cursing the +negroes, for whose sake, they say, their General is imprisoned, and will +soon die of the heats." + +"We must deliver General Laveaux," said Toussaint. "Our work already +lies straight before us. We must raise a force. Henri, can you bring +soldiers?" + +"Ay, Henri," said Jacques, "what force can you bring to join ours? +General Toussaint Breda has six thousand here at hand, half of whom are +disciplined soldiers, well armed. The rest are partially armed, and +have strong hearts and ready hands." + +Toussaint turned round, as if to know what Jacques could mean. + +"General," said Jacques, "the army I speak of is there, among those +fields, burning to greet you their commander; but in the meantime, I +believe, supping heartily on whatever they can find in your wilderness +here, in the shape of maize, pumpkins, and plantains--and what else, you +know better than? That is right, Therese; rest yourself in the piazza, +and I will bring you some supper, too." + +"Six thousand, did you say, Jacques?" said Henri. "I can rally two +thousand this night, and more will join on the way." + +"We must free Laveaux before sunrise," said Toussaint. "Will our troops +be fit for a march after this supper of theirs, Jacques--after supper +and three hours' rest?" + +"They are fit at this moment to march over the island--to swim from +Saint Domingo to France, if you will only lead them," replied Jacques. +"Go to them, and they will do what you will." + +"So be it!" said Toussaint, his bosom for a moment heaving with the +thought that his career, even as viewed by Father Laxabon, was not +ended. "Henri, what is the state of the plain? Is the road open?" + +"Far from it. The mulattoes are suspicious, and on the watch against +some danger--I believe they are not clear what. I avoided some of their +scouts; and the long way they made me go round was the reason of my +being late." + +Observing that Toussaint looked thoughtful, he proceeded: "I imagine +there is no force in the plain that could resist your numbers, if you +are sure of your troops. The road is open, if they choose that it be +so." + +"I am sure of only half of them; and then there is the town. It seems +to me, Jacques, that I may more depend upon my troops, in their present +mood, for a merry night march, though it be a long one, than for a +skirmish through the plain, though it be a short one." + +Jacques assented. It was agreed that the little army should proceed by +the mountain tracts, round by Plaisance and Gros Morne, so as to arrive +by the Haut-du-Cap, in which direction it was not likely that a foe +should be looked for. Thus they could pour into the town from the +western heights before sunrise, while the scouts of the mulatto rebels +were looking for them across the eastern plain. + +This settled, Jacques went down among his forces, to tell them that +their general was engaged in a council of war--Henri Christophe having +joined from Cap, with a promise of troops, and with intelligence which +would open the way to victory and freedom. The general allowed them ten +minutes more for refreshment, and to form themselves into order; and he +would then present himself to them. Shouting was forbidden, lest any +foe should be within hearing; but a murmur of delight and mutual +congratulation ran through the ranks, which were beginning to form while +the leader of their march was yet speaking. He retreated, carrying with +him the best arms he could select for the use of his general. + +While he was gone, Toussaint stepped back into the piazza, where Therese +sat quietly watching the birds flitting in and out among the foliage and +flowers. + +"Therese," said he, "what will you do this night and to-morrow? Who +will take care of you?" + +"I know not--I care not," said she. "There are no whites here; and I am +well where they are not. Will you not let me stay here?" + +"Did Jacques say, and say truly, that you are his wife?" + +"He said so, and truly. I have been wretched, for long--" + +"And sinful. Wretchedness and sin go together." + +"And I was sinful; but no one told me so. I was ignorant, and weak, and +a slave. Now I am a woman and a wife. No more whites, no more sin, no +more misery! Will you not let me stay here?" + +"I will: and here you will presently be safe, and well cared for, I +hope. My wife and my children are coming home--coming, probably in a +few hours. They will make this a home to you till Jacques can give you +one of your own. You shall be guarded here till my Margot arrives. +Shall it be so?" + +"Shall it? Oh, thank God! Jacques," she cried, as she heard her +husband's step approaching. "Oh, Jacques! I am happy. Toussaint Breda +is kind--he has forgiven me--he welcomes me--his wife will--" + +Tears drowned her voice. Toussaint said gently-- + +"It is not for me to forgive, Therese, whom you have never offended. +God has forgiven, I trust, your young years of sin. You will atone +(will you not?) by the purity of your life--by watching over others, +lest they suffer as you have done. You will guard the minds of my young +daughters: will you not? You will thank God through my Genifrede, my +Aimee?" + +"I will, I will," she eagerly cried, lifting up her face, bright through +her tears. "Indeed my heart will be pure--longs to be pure." + +"I know it, Therese," said Toussaint. "I have always believed it, and I +now know it." + +He turned to Jacques and said-- + +"You declare yourself to be under my command?" + +"Yes, Toussaint; you are my general." + +"Well, then, I appoint you to the duty of remaining here, with a troop, +to guard my family (who are coming in a few hours), and this estate. I +have some hopes of doing what I want at Cap without striking a blow; and +you will be better here. You hate the whites too much to like my +warfare. Farewell, Therese! Jacques, follow me, to receive your +troop." + + + +CHAPTER NINE. + +THE MAN. + +The town of Cap Francais was next morning in a hurry, which attracted +the attention of General Laveaux in his prison, and the French +commissary, Polverel, on board the vessel in the roads, in which he had +taken refuge from the mulattoes, and where he held himself in readiness +to set sail for France, in case of any grave disaster befalling the +General or the troops. From his cell, Laveaux heard in the streets the +tramp of horses and of human feet; and from the deck of the _Orphee_, +Polverel watched through his glass the bustle on the wharves, and the +putting off of more than one boat, which prepared him to receive news. + +The news came. The report was universal in the town that Toussaint +Breda had gone over from the allies to the side of republican France; +and that this step had been followed by a large defection from the +allied forces. Messengers had arrived, one after another, with +dispatches which had been intercepted by the mulattoes. These who +brought them, however, had given out that some posts had been +surrendered, without a summons, into the hands of the French. This was +certainly the case with Marmalade and Plaisance; and others were +confidently spoken of. + +"Offered to our hands just when our hands are tied, and we cannot take +them!" said Polverel. "If our fresh regiments would only arrive to-day, +and help us to wrench the prison keys from the hands of those devils of +mulattoes, and let out Laveaux, the colony would be ours before night." + +As he spoke, he swept the horizon to the north and east with his glass; +but no welcome sail was visible. + +"Now look the other way," said the commander of the vessel; "if there is +no help at sea, try if there be none on land. I have been watching that +mountain-side for some time; and, if I am not much mistaken, there is an +army of dusky fellows there." + +"Dusky! mulattoes! then we are lost!" cried Polverel. "If the mulattoes +from the south have come up in any numbers--" + +"They are black as the night that is just gone," said the commander, +still keeping his eye fixed on the western heights above the town. +"See, the sun strikes them now. They are blacks. The negroes under +Toussaint himself, very probably. I shall not have the pleasure of +carrying you to France just yet, Monsieur Polverel." + +Notwithstanding the display of black forces on the Haut-du-Cap, the +bustle of the town seemed to be in the opposite direction. A few shots +were fired in the south-east quarter, and some smoke arose from thence. +This was soon explained by the news that Henri Christophe had approached +the town from the plain, with four or five thousand men, and was forcing +an entrance that way. There was little conflict. Toussaint poured down +his force through the barracks, where the French soldiers gave him a +hearty welcome, and along the avenues of Government-House, and the +neighbouring public offices, in which quarter the mulattoes had little +interest. Within an hour, the mulattoes had all slunk back into their +homes, telling their families that they could have dealt with the French +alone, but that they could not withstand an army of twenty thousand men +(only doubling the real number), which had dropped from the clouds, for +aught they knew. The few dead bodies were removed, the sand sucked up +their blood, and the morning wind blew dust over its traces. A boat was +sent off, in due form, to bring Commissary Polverel home to +Government-House. Toussaint himself went to the prison to bring out +General Laveaux, with every demonstration of respect; and all presently +wore the aspect of a jour-de-fete. + +Hour by hour tidings were spread which increased the joy of the French, +and the humiliation of their foes. The intercepted dispatches were +given up, and more arrived with the news of the successive defection +from the allies of all the important posts in the colony, held by negro +forces. In the name of Toussaint Breda, the garrisons of Marmalade and +Plaisance first declared for republican France; and after them, Gros +Morne, Henneri, and Le Dondon. + +The news of the acquisition of these last arrived in the evening, when +the French officials were entertaining the negro chief in the salon of +Government-House. It was late: the house was brilliantly lighted; and +its illuminations were reflected from a multitude of faces without. +Late as it was, and great as had been the fatigues of the negro troops, +they were not yet weary of hearing the praises of their own Toussaint. +Adding their numbers to those of the white inhabitants of Cap, they +thronged the court of Government-House and the Jesuits' Walk; and even +in the Place d'Archer and the Rue Espagnole, passengers found it +difficult to make their way. The assemblage could scarcely have told +what detained them there, unless it were the vague expectation of more +news, the repetition of the praises they loved to hear, and, perhaps, +some hope of getting one more glimpse of Toussaint on this night of his +triumph. From mouth to mouth circulated the words which General Laveaux +had spoken in the morning, when released from his prison--"This man is +the saviour of the whites--the avenger of the authorities. He is surely +the black, the Spartacus predicted by Raynal, whose destiny it should be +to avenge the wrongs of his race." From mouth to month went these +words; and from heart to heart spread the glow they kindled. + +Toussaint himself had heard these words; and in his heart also were they +glowing. As he sat at table, refreshing himself with fruits, but +(according to his invariable custom) refusing wine, he was reminded by +all that passed that his career was not ended. He wore the uniform of +brigadier-general--a token that he had not lost rank. Monsieur Polverel +had declared his intention of soon returning to France; and General +Laveaux had said that when he was thus left in charge of the colony, he +should entreat General Toussaint, who best understood its affairs, to +fill the office of lieutenant-governor, and should also be guided in +military affairs implicitly by his counsels. Toussaint heard, and felt +that, in truth, his career was not ended. He was requested to name a +day when he would take the oaths publicly, and receive the homage of the +grateful colony; and in his reply he took occasion to declare with +earnestness that his present course of action originated altogether in +the decree of the Convention in favour of the negroes; and that the +resources of his power and influence should all be directed towards +raising his race to that intellectual and moral equality with the +whites, without which they could neither enjoy nor retain the political +equality which the Convention had decreed. In the midst of the strongly +expressed sympathy of his hosts, who were this day disposed to approve +and admire all he said and did--while they were uttering hopes for his +own people which touched his soul, the final news of this great day was +brought in, contained in dispatches which told of the acquisition of the +posts of Limbe and l'Aeul--the two bars to the north-western peninsula +of the colony. The commanders declared their adhesion to the cause of +the blacks and Toussaint Breda. + +"Bravo!" cried the French general: "that obstinate region is ours! We +will march through those posts to hold our festival, and the oaths shall +be taken at Port Paix. Was not that district considered the most +obstinate, general?" + +Toussaint did not answer. He did not hear. The mention of Port Paix +carried back his thoughts to the night when he was last there, heavy at +heart, assisting his master to escape. + +"All is ours, now, through him," said Monsieur Polverel, gazing at his +guest, "Yes," rejoined Laveaux; "he is the Napoleon Bonaparte of Saint +Domingo." + +"Who is he?--who is Napoleon Bonaparte?" asked Toussaint, roused to +listen. "I have heard his name. What has he done?" + +"He is a young French artillery officer--" + +"A Corsican by birth," interposed Polverel. + +"Is he really? I was not aware of that," said Laveaux. "That +circumstance somewhat increases the resemblance of the cases. He was +ill-used (or thought he was) by his officers, and was on the point of +joining the Turkish service, when he was employed in the defence of the +Convention, the other day. He saved the Convention--he saved Paris--and +he is about to put off his uniform of brigadier-general" (and Laveaux +smiled and bowed as he spoke)--"like yourself, he is about to put off +his uniform of brigadier-general for that of a higher rank. His name +was known before in connection with the siege of Toulon. But this last +achievement is the grand one. He has cleaved the path of the +Convention. Polverel, did I not say rightly that General Toussaint is +the Napoleon Bonaparte of Saint Domingo?" + +"Yes. General Toussaint also is making for us an opening everywhere." + +Toussaint heard the words, but they made a faint impression at the +moment of his imagination being fixed on the young artillery officer. +There were those present, however, who lost nothing of what was spoken, +and who conveyed it all to the eager ears outside. The black +attendants, the gazers and listeners who went in and out, intoxicated +with the glory of the negro general, reported all that was said of him. +These last few words of Polverel wrought wonderfully, and were instantly +spread through the excited multitude. A shout was presently heard, +which must have sounded far up the mountains and over the bay; and +Polverel started with surprise when his word came back to him in a +response like that of an assembled nation. "L'ouverture!" +"L'ouverture!" cried the multitude, fully comprehending what the word +contained in its application to their chief, "Toussaint L'Ouverture!" +Henceforth, the city, the colony, the island, and, after a time, all +Europe, rang with the name of Toussaint L'Ouverture. + +When Toussaint heard the cry from without, he started to his feet; and +his hosts rose also, on seeing the fire in his eye--brighter than during +the deeds of the morning. + +"The general would address them," said Polverel. "You wish to speak to +the people, General Toussaint." + +"No," said Toussaint. + +"What then?" inquired Laveaux. + +"I would be alone," said Toussaint, stepping backwards from the table. + +"Your fatigues have doubtless been great," observed Laveaux. "Lights +shall be ordered in your apartment." + +"I cannot sleep yet," said Toussaint. "I cannot sleep till I have news +from Breda. But I have need of thought, gentlemen; there is moonlight +and quiet in these gardens. Permit me to leave you now." + +He paced the shrubberies, cool with moonlight and with dews; and his +agitation subsided when all eyes but those of Heaven were withdrawn. +Here no flatteries met his ear--no gestures of admiration made him drop +his eyes, abashed. Constrained as he yet felt himself in equal +intercourse with whites, new to his recognised freedom, unassured in his +acts, uncertain of the future, and (as he believed) unprepared for such +a future as was now unfolding, there was something inexpressibly irksome +and humbling in the homage of the whites--of men who understood nothing +of him, and little of his race, and who could have none but political +purposes in their intercourse with him. He needed this evening the +sincerities as well as the soothings of nature; and it was with a sense +of relief that he cast himself once again upon her bosom, to be +instructed, with infantine belief, how small an atom he was in the +universe of God--how low a rank he held in the hierarchy of the +ministers of the Highest. + +"Yet I _am_ one," thought he, as the shout of his name and now title +reached his ear, distinct, though softened by distance. "I am an +appointed minister. It seems as if I were the one of whom I myself have +spoken as likely to arise--not, as Laveaux says, after Raynal, to +avenge, but to repair the wrongs of my colour. Low, indeed, are we +sunk, deep is our ignorance, abject are our wills, if such a one as I am +to be the leader of thousands--I, whose will is yet unexercised--I, who +shrink ashamed before the knowledge of the meanest white--I, so lately a +slave--so long dependent that I am an oppression to myself--am at this +hour the ruler over ten thousand wills! The ways of God are dark, or it +might seem that He despised His negro children in committing so many of +them to so poor a guide. But He despises nothing that He has made. It +may be that we are too weak and ignorant to be fit for better guidance +in our new state of rights and duties. It may be that a series of +teachers is appointed to my colour, of whom I am to be the first, only +because I am the lowest; destined to give way to wiser guides when I +have taught all that I know, and done all that I can. May it be so! I +will devote myself wholly; and when I have done may I be more willing to +hide myself in my cottage, or lie down in my grave, than I have been +this day to accept the new lot which I dare not refuse!--Deal gently +with me, O God! and, however I fail, let me not see my children's hearts +hardened, as hearts are hardened, by power! Let me not see in their +faces the look of authority, nor hear in their voices the tones of +pride! Be with my people, O Christ! The weaker I am, the more be Thou +with them, that Thy gospel may be at last received! The hearts of my +people are soft--they are gentle, they are weak:--let Thy gospel make +them pure--let it make them free. Thy gospel--who has not heard of it, +and who has seen it? May it be found in the hearts of my people, the +despised! and who shall then despise them again? The past is all guilt +and groans. Into the future open a better way--" + +"Toussaint L'Ouverture!" he heard again from afar, and bowed his head, +overpowered with hope. + +"Toussaint L'Ouverture!" repeated some light gay voices close at hand. +His boys were come, choosing to bring themselves the news from Breda-- +that Margot and her daughters, and old Dessalines and Moyse were all +there, safe and happy, except for their dismay at finding the cottage +and field in such a state of desolation. + +"They will not mind when they hear that they are to live in a mansion +henceforward," said Placide. "Jean Francais had better have stood by +his colour, as we do." + +"And how have you stood by your colour, my young hero?" + +"I told Jean in the camp to-day--" + +"Jean! In the camp! How came you there?" + +"We were so near, that I galloped in to see what they thought of your +leaving, and who had followed you." + +"Then I thank God that you are here." + +"Jean caught me; but the General bade him let me go, and asked whether +the blacks made war upon children. I told him that I was not a child; +and I told Jean that you had rather live in a cave for the sake of the +blacks, than go off to the court of Spain--" + +"What made you fancy I should go there?" + +"Not you, but Jean. Jean is going, he says, because he is a noble. +There will soon be peace between France and Spain, he says; and then he +shall be a noble at the court of Spain. I am glad he is going." + +"So am I, if he thinks he shall be happy there." + +"We shall be better without him," said Isaac. "He would never be quiet +while you were made Lieutenant-Governor of Saint Domingo. Now you will +be alone and unmolested in your power. Where did you learn all this?" + +"Every one knows it--every one in Cap. Every one knows that Jean has +done with us, and that the Commissary is going home, and that General +Laveaux means to be guided in everything by you; and that the posts have +all surrendered in your name; and that at Port Paix--" + +"Enough, enough! my boys. Too much, for I see that your hearts are +proud." + +"The Commissary and the General said that you are supreme--the idol of +your colour. Those were their words." + +"And in this there is yet no glory. I have yet done nothing, but by +what is called accident. Our own people were ready--by no preparation +of mine; the mulattoes were weak and taken by surprise, through +circumstances not of my ordering. Glory there may hereafter be +belonging to our name, my boys; but as yet there is none. I have power: +but power is less often glory than disgrace." + +"Oh, father! do but listen. Hark again! `Toussaint L'Ouverture!'" + +"I will strive to make that shout a prophecy, my sons. Till then, no +pride! Are you not weary? Come in to rest. Can you sleep in my fine +chamber here as well as at Breda?" + +"Anywhere," said Isaac, sleepily. + +Toussaint gave up his apartment to his sons, and went forth once more to +survey the town, and see that his troops were in their quarters. This +done, he repaired to his friend Henri, willing for one more night to +forego his greatness; and there, in his friend's small barrack-room, the +supreme in the colony--the idol of his colour--slept, as he had hoped +for his boys, as tranquilly as if he had been at Breda. + + + +CHAPTER TEN. + +A MORNING OF OFFICE. + +If the devastation attending the revolutionary wars of Saint Domingo was +great, it was repaired with singular rapidity. Thanks to the vigorous +agencies of nature in a tropical region, the desolated plains were +presently covered with fresh harvests, and the burnt woods were buried +deep under the shadow of young forests, more beautiful than the old. +Thanks also to the government of the wisest mind in the island, the +moral evils of the struggle were made subordinate to its good results. +It was not in the power of man to bury past injuries in oblivion, while +there were continually present minds which had been debased by tyranny, +and hearts which had been outraged by cruelty; but all that could be +done was done. Vigorous employment was made the great law of society-- +the one condition of the favour of its chief; and, amidst the labours of +the hoe and the mill, the workshop and the wharf--amidst the toils of +the march and the bustle of the court, the bereaved and insulted forgot +their woes and their revenge. A now growth of veneration and of hope +overspread the ruins of old delights and attachments, as the verdure of +the plain spread its mantle over the wrecks of mansion and of hut. In +seven years from the kindling of the first incendiary torch on the +Plaine du Nord, it would have been hard for a stranger, landing in Saint +Domingo, to believe what had been the horrors of the war. + +Of these seven years, however, the first three or four had been entirely +spent in war, and the rest disturbed by it. Double that number of years +must pass before there could be any security that the crop planted would +ever be reaped, or that the peasants who laid out their family +burying-grounds would be carried there in full age, instead of perishing +in the field or in the woods. The cultivators went out to their daily +work with the gun slung across their shoulders and the cutlass in their +belt: the hills were crested with forts, and the mountain-passes were +watched by scouts. The troops were frequently reviewed in the squares +of the towns, and news was perpetually arriving of a skirmish here or +there. The mulatto general, Rigaud, had never acknowledged the +authority of Toussaint L'Ouverture; and he was still in the field, with +a mulatto force sufficient to interrupt the prosperity of the colony, +and endanger the authority of its Lieutenant-Governor. It was some +time, however, since Rigaud had approached any of the large towns. The +sufferers by his incursions were the planters and field-labourers. The +inhabitants of the towns carried on their daily affairs as if peace had +been fully established in the island, and feeling the effects of such +warfare as there was only in their occasional contributions of time and +money. + +The Commander-in-chief, as Toussaint L'Ouverture was called, by the +appointment of the French commissaries, though his dignity had not yet +been confirmed from Paris--the Commander-in-chief of Saint Domingo held +his head-quarters at Port-au-Prince. Among other considerations which +rendered this convenient, the chief was that he thus avoided much +collision with the French officials, which must otherwise have taken +place. All the commissaries, who rapidly succeeded one another from +Paris, resided at Government-House, in Cap Francais. Thence, they +issued orders and regulations in the name of the government at home; +orders and regulations which were sometimes practicable, sometimes +unwise, and often absurd. If Toussaint had resided at Cap, a constant +witness of their ignorance of the minds, manners, and interests of the +blacks--if he had been there to listen to the complaints and appeals +which would have been daily made, he could scarcely have kept terms for +a single week with the French authorities. By establishing himself in +the south, while they remained in the north, he was able quietly to +neutralise or repair much of the mischief which they did, and to execute +many of his own plans without consulting them; while many a grievance +was silently borne, many an order simply neglected, which would have +been a cause of quarrel, if any power of redress had been at hand. +Jealous as he was for the infant freedom of his race, Toussaint knew +that it would be best preserved by weaning their minds from thoughts of +anger, and their eyes from the sight of blood. Trust in the better part +of negro nature guided him in his choice between two evils. He +preferred that they should be misgoverned in some affairs of secondary +importance, and keep the peace, rather than that they should be governed +to their hearts' content by himself, at the risk of quarrel with the +mother-country. He trusted to the singular power of forbearance and +forgiveness which is found in the negro race for the preservation of +friendship with the whites and of the blessings of peace; and he +therefore reserved his own powerful influence over both parties for +great occasions--interfering only when he perceived that, through +carelessness or ignorance, the French authorities were endangering some +essential liberty of those to whom they were the medium of the pleasure +of the government at home. The blacks were aware that the vigilance of +their Commander-in-chief over their civil rights never slept, and that +his interference always availed; and these convictions ensured their +submission, or at least their not going beyond passive resistance on +ordinary occasions, and thus strengthened their habits of peace. + +The Commander-in-chief held his levees at Port-au-Prince on certain days +of the month, all the year round. No matter how far-off he might be, or +how engaged, the night before, he rarely failed to be at home on the +appointed day, at the fixed hour. On one particular occasion, he was +known to have been out against Rigaud, day and night, for a fortnight, +and to be closely engaged as far south as Aux Cayes, the very evening +preceding the review and levee which had been announced for the 20th of +January. Not the less for this did he appear in front of the troops in +the Place Republicaine, when the daylight gushed in from the east, +putting out the stars, whose reflection trembled in the still waters of +the bay. The last evolutions were finished, and the smoke from the last +volley had incited away in the serene sky of January, before the +coolness of the northern breeze had yielded to the blaze of the mounting +sun. The troops then lined the long streets of the town, and the avenue +to the palace, while the Commander-in-chief and his staff passed on, and +entered the palace-gates. + +The palace, like every other building in Port-au-Prince, consisted of +one storey only. The town had been destroyed by an earthquake in 1770; +and, though earthquakes are extremely rare in Saint Domingo, the place +had been rebuilt in view of the danger of another. The palace therefore +covered a large piece of ground, and its principal rooms were each +nearly surrounded by garden and grass-plat. The largest apartment, in +which the levees were always held, was the best room in the island--if +not for the richness of its furniture, for its space and proportions, +and the views which it commanded. Not even the abode of the +Commander-in-chief could exhibit such silken sofas, marble tables, +gilded balustrades, and japanned or ivory screens, as had been common in +the mansions of the planters; and Toussaint had found other uses for +such money as he had than those of pure luxury. The essential and +natural advantages of his palace were enough for him and his. The door +of this, his favourite apartment, was covered with a fine India matting; +the windows were hung with white muslin curtains; and the sofas, which +stood round three sides of the room, between the numerous windows, were +covered with green damask, of no very rich quality. In these many +windows lay the charm, commanding, as they did, extensive prospects to +the east, north, and west. The broad verandah cast a shadow which +rendered it unnecessary to keep the jalousies closed, except during the +hottest hours of the year. This morning every blind was swung wide +open, and the room was cool and shady, while, without, all was bathed in +the mild, golden sunshine of January--bright enough for the strongest +eye, but without glare. + +To the east and north spread the Cul-de-Sac--a plain of unequalled +richness, extending to the foot of the mountains, fifteen miles into the +interior. The sun had not yet risen so high but that these mountains +cast a deep shadow for some distance into the plain, while their skirts +were dark with coffee-groves, and their summits were strongly marked +against the glowing sky. Amidst the wide, verdant level of the plain, +arose many a white mansion, each marked by a cluster of trees, close at +hand. Some of these plantation houses looked bluish and cool in the +mountain shadows; others were like bright specks in the sunshine, each +surmounted by a star, if its gilded weathercock chanced to turn in the +breeze. To the north, also, this plain, still backed by mountains, +extended till it joined the sands of the bight. + +Upon these sands, on the margin of the deep blue waters, might be seen +flashing in the sun a troop of flamingoes, now moving forward in a line +into the waves, and diligently fishing; and then, on the alarm of a +scout, all taking wing successively, and keeping their order, as they +flew homewards, to the salt marshes in the interior--their scarlet +bodies vividly contrasted with the dark green of the forests that +clothed the mountain-sides. To the west lay the broad azure sheet of +the bay, locked by the island of Gonave, and sprinkled with +fishing-boats, while under the forest-tufted rocks of the island two +vessels rode at anchor--a schooner belonging to Saint Domingo, and an +English frigate. + +In the shady western piazza sat a party who seemed much occupied in +looking out upon the bay, and watching the vessels that lay under the +island; from which vessels boats might be seen putting off for the town +just at the time of the commencement of the levee. The party in the +piazza consisted chiefly of women. Madame L'Ouverture was there--like, +and yet unlike, the Margot of former years--employed, as usual--busy +with her needle, and motherly, complacent, tenderly vigilant as of old; +but with a matronly grace and dignity which evidently arose from a +gratified mind, and not from external state. Her daughters were beside +her, both wonderfully improved in beauty, though Genifrede still +preserved the superiority there. She sat a little apart from her mother +and sister netting. Moyse was at her feet, in order to obtain the +benefit of an occasional gleam from the eyes which were cast down upon +her work. His idolatry of her was no surprise to any who looked upon +her in her beauty, now animated and exalted by the love which she had +avowed, and which was sanctioned by her father and her family. The +sisters were dressed nearly alike, though Aimee knew well that it would +have been politic to have avoided thus bringing herself into immediate +comparison with her sister. But Aimee cared not what was thought of her +face, form, or dress. Isaac had always been satisfied with them. She +had confided in Genifrede's taste when they first assumed their rank; +and it was least troublesome to do so still. If Isaac should wish it +otherwise when he should return from France, she would do as he desired. +Meantime, they were dressed in all essentials exactly alike, from the +pattern of the Madras handkerchief they wore (according to universal +custom) on their heads, to the cut of the French-kid shoe. The dress +was far from resembling the European fashion of the time. No tight +lacing; no casing in whalebone--nothing like a hoop. A chemisette of +the finest cambric appeared within the bodice, and covered the bosom. +The short full sleeves were also of white cambric. The bodice, and +short full skirt, were of deep yellow India silk; and the waist was +confined with a broad band of violet-coloured velvet, gaily embroidered. +The only difference in the dress of the sisters was in their ornaments. +Aimee wore heavy ear-drops, and a large necklace and bracelets of +amethyst; while Genifrede wore, suspended from a throat-band of velvet, +embroidered like that which bound her waist, a massive plain gold +crucifix, lately given her by Moyse. Her ear-rings were hoops of plain +gold, and her bracelets again of embroidered velvet, clasped with plain +gold. In her might be seen, and in her was seen by the Europeans who +attended the levee of that day, what the negro face and form may be when +seen in their native climate, unhardened by degradation, undebased by +ignorance, unspoiled by oppression--all peculiarities of feature +softened under the refining influence of mind, and all peculiarities of +expression called out in their beauty by the free exercise of natural +affections. The animated sweetness of the negro countenance is known +only to those who have seen it thus. + +Paul was of the party, looking very well in the French uniform, which he +wore in honour of his brother on great occasions, though he was far from +having grown warlike on his change of fortune. His heart was still in +his cottage, or on the sea; and now, as he stood leaning against a +pillar of the piazza, his eye was more busy in watching the +fishing-boats in the bay than in observing what went on within the +house. The only thing he liked about state-days was the hours of +idleness they afforded--such hours as this, when, lounging in the shade, +he could see Moyse happy at the feet of his beloved, and enjoy the soft +wind as it breathed past, laden with spicy scents. During such an hour, +he almost forgot the restraints of his uniform and of his rank. + +There was yet another person in the piazza. Seated on its step, but +sheltered by its broad eaves, sat Therese--more beautiful by far than +Genifrede--more beautiful by far than in her days of girlhood-- +celebrated as she had then been throughout the colony. Her girlishness +was gone, except its grace; her sensitiveness was gone, and (as those +might think who did not watch the changes of her eye) much of her +animation. Her carriage was majestic, her countenance, calm, and its +beauty, now refined by a life of leisure and the consciousness of rank-- +leisure and rank both well employed--more imposing than ever. Her +husband was now a general in Toussaint's army. When he was in the +field, Madame Dessalines remained at home, on their estate near Saint +Marc. When he was in attendance on the Commander-in-chief, she was ever +a welcome guest in Toussaint's family. Madame L'Ouverture loved her as +a daughter; and she had endeared herself to the girls. At this time, +from an accidental circumstance, she was at the palace without her +husband. It was evident that she felt quite at home there; for, though +she had arrived only a few hours before, she did not appear disposed to +converse. As she sat alone, leaning against the base of the pillar, she +now and then cast her eyes on the book she held open in her hand, but +for the most part looked abroad upon the terraced town, the bay, or the +shadowy clefts of the rocky island which closed it in. + +The sound of feet and of voices from within increased from moment to +moment. The Commander-in-chief had assumed his place, with his aides on +either hand; and presently the room was so nearly filled as to leave no +more space than was required for the deputations to pass in at one +entrance on the south of the apartment, appear before the General, and +pass out at the other door. Toussaint stood at the centre of the north +end, beside a table partly covered with papers, and at which sat his +secretary. On this table lay his cocked hat. His uniform was blue, +with scarlet capo and cuffs, richly embroidered. He had white trousers, +long Hessian boots, and, as usual, the Madras handkerchief on his head. +While walking up the apartment, he had been conversing on business with +his officers, and continued to do so, without the loss of a moment, +till, on his taking his place, two ushers came up with an account of the +parties waiting for admittance, desiring to know his pleasure as to who +should have precedence. + +"The clergy," said Toussaint; "the first in duty must be first in +honour." + +In a few moments there was a loud announcement of the clergy from the +districts of Saint Marc, Leogane, Mirbalais, and so on, through a long +enumeration of districts. The priests entered, two and two, a long +procession of black gowns. As they collected into a group before him, +every one anxiously making way for them, Toussaint crossed his arms upon +his breast, and bowed his head low for many moments. When he looked up +again, an expression of true reverence was upon his countenance; and, in +a tone of earnestness, he asked for what service they desired to command +him. + +Father Antioche, an old priest, assisted by a brother at least thirty +years younger, offered sealed papers, which, he said, contained reports +from the several districts concerning the religious and moral condition +of the inhabitants. Toussaint received them, and laid them, with his +own hand, upon the table beside him, saying, with much solicitude-- + +"Do I see rightly in your countenances that you bring good news of your +flocks, my fathers!" + +"It is so," replied the old priest. "Our wishes are fast fulfilling." + +"Eight thousand marriages have been celebrated, as will appear in our +reports," added the young priest. + +"And in the difficult cases of a plurality of wives," resumed Father +Antioche, "there is generally a willingness in the cultivators to +maintain liberally those who are put away." + +"And the children?" + +"The children may be found in the schools, sitting side by side in +peace. The quarrels of the children of different mothers (quarrels +often fatal in the fields) disappear in the schools. The reports well +exhibit the history of our expanding system." + +"God be thanked!" Toussaint uttered in a low voice. + +"Under the religions rule of your excellency," said the young priest, +"enforced by so pure an example of piety, the morals of this colony will +be established, and the salvation of its people secured." + +"You," said Toussaint, "the servants of Christ, are the true rulers of +this island and its inhabitants. I am your servant in guarding external +order, during a period which you will employ in establishing your flocks +in the everlasting wisdom and peace of religion. I hold the inferior +office of keeping our enemies in awe, and enabling our people to find +subsistence and comfort. My charge is the soil on which, and the bodies +in which, men live. You have in charge their souls, in which lies the +future of this world and of the next. You are the true rulers of Saint +Domingo; and we bow to you as such." + +Every head was immediately bowed, and the priests went out, amidst the +obeisances of the whole assemblage--some of the order wondering, +perhaps, whether every mind there was as sincere in its homage as that +of the Commander-in-chief. + +The superintendents of the cultivators came next--negroes dressed in +check shirts, white linen jackets and trousers, and with the usual +Madras handkerchief on the head. They, too, handed in reports; and to +them also did Toussaint address his questions, with an air of respect +almost equal to that with which he had spoken to the priests. + +"I grieve," said he, "that you cannot yet fulfil your function +altogether in peace. My generals and I have done what we can to +preserve our fields from devastation, and our cultivators from the +dangers and the fears of ambushed foes; but Rigaud's forces are not yet +subdued; and for a while we must impose upon our cultivators the toil of +working armed in the field. We are soldiers here," he added, looking +round upon his officers, "but I hope there is not one of us who does not +honour the hoe more than the gun. How far have you been able to repair +in the south-eastern districts the interruption in the September +planting?" + +The superintendent of those districts came forward, and said that some +planting had been effected in November, the sprouts of which now looked +well. More planting had been done during the early part of the present +month; and time would show the result. + +"Good!" said Toussaint. "Some of the finest crops I have seen have +risen from January plants, though it were best it were done in +September. How do you report about the rats?" + +"The nuisance is still great," replied the head superintendent; "their +uninterrupted possession of the fields during the troubles has made them +very powerful. Would that your excellency were as powerful to conquer +the rats as the mulattoes!" + +"We have allies," said Toussaint, gravely--"an army more powerful than +that which I command. Where are the ants!" + +"They have closed their campaign. They cleared the fields for us in the +autumn; but they have disappeared." + +"For a time only. While there are rats, they will reappear." + +"And when there are no more rats, we must call in some force, if your +excellency knows of such, to make war upon the an Is; for they are only +a less evil than that which they cure." + +"If they were absent, you would find some worse evil in their stead-- +pestilence, perhaps. Teach your children this, if you hear them +complain of anything to which Providence has given life and an errand +among us. The cocoa walks at Plaisance--are they fenced to the north?" + +"Completely. The new wood has sprung up from the ashes of the fires, +like a mist from the lake." + +"Are the cottages enlarged and divided, as I recommended?" + +"Universally. Every cottage inhabited by a family has now two rooms, at +least. As your excellency also desired, the cultivators have spent +their leisure hours in preparing furniture--from bedsteads to baskets. +As the reports will explain, there are some inventions which it is hoped +will be inspected by your excellency--particularly a ventilator, to be +fixed in the roofs of cottages; a broad shoe for walking over the salt +marshes; and--" + +"The cooler," prompted a voice from behind. + +"And a new kind of cooler, which preserves liquids, and even meats, for +a longer time than any previously known to the richest planter in the +island. This discovery does great credit to the sagacity of the +labourer who has completed it." + +"I will come and view it. I hope to visit all our cultivators--to +verify your reports with my own eyes. At present, we are compelled, +like the Romans, to go from arms to the plough, and from the plough to +arms; but, when possible, I wish to show that I am not a negro of the +coast, with my eye ever abroad upon the sea, or on foreign lands. I +desire that we should make use of our own means for our own welfare. +Everything that is good shall be welcomed from abroad as it arrives; but +the liberty of the blacks can be secured only by the prosperity of their +agriculture." + +"I do not see why not by fisheries," observed Paul, to the party in the +piazza, as he caught his brother's words. "If Toussaint is not fond of +fish, he should remember that other people are." + +"He means," said Therese, "that toil, peaceful toil, with its hope, and +its due fruit, is best for the blacks. Now, you know, Paul L'Ouverture, +that if the fields of the ocean had required as much labour as those of +the plain, you would never have been a fisherman." + +"It is pleasanter on a hot day to dive than to dig; and easier to draw +the net for an hour than to cut canes for a day--is it not, uncle?" +asked Aimee. + +"If the Commander-in-chief thinks toil good for us," said Moyse, "why +does he disparage war? Who knows better than he what are the fatigues +of a march? and the wearisomeness of an ambush is greater still. Why +does he, of all men, disparage war?" + +"Because," said Madame, "he thinks there has been enough hatred and +fighting. I have to put him in mind of his own glory in war, or he +would be always forgetting it--except, indeed, when any one comes from +Europe. When he hears of Bonaparte, he smiles; and I know he is then +glad that he is a soldier too." + +"Besides his thinking that there has been too much fighting," said +Aimee, "he wishes that the people should labour joyfully in the very +places where they used to toil in wretchedness for the whites." + +Therese turned to listen, with fire in her eyes. + +"In order," continued Aimee, "that they may lose the sense of that +misery, and become friendly towards the whites." + +Therese turned away again, languidly. + +"There are whites now entering," said Paul; "not foreigners, are they?" + +"No," said Madame. "Surely they are Creoles; yes, there is Monsieur +Caze, and Monsieur Hugonin, and Monsieur Charrier. I think these +gentlemen have all been reinstated in their properties since the last +levee. Hear what they say." + +"We come," exclaimed aloud Monsieur Caze, the spokesman of the party of +white planters; "we come, overwhelmed with amazement, penetrated with +gratitude, to lay our thanks at your feet. All was lost. The estates +on which we were born, the lands bequeathed to us by our fathers, were +wrenched from our hands, ravaged, destroyed. We and our families fled-- +some to the mountains--some to the woods--and many to foreign lands. +Your voice reached us, inviting us to our homes. We trusted that voice; +we find our lands restored to us, our homes secure, and the passions of +war stilled, like this atmosphere after the storms of December. And to +you do we owe all--to you, possessed by a magnanimity of which we had +not dared to dream!" + +"These passions of war, of which you speak," said Toussaint, "need never +have raged, if God had permitted the whites to dream what was in the +souls of the blacks. Let the past now be forgotten. I have restored +your estates because they were yours; but I also perceive advantages in +your restoration. By circumstances--not by nature, but by +circumstances--the whites have been able to acquire a wide intelligence, +a depth of knowledge, from which the blacks have been debarred. I +desire for the blacks a perpetual and friendly intercourse with those +who are their superiors in education. As residents, therefore, you are +welcome; and your security and welfare shall be my care. You find your +estates peopled with cultivators?" + +"We do." + +"And you understand the terms on which the labour of your +fellow-citizens may be hired? You have only to secure to them +one-fourth of the produce, and you will, I believe, be well served. If +you experience cause of complaint, your remedy will be found in an +appeal to the superintendent of cultivators of the district, or to +myself. Over the cultivators no one else, I now intimate to you, has +authority." + +The gentlemen bowed, having nothing to say on this head. + +"It may be in your power," continued Toussaint, after applying to his +secretary for a paper from the mass on the table--"it may be in your +power to do a service to the colony, and to individuals mentioned in +this paper, by affording information as to where they are to be found, +if alive; which of them are dead; and which of the dead have left heirs. +Many estates remain unclaimed. The list is about to be circulated in +the colony, in France, and in the United States. If you should chance +to be in correspondence with any of the owners or their heirs, make it +known to them from me that they will be welcome here, as you are. In +the mean time we are taking the best care in empower of their estates. +They must rebuild such of their houses as have been destroyed; but their +lands are cultivated under a commission, a part of the produce being +assigned to the cultivators, the rest to the public treasury." + +Toussaint read the list, watching, as did every one present, the +countenances of the Creoles as each name was pronounced. They had +information to offer respecting one or two only; to the rest they gave +sighs or mournful shakes of the head. + +"It is afflicting to us all," said Toussaint, "to think of the slaughter +and exile of those who drank wine together in the white mansions of +yonder plain. But a wiser cheerfulness is henceforth to spread its +sunshine over our land, with no tempest brewing in its heats." + +"Have we heard the whole list?" asked Monsieur Charrier, anxiously. + +"All except three, whose owners or agents have been already summoned. +These three are, the Athens estate, Monsieur Dank; the Breda estate, the +attorney of which, Monsieur Bayou--" + +"Is here!" cried a voice from the lower part of the room. "I landed +just now," exclaimed Bayou, hastening with extended arms to embrace +Toussaint; "and I lose not a moment--" + +"Gently, sir," said the Commander-in-chief, drawing back two steps. +"There is now a greater distance between me and you than there, once was +between you and me. There can be no familiarity with the chief of a +newly-redeemed race." + +Monsieur Bayou fell back, looking in every face around him, to see what +was thought of this. Every face was grave. + +"I sent for you," resumed Toussaint, in a mild voice, "to put you at the +head of the interests of the good old masters;--for the good alone have +been able to return. Show us what can be done with the Breda estate, +with free labourers. Make the blacks work well. Be not only just, but +firm. You were formerly too mild a master. Make the blacks work well, +that, by the welfare of your small interests, you may add to the general +prosperity of the administration of the Commander-in-chief of Saint +Domingo." + +Monsieur Bayou had no words ready. He stared round him upon the black +officers in their splendid uniforms, upon the trains of liveried +servants, handing coffee and fruits and sangaree on trays and salvers of +massive silver, and on the throng of visitors who crowded upon one +another's heels, all anxious, not merely to pay their respects, but to +offer their enthusiastic homage at the feet of his former slave. His +eye at length fixed upon the windows, through which he saw something of +the outline of the group of ladies. + +"You desire to greet Madame L'Ouverture?" said Toussaint, kindly. "You +shall be conducted to her." And one of the aides stepped forward to +perform the office of introducer. + +Monsieur Bayou pulled from his pocket, on his way to the window, a +shagreen jewel-case; and, by the time he was in front of Madame he had +taken from it a rich gold chain, which he hung on her neck, saying, with +a voice and air strangely made up of jocoseness, awkwardness, and +deference-- + +"I have not forgotten, you see, though I suppose you have, what you gave +me, one day long ago. I tried to bring back something prettier than I +carried away--something for each of you--but--I don't know--I find +everything here so different from what I had any idea of--so very +strange--that I am afraid you will despise my little presents." + +While speaking, he shyly held out little parcels to Genifrede and Aimee, +who received them graciously, while their mother replied-- + +"In those old days, Monsieur Bayou, we had nothing really our own to +give; and you deserved from us any aid that was in our power. My +daughters and I now accept with pleasure the tokens of friendship that +you bring. I hope no changes have taken place which need prevent our +being friends, Monsieur Bayou." + +He scarcely heard her. + +"Is it possible," cried he, "that these can be your girls? Aimee I +might have known--but can this lady be Genifrede?" + +Genifrede looked up with a smile, which perplexed him still further. + +"I do not know that I ever saw a smile from her before; and she would +not so much as lift up her head at one of my jokes. One could never +gain her attention with anything but a ghost story. But I see how it +is," he added, stooping, and speaking low to her mother, while he +glanced at Moyse--"she has learned at last the old song that she would +not listen to when I wanted to tell her fortune:-- + + "`Your heart's your own this summer day; + To-morrow 'twill be changed away.' + +"And Aimee--is she married?" + +"Aimee is a widow--at least, so we call her," said her mother, smiling. +"Isaac (you remember Placide and Isaac)--her brother Isaac is all the +world to her; and he is far away." + +Aimee's eyes were full of tears in a moment; but she looked happy, as +she always did when Isaac was spoken of as her own peculiar friend. + +"I was going to ask about your boys," said Bayou. "The little fellow +who used to ride the horses to water, almost before he could walk +alone--he and his brothers, where are they?" + +"Denis is with his tutor, in the palace here. Placide and Isaac are at +Paris." + +"At Paris! For education?" + +"Partly so." + +"And partly," interposed Paul, "for an object in which you, sir, have an +interest, and respecting which you ought, therefore, to be informed. +There are those who represent my brother's actions as the result of +personal ambition. Such persons have perpetually accused him to the +French Government as desiring to sever the connection between the two +races, and therefore between this colony and France. At the moment when +these charges were most strongly urged, and most nearly believed, my +brother sent his two elder sons to Paris, to be educated for their +future duties under the care of the Directory. I hope, sir, you see in +this act a guarantee for the safety and honour of the whites in Saint +Domingo." + +"Certainly, certainly. All very right--very satisfactory." + +"Everybody who understands, thinks all that the Commander-in-chief does +quite right," said Madame, with so much of her old tone and manner as +made Bayou ready to laugh. He turned to Paul, saying-- + +"May I ask if you are the brother who used to reside on the northern +coast--if I remember right?" + +"I am. I am Paul--Paul L'Ouverture." He sighed as he added, "I do not +live on the northern coast now. I am going to live on the southern +coast--in a palace, instead of my old hut." + +"Monsieur Bayou will see--Monsieur Bayou will hear," interrupted Madame, +"if he will stay out the levee. You will not leave us to-day, Monsieur +Bayou?" + +Monsieur Bayou bowed. He then asked if he had the pleasure of any +acquaintance with the other lady, who had not once turned round since he +arrived. Therese had indeed sat with her face concealed for some time +past. + +"Do not ask her," said Aimee, eagerly, in a low voice. "We do not speak +to her of old times. She is Madame Dessalines." + +"The lady of General Dessalines," said Madame. "Shall I introduce you?" + +She called to Therese. Therese just turned round to notice the +introduction, when her attention was called another way by two officers, +who brought her some message from Toussaint. That one glance perplexed +Monsieur Bayou as much as anything he had seen. That beautiful face and +form were not new to him; but he had only a confused impression as to +where and when he had seen them. He perceived, however, that he was not +to ask. He followed her with his eyes as she rose from her low seat, +and placed herself close by one of the open jalousies, so as to hear +what passed within. + +"It is the English deputation," said Paul. "Hear what my brother will +say." + +"What will become of them?" said Madame. "I do not know what would +become of me if my husband were ever as angry with me as I know he is +with them." + +There were indeed signs of wrath in the countenance which was commonly +gentle as the twilight. The rigid uprightness of his figure, the fiery +eye, the distended nostril, all showed that Toussaint was struggling +with anger. Before him stood a group of Englishmen--a sailor holding a +wand, on which was fixed a small white banner, two gentlemen in plain +clothes, the captain of the frigate which rode in the bay, and a colonel +of the English troops in Jamaica. + +"It is all very well, gentlemen," Toussaint was saying--"it is all very +well as regards the treaty. Twenty-four hours ago we should have had no +difficulty in concluding it. But what have you to say to this treatment +of women on board the schooner you captured? What have you to say to +your act of taking all the gentlemen out of your prize (except one who +would not quit his sister), leaving the ladies in charge of a brutal +prize-master, who was drunk--was it not so?" he added, turning to one of +his officers. + +"It was: he was drunk, and refused the ladies access to their trunks of +clothes, denied them the wine left for their use, and alarmed them +extremely by his language. These ladies were wives of our most +distinguished officers." + +"It matters not whose wives they were," said Toussaint: "they were +women; and I will treat with none who thus show themselves not to be +men." + +"We do not ask you to treat with my prize-master," said Captain +Reynolds. "If it be true--" + +"It is true," said a voice from the window, to which all listened in a +moment. "My maid and I were on board that schooner; from which we +landed four hours ago. It is true that we were confined to the cabin, +denied the refreshments that were before our eyes, and the use of our +own clothes; and it is true that the oaths and threats of a drunken man +were in our ears all night. When morning came, we looked out to see if +we were really in the seas of Saint Domingo. It seemed as if we had +been conveyed where the whites are still paramount." And Therese +indignantly walked away. + +"You hear!" said Toussaint. "And you ask me to trade with Jamaica! +While permitted to obtain provisions from our coast, you have captured a +French schooner and a sloop in our seas; you have insulted our women; +and now you propose a treaty! If it were not for that banner, you would +have to treat for mercy." + +"When shall I be permitted to speak?" asked Captain Reynolds. + +"Now." + +"The blame is mine. I appointed a prize-master, who, it now appears, +was not trustworthy. I was not aware of this; and I left in the cabin, +for the use of the ladies, all their own property, two cases of wine, +and such fruits as I could obtain for them. I lament to find that my +confidence was misplaced; and I pledge myself that the prize-master +shall be punished. After offering my apologies to the offended ladies, +I will retire to my ship, leaving this business of the treaty to appear +as unconnected as it really is with this mischance. Allow me to be +conducted to the presence of the ladies." + +"I will charge myself with your apologies," said Toussaint, who knew +that any white stood a small chance of a good reception from Therese. +"I accept your acknowledgment of error, Captain Reynolds, and shall be +ready to proceed with the treaty, on proof of the punishment of the +prize-master. Gentlemen, I regard this treaty with satisfaction, and am +willing to enclose this small tract of peace in the midst of the dreary +wilderness of war. I am willing to see trade established between +Jamaica and Saint Domingo. There are days when your blue mountains are +seen from our shores. Let to-morrow be a bright day when no cloud shall +hide us from one another's friendship." + +"To-morrow," the deputation from Jamaica agreed, as they bowed +themselves out of the presence of the Commander-in-chief. + +"More English! more English!" was whispered round, when the name of +Gauthier was announced. + +"No; not English," observed some, on seeing that the five who now +entered, though in the English uniform, were mulattoes. + +"Not English," said Toussaint, aloud. "English soldiers are honourable, +whether as friends or foes. When we meet with the spying eye, and the +bribing hand, we do not believe them to be English. Such are the eyes +and hands of these men. They have the audacity to present themselves as +guests, when their own hearts should tell them they are prisoners." + +"Prisoners!" exclaimed Gauthier and his companions. + +"Yes, surely--prisoners. Your conduct has already been judged by a +military commission, and you are sentenced. If you have more to say +than you had to plead to me, say it when I have read." + +Toussaint took from among the papers on the table a letter brought, as +Gauthier alleged, from the English commander, Sir Thomas Brisbane, +declaring Gauthier empowered to treat for the delivery to the British of +the posts of Gonaives, Les Verrettes, and some others, in order to +secure to the British the freedom of the windward passage. Toussaint +declared that the messengers had brought with them bags of money, with +which they had endeavoured to bribe him to this treachery. He asked of +them if this were not true. + +"It is," said Gauthier; "but we and our authorities acted upon the +precedent of your former conduct." + +"What former conduct? Did those hands ever receive gold from the +coffers of an enemy? Speak freely. You shall not suffer from anything +you may say here." + +"You have been the means by which posts have been delivered to an enemy. +We remember hearing of the surrender of Marmalade, Gros Morne, and some +others." + +"I was the means, as you say; but it was done by a wiser will and a +stronger hand than mine. In that transaction my heart was pure. My +design was to lose rank, and to return to poverty by the step I took. +You ought to have inquired into facts, clearly understood by all who +know me, before you proceeded to insult me. Have you more to say?" + +"It was natural that we should believe that he through whom posts had +been delivered would deliver posts again; and this was confirmed by +rumours, and I believe, even by letters which seemed to come from +yourself, in relation to the posts now in question." + +Gauthier appealed to his companions, who all assented. + +"There are other rumours concerning me," said Toussaint, "which could +not be perverted; and to these you should have listened. My actions are +messages addressed to the whole world--letters which cannot be forged; +and these alone you should have trusted. Such misunderstanding as yours +could hardly have been foreseen; but it will be my fault, if it be +repeated. The name of the First of the Blacks must never again be +associated with bribery. You are sentenced by a military commission, +before which your documents have been examined, to run the gauntlet. +The sentence will immediately be executed in the Place d'Armes." + +"Are you aware," cried Gauthier, "that I was second in command at Saint +Marc when it was in the possession of the British?" + +"I am aware of it." + +"This is enmity to our colour," said another. "To our being mulattoes +we owe our disgrace." + +"I have beloved friends of your colour," said Toussaint. "Believe me, +however, the complexion of your souls is so disgusting that I have no +attention to spare for your faces. You must now depart." + +"Change our punishment!" said Gauthier. "Consider that I am an emigrant +officer. Some other punishment!" + +"No other," said Toussaint. "This is the fit punishment--mean as your +design--ridiculous as your attempt. Are the French Commissaries in +waiting, Laroche? Let them be announced." + +The prisoners were removed by one door, while the imposing party from +France entered by the other. + +Commissary Hedouville, who had been for some time resident at Cap +Francais, entered, followed by a party of his countrymen, just arrived +from Paris. There was among them one, at sight of whom Toussaint's +countenance changed, while an exclamation was heard from the piazza, +which showed that his family were moved like himself. The person who +excited this emotion was a young black officer, who entered smiling, and +as if scarcely able to keep his place behind the Commissary, and General +Michel, the head of the new deputation. + +The Commander-in-chief quitted his station, and advanced some steps, +seizing the officer's hand, and asking eagerly-- + +"Vincent! Why here? My boys--how, where are they?" + +"They are well: both well and happy in our beloved Paris. I am here +with General Michel; sent by the government, with gifts and compliments, +which--" + +"Which we will speak of when I have offered my welcome to these +representatives of the government we all obey," said Toussaint, turning +to the Commissary and the General, and remembering that his emotions as +a father had caused him, for the moment, to lose sight of the business +of the hour. He made himself the usher of the French Commissaries to +the sofa, in front of which he had himself been standing. There he +would have seated Hedouville and General Michel. Hedouville threw +himself down willingly enough; but the newly arrived messenger chose to +stand. + +"I come," said he, "the bearer to you of honours from the Republic, +which I delight to present as the humblest of your servants.--Not a word +of apology for your graceful action of welcome to Brigadier-General +Vincent! What so graceful as the emotions of a parent's heart? I +understand--I am aware--he went out as the guardian of your sons; and +your first welcome was, therefore, due to him. The office of guardian +of your sons is, ought to be, in your eyes, more important, more sacred, +than that of Commissary, or any other. If our national Deliverer--if +the conqueror of Italy--if our First Consul himself were here, he ought +to step back while you embrace the guardian of your sons." + +The party in the piazza saw and heard all. + +"If," said Madame, in a whisper to Genifrede, "if these honours that +they speak of come from Bonaparte--if he has answered your father's +letter, your father will think his happiness complete--now we know that +the boys are well." + +"The First Consul has written, or will write, no doubt," said Aimee. +"It must be pleasant to him as to my father, to greet a brother in +destiny and in glory. Surely General Vincent will come and speak to us; +will tell us of my brothers! He looked this way just now." + +"The First Consul will not write," said Moyse. "He is a white; and +therefore, though a brother in destiny and in glory, he will not notice +the Commander-in-chief of Saint Domingo." + +"You are right, Moyse," said Madame Dessalines. "And it is best so." + +"But that will disappoint my husband very much," said Madame. "He likes +the whites better than you do." + +"He does," said Therese. "But let us listen." + +Hedouville was at the moment exerting himself to introduce his +secretary, Monsieur Pascal. + +"An honoured name," observed Toussaint. + +"And not only in name, but by blood connected with the great man you +refer to," said Hedouville. + +"None are more welcome here," said Toussaint, "than those who bring with +them the honours of piety, of reason, and of science." And he looked +with deep interest upon the countenance of the secretary, which did in +truth show signs of that thoughtfulness and sagacity, though not of the +morbid suffering, which is associated in all minds with the image of the +author of the Provinciales. Monsieur Pascal returned the gaze which was +fixed upon him with one in which intense curiosity was mingled with +doubt, if not fear. His countenance immediately, however, relaxed into +an expression of pleased surprise. During this brief moment, these two +men, so unlike--the elderly, toil-worn negro, and the young, studious +Frenchman--felt that they were friends. + +Monsieur Pascal stepped aside to make way for Monsieur Moliere. + +"Are we to welcome in you," asked Toussaint, "a messenger of mirth to +our society?" + +The group of Frenchmen could scarcely restrain their laughter at this +question. Monsieur Moliere had a most lugubrious countenance--a thing +not always inconsistent with a merry humour: but Monsieur Moliere's +heart was believed never to have laughed, any more than his face. He +answered, as if announcing a misfortune, that he claimed no connection +with the dramatist, though he believed some of his family had attempted +to do so. + +"Monsieur Moliere discharges the duty of a pious descendant, however," +said Vincent. "He laughs himself into such a state of exhaustion every +night over those immortal comedies, that he has to be carried to bed. +That is the reason we see him so grave in the morning." + +"Think of Monsieur Moliere as a trusted secretary of the messenger from +the republic to yourself," said General Michel. + +"I come," said Michel, assuming a pompous tone, "I come associated with +an officer of the republican army, Monsieur Petion--a native of this +colony, but a stranger to yourself." + +Monsieur Petion paid his respects. He was a mulatto, with shy and +reserved manners, and an exceedingly intellectual countenance. + +"We lost you early," said Toussaint; "but only to offer you the warmer +welcome back. It was, as I remember, to attend the military schools of +France that you left your home. Such scholars are welcome here." + +"And particularly," observed Michel, "when they have also had the +fortune to serve in the army of Italy, and immediately under the eye of +the First Consul himself." + +"Is it so? Is it really so?" exclaimed Toussaint. "I can never hear +enough of the ruler of France. Tell us--but that must be hereafter. Do +you come to me from him?" + +"From the government generally," replied Petion. + +An expression of disappointment, very evident to his watchful wife, +passed over the face of Toussaint. + +"There is no letter," she whispered to Genifrede. + +"We bring you from the government," said Michel, "a confirmation of the +dignity of Commander-in-chief of this colony, conferred by Commissary +Santhonax." + +Toussaint bowed, but smiled not. + +"See, he sighs!" said Madame, sighing in echo. + +"These are empty words," said Therese. "They give him only what they +cannot withhold; and at the very moment they surround him with spies." + +"He says," replied Madame, "that Hedouville is sent here `to restrain +his ambition.' Those were the words spoken of him at Paris, where they +will not believe that he has no selfish ambition." + +"They will not believe, because they cannot understand. Their +Commander-in-chief has a selfish ambition; and they cannot imagine that +ours may be a man of a higher sold. But we cannot help it: they are +whites." + +"What a dress--what a beautiful dress!" exclaimed Madame, who almost +condescended to stand fairly in the window, to see the presents now +displayed before her husband by the commissary's servants. + +"These presents," pursued General Michel, while Petion stood aloof, as +if he had no concern in the business--"this dress of embroidered velvet, +and this set of arms, I am to present to you, in the name of the late +Directory of France, in token of their admiration of your services to +the colony." + +Toussaint stretched out his hand for the sword, which he immediately +assumed instead of the one he wore, observing that this sword, like that +which he had now laid aside, should be employed in loyal service to the +republic. As he took no notice of the embroidered dress, it was +conveyed away. + +"Not only in the hall of government," resumed Michel--"but throughout +all Europe, is your name ringing to the skies. A eulogium has been +delivered at the Council of Ancients--" + +"And an oration before the governors of the Military Schools," added +Hedouville. + +"And from Paris," said Pascal, "your reputation has spread along the +shores of the Rhine, and as far north as Saint Petersburg; and in the +south, even to Rome." + +Toussaint's ear caught a low laugh of delight from the piazza, which he +thought fit alone for a husband's ear, and therefore hoped that no one +else had heard. + +"Enough, gentlemen," he said. "Measuring together my deeds and this +applause, I understand the truth. This applause is in fact given to the +powers of the negro race; and not to myself as a soldier or a man. It +belongs not, therefore, to me. For my personal support, one line of a +letter, one word of message, from the chief of our common country, would +be worth the applause of Europe, of which you speak." + +Monsieur Petion produced a sealed packet, which he delivered; and this +seemed to remind General Vincent that he had one too. Toussaint was +unable to refrain from tearing open first one, and then the other, in +the intense hope of receiving some acknowledgment, some greeting from +the "brother in destiny and in glory," who was the idol of his loyal +heart. There was no word from Bonaparte among the first papers; and it +was scarcely possible that there should be in the other packet; yet he +could not keep his eye from it. Other eyes were watching from behind +the jalousies. He cast a glance, a half smile that way; the consequence +of which was that Aimee, forgetting the time, the deputation, the +officers, the whole crowd, sprang into the room, and received the letter +from Isaac, which was the only thing in all that room that she saw. She +disappeared in another moment, followed, however, by General Vincent. + +The father's smile died away from the face of Toussaint, and his brow +darkened, as he caught at a glance the contents of the proclamations +contained in Petion's packet. A glance was enough. Before the eyes of +the company had returned from the window, whither they had followed the +apparition of Aimee, he had folded up the papers. His secretary's hand +was ready to receive them: but Toussaint put them into his bosom. + +"Those proclamations," said Hedouville, rising from the sofa, and +standing by Toussaint's side, "you will immediately publish. You will +immediately exhibit on your colours the words imposed, `Brave blacks, +remember that the French people alone recognise your freedom, and the +legality of your rights!'" + +As the commissary spoke these, words aloud, he looked round upon the +assembled blacks, who, in their turn, all fixed their eyes upon their +chief. Toussaint merely replied that he would give his best attention +to all communications from the government of France. + +"In order," said Hedouville, as if in explanation of a friend's +purposes, "in order to yield implicit obedience to its commands." Then +resuming his seat, he observed to Toussaint, "I believe General Michel +desires some little explanation of certain circumstances attending his +landing at Cap." + +"I do," said General Michel, resuming his solemn air. "You are aware +that General Vincent and I were arrested on landing?" + +"I am aware of it. It was by my instant command that you were set +free." + +"By whose command, or by what error, then, were we arrested?" + +"I hoped that full satisfaction had been afforded you by Monsieur +Raymond, the Governor of Cap Francais. Did he not explain to you that +it was by an impulse of the irritated blacks--an impulse of which they +repent, and to which they will not again yield, proceeding from anger +for which there is but too much cause? As you, however, are not to be +made responsible for the faults of your government towards us, the +offending parties have been amply punished." + +"I," said Hedouville, from the sofa behind, "I am held responsible for +the faults of our government towards you. What are they?" + +"We will discuss them at Cap," replied Toussaint. "There you will be +surrounded by troops of your own colour; and you will feel more at +liberty to open your whole mind to me than, it grieves me to perceive, +you are when surrounded by blacks. When you know the blacks better, you +will become aware that the highest security is found in fully trusting +them." + +"What is it that you suppose we fear from the blacks?" + +"When we are at Cap, I will ask you what it was that you feared, +Monsieur Hedouville, when you chose to land at Saint Domingo, instead of +at Cap--when you showed your mistrust of your fellow-citizens by +selecting the Spanish city for your point of entrance upon our island. +I will then ask you what it is that your government fears, that it +commits the interests of the blacks to a new legislature, which +understands neither their temper nor their affairs." + +"This was, perhaps, the cause of the difficulty we met with at Cap," +observed General Michel. + +"It is the chief cause. Some jealousy on this account is not to be +wondered at; but it has not the less been punished. I would further +ask," he continued, turning again to Hedouville, "what the First Consul +fears, that--" + +"Who ever heard of the First Consul fearing anything?" cried Hedouville, +with a smile. + +"Hear it now, then." + +"In this place?" said Hedouville, looking round. "In public?" + +"In this place--among the most loyal of the citizens of France," replied +Toussaint, casting a proud look round upon his officers and assembled +friends. "If I were about to make complaints of the First Consul, I +would close my doors upon you and myself, and speak in whispers. But it +is known that I honour him, and hold him to my heart, as a brother in +destiny and in glory: though his glory is now at its height, while mine +will not be so till my race is redeemed from the consequences of +slavery, as well as from slavery itself. Still, we are brothers; and I +therefore mourn his fears, shown in the documents that he sends to my +soldiers, and shown no less in his sending none to me." + +"I bring you from him the confirmation of your dignity," observed +General Michel. + +"You do so by message. The honour is received through the ear. But +that which should plant it down into my heart--the greeting from a +brother--is wanting. It cannot be that the First of the Whites has not +time, has not attention, for the First of the Blacks. It is that he +fears--not for himself, but for our country: he fears our ambition, our +revenge. He shall experience, however, that we are loyal--from myself, +his brother, to the mountain child who startles the vulture from the +rocks with his shouts of Bonaparte the Great. To engage our loyalty +before many witnesses," he continued, once more looking round upon the +assemblage, "I send this message through you, in return for that which I +have received. Tell the First Consul that, in the absence of +interference with the existing laws of the colony, I guarantee, under my +personal responsibility, the submission to order, and the devotion to +France, of my black brethren. Mark the condition, gentlemen, which you +will pronounce reasonable. Mark the condition, and you will find happy +results. You will soon see whether I pledge in vain my own +responsibility and your hopes." + +Even while he spoke, in all the fervour of unquestionable sincerity, of +his devotion to France, his French hearers fell that he was virtually a +monarch. The First of the Blacks was not only supreme in this palace, +and throughout the colony; he had entered upon an immortal reign over +all lands trodden by the children of Africa. To the contracted gaze of +the diplomatists present, all might not be visible--the coming ages when +the now prophetic name of L'Ouverture should have become a bright fact +in the history of man, and should be breathed in thanksgiving under the +palm-tree, sung in exultation in the cities of Africa, and embalmed in +the liberties of the Isles of the West:--such a sovereignty as this was +too vast and too distant for the conceptions of Michel and Hedouville to +embrace; but they were impressed with a sense of his power, with a +feeling of the majesty of his influence; and the reverential emotions +which they would fain have shaken off, and which they were afterwards +ashamed of, were at the present moment enhanced by sounds which reached +them from the avenue. There was military music, the firing of salutes, +the murmur of a multitude of voices, and the tramp of horses and of men. + +Toussaint courteously invited the commissaries to witness the +presentation to him, for the interests of France, of the keys of the +cities of the island, late in the possession of Spain, and now ceded to +France by the treaty of Bale. The commissaries could not refuse, and +took their stand on one side of the First of the Blacks, while Paul +L'Ouverture assumed the place of honour on the other hand. + +The apartment was completely filled by the heads of the procession--the +late Governor of the city of Saint Domingo, his officers, the magistracy +of the city, and the heads of the clergy. + +Among these last was a face which Toussaint recognised with strong +emotion. The look which he cast upon Laxabon, the gesture of greeting +which he offered, caused Don Alonzo Dovaro to turn round to discover +whose presence there could be more imposing to the Commander-in-chief +than his own. The flushed countenance of the priest marked him out as +the man. + +Don Alonzo Dovaro ordered the keys to be brought, and addressed himself +in Spanish to Toussaint. Toussaint did not understand Spanish, and knew +that the Spaniard, could speak French. The Spaniard, however, chose to +deliver up a Spanish city in no other language than that of his nation. +Father Laxabon stepped forward eagerly, with an offer to be interpreter. +It was an opportunity he was too thankful to embrace--a most favourable +means of surmounting the awkwardness of renewed intercourse with one, by +whom their last conversation could not be supposed to be forgotten. + +"This is well--this fulfilment of the treaty of Bale," said Toussaint. +"But it would have been better if the fulfilment had been more prompt. +The time for excuses and apologies is past. I merely say, as sincerity +requires, that the most speedy fulfilment of treaties is ever the most +honourable; and that I am guiltless of such injury as may have arisen +from calling off ten thousand blacks from the peaceful pursuits of +agriculture and commerce, to march them to the gates of Saint Domingo. +You, the authorities of the city, compelled me to lead them there, in +enforcement of the claims of France. If warlike thoughts have sprung up +in those ten thousand minds, the responsibility is not mine. I wish +that nothing but peace should be in the hearts of men of all races. +Have you wishes to express, in the name of the citizens? Show me how I +can gratify them." + +"Don Alonzo Dovaro explains," said the interpreter, "that it will be +acceptable to the Spanish inhabitants that you take the customary oath, +in the name of the Holy Trinity, respecting the government of their +whole region." + +"It is indeed a holy duty. What is the purport of the oath?" + +"In the name of the Holy Trinity, to govern wisely and well." + +"Has there lived a Christian man who would take that oath?" + +"Every governor of the Spanish colony in this island, from Diego, the +brother of Columbus, to this day." + +"What is human wisdom," said Toussaint, "that a man should swear that he +will be always wise? What is human virtue, that he should pledge his +salvation on governing well? I dare not take the oath." + +The Spaniards showed that they understood French by the looks they cast +upon each other, before Laxabon could complete his version. + +"This, however, will I do," said Toussaint. "I will meet you to-morrow, +at the great church in Port-au-Prince, and there bind myself before the +altar, before the God who hears me now, on behalf of your people, to be +silent on the past, and to employ my vigilance and my toils in rendering +happy the Spanish people, now become my fellow-citizens of France." + +A profusion of obeisances proved that this was satisfactory. The late +governor of the city took from one of his officers the velvet cushion on +which were deposited the keys of Saint Domingo, and transferred it to +the hands of the Commander-in-chief. At the moment, there was an +explosion of cannon from the terrace on which stood the town; the bells +rang in all the churches; and bursts of military music spread over the +calm bay, with the wreaths of white smoke from the guns. The flamingoes +took flight again from the strand; the ships moved in their anchorage; +the shouts of the people arose from the town, and those of the soldiery +from the square of the great avenue. Their idol, their Ouverture, was +now in command of the whole of the most beautiful of the isles of the +west. + +As soon as he could be heard, Toussaint introduced his brother to the +Spaniards. Placing the cushion containing the keys upon the table, and +laying his hand upon the keys, he declared his intention of giving to +the inhabitants of the city of Saint Domingo a pledge of the merciful +and gentle character of the government under which they were henceforth +to live, in the person of the new governor, Paul L'Ouverture, who had +never been known to remember unkindness from day-to-day. The new +governor would depart for the east of the island on the morrow, from the +door of the church, at the close of the celebration. + +The levee was now over. Spanish, French, and the family and guests of +the Commander-in-chief, were to meet at a banquet in the evening. +Meantime, Toussaint and his brother stepped out together upon the +northern piazza, and the room was cleared. + +"I wish," said Paul, "that you had appointed any one but me to be +governor of that city. How should a poor negro fisherman like me govern +a city?" + +"You speak like a white, Paul. The whites say of me, `How should a poor +negro postillion govern a colony?' You must do as I do--show that a +negro can govern." + +"But Heaven made you for a ruler." + +"Who thought so while I was yet a slave? As for you--I know not what +you can do till you have tried; nor do you. I own that you are not the +man I should have appointed, if I had had a choice among all kinds of +men." + +"Then look around for some other." + +"There is no other, on the whole, so little unfit as you. Henri must +remain in the field while Rigaud is in arms. Jacques--" + +"Ay, Dessalines--and he might have a court--such a wife as he would +carry." + +"Dessalines must not govern a city of whites. He hates the whites. His +passion of hatred would grow with power; and the Spaniards would be +wretched. They are now under my protection. I must give them a +governor who cannot hate; and therefore I send you. Your love of our +people and of me, my brother, will rouse you to exertion and +self-denial. For the rest you shall have able counsellors on the spot. +For your private guidance, I shall be ever at your call. Confide wholly +in me, and your appeal shall never be unanswered." + +"You shall be governor, then. I will wear the robes, and your head +shall do the work. I will amuse the inhabitants with water-parties, and +you--" + +"No more of this!" said Toussaint, somewhat sternly. "It seems that you +are unwilling to do your part of the great duty of our age and our race. +Heaven has appointed you the opportunity of showing that blacks are +men--fit to govern as to serve;--and you would rather sleep in the +sunshine than listen to the message from the sky. My own brother does +what he can to deepen the brand on the forehead of the negro!" + +"I am ashamed, brother," said Paul, "I am not like you; but yet I will +do what I can. I will go to-morrow, and try whether I can toil as you +do. There is one thing I can do which Henri, and Jacques, and even you, +cannot;--I can speak Spanish." + +"You have discovered one of your qualifications, dear Paul. You will +find more. Will you take Moyse with you?" + +"Let it be a proof that I can deny myself, that I leave my son with you. +Moyse is passionate." + +"I know it," said Toussaint. + +"He governs both his love and his hatred before you, while with me he +indulges them. He must remain with you, in order to command his +passions. He inherited them from me; and I must thus far help him to +master them. You are all-powerful with him. I have no power." + +"You mean that Genifrede and I together are all-powerful with him. I +believe it is so." + +"To you, then, I commit him. Moyse is henceforth your son." + +"As Genifrede is your daughter, Paul. If I die before the peace of the +island is secured, there are two duties which I assign to you--to +support the spirit of the blacks, and to take my Genifrede for your +daughter. The rest of my family love each other, and the world we live +in. She loves only Moyse." + +"She is henceforth my child. But when will you marry them?" + +"When Moyse shall have done some act to distinguish himself--for which +he shall not want opportunity. I have a higher duty than that to my +family--it is my duty to call out all the powers of every black. Moyse +must therefore prove what he can do, before he can marry his love. For +him, however, this is an easy condition." + +"I doubt not you are right, brother; but it is well for me that the days +of my love are past." + +"Not so, Paul. The honour of your race must now be your love. For this +you must show what you can do." + +They had paced the northern piazza while conversing. They now turned +into the eastern, where they came upon the lovers, who were standing +half shrouded by creeping plants--Moyse's arm round Genifrede's waist, +and Genifrede's head resting on her lover's shoulder. The poor girl was +sobbing violently, while Moyse was declaring that he would marry her, +with or without consent, and carry her with him, if he was henceforth to +live in the east of the island. + +"Patience, foolish boy!" cried his father. "You go not with me. I +commit you to my brother. You will stay with him, and yield him the +duty of a son--a better duty than we heard you planning just now." + +"As soon as you prove yourself worthy, you shall be my son indeed," said +Toussaint. "I have heard your plans of marriage. You shall hear mine. +I will give you opportunities of distinguishing yourself, in the +services of the city and of the field. After the first act which proves +you worthy of responsibility, I will give you Genifrede. As a free man, +can you desire more?" + +"I am satisfied--I am grateful," said Moyse. "I believe I spoke some +hasty words just now; but we supposed I was to be sent among the +whites--and I had so lately returned from the south--and Genifrede was +so wretched!" + +Genifrede threw herself on her father's bosom, with broken words of love +and gratitude. It was the first time she had ever voluntarily +approached so near him; and she presently drew back, and glanced in his +face with timid awe. + +"My Genifrede! My child!" cried Toussaint, in a rapture of pleasure at +this loosening of the heart. He drew her towards him, folded his arms +about her, kissed the tears from her cheek, and hushed her sobs, saying, +in a low voice which touched her very soul-- + +"He can do great deeds, Genifrede. He is yours, my child; but we shall +all be proud of him." + +She looked up once more, with a countenance so radiant, that Toussaint +carried into all the toils and observance of the day the light heart of +a happy father. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +Note 1. I have to acknowledge that injustice is done in this work to +the character of General Vincent. The writer of historical fiction is +under that serious liability, in seizing on a few actual incidents, +concerning a subordinate personage, that he makes himself responsible +for justice to the whole character of the individual whose name he +introduces into his story. Under this liability I have been unjust to +Vincent, as Scott was to Edward Christian, in "Peveril of the Peak," and +Campbell to Brandt, in "Gertrude of Wyoming." Like them, I am anxious +to make reparation on the first opportunity. It is true that in my +Appendix I avowed that Vincent was among those of my personages whose +name alone I adopted, without knowing his character; but such an +explanation in an appendix does not counteract the impression already +made by the work. Finding this, I had thoughts of changing the name in +the present edition; but I feared the character being still identified +with Vincent, from its being fact that it was Vincent who accompanied +Toussaint's sons to Paris, and returned with the deputation, as I have +represented; I think it best, therefore, to say here that, from all I +can learn, General Vincent was an honourable and useful man, and that +the delineation of character under that name in my book is purely +fictitious. The following extract from Clarkson's pamphlet on Negro +Improvement will show in what estimation General Vincent is held by one +whose testimony is of the highest value:-- + +"The next witness to whom I shall appeal is the estimable General +Vincent, who now lives at Paris, though at an advanced age. He was a +Colonel, and afterwards a General of Brigade of Artillery in Saint +Domingo. He was detained there during the time both of Santhonax and +Toussaint. He was also a proprietor of estates in the island. He was +the man who planned the renovation of its agriculture after the +abolition of slavery, and one of the great instruments in bringing it to +the perfection mentioned by La Croix. In the year 1801 he was called +upon by Toussaint to repair to Paris, to lay before the Directory the +new Constitution, which had been agreed on in Saint Domingo. He obeyed +the summons. It happened that he arrived in France just at the moment +of the Peace of Amiens. Here he found, to his inexpressible surprise +and grief, that Bonaparte was preparing an immense armament, under +Leclerc, to restore slavery in Saint Domingo. He remonstrated against +the expedition: he told him to his face that though the army destined +for this purpose was composed of the brilliant conquerors of Europe, +they could do nothing in the Antilles. He stated, as another argument +against the expedition, that it was totally unnecessary, and, therefore, +criminal; for that everything was going on well in Saint Domingo; the +proprietors in peaceable possession of their estates, cultivation making +rapid progress, the Blacks industrious, and beyond example happy." + + + +CHAPTER ELEVEN. + +L'ETOILE AND ITS PEOPLE. + +One radiant day of the succeeding spring, a party was seen in the plain +of Cul-de-Sac, moving with such a train as showed that one of the +principal families of the island was travelling. Rigaud and his forces +were so safely engaged in the south, that the plain was considered +secure from their incursions. Port-au-Prince, surrounded on three sides +by hills, was now becoming so hot, that such of its inhabitants as had +estates in the country were glad to retire to them, as soon as the roads +were declared safe; and among these were the family of the +Commander-in-Chief, who, with tutors, visitors, and attendants, formed +the group seen in the Cul-de-Sac this day. They were removing to their +estate of Pongaudin, on the shores of the bay of Gonaves, a little to +the north of the junction of the Artibonite with the sea; but instead of +travelling straight and fast, they intended to make a three days' +journey of what might have been accomplished in less than two--partly +for the sake of the pleasure of the excursion, and partly to introduce +their friends from Europe to some of the beauties of the most beautiful +island in the world. + +Madame L'Ouverture had had presents of European carriages, in which she +did not object to take airings in the towns and their neighbourhood; but +nowhere else were the roads in a state to bear such heavy vehicles. In +the sandy bridle-paths they would have sunk half their depth; in the +green tracks they would have been caught in thickets of brambles and low +boughs; while many swamps occurred which could be crossed only by single +horses, accustomed to pick their way in uncertain ground. The ladies of +the colony, therefore, continued, as in all time past, to take their +journeys on horseback, each attended by some one--a servant, if there +were neither father, brother, nor lover--to hold the umbrella over her +during rain, or the more oppressive hours of sunshine. + +The family of L'Ouverture had left the palace early, and were bound, for +an estate in the middle of the plain, where they intended to rest, +either till evening, or till the next morning, as inclination might +determine. As their train, first of horses, and then of mules, passed +along, now under avenues of lofty palms, which constituted a deep, moist +shade in the midst of the glare of the morning--now across fields of +sward, kept green by the wells which were made to overflow them; and now +through swamps where the fragrant flowering reeds reached up to the +flanks of the horses, and courted the hands of the riders, the +inhabitants of the region watched their progress, and gave them every +variety of kindly greeting. The mother who was sitting at work under +the tamarind-tree called her children down from its topmost branches to +do honour to the travellers. Many a half-naked negro in the +rice-grounds slipped from the wet plank on which, while gazing, he +forgot his footing, and laughed his welcome from out of the mud and +slime. The white planters who were taking their morning ride over their +estates, bent to the saddle-bow, the large straw hat in hand, and would +not cover their heads from the hot sun till the ladies had passed. +These planters' wives and daughters, seated at the shaded windows, or in +the piazzas of their houses, rose and curtsied deep to the ladies +L'Ouverture. Many a little black head rose dripping from the clear +waters, gleaming among the reeds, where negro children love to watch the +gigantic dragon-flies of the tropics creeping from their sheaths, and to +catch them as soon as they spread their gauzy wings, and exhibit their +gem-like bodies to the sunlight. Many a group of cultivators in the +cane-grounds grasped their arms, on hearing the approach of numbers-- +taught thus by habitual danger--but swung back the gun across the +shoulder, or tucked the pistol again into the belt, at sight of the +ladies; and then ran to the road-side to remove any fancied obstruction +in the path; or, if they could do no more, to smile a welcome. It was +observable that, in every case, there was an eager glance, in the first +place, of search for L'Ouverture himself; but when it was seen that he +was not there, there was still all the joy that could be shown where he +was not. + +The whole country was full of song. As Monsieur Loisir, the architect +from Paris, said to Genifrede, it appeared as if vegetation itself went +on to music. The servants of their own party sang in the rear; Moyse +and Denis, and sometimes Denis' sisters, sang as they rode; and if there +was not song already on the track, it came from behind every flowering +hedge--from the crown of the cocoa-nut tree--from the window of the +cottage. The sweet wild note of the mocking-bird was awakened in its +turn; and from the depths of the tangled woods, where it might defy the +human eye and hand, it sent forth its strain, shrill as the thrush, more +various than the nightingale, and sweeter than the canary. But for the +bird, the Spanish painter, Azua, would have supposed that all this music +was the method of reception of the family by the peasantry; but, on +expressing his surprise to Aimee, she answered that song was as natural +to Saint Domingo, when freed, as the light of sun or stars, when there +were no clouds in the sky. The heart of the negro was, she said, as +naturally charged with music as his native air with fragrance. If you +dam up his mountain-streams, you have, instead of fragrance, poison and +pestilence; and if you chain up the negro's life in slavery, you have, +for music, wailing and curses. Give both free course, and you have an +atmosphere of spicy odours, and a universal spirit of song. + +"This last," said Azua, "is as one long, but varied, ode in honour of +your father. Men of some countries would watch him as a magician, after +seeing the wonders he has wrought. Who, looking over this wide level, +on which plenty seems to have emptied her horn, would believe how lately +and how thoroughly it was ravaged by war?" + +"There seems to be magic in all that is made," said Aimee; "so that all +are magicians who have learned to draw it forth. Monsieur Loisir was +showing us yesterday how the lightning may now be brought down from the +thunder-cloud, and carried into the earth at some given spot. Our +servants, who have yearly seen the thunderbolt fire the cottage or the +mill, tremble, and call the lightning-rods magic. My father is a +magician of the same sort, except that he deals with a deeper and higher +magic." + +"That which lies in men's hearts--in human passions." + +"In human affections; by which he thinks more in the end is done than by +their passions." + +"Did you learn this from himself?" asked Azua, who listened with much +surprise and curiosity to this explanation from the girl by whose side +he rode. "Does your father explain to you his views of men, and his +purposes with regard to them?" + +"There is no need," she replied. "From the books he has always read, we +know what he thinks of men's minds and ways: and from what happens, we +learn his purposes; for my father always fulfils his purposes." + +"And who led you to study his books, and observe his purposes?" + +"My brother Isaac." + +"One of those who is studying at Paris? Does he make you study here, +while he is being educated there?" + +"No; he does not make me study. But I know what he is doing--I have +books--Isaac and I were always companions--He learns from me what my +father does--But I was going to tell you, when you began asking about my +father, that this plain will not appear to you throughout so, +flourishing as it does now, from the road. When we reach the Etoile +estate, you will see enough of the ravages of war." + +"I have perceived some signs of desertion in a house or two that we have +passed," said Azua. "But these brothers of yours--when will they +return?" + +"Indeed I wish I knew," sighed Aimee. "I believe that depends on the +First Consul." + +"The First Consul has so much to do, it is a pity their return should +depend upon his memory. If he should forgot, you will go and see Paris, +and bring your brothers home." + +"The First Consul forgets nothing," replied Aimee. "He knows and heeds +all that we do here, at the distance of almost half the world. He never +forgets my brothers: he is very kind to them." + +"All that you say is true," said Vincent, who was now on the other side +of Aimee. "Everything that you can say in praise of the First Consul is +true. But yet you should go and see Paris. You do not know what Paris +is--you do not know what your brothers are like in Paris--especially +Isaac. He tells you, no doubt, how happy he is there?" + +"He does; but I had rather see him here." + +"You have fine scenery here, no doubt, and a climate which you enjoy: +but there! what streets and palaces--what theatres--what libraries and +picture-galleries--and what society!" + +"Is it not true, however," said Azua, "that all the world is alike to +her where her brother is?" + +"This is L'Etoile," said Aimee. "Of all the country houses in the +island, this was, not perhaps the grandest, but the most beautiful. It +is now ruined; but we hear that enough remains for Monsieur Loisir to +make out the design." + +She turned to Vincent, and told him that General Christophe was about to +build a house; and that he wished it to be on the model of L'Etoile, as +it was before the war. Monsieur Loisir was to furnish the design. + +The Europeans of the party were glad to be told that they had nearly +arrived at their resting place; for they could scarcely sit their +horses, while toiling in the heat through the deep sand of the road. +They had left far behind them both wood and swamp; and, though the +mansion seemed to be embowered in the green shade, they had to cross +open ground to reach it. At length Azua, who had sunk into a despairing +silence, cried out with animation-- + +"Ha! the opuntia! what a fence! what a wall!" + +"You may know every deserted house in the plain," said Aimee, "by the +cactus hedge round it." + +"What ornament can the inhabited mansion have more graceful, more +beautiful?" said Azua, forgetting the heat in his admiration of the +blossoms, some red, some snow-white, some blush-coloured, which were +scattered in profusion over the thick and high cactus hedge which barred +the path. + +"Nothing can be more beautiful," said Aimee, "but nothing more +inconvenient. See, you are setting your horse's feet into a trap." And +she pointed to the stiff, prickly green shoots which matted all the +ground. "We must approach by some other way. Let us wait till the +servants have gone round." + +With the servants appeared a tall and very handsome negro, well-known +throughout the island for his defence of the Etoile estate against +Rigaud. Charles Bellair was a Congo chief, kidnapped in his youth, and +brought into Saint Domingo slavery; in which state he had remained long +enough to keep all his detestation for slavery, without losing his +fitness for freedom. He might have returned, ere this, to Africa, or he +might have held some military office under Toussaint; but he preferred +remaining on the estate which he had partly saved from devastation, +bringing up his little children to revere and enthusiastically obey the +Commander-in-chief--the idol of their colour. The heir of the Etoile +estate did not appear, nor transmit his claim. Bellair, therefore, and +two of his former fellow bondsmen, cultivated the estate, paying over +the fixed proportion of the produce to the public funds. + +Bellair hastened to lead Madame L'Ouverture's horse round to the other +side of the house, where no prickly vegetation was allowed to encroach. +His wife was at work and singing to her child under the shadow of the +colonnade--once an erection of great beauty, but now blackened by fire, +and at one end crumbling into ruins. + +"Minerve!" cried Madame, on seeing her. + +"Deesha is her name," said Bellair, smiling. + +"Oh, you call her by her native name! Would we all knew our African +names, as you know hers! Deesha!" + +Deesha hastened forward, all joy and pride at being the hostess of the +Ouverture family. Eagerly she led the way into the inhabited part of +the abode--a corner of the palace-like mansion--a corner well covered in +from the weather, and presenting a strange contrast of simplicity and +luxury. + +The courtyard through which they passed was strewed with ruins, which, +however, were almost entirely concealed by the brushwood, through which +only a lane was kept cleared for going in and out. The whole was +shaded, almost as with an awning, by the shrubs which grew from the +cornices, and among the rafters which had remained where the roof once +was. Ropes of creepers hung down the wall, so twisted, and of so long a +growth, that Denis had climbed half-way up the building by means of this +natural ladder, when he was called back again. The jalousies were +decayed--starting away from their hinges, or hanging in fragments; while +the window-sills were gay with flowering weeds, whose seeds even took +root in the joints of the flooring within, open as it was to the air and +the dew. The marble steps and entrance-hall were kept clear of weeds +and dirt, and had a strange air of splendour in the midst of the +desolation. The gilding of the balustrades of the hall was tarnished; +and it had no furniture but the tatters of some portraits, whose frame +and substance had been nearly devoured by ants; but it was weather-tight +and clean. The saloon to the right constituted the family dwelling. +Part of its roof had been repaired with a thatch of palm-leaves, which +formed a singular junction with the portion of the ceiling which +remained, and which exhibited a blue sky-ground, with gilt stars. An +alcove had been turned into the fireplace, necessary for cooking. The +kitchen corner was partitioned off from the sitting-room by a splendid +folding screen of Oriental workmanship, exhibiting birds-of-paradise, +and the blue rivers and gilt pagodas of China. The other partitions +were the work of Bellair's own hands, woven of bamboo and long grass, +dyed with the vegetable dyes, with whose mysteries he was, like a true +African, acquainted. The dinner-table was a marble slab, which still +remained cramped to the wall, as when it had been covered with plate, or +with ladies' work-boxes. The seats were benches, hewn by Bellair's axe. +On the shelves and dresser of unpainted wood were ranged together +porcelain dishes from Dresden, and calabashes from the garden; wooden +spoons, and knives with enamelled handles. A harp, with its strings +broken, and its gilding tarnished, stood in one corner; and musical +instruments of Congo origin hung against the wall. It was altogether a +curious medley of European and African civilisation, brought together +amidst the ruins of a West Indian revolution. + +The young people did not remain long in the house, however tempting its +coolness might have appeared. At one side of the mansion was the +colonnade, which engrossed the architect's attention; on the other +bloomed the garden, offering temptations which none could resist--least +of all those who were lovers. Moyse and his Genifrede stepped first to +the door which looked out upon the wilderness of flowers, and were soon +lost sight of among the shrubs. + +Genifrede had her sketch-book in her hand. She and her sister were here +partly for the sake of a drawing lesson from Azua; and perhaps she had +some idea of taking a sketch during this walk with Moyse. He snatched +the book from her, however, and flung it through the window of a +garden-house which they passed, saying-- + +"You can draw while I am away. For this hour you are all my own." + +"And when will you be away? Wherever you go, I will follow you. If we +once part, we shall not meet again." + +"We think so, and we say so, each time that we part; and yet we meet +again. Once more, only the one time when I am to distinguish myself, to +gain you--only that once will we be parted; and then we will be happy +for over." + +"Then you will be killed--or you will be sent to France, or you will +love some one else and forget me--" + +"Forgot you!--love some one else! Oh! Heaven and earth!" cried Moyse, +clasping her in his arms, and putting his whole soul into the kisses he +impressed on her forehead. "And what," he continued, in a voice which +thrilled her heart, "what would you do if I were killed?" + +"I would die. Oh, Moyse! if it should be so, wait for me! Let your +spirit wait for mine! It shall not be long." + +"Shall my spirit come--shall I come as a ghost, to tell you that I am +dead? Shall I come when you are alone, and call you away?" + +"Oh! no, no!" she cried, shuddering. "I will follow--you need not fear. +But a ghost--oh! no, no!" And she looked up at him, and clasped him +closer. + +"And why?" said Moyse. "You do not fear me now--you cling to me. And +why fear me then? I shall be yours still. I shall be Moyse. I shall +be about you, haunting you, whether you see and hear me or not. Why not +see and hear me?" + +"Why not?" said Genifrede, in a tone of assent. "But I dare not--I will +not. You shall not die. Do not speak of it." + +"It was not I, but you, love, that spoke of it. Well, I will not die. +But tell me--if I forget you--if I love another--what then?" And he +looked upon her with eyes so full of love, that she laughed, and +withdrew herself from his arms, saying, as she sauntered on along the +blossom-strewn path-- + +"Then I will forget you too." + +Moyse lingered for a moment, to watch her stately form, as she made a +pathway for herself amidst the tangled shrubs. The walk, once a +smooth-shaven turf, kept green by trenches of water, was now overgrown +with the vegetation which encroached on either hand. As the dark beauty +forced her way, the maypole-aloe shook its yellow crown of flowers, many +feet above her head; the lilac jessamine danced before her face; and the +white datura, the pink flower-fence, and the scarlet cordia, closed +round her form, or spread themselves beneath her feet. Her lover was +soon again by her side, warding off every branch and spray, and saying-- + +"The very flowers worship you: but they and all--all must yield you to +me. You are mine; and yet not mine till I have won you from your +father. Genifrede, how shall I distinguish myself? Show me the way, +and I shall succeed." + +"Do not ask me," she replied, sighing. + +"Nay, whom should I ask?" + +"I never desired you to distinguish yourself." + +"You do not wish it?" + +"No." + +"Not for your sake?" + +"No." + +And she looked around her with wistful eyes, in which her lover read a +wish that things would ever remain as they were now--that this moment +would never pass away. + +"You would remain here--you would hide yourself here with me for ever!" +cried the happy Moyse. + +"Here, or anywhere;--in the cottage at Breda;--in your father's hut on +the shore;--anywhere, Moyse, where there is nothing to dread. I live in +fear; and I am wretched." + +"What is it that you fear, love? Why do you not trust, me to protect +you?" + +"Then I fear for you, which is worse. Why cannot we live in the woods +or the mountains, where there would be no dangerous duties, and no +cares?" + +"And if we lived in the woods, you would be more terrified still. There +would never be a falling star, but your heart would sink. You would +take the voices of the winds for the spirits of the woods, and the +mountain mists for ghosts. Then, there are the tornado and the +thunderbolt. When you saw the trees crashing, you would be for making +haste back to the plain. Whenever you heard the rock rolling and +bounding down the steep, or the cataract rising and roaring in the midst +of the tempest, you would entreat me to fly to the city. It is in this +little beating heart that the fear lies." + +"What then is to be done?" + +"This little heart must beat yet a while longer; and then, when I have +once come back, it shall rest upon mine for ever." + +"Beside my father? He never rests. Your father would leave us in +peace; but he has committed you to one who knows not what rest is." + +"Nor ever will," said Moyse. "If he closed his eyes, if he relaxed his +hand, we should all be sunk in ruin." + +"We? Who? What ruin?" + +"The whole negro race. Do you suppose the whites are less cruel than +they were? Do you believe that their thirst for our humiliation, our +slavery, is quenched? Do you believe that the white man's heart is +softened by the generosity and forgiveness of the blacks?" + +"My father believes so," replied Genifrede; "and do they not adore him-- +the whites whom he has reinstated? Do they not know that they owe to +him their lives, their homes, the prosperity of the island? Does he not +trust the whites? Does he not order all things for their good, from +reverence and affection for them?" + +"Yes, he does," replied Moyse, in a tone which made Genifrede anxiously +explore his countenance. + +"You think him deceived?" she said. + +"No, I do not. It is not easy to deceive L'Ouverture." + +"You do not think--no, you cannot think, that he deceives the whites, or +any one." + +"No. L'Ouverture deceives no one. As you say, he reveres the whites. +He reveres them for their knowledge. He says they are masters of an +intellectual kingdom from which we have been shut out, and they alone +can let us in. And then again.--Genifrede, it seems to me that he loves +best those who have most injured him." + +"Not best," she replied. "He delights to forgive: but what white has he +ever loved as he loves Henri? Did he ever look upon any white as he +looked upon me, when--when he consented? Moyse, you remember?" + +"I do. But still he loves the whites as if they were born, and had +lived and died, our friends, as he desires they should be. Yet more--he +expects and requires that all his race should love them too." + +"And you do not?" said Genifrede, timidly. + +"I abhor them." + +"Oh! hush! hush! Speak lower. Does my father know this?" + +"Why should he? If he once knew it--" + +"Nay, if he knew it, he would give up his purposes of distinction for +you; and we might live here, or on the shore." + +"My Genifrede, though I hate the whites, I love the blacks. I love your +father. The whites will rise upon us at home, as they are always +scheming against us in France, if we are not strong and as watchful as +we are strong. If I and others leave L'Ouverture alone to govern, and +betake ourselves to the woods and the mountains, the whites will again +be masters, and you and I, my Genifrede, shall be slaves. But you shall +not be a slave, Genifrede," he continued, soothing her tremblings at the +idea. "The bones of the whites shall be scattered over the island, like +the shells on the sea-shore, before my Genifrede shall be a slave. I +will cut the throat of every infant at every white mother's breast, +before any one of that race shall lay his grasp upon you. The whites +never will, never shall again, be masters: but then, it must be by +L'Ouverture having an army always at his command; and of that army I +must be one of the officers. We cannot live here, or on the sea-shore, +love, while there are whites who may be our masters. So, while I am +away, you must pray Christ to humble the whites. Will you? This is all +you can do. Will you not?" + +"How can I, when my father is always exalting them?" + +"You must choose between him and me. Love the whites with him, or hate +them with me." + +"But you love my father. Moyse?" + +"I do. I adore him as the saviour of the blacks. You adore him, +Genifrede. Every one of our race worships him. Genifrede, you love +him--your father." + +"I know not--Yes, I loved him the other day. I know not, Moyse. I know +nothing but that--I will hate the whites as you do. I never loved them: +now I hate them." + +"You shall. I will tell you things of them that will make you curse +them. I know every white man's heart." + +"Then tell my father." + +"Does he not know enough already? Is not his cheek furrowed with the +marks of the years during which the whites were masters; and is there +any cruelty, any subtlety, in them that he does not understand? Knowing +all this, he curses, not them, but the flower which, he says, corrupted +them. He keeps from them this power, and believes that all will be +well. I shall tell him nothing." + +"Yes, tell him all--all except--" + +"Yes, and tell me first," cried a voice near at hand. There was a great +rustling among the bushes, and Denis appeared, begging particularly to +know what they were talking about. They, in return, begged to be told +what brought him this way, to interrupt their conversation. + +"Deesha says Juste is out after wild-fowl, and, most likely, among some +of the ponds hereabouts." + +"One would think you had lived in Cap all your days," said Moyse. "Do +you look for wild-fowl in a garden?" + +"We will see presently," said the boy, thrusting himself into the +thicket in the direction of the ponds, and guiding himself by the scent +of the blossoming reeds--so peculiar as to be known among the many with +which the air was filled. He presently beckoned to his sister; and she +followed with Moyse, till they found themselves in the field where there +had once been several fish-ponds, preserved in order with great care. +All were now dried up but two; and the whole of the water being diverted +to the service of these two, they were considerable in extent and in +depth. What the extent really was, it was difficult to ascertain at the +first glance, so hidden was the margin with reeds, populous with +wild-fowl. + +Denis was earnestly watching these fowl, as he lay among the high grass +at some little distance from the water, and prevented his companions +from approaching any nearer. The sun was hot, and Genifrede was not +long in desiring to return to the garden. + +"Let us go back," said she. "Juste is not here." + +"Yes he is," said Denis. "However, go back if you like. I shall go +fowling with Juste." And he began to strip off his clothes. + +His companions were of opinion, however, that a son of the +Commander-in-chief must not sport with a farmer's boy, without leave of +parents or tutor; and they begged him to put on his clothes again, at +least till leave was asked. Denis had never cared for his rank, except +when riding by his father's side on review-days; and now he liked it +less than ever, as the pond lay gleaming before him, the fowl sailing +and fluttering on the surface, and his dignity prevented his going among +them. + +"What makes you say that Juste is here?" said Genifrede. + +"I have seen him take five fowl in the last five minutes." + +As he spoke, he plucked the top of a bulrush, and threw it with such +good aim, that it struck a calabash which appeared to be floating among +others on the surface of the pond. That particular calabash immediately +rose, and the face of a negro child appeared, to the consternation of +the fowl, whose splashing and screaming might be heard far and wide. +Juste came out of the water, displaying at his belt the result of his +sport. He had, as Denis had said, taken five ducks in five minutes by +pulling them under the water by the feet, while lying near them with his +head covered by the calabash. The little fellow was not satisfied with +the admiration of the beholders; he ran homewards, with his clothes in +his hand, Denis at his heels, and his game dangling from his waist, and +dripping as he ran. + +"Many a white would shudder to see that child," said Moyse, as Juste +disappeared. "That is the way Jean's blacks wore their trophies during +the first days of the insurrection." + +"Trophies!" said Genifrede. "You mean heads: heads with their trailing +hair;" and her face worked with horror as she spoke. "But it is not for +the whites to shudder, after what they did to Oge, and have done to many +a negro since." + +"But they think we do not feel as they do." + +"Not feel! O Christ! If any one of them had my heart before I knew +you--in those days at Breda, when Monsieur Bayou used to come down to +us!" + +"Here comes that boy again," cried Moyse. "Let us go into the thicket, +among the citrons." + +Denis found them, however--found Moyse gathering the white and purple +blossoms for Genifrede, while she was selecting the fruit of most +fragrant rind from the same tree, to carry into the house. + +"You must come in--you must come to dinner," cried Denis. "Aimee has +had a drawing lesson, while you have been doing nothing all this while. +They said you were sketching; but I told them how idle you were." + +"I will go back with Denis," said Genifrede. "You threw away my +sketch-book, Moyse. You may find it, and follow us." + +Their path lay together as far as the garden-house. When there, Moyse +seized Denis unawares, shot him through the window into the house, and +left him to get out as he might, and bring the book. The boy was so +long in returning, that his sister became uneasy, lest some snake or +other creature should have detained him in combat. She was going to +leave the table in search of him, because Moyse would not, when he +appeared, singing, and with the book upon his head. + +"Who calls Genifrede idle?" cried he, flourishing the book. "Look +here!" And he exhibited a capital sketch of herself and Moyse, as he +had found them, gathering fruits and flowers. + +"Can it be his own?" whispered Genifrede to her lover. + +Denis nodded and laughed, while Azua gravely criticised and approved, +without suspicion that the sketch was by no pupil of his own. + +In the cool evening, Genifrede was really no longer idle. While Denis +and Juste were at play, they both at once stumbled and fell over +something in the long grass, which proved to be a marble statue of a +Naiad, lying at length. Moyse seized it, and raised it where it was +relieved by a dark green back-ground. The artist declared it an +opportunity for a lesson which was not to be lost: and the girls began +to draw, as well as they could for the attempts of the boys to restore +the broken urn to the arm from which it had fallen. When Denis and +Juste found that they could not succeed, and were only chidden for being +in the way, they left the drawing party seated under their clump of +cocoa-nut trees, and went to hear what Madame was relating to Bellair +and Deesha, in the hearing of Monsieur Moliere, Laxabon, and Vincent. +Her narration was one which Denis had often heard, but was never tired +of listening to. She was telling of the royal descent of her husband-- +how he was grandson of Gaou Guinou, the king of the African tribe of +Arrudos: how this king's second son was taken in battle, and sold, with +other prisoners of war, into slavery: how he married an African girl on +the Breda estate, and used to talk of home and its wars, and its haunts, +and its sunshine idleness--how he used thus to talk in the evenings, and +on Sundays, to the boy upon his knee; so that Toussaint felt, from his +infancy, like an African, and the descendant of chiefs. This was a +theme which Madame L'Ouverture loved to dwell on, and especially when +listened to as now. The Congo chief and his wife hung upon her words, +and told in their turn how their youth had been spent at home--how they +had been kidnapped, and delivered over to the whites. In the eagerness +of their talk, they were perpetually falling unconsciously into the use +of their negro language, and as often recalled by their hearers to that +which all could understand. Moliere and Laxabon listened earnestly; and +even Loisir, occupied as he was still with the architecture of the +mansion, found himself impatient if he lost a word of the story. +Vincent alone, negro as he was, was careless and unmoved. He presently +sauntered away, and nobody missed him. + +He looked over the shoulder of the architect. + +"What pains you are taking!" he said. "You have only to follow your own +fancy and convenience about Christophe's house. Christophe has never +been to France. Tell him, or any others of my countrymen, that any +building you choose to put up is European, and in good taste, and they +will be quite pleased enough." + +"You are a sinner," said Loisir; "but be quiet now." + +"Nay--do not you find the blacks one and all ready to devour your +travellers' tales--your prodigious reports of European cities? You have +only to tell like stories in stone and brick, and they will believe you +just as thankfully." + +"No, no, Vincent. I have told no tales so wicked as you tell of your +own race. My travellers' tales are all very well to pass an hour, and +be forgotten; but Christophe's mansion is to stand for an age--to stand +as the first evidence, in the department of the arts, of the elevation +of your race. Christophe knows, as well as you do without having been +to Paris, what is beautiful in architecture; and, if he did not, I would +not treacherously mislead him." + +"Christophe knows! Christophe has taste!" + +"Yes. While you have been walking streets and squares, he has been +studying the aisles of palms, and the crypts of the banyan, which, to an +open eye, may teach as much as a prejudiced mind can learn in all Rome." + +"So Loisir is of those who flatter men in power?" said Vincent, +laughing. + +"I look further," said Loisir; "I am working for men unborn. I am +ambitious; but my ambition is to connect my name honourably with the +first great house built for a negro general. My ambition is to build +here a rival to the palaces of Europe." + +"Do what you will, you will not rival your own tales of them--unless you +find Aladdin's lamp among these ruins." + +"If you find it, you may bring it me. Azna has found something half as +good--a really fine statue in the grass." + +Vincent was off to see it. He found the drawing party more eager in +conversation than about their work. Aimee was saying as he approached-- + +"General Vincent declares that he is as affectionate to us as if we were +the nearest to him of all the children of the empire.--Did you not say +so?" she asked, eagerly. "Is not the First Consul's friendship for us +real and earnest? Does he not feel a warm regard for my father? Is he +not like a father to my brothers?" + +"Certainly," said Vincent. "Do not your brothers confirm this in their +letters?" + +"Do they not, Genifrede?" repeated Aimee. + +"They do; but we see that they speak as they think: not as things really +are." + +"How can you so despise the testimony of those who see what we only hear +of?" + +"I do not despise them or their testimony. I honour their hearts, which +forget injuries, and open to kindness. But they are young; they went +from keeping cattle, and from witnessing the desolations of war here, to +the first city of the world, where the first men lavish upon them +instructions, and pleasures, and flatteries; and they are pleased. The +greatest of all--the First of the Whites, smiles upon the sons of the +First of the Blacks; and their hearts beat with enthusiasm for him. It +is natural. But, while they are in Paris, we are in Saint Domingo; and +we may easily view affairs, and judge men differently." + +"And so," said Aimee, "distrust our best friends, and despise our best +instructors; and all from a jealousy of race!" + +"We think the jealousy of race is with them," said Moyse, bitterly. +"There is not a measure of L'Ouverture's which they do not neutralise-- +not a fragment of authority which they will yield. As to friends, if +the Consul Bonaparte is our best friend among the Whites, may we be left +thus far friendless!" + +"You mean that he has not answered my father's letters. Monsieur +Vincent doubts not that an answer is on the way. Remember, my brothers +have been invited to his table." + +"There are blacks in Paris, who look on," replied Moyse, drily. + +"And are there not whites too, from this island, who watch every +movement?" + +"Yes: and those whites are in the private closet, at the very ear of +Bonaparte, whispering to him of L'Ouverture's ambition; while your +brothers penetrate no further than the saloon." + +"My brothers would lay down their lives for Bonaparte and France," said +Aimee; "and you speak treason. I am with them." + +"And with me," said Vincent, in a whisper at her ear. "Where I find the +loyal heart in woman, mine is ever loyal too." + +Aimee was too much excited to understand in this what was meant. She +went on-- + +"Here is Monsieur Vincent, of our own race, who has lived here and at +Paris--who has loved my father.--You love my father and his government?" +she said, with questioning eyes, interrupting herself. + +"Certainly. No man is more devoted to L'Ouverture." + +"Devoted to my father," pursued Aimee, "and yet devoted to Bonaparte. +He is above the rivalry of races--as the First Consul is, and as Isaac +is." + +"Isaac and the First Consul--these are the idols of Aimee's worship," +said Genifrede. "Worship Isaac still; for that is a harmless idolatry; +but give up your new religion, Aimee; for it is not sound." + +"Why not sound? How do you know that it is not sound?" + +"When have the blacks ever trusted the whites without finding themselves +bound victims in the end?" + +"I have," said Vincent. "I have lived among them a life of charms, and +I am free," he continued, stretching his arms to the air--"free to +embrace the knees of both Bonaparte and L'Ouverture--free to embrace the +world." + +"The end has not come yet," said Moyse. + +"What end?" asked Aimee. + +"Nay, God knows what end, if we trust the French." + +"You speak from prejudice," said Aimee. "Monsieur Vincent and my +brothers judge from facts." + +"We speak from facts," said Genifrede; "from, let us see--from seven-- +no, eight, very ugly facts." + +"The eight Commissaries that the colony has been blessed with," said +Moyse. "If they had taken that monkey which is looking down at your +drawing, Aimee, and seven of its brethren, and installed them at Cap, +they would have done us all the good the Commissaries have done, and far +less mischief. The monkeys would have broken the mirrors, and made a +hubbub within the walls of Government-house. These Commissaries, one +after another, from Mirbeck to Hedouville, have insulted the colony, and +sown quarrels in it, from end to end." + +"Mirbeck! Here is Mirbeck," said Denis, who had come up to listen. And +the boy rolled himself about like a drunken man--like Mirbeck, as he had +seen him in the streets of Cap. + +"Then they sent Saint Leger, the Irishman," continued Moyse, "who kept +his hand in every man's pocket, whether black or white." + +Denis forthwith had his hands, one in Vincent's pocket, the other in +Azua's. Azua, however, was drawing so fast that he did not find it out. + +"Then there was Roume." + +"Roume. My father speaks well of Roume," said Aimee. + +"He was amiable enough, but so weak that he soon had to go home, where +he was presently joined by his successor, Santhonax, whom, you know, +L'Ouverture had to get rid of, for the safety of the colony. Then came +Polverel. What the tranquillity of Saint Domingo was in his day we all +remember." + +Denis took off Polverel, spying from his ship at the island, on which he +dared not land. + +"For shame, Denis?" said Aimee. "You are ridiculing him who first +called my father L'Ouverture." + +"And do you suppose he knew the use that would be made of the word?" +asked Genifrede. "If he had foreseen its being a tide, he would have +contented himself with the obsequious bows I remember so well, and never +have spoken the word." + +Denis was forthwith bowing, with might and main. + +"Now, Denis, be quiet! Raymond, dear Raymond, came next;" and she +looked up at Vincent as she praised his friend. + +"Raymond is excellent as a man, whatever he may be as governor of Cap," +said Moyse. "But we have been speaking of whites, not of mulattoes-- +which is another long chapter." + +"Raymond was sent to us by France, however," said Aimee. + +"So was our friend Vincent there; but that is nothing to the purpose." + +"Well; who next?" cried Denis. + +"Do not encourage him," said Aimee. "My father would be vexed with you +for training him to ridicule the French--particularly the authorities." + +"Now we are blessed with Hedouville," pursued Moyse. "There you have +him, Denis--only scarcely sly, scarcely smooth enough. Yet, that is +Hedouville, who has his eye and his smiles at play in one place, while +his heart and hands are busy in another." + +"Busy," said Genifrede, "in undermining L'Ouverture's influence, and +counteracting his plans; but no one mentioned Ailbaud. Ailbaud--" + +"Stay a moment," said Azua, whose voice had not been heard till then. + +All looked at him in surprise, nobody supposing that, while so engrossed +with his pencil, he could have cared for their conversation. Aimee saw +at a glance that his paper was covered with caricatures of the +commissaries who had been enumerated. + +"You must have known them," was Aimee's involuntary testimony, as the +paper went from hand to hand, amidst shouts of laughter, while Azua sat, +with folded arms, perfectly grave. + +"I have seen some of the gentlemen," said he, "and Monsieur Denis helped +me to the rest." + +The laughter went on till Aimee was somewhat nettled. When the paper +came back to her, she looked up into the tree under which she sat. The +staring monkey was still there. She made a vigorous spring to hand up +the caricature, which the creature caught. As it sat demurely on a +branch, holding the paper as if reading it, while one of its companions +as gravely looked over its shoulder, there was more laughter than ever. + +"I beg your pardon, Monsieur Azua," said Aimee; "but this is the only +worthy fate of a piece of mockery of people wiser than ourselves, and no +less kind. The negroes have hitherto been thought, at least, grateful. +It seems that this is a mistake. For my part, however, I leave it to +the monkeys to ridicule the French." + +Vincent seized her hand, and covered it with kisses. She was abashed, +and turned away, when she saw her father behind her, in the shade of the +wood. Monsieur Pascal, his secretary, was with him. + +"My father!" + +"L'Ouverture!" exclaimed one after another of the party; for they all +supposed he had been far away. Even Denis at once gave over pelting the +monkeys, and left them to their study of the arts in peace. + +"Your drawings, my daughters!" said L'Ouverture, with a smile, as if he +had been perfectly at leisure. And he examined the Naiad, and then +Genifrede's drawing, with the attention of an artist. Genifrede had +made great progress, under the eye of Moyse. Not so Aimee; her pencil +had been busy all the while, but there was no Naiad on her page. + +"They are for Isaac," she said, timidly. "Among all the pictures he +sees, there are no--" + +"No sketches of Denis and his little companions," said her father; "no +cocoa-nut clumps--no broken fountains among the aloes--no groups that +will remind him of home. Isaac shall presently have these, Aimee. I am +on my way to Cap, and will send them." + +"On your way to Cap!" cried every one--some in a tone of fear. + +"To Cap," said he, "where Father Laxabon will follow me immediately, +with Monsieur Pascal. By them, Aimee, you will send your packet for +Isaac. My own horse is waiting." + +"Do not go alone--do not go without good escort," said Moyse. "I can +give you reason." + +"I know your thoughts, Moyse. I go for the very reason that there are, +or will be, troubles at Cap.--The French authorities may sometimes +decree and do that which we feel to be unwise--unsuitable to the +blacks," he continued, with an emphasis which gave some idea of his +having overheard more or less of the late conversation; "but we +islanders maybe more ignorant still of the thoughts and ways of their +practised race." + +"But you are personally unsafe," persisted Moyse. "If you knew what is +said by the officers of Hedouville's staff--" + +"They say," proceeded Toussaint, smiling, "that they only want three or +four brigands to seize the ape with the Madras head dress; and then all +would go well. These gentlemen are mistaken; and I am going to prove +this to them. An armed escort proves nothing. I carry something +stronger still in my mind and on my tongue. General Vincent, a word +with you." + +While he and Vincent spoke apart, Aimee exclaimed, "Oh, Moyse! Go with +my father!" + +"Do not--Oh, do not!" cried Genifrede. "You will never return!" she +muttered to him, in a voice of terror. "Aimee, you would send him away: +and my mother--all of us, are far from home. Who knows but that +Rigaud--" + +"Leave Rigaud to me," cried Vincent, gaily, as he rejoined the party. +"I undertake Rigaud. He shall never alarm you more. Farewell, +Mademoiselle Aimee! I am going to the south. Rigaud is recruiting in +the name of France; and I know France too well to allow of that. I +shall stop his recruiting, and choke his blasphemy with a good French +sword. Farewell, till I bring you news at Pongaudin that you may ride +along the southern coast as securely as in your own cane-pieces." + +"You are going?" said Aimee. + +"This very hour. I south--L'Ouverture north--" + +"And the rest to Pongaudin with the dawn," said Toussaint. + +"What is your pleasure concerning me?" asked Moyse. "I wait your +orders." + +"I remember my promise," said Toussaint; "but I must not leave my family +unprotected. You will attend them to Pongaudin: and then let me see you +at Cap, with the speed of the wind." + +"With a speed like your own, if that be possible," said Moyse. + +"Is there danger, father?" asked Genifrede, trembling. + +"My child, there is danger in the air we breathe, and the ground we +tread on: but there is protection also, everywhere." + +"You will see Afra, father," said Aimee. "If there is danger, what will +become of Afra? Her father will be in the front, in any disturbance: +and Government-house is far from being the safest place." + +"I will not forget Afra. Farewell, my children! Go now to your mother; +and, before this hour to-morrow, I shall think of you resting at +Pongaudin." + +They saw him mount before the courtyard, and set off, followed by one of +his two trompettes--the only horsemen in the island who could keep up +with him, and therefore his constant attendants in his most important +journeys. The other was gone forward, to order horses from post to +post. + +Vincent, having received written instructions from the secretary, set +off in an opposite direction, more gay than those he left behind. + +The loftiest trees of the rich plain were still touched with golden +light; and the distant bay glittered so as to make the gazers turn away +their eyes, to rest on the purple mountains to the north: but their +hearts were anxious; and they saw neither the glory nor the beauty of +which they heard talk between the painter, the architect, and their +host. + + + +CHAPTER TWELVE. + +A NIGHT OF OFFICE. + +As soon as Toussaint was out of hearing of his family and suite, he put +his horse to its utmost speed. There was not a moment to be lost, if +the peace of the island was to be preserved. Faster than ever fugitive +escaped from trouble and danger, did the negro commander rush towards +them. The union between the black and white races probably depended on +his reaching Cap by the early morning--in time to prevent certain +proclamations of Hedouville, framed in ignorance of the state of the +colony and the people, from being published. Forty leagues lay between +L'Etoile and Cap, and two mountain ridges crossed his road: but he had +ridden forty leagues in a night before, and fifty in a long day; and he +thought little of the journey. As he rode, he meditated the work of the +next day, while he kept his eye awake, and his heart open, to the beauty +of the night. + +He had cleared the plain, with his trompette at his heels, before the +woods and fields had melted together into the purple haze of evening; +and the labourers returning from the cane-pieces, with their tools on +their shoulders, offered their homage to him as he swept by. Some +shouted, some ran beside him, some kneeled in the road and blessed him, +or asked his blessing. He came to the river, and found the ford lined +by a party of negroes, who, having heard and known his horse's tread, +above the music of pipe and drum, had thrown themselves into the water +to point out the ford, and save his precious moments. He dashed through +uncovered, and was lost in the twilight before their greeting was done. +The evening star was just bright enough to show its image in the still +salt-lake, when he met the expected relay, on the verge of the mountain +woods. Thence the ascent was so steep, that he was obliged to relax his +speed. He had observed the birds winging home to these woods; they had +reached it before him, and the chirp of their welcome to their nests was +sinking into silence; but the whirring beetles were abroad. The frogs +were scarcely heard from the marshes below; but the lizards and crickets +vied with the young monkeys in noise, while the wood was all alight with +luminous insects. Wherever a twisted fantastic cotton-tree, or a +drooping wild fig, stood out from the thicket and apart, it appeared to +send forth streams of green flame from every branch; so incessantly did +the fireflies radiate from every projecting twig. + +As he ascended, the change was great. At length there was no more +sound; there were no more flitting fires. Still as sleep rose the +mountain-peaks to the night. Still as sleep lay the woods below. Still +as sleep was the outspread western sea, silvered by the steady stars +which shone, still as sleep, in the purple depths of heaven. Such was +the starlight on that pinnacle, so large and round the silver globes, so +bright in the transparent atmosphere were their arrowy rays, that the +whole, vault was as one constellation of little moons, and the horse and +his rider saw their own shadows in the white sands of their path. The +ridge passed, down plunged the horseman, hurrying to the valley and the +plain; like rocks loosened by the thunder from the mountain-top. The +hunter, resting on the heights from his day's chase of the wild goats, +started from his sleep, to listen to what he took for a threatening of +storm. In a little while, the child in the cottage in the valley +nestled close to its mother, scared at the flying tramp; while the +trembling mother herself prayed for the shield of the Virgin's grace +against the night-fiends that were abroad. Here, there was a solitary +light in the plain; there, beside the river; and yonder, behind the +village; and at each of these stations were fresh horses, the best in +the region, and smiling faces to tender their use. The panting animals +that were left behind were caressed for the sake of the burden they had +carried, and of the few kind words dropped by their rider during his +momentary pause. + +Thus was the plain beyond Mirbalais passed soon after midnight. In the +dark the horsemen swam the Artibonite, and leaped the sources of the +Petite Riviere. The eastern sky was beginning to brighten as they +mounted the highest steeps above Atalaye; and from the loftiest point, +the features of the wide landscape became distinct in the cool grey +dawn. Toussaint looked no longer at the fading stars. He looked +eastwards, where the green savannahs spread beyond the reach of human +eye. He looked northwards, where towns and villages lay in the skirts +of the mountains, and upon the verge of the rivers, and in the green +recesses where the springs burst from the hill-sides. He looked +westwards, where the broad and full Artibonite gushed into the sea, and +where the yellow bays were thronged with shipping, and every green +promontory was occupied by its plantation or fishing hamlet. He paused, +for one instant, while he surveyed what he well knew to be virtually his +dominions. He said to himself that with him it rested to keep out +strife from this paradise--to detect whatever devilish cunning might +lurk in its by-corners, and rebuke whatever malice and revenge might +linger within its bounds. With the thought he again sprang forward, +again plunged down the steeps, scudded over the wilds, and splashed +through the streams; not losing another moment till his horse stood +trembling and foaming under the hot sun, now touching the Haut-du-Cap, +where the riders had at length pulled up. Here they had overtaken the +first trompette, who, having had no leader at whose heels he must +follow, had been unable, with all his zeal, quite to equal the speed of +his companion. He had used his best efforts, and showed signs of +fatigue; but yet they had come upon his traces on the grass road from +the Gros Morne, and had overtaken him as he was toiling up the +Haut-du-Cap. + +Both waited for orders, their eyes fixed on their master's face, as they +saw him stand listening, and glancing his eye over the city, the +harbour, and the road from the Plain du Nord. He saw afar signs of +trouble: but he saw also that he was not too late. He looked down into +the gardens of Government-house. Was it possible that he would show +himself there, heated, breathless, covered with dust as he was? No. He +dismounted, and gave his horse to the trompettes, ordering them to go by +the most public way to the hotel, in Place Mont Archer, to give notice +of the approach of his secretary and staff; and thence to the barracks, +where he would appear when he had bathed. + +The trompettes would have gone round five weary miles for the honour of +carrying messages from the Commander-in-chief through the principal +streets of Cap. They departed with great zeal, while Toussaint ascended +to the mountain-pool, to take the plunge in which he found his best +refreshment after a long ride. He was presently walking leisurely down +the sloping field, through which he could drop into the grounds of +Government-house by a back gate, and have his interview with Hedouville +before interruption came from the side of the town. As he entered the +gardens, he looked, to the wondering eyes he met there, as if he had +just risen from rest, to enjoy a morning walk in the shrubberies. They +were almost ready to understand, in its literal sense, the expression of +his worshippers, that he rode at ease upon the clouds. + + + +CHAPTER THIRTEEN. + +AN OLD MAN IN NEW DAYS. + +Before the sun had touched the roofs of the town of Cap--while the +streets lay cool and grey under the heights, which glowed in the flames +of sunrise--most of the inhabitants were up and stirring. Euphrosyne +Revel was at her grandfather's chamber-door; first listening for his +call, and then softly looking in, to see whether he could still be +sleeping. The door opened and shut by a spring, so that the old man did +not hear the little girl as she entered, though his sleep was not sound. +As Euphrosyne saw how restless he was, and heard him mutter, she +thought she would rouse him: but she stayed her hand, as she remembered +that he might have slept ill, and might still settle for another quiet +doze, if left undisturbed. With a gentle hand she opened one of the +jalousies, to let in more air; and she chose one which was shaded by a +tree outside, that no glare of light might enter with the breeze. + +What she saw from this window drew her irresistibly into the balcony. +It was a tree belonging to the convent which waved before the window; +and below lay the convent garden, fresh with the dews of the night. +There stretched the green walks, so glittering with diamond-drops and +with the gossamer as to show that no step had passed over them since +dawn. There lay the parterres--one crowded with geraniums of all hues; +another with proud lilies, white, orange, and purple; and another with a +flowering pomegranate in the centre, while the gigantic white and blue +convolvulus coveted the soil all around, mixing with the bright green +leaves and crimson blossoms of the hibiscus. No one seemed to be +abroad, to enjoy the garden during this the freshest hour of the day; no +one but the old black gardener, Raphael, whose cracked voice might be +heard at intervals from the depths of the shrubbery in the opposite +corner, singing snatches of the hymns which the sisters sung in the +chapel. When his hoarse music ceased, the occasional snap of a bough, +and movements among the bushes, told that the old man was still there, +busy at his work. + +Euphrosyne wished that he would come out, within sight of the beckon of +her hand. She dared not call, for fear of wakening her grandfather: but +she very much wanted a flowering orange branch. A gay little +humming-bird was sitting and hovering near her; and she thought that a +bunch of fragrant blossoms would entice it in a moment. The little +creature came and went, flew round the balcony and retired: and still +old Raphael kept out of sight behind the leafy screen. + +"It will be gone, pretty creature!" said Euphrosyne to herself; "and all +for want of a single bough from all those thickets!" + +A thought struck her. Her morning frock was tied round the waist with a +cord, having tassels which hung down nearly to her feet. She took off +the cord, made a noose in it, and let it down among the shrubs below, +swinging the end this way and that, as she thought best for catching +some stray twig. She pursued her aim for a time, sending showers of +dew-drops paltering down, and knocking off a good many blossoms, but +catching nothing. She was so busy, that she did not see that a +grey-suited nun had come out, with a wicker cage in her hand, and was +watching her proceedings. + +"What are you doing, my child?" asked the nun, approaching, as a new +shower of dew-drops and blossoms was shaken abroad. "If you desire to +fish, I doubt not our reverend mother will make you welcome to our pond +yonder." + +"Oh, sister Christine! I am glad you are come out," said Euphrosyne, +bending over the balcony, and speaking in a low, though eager voice. +"Do give me a branch of something sweet,--orange, or citron, or +something. This humming-bird, will be gone if we do not make haste-- +Hush! Do not call. Grandpapa is not awake yet. Please, make haste." + +Sister Christine was not wont to make haste; but she did her best to +gratify Euphrosyne. She went straight to the corner of the shrubbery +where the abbess's mocking-bird spent all its summer days, hung up the +cage, and brought back what Euphrosyne had asked. The branch was drawn +up in the noose of the cord, and the nun could not but stand and watch +the event. + +The bough was stuck between two of the bars of the jalousie, and the +girl withdrew to the end of the balcony. The humming-bird appeared, +hovered round, and at last inserted its long beak in a blossom, +sustaining itself the while on its quivering wings. Before proceeding +to another blossom it flew away. Euphrosyne cast a smile down to the +nun, and placed herself against the jalousie, holding the branch upon +her head. As she had hoped, two humming-birds returned. After some +hesitation, they came for more of their sweet food, and Euphrosyne felt +that her hair was blown about on her forehead by the motion of their +busy wings. She desired, above everything, to keep still; but this +strong desire, and the sight of sister Christine's grave face turned so +eagerly upwards, made her laugh so as to shake the twigs very fearfully. +Keeping her hand with the branch steady, she withdrew her head from +beneath, and then stole slowly and cautiously backward within the +window--the birds following. She now heard her grandfather's voice, +calling feebly and fretfully. She half turned to make a signal for +silence, which the old man so far observed as to sink his complaints to +a mutter. The girl put the branch into a water-jar near the window, and +then stepped lightly to the bed. + +"What is all this nonsense?" said Monsieur Revel. "Why did not you come +the moment I called?" + +"Here I am, grandpapa--and do look--look at my humming-birds!" + +"Humming-birds--nonsense! I called you twice." + +Yet the old gentleman rubbed his eyes, which did not seem yet quite +awake. He rubbed his eyes and looked through the shaded room, as if to +see Euphrosyne's new plaything. She brought him his spectacles from the +toilette, helped to raise him up, threw a shawl over his shoulders, and +placed his pillows at his back. Perceiving that he still could not see +very distinctly, she opened another blind, so as to let one level ray of +sunshine fall upon the water-jar, and the little radiant creatures that +were hovering about it. + +"There! there!" cried Monsieur Revel, in a pleased tone. + +"Now I will go and bring you your coffee," said Euphrosyne. + +"Stop, stop, child! Why are you in such a hurry? I want to know what +is the matter. Such a night as I have had!" + +"A bad night, grandpapa? I am sorry." + +"Bad enough! How came my light to go out? And what is all this +commotion in the streets?" + +Euphrosyne went to the night-lamp, and found that a very large flying +beetle had disabled itself by breaking the glass, and putting out the +light. There it lay dead--a proof at least that there were no ants in +the room. + +"Silly thing!" said Euphrosyne. "I do wish these beetles would learn to +fly properly. He must have startled you, grandpapa. Did not you think +it was a thief, when you were left in the dark?" + +"It is very odd that nobody about me can find me a lamp that will serve +me. And then, what is all this bustle in the town? Tell me at once +what is the matter." + +"I know of nothing the matter. The trompettes have been by this +morning; and they say that the Commander-in-chief is here: so there will +be nothing the matter. There was some talk last night, Pierre said-- +some fright about to-day. But L'Ouverture is come; and it will be all +right now, you know." + +"You know nothing about it, child--teazing one with your buzzing, +worrying humming-birds! Go and get my coffee, and send Pierre to me." + +"The birds will come with me, I dare say, if I go by the balcony. I +will take them away." + +"No, no. Don't lose time with them. Let them be. Go and send Pierre." + +When Euphrosyne returned with the coffee, she found, as Pierre had found +before her, Monsieur Revel so engrossed in looking through his +spectacles at the water-jar, as to have forgotten what he had to ask and +to say. + +"You will find the bath ready whenever you want it, grandpapa," said +Euphrosyne, as she placed the little tray before him: "and it is a sweet +airy morning." + +"Ay; I must make haste up, and see what is to be done. It is not safe +to lie and rest in one's bed, in this part of the world." And he made +haste to stir his coffee with his trembling hands. + +"Oh, you have often said that--almost ever since I can remember--and +here we are, quite safe still." + +"Tell the truth, child. How dare you say that we have been safe ever +since you remember?" + +"I said `almost,' grandpapa. I do not forget about our being in the +woods--about--but we will not talk of that now. That was all over a +long time ago; and we have been very safe since. The great thing of all +is, that there was no L'Ouverture then, to take care of us. Now, you +know, the Commander-in-chief is always thinking how he can take the best +care of us." + +"`No L'Ouverture then!' One would think you did not know what and where +Toussaint was then. Why, child, your poor father was master over a +hundred such as he." + +"Do you think they were like him? Surely, if they had been like him, +they would not have treated us as they did. Afra says she does not +believe, anybody like him ever lived." + +"Afra is a pestilent little fool." + +"Oh, grandpapa!" + +"Well, well! She is a very good girl in her way; but she talks about +what she does not understand. She pretends to judge of governors of the +colony, when her own father cannot govern this town, and she never knew +Blanchelande! Ah! if she had known Blanchelande, she would have seen a +man who understood his business, and had spirit to keep up the dignity +and honour of the colony. If that sort of rule had gone on till now, we +should not have had the best houses in the island full of these black +upstarts; nor a mulatto governor in this very town." + +"And then I should not have had Afra for a friend, grandpapa." + +"You would have been better without, child. I do not like to see you +for ever with a girl of her complexion, though she is the governor's +daughter. There must be an end of it--there shall be an end of it. It +is a good time now. There is a reason for it to-day. It is time you +made friends of your own complexion, child; and into the convent you +go--this very day." + +"Oh, grandpapa, you don't mean that those nuns are of my complexion! +Poor pale creatures! I would not for the world look like them: and I +certainly shall, if you put me there. I had much rather look like Afra +than like sister Benoite, or sister Cecile. Grandpapa! you would not +like me to look like sister Benoite?" + +"How do I know, child? I don't know one from another of them." + +"No, indeed! and you would not know me by the time I had been there +three months. How sorry you would be, grandpapa, when you asked for me +next winter, to see all those yellow-faced women pass before you, and +when the yellowest of all came, to have to say, `Can this be my poor +Euphrosyne!'" + +Monsieur Revel could not help laughing as he looked up at the girl +through his spectacles. He pinched her cheek, and said that there was +certainly more colour there than was common in the West Indies; but that +it must fade, in or out of the convent, by the time she was twenty; and +she had better be in a place where she was safe. The convent was the +only safe place. + +"You have often said that before," replied she, "and the time has never +come yet. And no more it will now. I shall go with Afra to the +cacao-gathering at Le Zephyr, as I did last year. Oh, that sweet cool +place in the Mornes du Chaos! How different from this great ugly square +white convent, with nothing that looks cheerful, and nothing to be heard +but teaching, teaching, and religion, religion, for ever." + +"I advise you to make friends among the sisters, however, Euphrosyne; +for there you will spend the next few years." + +"I will not make friends with anything but the poor mocking-bird. I +have promised Afra not to love anybody instead of her; but she will not +be jealous of the poor bird. It and I will spend the whole day in the +thicket, mocking and pining--pining and mocking. The sisters shall not +get a word out of me--not one of them. I may speak to old Raphael now +and then, that I may not forget how to use my tongue; but I vow that +poor bird shall be my only friend." + +"We shall see that. We shall see how long a giddy child like you can +keep her mocking-bird tone in the uproar that is coming upon us! What +will you do, child, without me, when the people of this colony are +cutting one another's throats over my grave? What will become of you +when I am gone?" + +"Dear grandpapa, before that comes the question, What will you do +without me? What will become of you when I am gone into that dull +place? You know very well, grandpapa, that you cannot spare me." + +The old man's frame was shaken with sobs. He put his thin hands before +his face, and the tears trickled between his fingers. Euphrosyne +caressed him, saying, "There! I knew how it would be. I knew I should +never leave you. I never will leave you. I will bring up your coffee +every morning, and light your lamp every night, as long as you live." + +As she happened to be looking towards the door, she saw it opening a +little upon its noiseless hinges, and a hand which she knew to be +Pierre's beckoning to her. Her grandfather did not see it. She +withdrew herself from him with a sportive kiss, ordered him to rest for +a while, and think of nothing but her humming-birds, and carried the +tray out of the room. + +Pierre was there, waiting impatiently with a note from Afra. + +"I did not bring it in, Mademoiselle," said he, "because I am sure there +is something amiss. A soldier brought the note; and he says he has +orders to stay for my master's commands." + +Afra's note told what this meant. It was as follows:-- + +"Dearest Euphrosyne, + +"Do not be frightened. There is time, if you come directly. There is +no danger, if you come to us. The cultivators are marching hither over +the plain. It is with the whites that they are angry; so you had better +make yourselves secure with us. The soldier who brings this will escort +Monsieur Revel and you this little way through the streets: but you must +lose no time. We are sorry to hurry your grandfather; but it cannot be +helped. Come, my dearest, to your + +"Afra Raymond." + +Pierre saw his young lady's face turn as pale as any nun's, as she +glanced over this note. + +"The carriage, Pierre! Have it to the door instantly." + +"With your leave. Mademoiselle, the soldier says no French carriages +will be safe in the streets this morning." + +"Oh, mercy! A chair, then. Send for a chair this moment. The soldier +will go for it--ask him as a favour. They will not dare to refuse one +to a governor's guard. Then come, and dress your master, and do not +look so grave, Pierre, before him." + +Pierre went, and was met at the door by a servant with another note. It +was-- + +"Do not come by the street, dearest Euphrosyne. The nuns will let you +through their garden, into our garden alley, if you can only get your +grandfather over the balcony. My two messengers will help you; but they +are much wanted:--so make haste. + +"A.E." + +"Make the soldiers sling an arm-chair from the balcony, Pierre; and send +one of them round into the convent garden, to be ready to receive us +there. The abbess will have the gate open to the Government-house +alley. Then come, and dress your master; and leave it to me to tell him +everything." + +"Likely enough," muttered Pierre; "for I know nothing of what is in +those notes myself." + +"And I do not understand what it is all about," said Euphrosyne, as she +returned to her grandfather. + +He had fallen into a light doze, lulled by the motion and sound of the +humming-birds. Euphrosyne kissed his forehead, to rouse him, and then +told him gaily that it was terribly late--he had no idea how late it +was--he must get up directly. The bath! no; there must be no bath +to-day. There was not time for it; or, at least, he must go a little +ride first. A new sort of carriage was getting ready-- + +She now looked graver, as Pierre entered. She said, that while Pierre +dressed him, she would put up some clothes for a short visit to +Government-house. + +Monsieur Revel, being now alarmed, Euphrosyne admitted that some +confusion in the streets was expected, and that the Governor and Afra +thought that their friends would be most quiet at the back of +Government-house. + +To her consternation, Monsieur Revel suddenly refused to stir a step +from his own dwelling. He would not be deceived into putting himself +and his child into the hands of any mulattoes upon earth, governors or +other. Not one of his old friends, in Blanchelande's time, would have +countenanced such an act; and he would not so betray his colour and his +child. He had rather die on his own threshold. + +"You must do as you please about that, sir," said Pierre; "but, for +Mademoiselle Euphrosyne, I must say, that I think it is full early for +her to die--and when she might be safe too!" + +"Oh, grandpapa! I cannot let you talk of our dying," cried Euphrosyne, +her cheeks bathed in tears. "Indeed I will not die--nor shall you +either. Besides, if that were all--" + +The old man knew what was in her mind--that she was thinking of the +woods. He sank down on his knees by the bedside, and prayed that the +earth might gape and swallow them up--that the sea might rush in, and +overflow the hollow where the city had been, before he and his should +fall into the hands of the cursed blacks. + +"Grandpapa," said Euphrosyne, gravely, "if you pray such a prayer as +that, do not pray aloud. I cannot hear such a prayer as that." +Struggling with her tears, she continued: "I know you are very much +frightened--and I do not wonder that you are: but I do wish you would +remember that we have very kind friends who will protect us, if we will +only make haste and go to them. And as for their being of a different +colour--I do wonder that you can ask God to cause the earth to swallow +us up, when you know (at least, you have taught me so) we must meet +people of all races before the throne of God. He has made of one blood +all the nations of the earth, you know." + +Monsieur Revel shook his head impatiently, as if to show that she did +not understand his feelings. She went on, however:-- + +"If we so hate and distrust them at this moment, here, how can we pray +for death, so as to meet them at the next moment there? Oh, grandpapa! +let us know them a little better first. Let us go to them now." + +"Don't waste time so, child; you hinder my dressing." + +He allowed himself to be dressed, and made no further opposition till he +found himself at the balcony of the next room. + +"Here is your new coach," said Euphrosyne, "and plenty of servants:" +showing him how one of the soldiers and old Raphael stood below to +receive the chair, and the abbess herself was in waiting in a distant +walk, beside the wicket they were to pass through. + +Of course, the old gentleman said he could never get down that way; and +he said something about dying on his own threshold--this time, however, +in a very low voice. But, in the midst of his opposition, Euphrosyne +seated herself in the chair, and was let down. When she could no longer +hear his complaints, but was standing beckoning to him from the +grass-plat below, he gave up all resistance, was let down with perfect +ease, and carried in the chair, followed by all the white members of his +household, through the gardens, and up the alley where Afra was awaiting +them. There was a grey sister peeping from behind every blind as they +crossed the garden, and trembling with the revived fears of that +terrible night of ninety-one, when they had fled to the ships. It was +some comfort to them to see old Raphael busy with rake and knife, +repairing the damage done to the bed under the balcony--all trampled as +it was. Each nun said to herself that Raphael seemed to have no fears +but that the garden would go on as usual, whatever disturbance was +abroad. + +"Have you seen him?" asked Euphrosyne eagerly of her friend, the moment +they met. + +"Oh yes. You shall see him too, from my window, if they will but talk +on till we get there. He and the Commissary, and some of the +Commissary's officers, are in the rose-garden under my window. Make +haste, or they may be gone." + +"We must see grandpapa settled first." + +"Oh yes; but I am so afraid they may be gone! They have been pacing the +alley between the rose-trees this hour nearly--talking and arguing all +the time. I am sure they were arguing; for they stopped every now and +then, and the Commissary made such gestures! He looked so impatient and +so vexed!" + +"And did _he_ look vexed, too?" + +"Not in the least angry, but severe. So quiet, so majestic he looked, +as he listened to all they said! and when he answered them--Oh, I would +not, for all the island, have his eyes so set upon me!" + +"Oh dear, let us make haste, or they will be gone!" cried Euphrosyne. + +While Euphrosyne was endeavouring to make her grandfather feel himself +at home and comfortable in the apartment appointed for him by the +Governor, Afra ran to her window, to see if the potentates of the island +were still at their conference. The rose-garden was empty; and she came +back sorrowfully to say so. As she entered the apartment of her guests, +she heard Monsieur Revel sending a message of compliments to the +Commissary, with a request of an audience of a few minutes. The +servants gave as much intimation as they dared of the Commissary being +so particularly engaged, that they had rather be excused carrying this +message. The girls looked at one another, nodded agreement, and +Euphrosyne spoke. + +"Suppose, grandpapa, you ask to see the Commander-in-chief. He never +refuses anything that is asked of him: and he can do everything he +wishes. I dare say he will come at once, if you desire it, and if we do +not detain him too long. If he had been in this room once with us, how +safe we should feel!" + +"Oh, if we could see him once in this room!" cried Afra. + +"Do you suppose I will beg a favour of that ambitious black?" cried +Monsieur Revel. "Do you think I will crave an audience of a fellow who, +for aught I know, may have driven his master's carriage to my door in +the old days?--no, if I cannot see Hedouville, I will take my chance. +Go, fellow! and carry my message," he cried to Pierre. + +Pierre returned with the answer which might have been anticipated. The +Commissary was so engaged, there was so much bustle and confusion +throughout his establishment, that no one of his people would deliver +the message. + +"That would not have been the answer if--" whispered Euphrosyne to her +friend. + +"Shall I venture?--yes, I will--shall I? At least, I will keep upon the +watch," said Afra, as she withdrew. + +She presently sent in, with the tray of fruit, a basket of flowers, +which Euphrosyne occupied herself in dressing, exactly as she did at +home, humming the while the airs her grandfather heard her sing every +day. Her devices answered very well. He presently occupied himself in +pointing out, exactly as he always did, that there was too much green in +this bouquet, and not enough in that. + + + +CHAPTER FOURTEEN. + +SPOILING SPORT. + +Nothing could exceed the astonishment of the Commissary on seeing +Toussaint this morning. Hedouville was amusing himself, before the sun +was high, alternately with three or four of his officers, in duetting +with a parrot, which had shown its gaudy plumage among the dark foliage +of a tamarind-tree in the garden. At every pause in the bird's chatter, +one of the gentlemen chattered in reply; and thus kept up the discord, +to the great amusement of the party. Hedouville was just declaring that +he had obtained the best answer--the loudest and most hideous--when he +heard the swing of a gate, and, turning round, saw Toussaint entering +from the barrack-yard. + +"The ape!" exclaimed one of the officers, in a whisper. + +"Who--who is it?" eagerly asked a naval captain, lately arrived. + +"Who should it be but the black chief? No other of his race is fond +enough of us to be for ever thrusting himself upon us. He is +confoundedly fond of the whites." + +"We only ask him," said Delon, another officer, "to like us no better +than we like him, and leave us to manage our business our own way." + +"Say the word, Commissary," whispered the first, "and he shall not go +hence so easily as he came." + +"I should beg pardon, Commissary," said Toussaint, as he approached, +"for presenting myself thus--for entering by a back-way--if it were not +necessary. The crisis requires that we should agree upon our plan of +operations, before we are seen in the streets. It is most important +that we should appear to act in concert. It is the last chance for the +public safety." + +"Crisis!--public safety!--seen in the streets!" exclaimed Hedouville. +"I assure you, General, I have no thoughts of going abroad till evening. +It will be a scorching day. Is the crisis you speak of that of the +heats?" + +"No trifling, Commissary! Gentlemen," said he, turning to the officers, +who happened to be laughing, "no levity! The occasion is too serious +for mirth or for loss of time. Shall we speak alone, Commissary?" + +"By no means," said Hedouville. "These gentlemen would not for the +world miss hearing your news. Has a fresh insurrection been contrived +already? or has any Frenchman forgotten himself, and kissed Psyche, or +cuffed Agamemnon?" + +"A new insurrection has been contrived; and by you. The cultivators are +marching over the plain; and in four hours the town will be sacked, if +you, Monsieur Hedouville, who have given the provocation, do not +withdraw it. You must sign this proclamation. It is the opposite of +your own now waiting for jubilation. But you must sign and issue it-- +and that within this hour. I hear what you say, gentlemen. You say +that I have raised the cultivators. I have not. There is not a negro +in the plain who does not at this moment believe that I am in the south. +I come to put them down; but I will not go out with the sword in one +hand, if I do not carry justice in the other." + +"What do you mean about justice, General? What injustice has been +done?" + +"Here is the draft of your proclamation--" + +"How came you by that paper--by the particulars of my intention?" asked +Hedouville. "My proclamation is yet locked up in my own desk." + +"Its contents are nevertheless known throughout the colony. When a +Commissary, lightly and incidentally (and therefore the more +offensively) settles, without understanding them, the most important +points of difference between two unreconciled races, the very winds +stoop in their flight, to snatch up the tidings, and drop them as they +fly. See here! See how you pronounce on the terms of field-service-- +and here, on the partition of unclaimed estates--and here, on the claims +of the emigrants! The blacks must be indeed as stupid as you hold them +to be, if they did not spread the alarm that you are about to enslave +them again." + +"I protest I never dreamed of such a thing." + +"I believe you. And that you did not so dream, shows that you are blind +to the effects of your own measures--that the cultivators of the plain +understand your proceedings better than you do yourself. Here is the +proclamation which must be issued." + +And he offered a paper, which Hedouville took, but tore in pieces, +trampling them under foot, and saying, that he had never before been so +insulted in his function. + +"That is a childish act," observed Toussaint, as he looked down upon the +fragments of the document. "And a useless one," he continued; "for my +secretary is getting it printed off by this time." + +"Are you going to dare to put my name to a proclamation I have not +seen?" + +"Certainly not. My name will suffice, if you compel me to dispense with +yours. This proclamation grants--" + +Hedouville here gave whispered directions to Delon, who hastened towards +the house; and to another, who made for the barrack-yard. + +"From every quarter," said Toussaint, "you will have confirmation of the +news I brought. I will speak presently of what must be done. This +proclamation," pointing to the torn paper, "grants an amnesty to all +engaged in former conflicts of race, and declares that there are no +`returned emigrants' in the island--that they are all considered native +proprietors--that all now absent shall be welcome again, and shall be +protected--that the blacks are free citizens, and will so remain; but +that they shall continue for five years to till the estates on which +they live, for one-fourth of the produce." + +"I do not see the grounds of your disgust with my proclamation," said +Hedouville. "I think your anger absurd." + +"I have no doubt you do. This proves, with a multitude of other +circumstances, that you must go." + +"Admirable! And leave the colony to your government!" + +"Just so. If you ask the whites of the island, they will tell you, +almost to a man, that I can govern the whites; while events daily show +that you cannot rule the blacks. While you have held the title of +Commissary, you know that you have ruled only by my permission-- +sometimes strengthened by my approbation--oftener spared by my +forbearance. I am aware that these gentlemen are not of that opinion," +he continued, his voice assuming the mildness which always distinguished +it when he spoke of his personal injuries. "They believe that if two or +three brigands could be got to seize in his camp the ape with the Madras +on his head, all would be well. But they are mistaken. They may play +the brigand, and seize me now; but then the town will be burning before +night." + +"You should not believe all the saucy things that are told you--you +should not care for the impertinence of young soldiers," said +Hedouville, who suspected that his affairs were reality in a critical +state, and had now resumed his usual smoothness of manner. He led the +way up the alley between the rose-trees, that the torn proclamation +might be no longer in sight. + +"No doubt," observed an officer, gravely, "the Commissary will report to +the First Consul (if you really persist in sending the Commissary +away)--he will doubtless report to the First Consul the prodigious power +you hold here, and how great a rival Bonaparte has on this side the +water." + +"And how willing a servant," added Toussaint--"how willing to bear the +burden of government for the good of France." + +"Burden!" exclaimed all. + +"Yes," replied Toussaint: "where is there a heavier burden? Do you +suppose that men choose their own office in life? If so, should I have +chosen such a one as mine? Was the pleasure of Heaven ever more clearly +revealed than in my case? Ask the First Consul whether it was possible +for me to be other than I am. The revolution of Saint Domingo proceeded +without any interference from me--a negro slave. I saw that the +dominion of the whites could not last, divided as they were among +themselves, and lost in the numbers of their foes. I was glad that I +was a black. The time came when I was compelled to act. I associated +myself with the Spaniards, who were the allies of my king, and who had +extended protection to the loyal troops of my colour. But this +protection served no end. The republic proclaimed the general liberty +of the blacks. An unerring voice told me that my allegiance was +thenceforward due to the republic. The blacks in their new condition +wanted a leader. They chose me to lead them--to be the chief predicted +by Raynal, as General Laveaux declared. Inspired by this call, I +entered into the service of France. The services that I have rendered +prove that it was indeed the voice of God that called me. Why do I tell +you this?--Because I owe an account of my life to you? No, indeed!--I +tell you all this that you may render my account to the First Consul, +whom, it appears, I cannot reach by letter. I charge you, by your +fidelity to the mother-country, to repeat to Bonaparte what I have +said." + +"You could do it more accurately and forcibly yourself," observed +Hedouville. "Let me advise that you go instead of me." + +"You know," replied Toussaint, "who it was that said that I am the +Bonaparte of Saint Domingo, and that the colony could not exist without +me. It was your brother functionaries who said it; and never did they +say anything more true." + +The naval captain, Meronet, observed that his ship, now in the roads, +happened to be that which had conveyed the Commissary; and that it would +greatly flatter him, after having brought out Commissary Hedouville, to +carry back General Toussaint L'Ouverture. + +"Your ship, sir," replied Toussaint, "will not contain a man like me--a +man laden with the destinies of a race." + +"But you speak of the burden of your office," observed one of the aides. +"It must be great; and all men need occasional repose. Suppose you +retire to France for an interval of repose?" + +"Perhaps I may," replied Toussaint, "when this shrub," pointing to the +sucker of a logwood tree, "shall be large enough to make a ship to take +me there." + +"You could devolve your cares upon your friend Raymond, General, if you +do not wish fully to trust the whites. Be persuaded to visit your +brother in destiny and glory, as you call Bonaparte." + +"Raymond is my friend, as you say, and a good man; but he is not called +to be arbiter of the fate of the colony. See! Here are your +messengers, Commissary." + +The officers entered from the barracks, with news that the plain was +really in a state of commotion, and that no adequate defences appeared +to be provided by the authorities of the town. + +"I charge myself with the defence of the town," said Toussaint. "Your +part, Commissary, is to sign the new proclamation instantly; and to +prepare to sail for France, with as many persons as desire to accompany +you. On your promise to do this, I will guarantee the public peace. In +this case, you incur no further dishonour than that of not understanding +the temper and the affairs of the blacks. If you refuse to go, I shall +arrest you here, and denounce you to the government of France, as the +cause of the insurrection which will undoubtedly ensue. You will not +choose to incur this infamy. Therefore," he continued, turning to +Captain Meronet, "you will have the goodness to return to your ship, and +prepare it for the reception of the Commissary. He will probably join +you in the course of this day." + +Again addressing the astonished functionary, he continued, "You shall be +protected to the latest possible moment, for the convenience of making +your arrangements. When I can protect you no longer, I will cause the +alarm gun on the height behind the barracks to be fired. At that +signal, you will hasten to the boats, and be gone. Assure yourself of +my justice, and render me an equal measure at the court of France. +Farewell!" + +As he entered Government-house, the officers looked at each other in +consternation. + +"What is to be done?" asked more than one. + +"It is true enough," said Hedouville, "that neither I nor any one else +understand these people. The danger is really pressing Delon." + +"Most pressing, there is no doubt." + +"Then I have done with this mongrel colony; and I am not sorry. At home +I shall find means to vindicate my honour." + +"You mean to depart, then, Commissary?" + +"When we hear the alarm gun. Not sooner. It is possible that it may be +a mere threat." + +"If so, it will be the first mere threat in which this black has been +detected." + +"That is true. He usually acts first, and speaks afterwards. +Gentlemen, we shall have to go. I must first see about this +proclamation, and discover whether anything else can be done. If not, +Captain, au revoir!" + + + +CHAPTER FIFTEEN. + +GO OR STAY? + +The Commander-in-chief was not long closeted with Governor Raymond: for +this was a day when minutes were precious. It was observed that there +was a sudden activity among the messengers of the Governor, among the +soldiers, and among the citizens; and every one felt that the voice of +Toussaint was giving orders in every corner of the town, before he had +yet come forth. The report spread that Moyse L'Ouverture was come; and +he was soon seen, superintending the placing of cannon in the streets, +and the mustering of soldiers in the squares. The presence of the young +man inspired an enthusiasm inferior only to that which waited on the +steps of his uncle. Its influence on Moyse was seen in the fire of his +eye, the quickness of his movements, and the hilarity of his air. He +appeared to notice every one who cheered, or waved hat or handkerchief +to him, and to overhear all that was said as he passed along. In one +instance he stopped to reply. + +"I little thought," he heard an old negro merchant say to a +neighbour--"I little thought ever to see an Ouverture planting cannon +against his own colour." + +"Nor do you see it now, friend," said Moyse. "The insurgents in the +plain are of all colours--almost as many whites as blacks are +discontented with the Commissary, and--" + +"Turn your guns upon the Commissary, then, young soldier!" + +"There is no need, friend. We shall be rid of the Commissary by an +easier method; and these guns will be wheeled home, as harmless as they +came. My belief is that not a drop of negro blood will be shed; and to +that end do we plant our cannon. If we tranquillise the whites of the +town, and empty Government-house of the French, the negroes of the plain +will find none but friends when they arrive." + +"Oh, ay! That is your policy, is it?" + +"That is L'Ouverture's policy. Tell it everywhere. He is the best +friend of the blacks who best makes it known." + +The explanation passed from mouth to mouth; and the new proclamation, +signed by Toussaint and Hedouville, from hand to hand. The proclamation +was posted in the corners of the streets; it was read aloud in the +squares; it was sent, by messengers of every colour, among the +insurgents in the plain. The effect of this, connected with the report, +which every moment gained strength, that the Commissary was about to +quit the colony was so evident, that Toussaint's wishes seemed likely to +be accomplished. The insurgents did not, indeed, disband: they had been +too often deceived by the Commissary's bland promises to do that before +they had gained their point: but there was every reason to believe that +they would march upon the town, only to secure the departure of +Hedouville and his adherents, and the fidelity of the government to the +terms of the proclamation. + +When Toussaint came forth from his conference with Raymond, Afra and +Euphrosyne were awaiting him in the corridor. He would have passed them +with a smile; but he saw that Afra was urging Euphrosyne to speak, and +that the blushing Euphrosyne dared not do so. He therefore stopped to +tell Afra that his daughters had sent their love to her; that she was +going to Pongaudin in a day or two; and that her friends there would be +very glad to see her. + +"Am I really going? Does my father say that I may?" + +"He is going too: he will be there before you." + +"My poor Euphrosyne, what will you do?" exclaimed Afra. "This is +Euphrosyne Revel," she continued to Toussaint; "and--" + +"Revel!" he said. "Have not you an aged relative in this town, my +dear?" + +"In that room," hastily answered Afra. "He is very old, and much +alarmed to-day; and he cannot believe that he and Euphrosyne are safe, +even here. If you will only assure Euphrosyne that there is no danger-- +if she could tell him that you say so--" + +"I will tell him myself," said Toussaint. "He is in that apartment, you +say?" + +"Oh! but please your Excellency," exclaimed Afra, "he may not like--he +may not wish--Euphrosyne is as much devoted to you as we are, but--" + +Toussaint was well aware that Monsieur Revel might not like, would not +wish, to see him, or any black. Among all the hatreds which had +deformed the colony, none more fierce had existed than that between +Monsieur Revel and the negro race. He had been a cruel master; hence +his incessant terrors now. He had been marked out for vengeance at the +time of the revolution, and his family had perished for his crimes; and +hence the detestation in which, as the survivor of these victims, he was +regarded by most who knew the story. Euphrosyne knew nothing of it; nor +did her young companion. There was no one to tell them uselessly so +painful a tale; and there was nothing in Monsieur Revel's present +conduct to awaken a suspicion of the truth. He rarely saw a black: and +the tenderness which lies in some corner of the hardest hearts was by +him lavished upon his only remaining descendant. Little did she suppose +now, how much better her grandfather was known by Toussaint than by +herself. + +"Trust me!" said Toussaint, smiling. "I will not annoy Monsieur Revel. +I will merely reassure him, and tell him a little good news; and then +leave him to his repose." + +"Yes, Afra," interposed Euphrosyne. "Oh yes, please your Excellency, do +go! I will tell him you are coming." + +She flew along the corridor, and, with joyous smiles, prepared Monsieur +Revel for some great honour and pleasure, when Toussaint entered, and +bowed low, as it had ever been his custom to do before grey hairs. + +"I come," said he to the old man, who seemed at a loss whether to rise +or not, but who would not ask his visitor to sit down, "I come to +encourage you to dismiss all fears. By the resolution of the Commissary +to sail for France this day all further disputes are obviated. We have +strong hopes that peace will not be disturbed." + +"The Commissary going home. Who, then, is to govern us? What is to +become of the whites in the colony?" + +"I will take care of them. Those who are unwilling to remain, in the +absence of the Commissary, can depart with him. There is shipping +enough for more than will wish to go." + +Euphrosyne glanced apprehensively at her grandfather, and then said, +"Grandpapa is too old to go upon the sea any more; and I am not afraid +of anything here. I do not believe there is anything to be afraid of +here; is there?" + +"Indeed, I believe not." + +"Besides," said Afra, "my father will not allow any harm to happen to +his best friends. My father--" + +"Your father, my dear, will not be here," said Toussaint. "He is +appointed to the legislature, in the interior. I protect this town till +a new governor is appointed. I told you we hoped to see you at +Pongaudin. You will pass your time there, with my family, while +Monsieur Raymond attends his duties in the legislature. I go, sir, to +provide for the peace of the town. If I can be of service to you, you +have only to send to me. I entreat you to rely upon my protection." + +And he went out. + +"Oh, grandpapa!" exclaimed Euphrosyne, sighing. + +"My dears, I hope I was not rude to him. I know that he meant kindly by +coming: and I would not be otherwise than civil. I hope I was not rude +to the Commander-in-chief." + +Neither of his companions spoke, to give him comfort on this head. He +grew angry. He declared that he did not understand all these changes +and troubles, and he would go out of the way of them. He would sail +with Hedouville; and so should Euphrosyne, and so should Pierre. He +knew he should die before they had been a week at sea; but he would not +stay to see everything turned topsy-turvy by the blacks. + +Afra gently said that she understood it was Hedouville who had +endeavoured to turn everything topsy-turvy, and those who understood the +affairs of the colony better, who hoped to keep them straight. +Euphrosyne protested that it was impossible to get home, to pack up +their goods: and even if they were at home, there was no time to do it +properly. When she found all her objections of this class unavailing, +she gravely said that she fully believed what her grandfather had just +declared--that he would die before they had been a week at sea; and +nothing, therefore, should make her consent to go. A compromise was at +length agreed upon. Euphrosyne promised to enter the convent, if her +grandfather should desire it: and on this promise, he consented to say +no more about going to sea. + +As Toussaint went forth from Monsieur Revel's apartment, he met Monsieur +Pascal, with his portfolio in his hand. + +"Monsieur Pascal here already! I am gratified--I am grateful!" said +Toussaint, grasping his hand. "You are weary--you must be very weary; +but can you work a little before going to rest?" + +"Willingly. No doubt. Most willingly." + +Toussaint desired that fruit and wine should be sent to the governor's +private room, and that the reports of messengers from the city should be +brought instantly to him there. Monsieur Pascal and he then sat down +beside a table, with pen, ink, and paper before them. + +"Monsieur Pascal," Toussaint began, "the Commissary sails for France +this day, with as many as desire to accompany him. You know the reasons +which compel me to advise his departure. You came out as his secretary. +Do you desire to return with him?" + +"I do not. With your permission, I will remain with you." + +"With what view?" + +"My own satisfaction, and the wish to serve the colony. My attachment +to yourself is strong. I also perceive that you govern wisely and well; +and I desire to aid in so important a work." + +"Good. But you are not aware of the danger of attaching yourself thus +exclusively to me. Till to-day, if I fell, your way to France, your way +in France, was open. After to-day, it will no longer be so. I am so +surrounded with dangers, that I can scarcely escape ruin or death. The +mulattoes conspire against my power and my life. The blacks, for whom I +have made myself responsible, are yet full of passion, and not to be +relied on in the present infancy of their education. The French +officials are so many malignant spies--excepting yourself, indeed," he +added, with a smile. "Bonaparte, who rules everywhere, is surrounded by +our emigrants, who attribute their sufferings to the blacks; and he is +jealous of me. I would rather say he distrusts me. Now you see my +position. I ask no white to share its perils. If you go with +Hedouville, you shall carry with you my friendly farewell." + +"I will stay with you." + +"Thank God! Then we are friends indeed! Now to business. In the +pressing affairs of to-day, we must not overlook the future security of +the colony. The story which Hedouville will tell at home must be met +and illustrated by our statement. Write so fully to the First Consul as +that he may clearly see that it is to Hedouville's ignorance and +presumption that the present disturbances are owing." + +"It is a clear case." + +"It is to us. Make it so to him. One word first. Will you undertake +the office of governor of this town?" + +"Instead of Raymond?" + +"Instead of Raymond. He is a good man; but I erred in appointing him. +He is fit for deliberation, but not for action. But for my early +arrival, this town would have been burned to-day, for want of even a +show of defence. He is setting out now for the legislature, to which I +have appointed him, and where he will be valuable. Will you assume his +office?" + +"By no means. I desire to remain beside you, and study your mode of +government, before I attempt myself to govern." + +"I have no fixed mode of governing. I merely act as seems to me good at +the time." + +"Inspired by a generous love, ever," said Pascal. + +"Enough of this. It would be an advantage to me, and to the colony, +that you should undertake this office. There is no other white, there +is no mulatto fit for it! and the mulattoes need conciliation. If they +see the office bestowed on a black, or occupied by me, in the interim +they will feel themselves injured by Raymond's removal. You see the +advantages of your filling the office." + +"I see yet more plainly the disadvantages, unfit as I am. I cannot +accept it." + +"Very well. While you are writing, I will ascertain how the +provisioning of the ships goes on, and will give you as much time as +possible. But there is not a moment to lose. I will return presently +to sign." + +Toussaint walked up and down the corridor, receiving reports, and +issuing orders every moment. He found that the harbour was covered with +boats carrying out hogs, fowls, vegetables, and water, according to his +orders: but no baggage had been sent down from the quarters of the +French officials, though porters had been waiting for two hours past. +Scouts had come in, with news of the approach of the insurgents. This +information was communicated to Hedouville, with a hint that the ships +were nearly provisioned; but no answer was returned. Moyse sent word +that the preparations in the town were nearly complete, and the spirit +of the inhabitants improving every hour, if only the Commissary would +make haste and be gone. Toussaint found the moment was coming for him +to give the word to fire the alarm gun. + +"Are the despatches nearly ready?" he asked of Pascal, entering the +secretary's apartment. + +"Quite ready for signature," replied Pascal, drying the ink of the last +sheet. + +"Excellent!" cried Toussaint, when he had read them. "True and clear!" + +He signed and sealed them, and introduced the officer who was to be +responsible for their delivery, assuring him that he would be welcome +back to the honours which would follow the faithful discharge of his +trust. He did not forget to request Monsieur Pascal to go to rest. +There might be no rest for either of them this night. + +As Euphrosyne sat beside Monsieur Revel, who was sleeping on a couch, +after the fatigues of the morning, old Pierre beckoned her softly out, +sending in Euphrosyne's maid, and saying, as he shut the door, "She will +stay with my master fill he wakes. Mademoiselle Afra has sent for you, +mademoiselle, to see from the upper gallery what is going on. The +harbour is so crowded with boats, that they can hardly move; and it is +time they were moving pretty fast; for the battle is beginning at the +other end of the town; and the Commissary is not off yet, though the gun +was fired half-an-hour since. You heard the gun, mademoiselle?" + +"Yes. I am glad it was only a signal. You are sure it was only a +signal?" + +"So they say everywhere. This is the way, mademoiselle. Monsieur +Pascal is up here--the secretary, you know--and Mademoiselle Raymond, +and her gouvernante, and several more, who have nothing to do with the +fighting." + +"But I do not want to see any fighting," said Euphrosyne, turning upon +the stairs to descend. "Tell Mademoiselle Raymond that I cannot bear to +see fighting." + +"There is no fighting yet, mademoiselle, indeed: and many say there will +not be any. Indeed you must see such a fine sight as this. You can see +the Commander-in-chief galloping about the square, with his two +trompettes at his heels." + +Euphrosyne turned again, and ran up to the top, without once stopping. +There she was hastily introduced to Monsieur Pascal, and placed by the +gouvernante where she could see everything. + +By this time it had become a question whether the Commissary and his +suite could get away. They were making every effort to do so; but it +was clear that their road would have been blockaded if the +Commander-in-chief and his trompettes had not ridden round and round the +party of soldiers which escorted them, clearing a passage by the power +of a voice and a presence which always prevailed. Meantime, a huge body +of people, which filled all the streets in the northern quarter, was +gaining ground, pressing forwards against the peaceable opposition of +the town's-people, and the soldiers, commanded by Moyse. The clamour of +voices from that quarter was prodigious, but there were no shots. The +wharves were covered with gentlemen, ladies, children, servants, and +baggage, all being precipitated by degrees into boats, and rowed away, +while more were perpetually arriving. + +"Is not this admirable?" said Monsieur Pascal. "The secret has actually +been kept that the Commissary is on his way to the water side. See! the +cultivators are pressing on in this direction. They think he is here. +If they knew where he was, they might catch him. As it is, I believe he +will escape." + +"Oh! are they coming here? Oh, my poor grandfather!" cried Euphrosyne, +turning very pale. + +"Fear nothing," said Afra. "They will presently learn that there is +nothing to come here for. Will they not, Monsieur Pascal?" + +"No doubt: and if not, there is nothing to fear, I believe. Not a shot +has been fired yet, but from the alarm gun." + +"Oh, how it echoed from the Haut-du-Cap!" cried Afra. "I wonder what +the cultivators understood by it. See! my father's barge! There is +fighting there, surely." + +As Hedouville and his suite approached the wharf, the Governor's barge, +which had lain at a little distance from the shore, began to press in, +among the crowd of other boats, at a signal from one of the trompettes. +The other boats, which were taking in terrified women and children, +resisted this movement, and refused, at such a moment, its usual +precedence to the Governor's barge. There was a hustling, a struggling, +a shrieking, an uproar, so loud as to reach the ears and understandings +of the insurgents. The word spread that the Commissary was escaping +them. They broke through their opponents, and began a rush to the +wharves. Not a few shots were now fired; but the young ladies scarcely +heeded them in the excitement of this decisive moment. + +"Oh, they will seize him! They will tear him in pieces!" cried Afra. + +"He cannot--no, he never can get away!" exclaimed Euphrosyne. + +"And he gave me the sweetest smile as he was going out!" said the +weeping gouvernante. + +"There! Bravo! Bravo!" cried Monsieur Pascal; and Pierre echoed +"Bravo!" + +"What is it? What is it?" cried the girls. + +"He is safe! He and his party--they are all safe! Not in the barge-- +that is upset. You see those two green boats, now pulling off. They +are there. They leaped into those boats just in time." + +"Oh, look, look! what dreadful confusion!" cried Euphrosyne, covering +her eyes with her hands. + +"It is not so sure that they are safe yet," observed Pierre. "See how +the blacks are pouring into the water!" + +"And carrying the ladies and children with them, I fear," said Monsieur +Pascal, gazing anxiously through his glass. + +In fact, the negroes had no idea of giving up the pursuit because they +had reached the water. Hundreds plunged in; and their heads were seen +bobbing about all the surface of the bay. The rowers, however, pulled +well, and presently left the greater number behind, to find satisfaction +in the coolness of the element. + +"There is no great harm done," said Monsieur Pascal, still gazing +through his glass. "They have picked up two ladies and three children; +and none seem to be missing." + +"It is well that you and Monsieur were not there, Euphrosyne," observed +Afra. + +Euphrosyne shuddered, and Pierre looked all amazement at the absurdity +of such an idea. + +"No fear for us, Mademoiselle," said he. "See how empty the streets +are, down below. None but the guard left, within half a mile." + +It did indeed appear as if the whole population of the town and plain +was collected on the shores of the bay. Those who had thrown themselves +into the sea had to wait for a footing on land, unless they chose to +swim round the point--which some of them did. When at length the crowd +began to move up into the town, it was because the Commander-in-chief +was riding away, after having addressed the people. + +"What have you been about, child?" exclaimed Monsieur Revel, an hour +after. "You are never beside me when I wake." + +Euphrosyne did not point out that this was the first time she had failed +to watch his siesta. She said that she had been seeing the Commissary +set sail. + +"What, already! He is in a great hurry, I think." + +"The wind is quite fair, grandpapa. I suppose that is the reason why he +made all the ships in the harbour sail the same way. He has carried off +three frigates, and all the shipping in the roads. The sea is quite +clear, grandpapa. There is not a single sail in sight, all along, as +far as you can see. They are all off for France." + +"What in the world made him do that?" + +"Perhaps we shall hear, some day. To be sure, he had to carry a good +many people away with him." + +"Did many whites go with him?" + +"I do not know how many whites. They say fifteen hundred went +altogether; but many of these were mulattoes; and some few blacks, who +went for a frolic, and will come back again when they have seen France." + +"Strange doings! Strange doings!" sighed the old man. + +"And we shall have some glorious doings to-morrow, grandpapa. There was +a little bustle and struggle when the Commissary went away--I am glad +you were asleep, and did not hear it. There will be no more--there will +be no riot now, everybody says--the Commander-in-chief has behaved so +finely, and the people are so fond of him. The danger is all over; and +the town's-people have begged him--the Deliverer, as they call him--to +attend the great church to-morrow, in state. Te Deum will be sung in +all the churches, and it is to be a great fete-day. Are you not +pleased?" + +"Not at all pleased that Hedouville is gone, and fifteen hundred of his +friends, and all the shipping." + +"Well, but we are all at peace now, and everybody satisfied." + +"Why are we here, then? Why am I not at home?" + +"We will go home in a day or two. The streets will be noisy to-night; +and besides, one removal is enough for one day. Afra will follow her +father after to-morrow--he is gone, you know, this morning--" + +"Whose guest am I, then? If I am the guest of the negro Toussaint--" + +"You are the guest of Monsieur Raymond while Afra is here. When she +sets out, we will go home." + +"And shall I have to be swung up to the balcony, and have my brains +dashed out, while all the nuns are staring at me?" + +"Oh, no," replied Euphrosyne, laughing. "There will be nothing then to +prevent your going in your own carriage to your own door. I am afraid +we shall not find my pretty little humming-birds there. They will think +I have forgotten them." + +"Ay, those humming-birds," said Monsieur Revel, appearing to forget all +his troubles. + + + +CHAPTER SIXTEEN. + +DREAMING AWAKE. + +Though the peace of the town was now considered secure, there was little +less bustle throughout the day and night than there had been in the +morning. The cultivators were all gone home. They poured out of the +town almost as fast as they had poured into it, happy to have attained +their object, in the defeat of the French authorities, and to be +returning without the loss or punishment of a man. As they attained the +height behind which they would lose sight of the sea, they turned for +one more view of the empty bay, and of the fleet, now disappearing on +the horizon. They gave three cheers; and this was the last that was +heard of them, except by such as met them in the plain, where they sang, +as they walked, the words of their chief's proclamation. In negro +fashion, they had set it to music; and very well it sounded, when sung +from the heart. + +In the town, the soldiers were busy removing the guns, and all signs of +warfare, and the inhabitants in preparing for the fete of to-morrow. +During the night, the hurry of footsteps never ceased--so many of the +citizens were going out into the country, and returning with blossoming +shrubs to adorn the churches, and flowers with which to strew the path +of the Deliverer. Under cover of these zealous preparations did +discontent, like a serpent under the blossoms of the meadow, prepare to +fix its poisonous tooth. There were men abroad in the streets who +looked upon these preparations for rejoicing with a determination that +the rejoicings should never take place. + +The business of this arduous day being finished, Toussaint had retired +early to rest, in a chamber in the south wing of Government-house--the +part which had been inhabited by the French functionaries. He would +allow no one to occupy any apartments of the north wing (that which was +appropriated to the governor of the town), while the daughter of the +late governor and her guests remained there. His secretary, who had +taken some hours' rest before, was busy writing, after midnight, in an +apartment in the same wing. He was preparing dispatches for the Central +Assembly, now sitting in the interior. + +Monsieur Pascal was far from being on good terms with himself this +night. If, in the morning, he had doubted his capacity for being +governor of the town, he this night doubted his qualifications for the +office of secretary, which he had thus far filled to his own +satisfaction. To-night he could not command his ideas--he could not fix +his attention. He wrote a paragraph, and then he dreamed; he planned a +proposition, and then he forgot it again; and, in despair, started up to +pace the floor, and disperse intrusive thoughts by exercise. These +thoughts would intrude again, however; and he found himself listlessly +watching through the window a waving treetop, or a sinking star, while +his pen dried in his hand. + +These intrusive ideas were of Afra. He had never thought of love, in +regard to himself, even enough to despise it, or to resolve against it: +and the time was apparently come when love was to revenge himself for +this neglect. Perhaps it was this idea, as much as the attractions of +Afra herself, that haunted him to-night. He felt that his hour was +come; that he was henceforth, like other men, to be divided between two +pursuits, to be dependent upon another for his tranquillity. He felt +already that he could never again see Mademoiselle Raymond, or hear of +her, without emotion. He had never understood love at first sight, and +had hardly believed in it:--he now did not understand it; but he could +not but believe in it. He felt actually haunted. Every breath of air +that whispered in the window brought her voice. Everything that moved +in the night breeze made him start as if it was herself. At last, in +despair about his task, which must be finished before dawn, he covered +his eyes with his hands, as he leaned back in his chair, resolving not +to move till he had ascertained what it was that he wanted to write +next. + +A slight noise in the direction of the door, however, made him look up; +and he saw, advancing towards the light, no other than Afra herself. It +was no wonder that he sat upright in his chair, his pale face paler than +usual. In another moment, however, he blushed to the temples on hearing +a suppressed laugh from some one who stood behind Afra, and who said, +after some vain attempts to speak for laughing-- + +"M. Pascal takes us for ghosts." + +"By no means, Mademoiselle Revel. Ghosts do not wrap themselves in +shawls from the night air, I believe; nor come in at the door when the +shorter way is through the wall; or take a seat when asked, as I hope +you will do." And he placed chairs as he spoke. + +"We might have frightened you delightfully if we could have looked half +as ghost-like as you did, the first moment you saw us. Perhaps it was +the lamp--" + +"Hush! Euphrosyne," said Afra. "You speak too loud, and waste time. +Remember what we came for. Monsieur Pascal," she said, in a low voice, +leaning towards him over the table, and refusing to sit down, "how is +L'Ouverture guarded?" + +"Not at all, I believe. Why?" + +The girls made a gesture of terror. Both said eagerly-- + +"He is in great danger; indeed, indeed he is." + +"Where are the soldiers?" asked Euphrosyne. "Do send for them directly: +and ask him to lock himself up in the safest place till they come." + +"Tell me what you mean, and then--" + +"I think he is in danger, now the white rulers are gone, from the people +of my colour," said Afra: "and I fear, this very night." + +"Do you mean that they intend to murder him?" + +"Perhaps so. Perhaps to seize him, and send him to Rigaud;--and that +will be only a slower murder." + +"But how--" + +"I will tell you. Euphrosyne and I sat rather late behind the +jalousies, in the dark, to see the people bring in flowers and fruit +from the country for the morning. I saw many mulattoes in the walk; but +none of them had fruit or flowers. I watched them. I know their ways, +their countenances, and their gestures. I saw they were gloomy and +angry; and I found out that it is with L'Ouverture. They were plotting +mischief, I am certain." + +"But why so suddenly?--why to-night?" + +"So we thought at first; and we went to rest, intending to tell +L'Ouverture to-morrow. But the more we thought and talked about it, the +more uneasy we grew. We were afraid to go to sleep without telling some +one in this wing; so we stole along the corridors in the dark, and saw +that there was a light in this library, and ventured to look in, hoping +it might be L'Ouverture himself." + +"He is asleep in a room near. I will waken him. You are not afraid to +stay here a few moments, while I am gone?" + +"Oh, no." + +"He may wish to question you himself." + +"Tell him," said Afra, speaking rapidly, "that the mulattoes are jealous +of him, because they think he wants to have all the power in his own +hands. They say--`There go the ships! There are no whites in power +now. So much the better! But here is Raymond displaced, and +L'Ouverture is all in all. We shall have every office filled with +blacks; and the only chance for our degraded colour is in the fields or +in the removal of this black.' Tell him this: but oh! be sure you tell +him my father and I do not agree in one word of it." + +"She would do anything in the world to save him," said Euphrosyne. + +"You are dear as a daughter to him," said Monsieur Pascal, with eyes of +love, as he left them. + +"I wish I was sure of that," said Afra. "But what can be done, +Euphrosyne? He has no guard! And my father is not here, nor any one to +help us! I fancy every moment I hear them coming." + +"I am not much afraid," said Euphrosyne, her teeth chattering all the +while. "He is so powerful! He never seems to want anybody to protect-- +scarcely to help him." + +"But asleep! After midnight! Think of it! If they should seize him +and bind him before he is awake!" + +This fear was removed by his appearance, dressed, and like himself. He +smiled at the girls, offered them each an arm, and said he had a sight +to show them, if they would look at it without speaking. He led them in +the dark to a window, whence they looked down upon a courtyard, which +was full of soldiers, awake and armed. In another moment, Toussaint was +conducting them along the corridors, towards their own apartments, "You +knew!" whispered Afra. "We need not have come. I believe you always +know everything." + +"I suspected a plan to prevent the publishing of the amnesty to-morrow, +and the filling up the offices of the colony with blacks. I suspected, +but was not certain. Your intelligence has confirmed me." + +"What will happen?" asked Euphrosyne, trembling. "Will anybody be +killed?" + +"Not to-night, I trust. You may go to rest secure that no blood will be +spilled to-night; and to-morrow, you know, is a holy-day. If you hear a +step in the corridor of this your wing, do not be alarmed. I am going +to send one of my own guard." + +He left them at their door, after standing to hear them fasten it +inside. + +The girls kept awake as long as they could, calling each other's +attention to every fancied noise. They could be sure of nothing, +however, but of the march of the sentinel along the corridor. They both +slept at last, and were wakened in broad daylight by the gouvernante, +who entered in great trepidation, to say that there had been a plot +against the Commander-in-chief;--that the window of his chamber had been +entered at two o'clock by a party of mulattoes, who had all been seized +by L'Ouverture's soldiers. How it came to end so--how soldiers enough +happened to be at hand at the right moment--how it was all done without +fighting, without noise enough even to break her rest (and she always +know if anybody stirred)--the gouvernante could not tell. All she knew +was, that L'Ouverture was the most considerate creature in the world. +As soon as the eleven mulattoes who had been taken were put into +confinement, L'Ouverture had sent one of his own guards into her +corridor to prevent her being alarmed for herself and her young charge. + + + +CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. + +THE GIFT AT THE ALTAR. + +Poor Euphrosyne! She was not allowed by her grandfather to go to church +this day. Monsieur Revel insisted upon it that it would be an act of +treason for one of the French race to attend a thanksgiving for having +got rid of the French authorities. In vain did Euphrosyne represent +that the thanksgiving was for something very different--for the +deliverance of the town and district from war--for the security of white +and black inhabitants alike.--Neither Monsieur Revel nor Pierre would +hear a word of this. They were quite sure that the faster the dark +people thronged to the churches to rejoice, the more fervently should +the whites mourn and pray for mercy at home. Her grandfather said +Pierre should escort her to the chapel of the convent, where she might +go without being seen. That service was a fitting one for her to +attend; and he would spare her for a couple of hours, to be so spent, +under the eye of the abbess. This, however, Euphrosyne declined. She +preferred remaining to see from behind the blind what went on in the +Jesuits' Walk--to see Afra and her gouvernante dressed for church--to +see L'Ouverture set forth--to see the soldiers follow, marching in a +compact body, each man carrying a green bough, in token of rejoicing. +She did not know, any more than the crowd that lined the way, that in +the centre of this body of military, and concealed by the green boughs, +were the eleven mulatto prisoners. + +Afra entered quickly to say farewell; and, lifting her veil hastily, she +said, "Kiss me, and let me go. L'Ouverture says he shall take us into +church himself, as my father is not here. Mademoiselle and I are going +with Madame Ducie and her daughters; and L'Ouverture will wait for us at +the church, and lead us in. Poor Euphrosyne! I wish you were going!" + +"I never cared for anything half so much. Will you really walk all +through the church to your seat on his arm? And I should have been on +the other side, if grandpapa would have let me go! Do not stay, dear. +Tell me all about it when you come back." + +"I must be gone. There will not be standing-room for one person to +spare. You know every one of my colour in Cap is ordered to be in the +church as the hour strikes. Farewell." + +Euphrosyne had thought she had heard the crier publish this order; and +presently Pierre brought her the handbill to the same effect, which was +passing from hand to hand. If Euphrosyne and Pierre speculated +curiously on what this order might mean, what must have been the anxiety +of the mulattoes! Most of them had known of the conspiracy of the day +before: all had now heard of its failure. All were anxious to attend +the church, as staying away would amount to a confession of disloyalty; +but there was not one of them who did not go with fear and trembling, +wishing that the day was over, though dreading what it might bring +forth. + +As Afra, and the ladies who attended her, drew near the great church, +they found the streets absolutely empty. Loyalty, and the desire to +appear loyal, had carried the entire population to the churches; and the +houses appeared deserted by all but an aged or sick person, here and +there, who looked forth upon the activity he could not share. In the +centre of the area before the church were piled the arms of the garrison +and of Toussaint's troops; and on the top of the pile of arms lay the +fetters which had just been removed from the mulatto conspirators. +L'Ouverture, in giving his orders to this effect, had said that arms +should be laid aside in the act of thanksgiving for peace; and bonds, +while giving thanks for liberty. When, at length, he gave the signal +for the military to enter the church after him, some of the officers +looked earnestly to him for orders that a guard might be left with the +arms. He understood their thoughts, and replied, with a smile:-- + +"Let every one enter to worship: the arms are safe. There is no one +near who would employ them against us." + +Afra's heart beat, and she did not forget Euphrosyne, as she was led to +her seat by L'Ouverture, at whose entrance there was a half-suppressed +murmur throughout the vast congregation--a murmur which sank into +silence at the first breathing of solemn music from the choir. The +signs of gratulation for the escape of the Deliverer, first heard in the +streets, and now witnessed amidst the worshipping crowd, were too much +for the self-command of the conspirators. Their attitude became every +moment more downcast--their countenances more sullen and wretched. They +had a strong impression that their execution was to seal the +thanksgivings of this day; and in every allusion to deliverance from +danger, privy conspiracy, and rebellion, they believed that they read +their own doom. A tempting idea of escape now and then crossed the +imagination of one or other of them. As they sat with their heads upon +their breasts, the thought that they were unfettered, and their guards +unarmed, made them eager to glance around, and see if there was hope; +but whenever they raised their eyes, and whichever way they looked, they +encountered eyes seemingly as numerous as the stars of heaven--as many, +as penetrating, but not so calm. Eyes which shone with love of +L'Ouverture could not look benignly on those who would have kidnapped or +murdered him. Nor did the eleven meet with any visible sympathy from +the multitude of their own colour who were present. The greater number +looked studiously another way, in order to appear to have no connection +with them; and the countenances which were turned towards them wore a +strong expression of displeasure, as towards men who had ruined the last +hopes of a cause. The wretched men gave themselves up, at length, to +counting the minutes till the service should be over, and they should be +once more retired from this myriad of eyes, when they were roused by a +singular suspension of the service. + +After the prayer for divine pardon, ensuing upon mutual forgiveness, +L'Ouverture arose from his knees, stepped from his place, and stood +before the altar. He spoke, while all rose to hear. + +"In this place," said he, "brethren should be reconciled, or their +offering of thanksgiving will not be pure. Will all who feel enmity +towards me come to this holy spot, and exchange forgiveness?" + +He looked towards the conspirators, who gazed upon him with eager eyes, +but did not move. They could not believe that tills appeal was intended +for them, till he beckoned to them. They advanced with hesitating +steps--first one or two--then several--then all; and as they drew nearer +they rushed upon him, some kissing his hand, others kneeling and +embracing his knees. Bidding these arise, he said gently, but in a +voice so penetrating that it was heard in the farthest recess of the +building, "I must have offended you, since you have conspired against +me; and you are very guilty towards me and your country. May He who +looks down with pity on the shameful strifes of men, bear witness to our +hearty forgiveness of each other! Can you with truth say Amen?--If not +yet with truth, say it not till you have heard me." + +"Amen!" they cried, with a cry which was echoed first from the roof of +the church, and then by every voice beneath it which was not choked with +sobs. + +"If you had had patience with me," said Toussaint, "you would have found +that I am above partiality in regard to race. When I find men of your +colour fit for office, they shall be promoted to office as my friend +Raymond was. I entreat you henceforth to give me time; to watch me, +though closely, generously; and if I fail to satisfy you, to make your +complaints to myself. As for the past, let it be forgotten by all. Go +to your homes, and I trust no one will ever speak to you of this day. +As for myself, I must go where I am wanted. It may be that I shall have +to punish the leader of your colour, if he persists in disturbing the +peace of the colony. But fear not that, if you do not share in his +offences, I shall impute them to you. It is true that, however far-off, +my eye will be upon you, and my arm stretched out over you; but as long +as you are faithful, this my presence will be, your protection. After +the blessing, the amnesty I have promised will be read. This, my act of +forgiveness, is sincere. Show that yours is so, I entreat, by +cherishing the peace of the colony. By the sanctity of the place on +which we stand, let there be peace among us all, and mutual forgiveness +for all time to come!" + +"Amen!" again resounded, louder than the most joyous strain of the choir +that ever rang through the building. + +L'Ouverture went back to his place, surrounded by the eleven released +men, for whom room was made round his person by those who could best +read his eye. After the priest had given the blessing, the amnesty was +road which declared pardon for all political offences, and all personal +offences against the Commander-in-chief, up to that hour. The moment it +was concluded, those who had arrived at the church in custody, left it +in freedom, though in shame, and sped away to their several homes, as if +the death they had anticipated were at their heels. There they told +their wonderful tale to their families, turning the desolation of wives +and children into joy almost too great to be believed. + +Afra found, to her satisfaction, that no one had entered to tell +Euphrosyne of this act of L'Ouverture. Euphrosyne had been full of +perplexity about the mulattoes--almost disposed to think that the whole +race must have suddenly gone mad. She had seen them two hours before, +flocking to church with faces whose gloom contrasted strangely with +their numbers, their holiday dresses, and their eagerness to be in time +to secure admittance. She now saw them return, as if intoxicated with +joy, cheering, the whole length of the walk, and crying with an +enthusiasm, if possible, surpassing that of the blacks, "Long live the +Deliverer!" + + + +CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. + +THE COUNCIL OF FIVE. + +A council was held one morning, soon after the events just related, +whose aspect would have perplexed an old colonist, if he could have +looked forward in vision to that day. In a shady apartment of +Toussaint's house at Pongaudin sat five men, in whose hands lay the +fortunes of the colony; and only one of these men was a white. + +The five came to report well to one another of the fortunes of the +colony. Never, in the old days, could any set of counsellors have been +gathered together, who could have brought with them such proofs of the +welfare and comfort of every class of inhabitants. In former times the +colonial legislators were wont to congratulate the Assembly on the good +working of their system; which meant that the negroes were quiet, the +mulattoes kept under, and the crops promising; but under this "good +working" there were the heart-burnings of the men of colour, the woes +and the depravity of the slaves, and the domestic fears and discomforts +of the masters, arising from this depravity. Now, when there was no +oppression and no slavery, the simple system of justice was truly +"working well"; not only in the prospect of the crops, and the external +quiet of the proprietors, but in the hearts and heads of every class of +men--of perhaps every family in the island. + +Jacques Dessalines had arrived from Saint Marc, near which his estate +lay. He had to tell how the handsome crescent of freestone houses +behind the quay was extending--how busy were the wharves--how the +store-houses were overflowing--how the sea was covered with +merchant-ships--and how the cheerful hum of prosperous industry was +heard the long day through. + +Henri Christophe had come from the city of Saint Domingo, quite through +the interior of the island. He had to tell how the reinstated whites +paid him honour as he passed, on account of his friendship with +L'Ouverture; how the voice of song went up from the green valleys, and +from the cottage door; how the glorious Artibonite rolled its full tide +round the base of mountains which no longer harboured the runaway or the +thief, and through, plains adorned with plenty, and smiling with peace. + +Monsieur Raymond arrived from the sittings of the Central Assembly. +What good things he had to report will presently be seen. + +Toussaint, with Monsieur Pascal, had arrived from Cap, where all was at +present quiet, and where he had done the best he could, as he believed, +by making Moyse a general, and leaving him in charge of the town and +district, till a person could be found fit for the difficult and most +anxious office of Governor of Cap. The two most doubtful points of the +colony were Port-au-Prince and Cap Francais. They had been the great +battle-grounds of races; they were the refuge of the discontented +whites; and they were open to the operations of factious people from +France. L'Ouverture was never sure of the peace and quiet of Cap, as +long as French ships came and went; but there was peace in the town at +the present moment; and he had left that peace in the temporary charge +of one who had done much, under his eye, to establish it--who had shown +no small energy and talent, and who had every inducement that could be +conceived to go through his brief task well. Great had been Toussaint's +satisfaction in offering to Moyse this honourable opportunity of +distinguishing himself; and much had he enjoyed the anticipation of +telling Genifrede of this fulfilment of her lover's ambition, and of the +near approach of their union, in consequence. It is true, he had been +disappointed by Genifrede's receiving this news with a shudder, and by +none but forced smiles having been seen from her since; but he trusted +that this was only a fit of apprehension, natural to one who loved so +passionately, and that it would but enhance the bliss that was to +succeed. + +If, as usual, L'Ouverture had to report the situation of Cap Francais as +precarious, he brought good tidings of the South. An express had met +him on his journey homewards, with news of the total defeat of the +insurgent mulattoes by Vincent. Rigaud had surrendered his designs, and +had actually sailed, with his principal officers, for France. Thus was +the last torch of war extinguished in the colony, and matters of +peaceful policy alone lay before this Council of Five. + +The announcement of the entire pacification of the island was the first +made by L'Ouverture, when his friends and counsellors looked eagerly to +him for what he should say. + +"Vincent is a fine fellow," said Dessalines, "and a credit to his +colour." + +"He has been in the most pressing danger," observed Toussaint. "God +willed that he should escape, when escape appeared impossible." + +"What is to be done now with these cowardly devils of mulattoes?" asked +Dessalines. + +Monsieur Pascal glanced at Raymond, to see how he bore this. Raymond +chanced to meet his eye, and replied to the glance. + +"You will not take me for a cowardly mulatto, Monsieur Pascal, if I do +not resent Dessaline's words. He is speaking of the rebels, not of the +many mulattoes who, like myself, disapprove and despise all such +jealousy of race as leads to the barbarism of aggressive war." + +"Yet," said Christophe, "I wish that we should all avoid such language +as provokes jealousy of race." + +"In council one must speak plainly," replied Dessalines. "I hope +Monsieur Pascal agrees with me; for doubtless certain affairs of the +whites will be in question, with regard to which they may be uncivilly +spoken of. I was going to say, for instance (what L'Ouverture's +secretary ought to be able to bear), that if we wish this state of peace +to last, we must studiously keep the whites down--exclude them from all +situations of power and trust. You all know that, in my opinion, they +ought every one to have been done with some time ago. As that was not +effected, the next best, policy is to let them die out. One may compute +pretty well the time that this will take. If nothing better remains for +them here than to live upon their estates, without a chance of +distinction, or of employment in public affairs, they will grow tired of +the colony; the next generation, at farthest, will be glad to sell their +property, and go home; and we shall be rid of them." + +"By that time, Jacques," said Toussaint, "you and I may find ourselves +again in the midst of them, in a place whence we cannot drive them out." + +Dessalines' countenance told, as well as words could have done, that +heaven would be no heaven to him if the spirits of white men were there. +Toussaint well understood it, and resumed, "Better begin here what may +be our work there--draw closer, and learn from them the wisdom by which +they have been the masters of the world: while they may learn from us, +if they will, forgiveness of injuries." + +"I am sick of hearing all that, Toussaint. It is for ever in your +mouth." + +"Because it is for ever in my heart. You will hear it from me, Jacques, +till I see that there is no occasion to say it more. As to Vincent, I +propose to keep him, in token of honour, near my person; and to request +the Central Assembly to decree to him an estate of such value as they +shall think proper, to be purchased from the public treasury." + +"That is, supposing he should desire to remain among us," observed +Christophe; "but Vincent is fond of France." + +"Then his estate shall be in France, Henri. Our friend Raymond will +charge himself with this business in the Assembly." + +"If I bring it forward in the form of a message from yourself," replied +Raymond, "there is no doubt of its being carried by acclamation. The +finances of the colony are flourishing, and the attachment of the +Assembly to your person most enthusiastic." + +"What of the finances?" asked Toussaint. + +Raymond gave from his notes a statement which showed that both the +customs' duties and internal taxes had been productive beyond all +expectation; that the merchant-ships of almost every nation had visited +the ports; and that, after defraying the expenses of the war now closed, +there would be a surplus sufficient for the extension of the schools and +the formation of some new roads. + +"What of the attachment of the Assembly to L'Ouverture's person?" asked +Christophe. + +"Every member of it sees that the prosperity of the island is the +consequence of the vigorous prosecution of his system; and that there is +no security but in its unquestioned continuance. The Commander-in-chief +having been thus proved as eminently fitted for civil as for military +government, the Assembly proposes to constitute him president of the +colony for life, with power to choose his successor, and to appoint to +all offices." + +All eyes were now fixed upon Toussaint. He observed that a dark cloud +must have hidden France from the eyes of the Assembly, when they framed +this proposition of independent sovereignty. + +Raymond had no doubt that France would agree to have her colony governed +in the best possible manner. If there should be a difficulty about the +title of president, that of governor might be substituted. The power +being the same, there need not be a quarrel about the title. The +Assembly would yield that point--probably the only one that France would +dispute. + +Monsieur Pascal believed that France would never yield the power of +appointing to offices of importance for life; still less that of +choosing a successor. + +"France ought not to yield such powers," said Toussaint; "and the +Assembly ought not to bring upon me (representative as I am of my race) +the imputation of a personal ambition which I abjure and despise. I +could tell the Assembly that, if I had chosen to stoop under the yoke of +personal ambition, I might have been sovereign of this island without +waiting for their call. Yes," he continued, in answer to the inquiring +looks of his friends, "I have in my possession a treaty proposed to me +by the British Government, in which the English offer to make me king of +this island--in such case to be called by its ancient name of Hayti--on +condition of exclusive commerce." + +"Is it even so?" exclaimed Christophe. + +"Even so, Henri. The English believed that I had acted on my own +account; and that we, the children of France, should turn against our +mother in the day of her perplexity, and join hands with her foes." + +"Any other man would have done it," said Monsieur Pascal. + +"No, Pascal; no man who was appointed, like me, to redeem his race." + +"How do you consider that you will injure your race by accepting the +proposal of the Assembly?" asked Monsieur Pascal. "I understand why you +would accept nothing from the hands of the English; and also why you +would hesitate to assume a power which the government at home would +doubtless disallow. But how would your race be injured by honours paid +to you?" + +"You are my friend," replied Toussaint. "Is it possible that you can +fail to understand?" + +"I call myself your friend too," said Dessalines, "and I declare I can +comprehend nothing of it." + +"Your prejudices on one point are strong, Jacques; and prejudice is +blind. Monsieur Pascal is singularly unprejudiced: and therefore I +believed that he would understand me." + +"Perhaps I do: but I wish to hear your reasons from yourself." + +"Particularly," interposed Raymond, "as to whether you believe the +blacks (who are, we know, your first object) would be more benefited by +continued connection with France or by independence. I believe Monsieur +Pascal is unprejudiced enough to bear the discussion of even this +point." + +"It is that which I wish to understand clearly," observed Monsieur +Pascal. + +"Whether, if I believed my race would be benefited by the independence +of this island, I could answer it to my conscience to separate from +France," said Toussaint, "we need not decide, as I am convinced that, +amidst all the errors committed under the orders of government, it is +best for us to remain in connection with France. The civilisation of +the whites is the greatest educational advantage we could enjoy. Yes, +Jacques; and the more we despise it, the more we prove that we need it. +The next great reason for remaining faithful is that we owe it to the +white inhabitants of the colony not to deprive them of their connection +with Paris, on the one hand, nor of their liberty to live and prosper +here, on the other. As regards my own peculiar position, I feel that my +first duty is to present an example of reverence and affection for my +country, and not of a selfish ambition. I may have other personal +reasons also, tending to the same conclusion." + +"Some favourite passages in Epictetus, perhaps, or in the Bible," said +Jacques: "some reasons confirmed by the whispers of the priests. +Nothing short of priestly influence could blind you to such an +opportunity as we now have of disembarrassing ourselves of the whites +for ever." + +"Patience, Jacques!" said Toussaint, smiling. + +"I believe," said Christophe, "that there is neither book nor priest in +the case. I believe that it is your peculiar feeling towards Bonaparte, +Toussaint, which strengthens your affection for France." + +Christophe saw, by a glance at his friend's countenance, that he was +right. + +"I should act as you do," Henri continued, "if I were certain of a full +and generous reciprocity of feeling on the part of the government and of +Bonaparte. But I have no such confidence." + +"Hear him!" cried Dessalines and Raymond. + +"You were not wont to doubt Bonaparte, Henri," observed Toussaint. + +"Because, till of late, there was no reason to doubt him. I still +believe that he was in earnest at the outset, in his professed desire to +serve France for the sake of France, and not for his own. But I believe +that he has a head less strong than yours; that we shall see him +transformed from the pacificator into the aggressor--that, instead of +waiting upon his pleasure, we may have to guard against injury from +him." + +"These words from the generous Henri," said Toussaint, "are portentous." + +"I may be wrong, Toussaint. God grant, for the sake of the liberties of +the world, that I may be proved mistaken! But, in the hour of choice +between your sovereignty and continued dependence, you must not suppose +the sympathy between the First of the Whites and the First of the Blacks +to be greater than it is." + +Toussaint could have told how Henri's words only confirmed misgivings as +to the public virtues of Bonaparte, which had long troubled his secret +soul. + +"Are you willing," he asked of Monsieur Pascal, "to tell us your +anticipations as to the career of the First Consul? Do not speak, if +you prefer to be silent." + +"I cannot predict confidently," replied Pascal; "but I should not be +surprised if we see Bonaparte unable to resist the offer of sovereignty. +Once crowned, and feeling himself still compelled to speak incessantly +of the good of his country, his views of good will become debased. He +will invest France with military glory, and sink into ruin by becoming a +conqueror;--a vulgar destiny, in this age--a destiny which Alexander +himself would probably scorn, if now born again into the world." + +"Alas! my poor blacks, if this be indeed Bonaparte!" exclaimed +Toussaint. "Their supreme need is of peace; and they may become the +subjects of a conqueror." + +"And happy if they be no worse than subjects," said Christophe. + +"If," said Toussaint, "Bonaparte respects the liberties of the French no +more than to reduce them from being a nation to being an army, he will +not respect the liberties of the blacks, and will endeavour to make them +once more slaves." + +"Ah! you see!" exclaimed Dessalines. + +"I neither see nor believe, Jacques. We are only speculating. I will +be thoroughly faithful to my allegiance, till Bonaparte is +unquestionably unfaithful to the principles by which he rose. At the +moment, however, when he lifts his finger in menace of the liberties of +the blacks, I will declare myself the Champion of Saint Domingo;--not, +however, through the offices of the English, but by the desire of those +whom I govern." + +"Say King of Hayti," exclaimed Christophe. "This island was Hayti, when +it lay blooming in the midst of the ocean, fresh from the will of God, +thronged with gentle beings who had never lifted up a hand against each +other. It was Hayti when it received, as into a paradise, the first +whites who came into our hemisphere, and who saw in our valleys and +plains the Eden of the Scripture. It became Saint Domingo when vice +crept into it, and oppression turned its music into sighs, and violence +laid it waste with famine and the sword. While the blacks and whites +yet hate each other, let it be still Saint Domingo: but when you +withdraw us from jealousy and bloodshed, let it again be Hayti. While +it holds its conquered name there will be heart-burnings. If it became +our own Hayti, we might not only forgive, but forget. It would be a +noble lot to be King of Hayti!" + +"If so ordained, Henri. We must wait till it be so. My present clear +duty is to cultivate peace, and the friendship of the whites. They must +have their due from us, from Bonaparte himself, to the youngest infant +in Cap. You may trust me, however, that from the hour that there is a +whisper about slavery in the lightest of Bonaparte's dreams, I will +consent to be called by whatever name can best defend our race." + +"It will be too late then," said Dessalines. "Why wait till Bonaparte +tells you his dreams? We know, without being told, that all the dreams +of all whites are of our slavery." + +"You are wrong, Jacques. That is no more true of all whites, than it is +true of all blacks that they hate the whites as you do." + +"You will find too late that I am not wrong," said Jacques. "Remember, +in the day of our ruin, that my timely advice to you was to send for +your sons from Paris, and then avow yourself King of Saint Domingo--or +of Hayti, if you like that name better. To me that name tells of +another coloured race, whom the whites wantonly oppressed and destroyed. +One cannot traverse the island without hearing the ghosts of those poor +Indians, from every wood and every hill, calling to us for vengeance on +their conquerors." + +"Take care how you heed those voices, Dessalines," said Christophe. +"They are not the voices of the gentle Indians that you hear; for the +whites who injured them are long ago gone to judgment." + +"And if they were still in the midst of us," said Toussaint, "vengeance +is not ours. Jacques knows that my maxim in the field--my order, which +may not be transgressed--is, No retaliation! I will have the same rule +obeyed in my council-chamber, as we all, I trust, observe it in our +prayers. Jacques, you have not now to learn my principle and my +command--no retaliation. Have you ever known it infringed, since the +hour when you found me at Breda, and made me your chief?" + +"Never." + +"Nor shall you while I am obeyed. If the hour for defence comes we +shall be ready. Till then we owe allegiance." + +"You will find it too late," Dessalines said, once more. + +"The Assembly," said Toussaint to Raymond, "will withdraw their +proposition regarding my being President of this island. I have all +needful power as Commander-in-chief of the colony." + +"They have already published their request," said Raymond; "which I do +not regret, because--" + +"I regret it much," said Toussaint. "It will incense France." + +"I do not regret it," pursued Raymond, "because it renders necessary the +publication of your refusal, which cannot but satisfy France." + +"On the point of Toussaint's supposed ambition it may satisfy France," +observed Christophe. "But if Bonaparte be jealous of the influence of +the First of the Blacks, this homage of the Assembly will not abate his +jealousy." + +"Have you more messages for us, Raymond?--No. Then Monsieur Pascal and +I will examine these reports, and prepare my replies. This our little +council is memorable, friends, for being the first in which we could +report of the entire pacification of the colony. May it be only the +first of many! My friends, our council is ended." + + + +CHAPTER NINETEEN. + +LEISURE FOR ONCE. + +Precious to the statesman are the moments he can snatch for the common +pleasures which are strewed over the earth--meant, apparently, for the +perpetual enjoyment of all its inhabitants. The child gathers flowers +in the meadow, or runs up and down a green bank, or looks for birds' +nests every spring day. The boy and girl hear the lark in the field and +the linnet in the wood, as a matter of course: they walk beside the +growing corn, and pass beneath the rookery, and feel nothing of its +being a privilege. The sailor beholds the stars every bright night of +the year, and is familiar with the thousand hues of the changing sea. +The soldier on his march sees the sun rise and set on mountain and +valley, plain and forest. The citizen, pent up in the centre of a +wide-built town, has his hour for play with his little ones, his +evenings for his wife and his friends. But for the statesman, none of +these are the pleasures of every day. Week after week, month after +month, he can have no eyes for the freshness of nature, no leisure for +small affairs, or for talk about things which cannot be called affairs +at all. He may gaze at pictures on his walls, and hear music from the +drawing-room, in the brief intervals of his labours; and he may now and +then be taken by surprise by a glimpse of the cool bright stars, or by +the waving of the boughs of some neighbouring tree. He may be beguiled +by the grace or the freak of some little child, or struck: by some +wandering flower scent in the streets, or some effect of sunlight on the +evening cloud. But with these few and rare exceptions, he loses sight +of the natural earth, and of its free intercourses, for weeks and months +together; and precious in proportion--precious beyond its utmost +anticipation--are his hours of holiday when at length they come. He +gazes at the crescent moon hanging above the woods, and at the long +morning shadows on the dewy grass, as if they would vanish before his +eyes. He is intoxicated with the gurgle of the brook upon the stones, +when he seeks the trout stream with his line and basket. The whirring +of the wild bird's wing upon the moor, the bursting of the chase from +cover, the creaking of the harvest wain--the song of the vine-dressers-- +the laugh of the olive-gatherers--in every land where these sounds are +heard, they make a child once more of the statesman who may for once +have come forth to hear them. Sweeter still is the leisure hour with +children in the garden or the meadow, and the quiet stroll with wife or +sister in the evening, or the gay excursion during a whole day of +liberty. If Sunday evenings are sweet to the labourer whose toils +involve but little action of mind, how precious are his rarer holidays +to the state labourer, after the wear and tear of toil like his--after +his daily experience of intense thought, of anxiety, and fear! In the +path of such should spring the freshest grass, and on their heads should +fall the softest of the moonlight, and the balmiest of the airs of +heaven, if natural rewards are in any proportion to their purchase money +of toil. + +The choicest holiday moments of the great negro statesman were those +which he could spend with his wife and children, away from observing +eyes and listening ears. He was never long pent up in the city, or +detained by affairs within the walls of his palace. His business lay +abroad, for the most part; and he came and went continually, on +horseback, throughout every part of the island. Admirable as were his +laws and regulations, and zealously as he was served by his agents of +every description, there was no security for the working of his system +so good as his own frequent presence among the adoring people. The same +love which made him so powerful abroad interfered with his comfort at +home. There were persons ever on the watch for a glimpse of him, eager +to catch every word and every look: and the very rarest of his pleasures +was unwitnessed intercourse with his family. + +At length, when Hedouville was gone away from one port, and Rigaud from +another--when neither spy nor foe appeared to remain--it seemed to be +time for him, who had given peace and leisure to everybody else, to +enjoy a little of it himself. He allowed his children, therefore, to +fix a day when he should go with them on a fishing excursion round the +little island of Gonaives, which was a beautiful object from the windows +of the house at Pongaudin, as it lay in the midst of the bay. + +The excursion had answered completely. General Vincent, leaving the +south of the island in a state of perfect tranquillity, had arrived to +enjoy his honours in the presence of L'Ouverture and his family. Madame +Dessalines had come over from Saint Marc. As Afra was of the party, +Monsieur Pascal had found it possible to leave his papers for a few +hours. Toussaint had caught as many fish as if he had been Paul +himself. He had wandered away with his girls into the wood, till he was +sent to the boats again by the country people who gathered about him; +and he lay hidden with Denis under the awning of the barge, playing duck +and drake on the smooth water, till the islanders found out where he +was, and came swimming out, to spoil their sport. It was a day too soon +gone: but yet he did not consider it ended when they landed at +Pongaudin, at ten o'clock. The moon was high, the gardens looked +lovely; and he led his wife away from the party, among the green alloys +of the shrubbery. + +"I want to know what you think," exclaimed Madame L'Ouverture, as they +emerged from a shaded walk upon a grass plot, on which the light lay, +clear and strong--"I want to ask you"--and as she spoke, she looked +round to see that no one was at hand--"whether you do not think that +General Vincent loves Aimee." + +"I think he does. I suspected it before, and to-day I am sure of it." + +"And are not you glad?" + +"That partly depends on whether Aimee loves him. I doubt whether +Vincent, who is usually a confident fellow enough, is so happy about the +matter as you are." + +"Aimee is not one who will ever show herself too ready--Aimee is very +quiet--" + +"Well, but, is she ready in her heart? Does she care about Vincent?" + +"I do not know that she does quite, yet--though I think she likes him +very much, too. But surely she will love him--she must love him--so +much as he loves her--and so delightful, so desirable a match as it is, +in every way!" + +"You think it so." + +"Why, do not you? Consider how many years we have known him, and what +confidence you had in him when you sent him with our dear boys to Paris! +And now he has done great things in the south. He comes, covered with +glory, to ask us for our Aimee. What could be more flattering?" + +"It was our child's future happiness that I was thinking of, when I +seemed to doubt. Vincent is full of good qualities; but he is so wholly +French that--" + +"Not so French as Monsieur Pascal, who was born, brought up, and +employed at Paris; and you are pleased that he should marry Afra." + +"Vincent is more French than Pascal, though he is a black. He is +devoted to Bonaparte--" + +"What of that?" said Madame L'Ouverture, after a pause. "He is devoted +to you also. And are you not yourself devoted to France and to +Bonaparte? Do we not pray together for him every day of our lives?" + +"Remember, Margot, to pray for him every day, as long as you live, if I +am separated from you by death or otherwise. Pray that such a blessing +may rest upon him as that he may be wise to see his duty, and strong to +do it. If he injures us, pray that he may be forgiven." + +"I will," replied Margot, in a low voice; "but--" + +She was lost in considering what this might mean. + +"As for Vincent," resumed Toussaint, "my doubt is whether, with his +views and tastes, he ought to ally himself with a doomed man." + +"Vincent is ambitious, my dear husband; and, even if he did not love our +child as he does, he might be anxious to ally himself with one so +powerful--so full of honours--with so very great a man as you. I would +not speak exactly so if we were not alone: but it is very true, now that +the Central Assembly has declared you supreme in the colony. Consider +what Vincent must think of that! And he has travelled so much in the +island, that he must have seen how you deserve all that is said of you. +He has seen how all the runaways have come down from the mountains, and +the pirates in from the reefs and the coves; and how they are all +honestly cultivating the fields, and fishing in the bays. He has seen +how rich the whole island is growing; and how contented, and +industrious, and honest, the people are, in this short time. He has +seen that all this is your work: and he may well be ambitious to be your +son-in-law." + +"Unless he has the foresight to perceive, with all this, that I am a +doomed man." + +"I thought you said so--I thought I heard that word before," said +Margot, in a trembling voice; "but I could not believe it." + +Toussaint knew by her tone that some vague idea of evil agency--some +almost forgotten superstition was crossing her imagination: and he +hastened to explain. + +"Do not imagine," said he, solemnly, "do not for a moment suppose that +God is not on our side--that He will for a moment forsake us. But it is +not always His pleasure that His servants should prosper, though their +good work prospers in the end. I firmly trust and believe that our +Father will not permit us to be made slaves again; but it may be His +will that I and others should fall in defending our freedom." + +"But the wars are at an end. Your battles are all over, my love." + +"How can we be sure of that, when Bonaparte has yet to learn what the +Assembly has done? Hedouville is on the way home, eager to report of +the blacks, while he is ignorant of their minds, and prejudiced about +their conduct. Monsieur Papalier and other planters are at Paris, at +the ear of Bonaparte, while his ear is already so quickened by jealousy, +that it takes in the lightest whisper against me and my race. How can +we say that my battles are over, love, when every new success and honour +makes this man, who ought to be my brother, yet more my foe?" + +"Oh, write to him! Write to him, and tell him how you would have him be +a brother to you!" + +"Have I not written twice, and had no reply but neglect? I wrote to him +to announce the earliest prospect of entire peace. I wrote again, to +explain my intercourse with his agent Roume, and requested his sanction +of what I had done. There has been no reply." + +"Then write again. Write this very night!" + +"I wrote yesterday, to inform him fully concerning the new constitution +framed by the Assembly. I told him that it should be put in force +provisionally, till the pleasure of his government is made known." + +"Oh, then, that must bring an answer." + +Toussaint was silent. + +"He must send some sort of answer to that," pursued Margot. "What +answer do you think it will be?" + +"You remember the great eagle that I shot, when we lived under the +mountains, Margot? Do you remember how the kids played in the pasture, +with the shadow of that huge eagle floating above them?" + +Margot, trembling, pressed closer to her husband's side. + +"You saw to-day," he continued, "that troop of gay dolphins, in the +smooth sea beyond the island. You saw the shark, with its glaring eyes, +opening its monstrous jaws, as it rose near the pretty creatures, and +hovered about them." + +"But you shot the eagle," cried Margot; "and Denis wounded the shark." + +"Heaven only knows how it may end with us," said Toussaint; "but we have +the shadow of Bonaparte's jealousy over us, and danger all about us. +The greater our prosperity, the more certain is it to bring all France +down upon us." + +"Oh, can Bonaparte be so cruel?" + +"I do not blame him for this our danger; and any future woe must all go +to the account of our former slavery. We negroes are ignorant, and have +been made loose, deceitful, and idle, by slavery. The whites have been +made tyrannical and unjust, by being masters. They believe us now +ambitious, rebellious, and revengeful, because it would be no wonder if +we were so. All this injustice comes of our former slavery. God forbid +that I should be unjust too, and lay the blame where it is not due! For +nothing done or feared in Saint Domingo do I blame Bonaparte." + +"Then you think--Oh! say you think there is no danger for Placide and +Isaac. Bonaparte is so kind to them! Surely Placide and Isaac can be +in no danger!" + +"There is no fear for their present safety, my love." + +Toussaint would not for the world have told of his frequent daily +thought and nightly dream, as to what might be the fate of these +hostages, deliberately sent to France, and deliberately left there now. +He would not subject himself to entreaties respecting their return which +he dared not listen to, now that their recall would most certainly +excite suspicions of the fidelity of the blacks. Not to save his +children would L'Ouverture do an act to excite or confirm any distrust +of his people. + +"Bonaparte is kind to them, as you say, Margot. And if Vincent should +win our Aimee, that will be another security for the lads; for no one +doubts his attachment to France." + +"I hope Vincent will win her. But when will you send for the boys? +They have been gone very long. When will you send?" + +"As soon as affairs will allow. Do not urge me, Margot. I think of it +day and night." + +"Then there is some danger. You would not speak so if there were not. +Oh! my husband! marry Vincent to Aimee! You say that will be a +security." + +"We must not forget Aimee herself, my love. If she should hereafter +find her heart torn between her lover and her parents--if the hour +should come for every one here to choose between Bonaparte and me, and +Vincent should still adore the First of the Whites, what will become of +the child of the First of the Blacks? Ought not her parents to have +foreseen such a struggle?" + +"Alas! what is to become of us all, Toussaint?" + +"Perhaps Genifrede is the happiest of our children, Margot. She looks +anxious to-day; but in a few more days, I hope even her trembling heart +will be at rest." + +"It never will," said. Margot, mournfully. "I think there is some evil +influence upon our poor child, to afflict her with perpetual fear. She +still fears ghosts, rather than fear nothing. She enjoys nothing, +except when Moyse is by her side." + +"Well, Moyse will presently be by her side; and for life.--I was proud +of him, Margot, last week, at Cap. I know his military talents, from +the day when we used to call the boy General Moyse. I saw by his eye, +when I announced him as General Moyse in Cap, that he remembered those +old days on the north shore. Oh, yes, I was aware of his talents in +that direction, from his boyhood; but I found in him power of another +kind. You know what a passionate lover he is." + +"Yes, indeed. Never did I see such a lover!" + +"Well, he puts this same power and devotedness into his occupation of +the hour, whatever it may be." + +"Do you mean that he forgets Genifrede, when he is away from her?" + +"I rather hope that it is the remembrance of her that animates him in +his work. I'm sure that it is so; for I said a few words to him about +home, which made him very happy. If I were to see him failing, as we +once feared he would--if I saw him yielding to his passions--to the +prejudices and passions of the negro and the slave, my reproof would be, +`You forget Genifrede.' Moyse has yet much to learn--and much to +overcome; yet I look upon Genifrede as perhaps the most favoured of our +children. It is so great a thing to be so beloved!" + +"It is indeed the greatest thing." Margot stopped, as a turn in the +walk brought them in view of the house. The long ranges of verandah +stood in the moonlight, checkered with the still shadows of the +neighbouring trees. Every window of the large white mansion gave out a +stream of yellow light, to contrast with the silvery shining of the +moon. "This is very unlike the hut we went to when we were married, +Toussaint. Yet I was quite happy and contented. It is indeed the +greatest thing to be loved." + +"And have you not that greatest thing here too? Do I not love you, my +Margot?" + +"Oh, yes! Yes, indeed, we love each other as much as we did then--in +that single room, with its earthen floor, and its cribs against the +wall, and the iron pot in the fireplace, and the hen pecking before the +door. But, Toussaint, look at the difference now! Look at this +beautiful house, and all the gardens and cane-pieces--and think of our +palace at Port-au-Prince--and think of the girls as they look at church, +or in the boat to-day--and how the country is up, rejoicing, wherever +you go--and how the Assembly consider you--think of all that has +happened since, the wedding-day of ours at Breda! It is so fine--so +wonderful, that you shall not frighten me about anything that can +happen. I am sure the blessing of God is upon you, my husband; and you +shall not make me afraid." + +"I would have none be afraid while God reigns, Margot. May you ever say +that you will not fear! The blessing of God may be on us now, love; but +it was never more so than when we went home to our hut at Breda. When I +lay under the trees at noon, taking care of the cattle, how many things +I used to think of to say to you when I came home!" + +"And so did I, as I kneeled at my washing by the brook-side, and you +were driving Monsieur Bayou, twenty miles off, and were expected home in +the evening. How much there was to say at the end of those days!" + +"It was not for ourselves then, Margot, that we have been raised to what +we are. We were as happy drawing water in the wood, and gathering +plantains in the negro-grounds, as we have ever been in these +shrubberies. We were as merry in that single room at Breda as in this +mansion, or in our palace. It is not for our own sakes that we have +been so raised." + +"It is pleasant for our children." + +"It is. And it is good for our race. It is to make us their servants. +Oh! Margot, if ever you find a thought of pride stirring at your heart, +remember that if the blacks were less ignorant and more wise, it would +not matter whether we lived as we used to do, or as we live now. It is +because we negroes are vain and corrupted, that show and state are +necessary: and the sight of our show and state should, therefore, humble +us." + +"I am sure you are not fond of show and state. You eat and drink, and +wait upon yourself, as you did at Breda; and your uniform is the only +fine dress you like to wear. I am sure you had rather have no court." + +"Very true. I submit to such state as we have about us, for the sake of +the negroes who need it. To me it is a sacrifice; but, Margot, we must +make sacrifices--perhaps some which you may little dream of, while +looking round upon our possessions, and our rank, and our children, +worshipped as they are. We must carry the same spirit of sacrifice into +all our acts; and be ready to suffer, and perhaps to fall, for the sake +of the blacks. The less pride now, Margot, the less shame and sorrow +then!" + +"I wish not to be proud," said Margot, trembling--"I pray that I may not +be proud; but it is difficult--Hark! there is a footstep! Let us turn +into this alley." + +"Nay," said Toussaint; "it is Monsieur Pascal. No doubt I am wanted." + +"For ever wanted!" exclaimed Margot. "No peace!" + +"It was not so at Breda," said Toussaint, smiling. "I was just speaking +of sacrifice, you know: and this is not the last night that the moon +will shine.--News, Monsieur Pascal?" + +"News from Cap," replied Monsieur Pascal, in a depressed tone. "Bad +news! Here are dispatches. Not a moment is to be lost." + +"There is light enough," said Toussaint, turning so that the moonlight +fell upon the page. + +While he read, Monsieur Pascal told Madame L'Ouverture that messengers +had brought news of a quarrel at Cap--a quarrel between the races, +unhappily, about Hedouville's proclamation again;--a quarrel in which +several whites had been killed. All was presently quiet; but the whites +were crying out for vengeance. + +"No peace, as you say, Margot," observed Toussaint, when he had run over +the letters. "See what a strong hand and watchful eye our poor people +require! The curse of slavery is still upon us." + +"How is Moyse? Tell me only that. What is Moyse doing?" + +"I do not understand Moyse, nor what he is doing," said Toussaint +gloomily. "Monsieur Pascal--" + +"Your horses are coming round," said Pascal, "and I shall be there +almost as soon as you." + +"Right: and Laxabon. From me, ask the favour of Father Laxabon to +follow without delay. Margot, take care of poor Genifrede. Farewell!" + +As he passed through the piazza, to mount his horse, Toussaint saw +Genifrede standing there, like a statue. He embraced her, and found her +cold as marble. He returned to his family for an instant, to beg that +she might not be immediately disturbed. In an hour or two she might be +able to speak to her mother or sister; and she could not now. Once more +he whispered to her that he would send her early news, and was gone. + +Again and again Aimee looked timidly forth, to see if she might venture +to approach her sister. Once Madame L'Ouverture went to her, and once +Therese; but she would say nothing but "Leave me!" From her they went +to Afra, who wept incessantly, though she did not reject their +consolations. The night wore on wearily and drearily. When the moon +set, and the damps were felt wherever the air penetrated, Madame +L'Ouverture went once more to Genifrede, determined to take her to her +own chamber, and win her to open her heart. But Genifrede was not +there, nor in her chamber. The mother's terror was great, till a +cultivator came to say that Mademoiselle L'Ouverture had gone a journey, +on horseback, with her brother Denis to take care of her. Denis's bed +was indeed found empty: and two horses were gone from the stables. They +had fled to Moyse, no doubt. The hope was that they might fall in with +Father Laxabon on the road, who would surely bring the poor girl back. +There was another road, however: and by this road Therese declared that +she would follow. + +"Yes, yes--go!" exclaimed Madame L'Ouverture. "She will heed you, if +any one. She thinks you understand her. She says--" + +"She loves me," said Therese, sighing, "because--I hardly know--but +Heaven forgive me, if it be as she says!" + +"She says you hate the whites," declared Aimee. "If it be so, may +indeed Heaven forgive you! Moyse hates the whites: and you see how +wretched we are!" + +"Aimee, do not be hard. We are made to love--my heart inclines to all +who are about me:--but if there are some--if one cannot--Oh, Aimee, do +not be hard!" + +"It is those who hate who are hard," said Aimee, whose tears fell fast, +in sympathy with Afra's. "Is it not so, Afra?" + +"Well, I will go," said Therese, gently. "One kiss, Aimee, for +Genifrede's sake!" + +"For your own," said Aimee, tenderly embracing her. "Bring back poor +Genifrede! Tell her we will devote ourselves to her." + +"Bring back my child," said Margot. "Be sure you tell her that there +may be good news yet. Moyse may have explanations to give;--he may do +great things yet." + +These words renewed Afra's weeping, in the midst of which Therese +hastened away: when the remnant of the anxious family retired to their +chambers, not to sleep, but to pray and wait. + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY. + +PERPLEXITY. + +As it might be supposed, Monsieur Revel and his grandchild had no desire +to remain in Government-house a moment longer than was necessary, as +Afra was obliged to leave it. Afra's last care, before quitting Cap, +was to see that her friends were properly escorted to their home. + +Euphrosyne was still struggling with the grief of saying farewell to +Afra, when she entered the pleasant sitting-room at home; but she smiled +through her tears when she saw how cheerful it looked. There was a +mild, cool light in the room, proceeding from the reflection of the +evening sunshine from the trees of the convent garden. The blinds were +open; and the perspective of one of the alleys was seen in the large +mirror on the wall--the shrubs noiselessly waving, and the gay flowers +nodding, in a sunlight and breeze which were not felt within. +Euphrosyne's work lay upon the table; the needle sticking in the very +stitch of embroidery at which she had laid it down, when she went to see +if her grandfather was awake, on the morning of their alarm. Some loose +music had been blown down from the stand upon the floor; and the bouquet +of flowers was dead, the water dried up, and the leaves fallen to dust; +but when these were removed, there were no further signs of neglect and +desertion. + +"How bright, how natural everything looks!" cried Euphrosyne. "I do +love this room. This is the place that we thought was to be sacked and +burnt! I won't believe such nonsense another time. I never will be +frightened again. Grandpapa, do not you love this room?" + +"It is a pretty room, my dear; and it looks very bright when you are in +it." + +"Oh, thank you!" she cried, dropping a sportive curtsey. + +"And now, will you look; at my work--(sit down here)--and tell +me--(where are your glasses?)--tell me whether you ever saw a prettier +pattern. It is a handkerchief fit for a princess." + +"It is very prettily worked, my dear. And whom is it for? Some very +elegant lady. Is it for the First Consul's lady? They say she is the +most elegant lady in the world--though she is a Creole, like you, my +darling. Is your pretty handkerchief for her?" + +"No, grandpapa. I dare say she has all the ladies in France to work for +her. I should like, if you have no objection, to send this to Madame +L'Ouverture!" + +"To Madame L'Ouverture. Why? Has not she daughters to work +handkerchiefs for her, and plenty of money to buy them? Why should you +prick your fingers in her service?" + +"I should like that L'Ouverture himself should observe, some day, that +she has a beautiful handkerchief; and then, if he should ask, he would +find out that there is a little Creole girl who is very grateful to him +for his generosity to her colour." + +"Do not speak of colour, child. What expressions you pick up from Afra, +and such people! It is our distinction that we have no colour--that we +are white." + +"That is the distinction of the nuns, I know; but I hoped it was not +mine yet. I do not forget how you pinch my cheek sometimes, and talk +about roses." + +"What is there? What do I see?" cried the old man, whose mind seemed +open to everything agreeable that met his observation, on his return +home. "Are those the same little birds that you were wooing the other +morning? No creature that has ever seen you, my dear, ever forgets you. +Nothing that you have spoken to ever deserts you. Shy creatures, that +are afraid of everybody else, haunt you." + +"Oh! you are thinking of the little spotted fawn." + +"Spotted fawn or squirrel--baby or humming-bird--it is always the same, +child. They all come to you. I dare say these little creatures have +been flitting about the balcony and these rooms, ever since we went +away. Now they have found you." + +"They do not seem to care much about me, now we have met," said +Euphrosyne. She followed them softly to the balcony, and along it, as +far as the window of Monsieur Revel's room. There she found, stuck in +the bars of the balcony, a rather fresh branch of orange-blossoms. +While she was examining this, in some surprise, old Raphael spoke to her +from below. He said he had made bold to climb up by his ladder, twice a +day, with something to entice the birds to that window; as he supposed +that, was what she wished, if she had been at home. The abbess had +given him leave to take this liberty. + +"There!" said Monsieur Revel, when she, flew to tell him, "there is +another follower to add to your fawns and kittens. Old Raphael is +considered a crusty fellow everywhere; and you see how different he is +with you!" + +"I am very glad," declared Euphrosyne. "It is a pretty sight to amuse +you with, every morning when you wake. It is kind of Raphael; and of +the abbess too." + +"I am pleased that the abbess and you should be good friends, +Euphrosyne, because--Ah! that is the way," he said, in a mortified tone, +and throwing himself back in his chair, as he followed with his eyes the +flittings of the girl about the room, after her birds. "You have got +your own way with everybody, and we have spoiled you; and there is no +speaking to you upon a subject that you do not like. You will not hear, +though it is a thing that lies heavy at the heart of a dying old man." + +"I will hear you, if you talk to me all my life," said Euphrosyne, with +brimming eyes, seating herself on a low stool at the old man's knees. + +"And if you hear me, you will not give me a grave, steady answer." + +"Try me," said she, brushing away the gathering tears. "I am not crying +about anything you are going to say; but only because--Oh, grandpapa! +how could you think I would not listen to you?" + +"Well, well, my love! I see that you are willing now. You remember +your promise to enter the convent, if I desired it." + +"Yes." + +"You talk of nothing being changed by our alarm, two days ago, because +this table stands in the middle of the room, and the ants and beetles +have not carried off your pretty work. Hey!" + +"May I speak, grandpapa?" + +"Speak." + +"I said so because nobody's house is burnt, or even robbed; and nobody +has been killed, or even hurt." + +"But, nevertheless, there is a great change. Our friends, my old +friends, all whom I feel I could rely upon in case of need, are gone to +France with Hedouville." + +"Oh, grandpapa! very few whites are gone--they were chiefly mulattoes +who went with Hedouville; and so many whites remain! And though they +are not, except, perhaps, Monsieur Critois, exactly our friends, yet we +can easily make acquaintance with them." + +"No, no, child. If they were not upstarts, as some of them are, and +others returned emigrants, of whom I know nothing, it is too late now +for me to make now friends. My old companions are gone, and the place +is a desert to me." + +His hands hung listlessly, as he rested on the arms of his chair. +Euphrosyne looked up in his face, while she said, as well as she could +for tears, "If you feel it so now, what will it be when I am shut up in +the convent, and you will hardly ever see me?" + +"That is no affair of yours, child. I choose that you should go." + +"Whose affair is it, if it is not mine? I am your grandchild--your only +one; and it is my business, and the greatest pleasure I have in the +world, to be with you, and wait upon you. If I leave you, I shall hear +my poor mother reproaching me all day long. Every morning at my +lessons, every night at my prayers, I shall hear her saying, `Where is +your grandfather? How dare you desert him when he has only you left?' +Grandpapa, I shall be afraid to sleep alone. I shall learn to be afraid +of my blessed mother." + +"It is time you were sent somewhere to learn your duty, I think. We are +at a bad pass enough; but there must be some one in the colony who can +tell you that it is your duty to obey your grandfather--that it is your +duty to perform what you promised him." + +"I can preach that myself, grandpapa, when there is nobody else who can +do it better. It is just what I have been teaching little Babet, this +month past. I have no more to learn about that; but I will tell you +what I do want to learn--whether you are most afraid of my growing up +ignorant, or--(do just let me finish, and then we shall agree +charmingly, I dare say)--whether you are most afraid of my growing up +ignorant, or unsteady, or ill-mannered, or wicked, or what? As for +being unsafe, I do not believe a word of that." + +"Everything--all these things, child. I am afraid of them all." + +"What, all! What a dreadfully unpromising creature I must be!" + +"You know you must be very ignorant. You have had no one to teach you +anything." + +"Then I will go to the convent to study for four, six, eight, twelve +hours a day. I shall soon have learned everything in the world at that +rate: and yet I can go on singing to you in the evenings, and bringing +your coffee in the mornings. Twelve hours' study a day may perhaps make +me steady, too. That was the next thing, was it not?" + +"Now have done. Say only one thing more--that you will perform your +promise." + +"That is a thing of course; so I may just ask one other thing. Who is +to wait upon you in my place? Ah! I see you have not fixed upon any +one yet; and, let me tell you, it will be no easy matter to find one who +makes coffee as I do. Then, you have been waited upon by a slave all +your life. Yes, you have; and you have a slave now sitting at your +knee. People do not like being slaves now-a-days--nobody but me. Now I +like it of all things. So, what a pity to change!" + +"I know," said the old man, sighing, "that I am apt to be peremptory. I +know it is difficult to please me sometimes. It is very late in life--I +am very old to set about improving: but I will try not to hurt any one +who will wait upon me, as I am afraid I have often hurt you, my dear. I +will make any effort, if I can only feel that you are safe. Some one +has been telling you stories of old times, I see. Perhaps you can ask +any servant that we may engage--you may make it your request that she +will bear with me." + +"Oh, grandpapa! Stop, grandpapa! I cannot bear it," cried the sobbing +girl. "I never will joke again, if you do not see that it is because I +love you so, that I will venture anything rather than leave you. We all +love you dearly. Pierre would not for the world live with anybody else. +You know he would not. And that is just what I feel. But I will do +everything you wish. I will never refuse again--I will never jest, or +try, even for your own sake, to prevent your having all your own way. +Only be so kind, grandpapa, as never to say anything against yourself +again. Nobody else would dare to do such a thing to me, and I cannot +bear it." + +"Well, well, love! I see now that no one has been babbling to you. We +will never quarrel any more. You will do as I wish, and we will have no +more disputing. Are they bringing our coffee?" + +When Euphrosyne came out from placing her grandfather's pillows, and +bidding him good-night, she found Pierre lingering about, as if wanting +to speak to her. + +"Have you anything to say to me. Pierre?" + +"Only just to take the liberty of asking, Mademoiselle, whether you +could not possibly gratify my master in the thing he has set his heart +upon. If you could, Mademoiselle, you may rely on it, I would take +every care of him in your absence." + +"I have no doubt, Pierre, of your doing your part." + +"Your part and mine are not the same, I know, Mademoiselle. But he is +so persuaded of there being danger for you here, that everything you do +for him goes to his heart." + +"Have _you_ that idea, Pierre?" + +"Indeed, Mademoiselle, I know nothing about it--more than that it takes +a long time for people in a town, or an island, to live comfortably +together, on equal terms, after having all their lives looked upon one +another as tyrants and low revengeful servants." + +"I do not think any one looks on me as a tyrant, or would think of +hurting poor grandpapa or me. How you shake your head, Pierre! We have +lived seven years in peace and quiet--sometimes being afraid, but never +having found cause for fear. However, if grandpapa really is uneasy--" + +"That is the point, Mademoiselle. He is so." + +"Do you suppose I could see the abbess, if I were to go to the convent +to consult her? It is not late." + +"If the Dumonts were but here still!" said Pierre--"only next door but +one! It was a comfort to have them at hand on any difficulty." + +"If they were here, I should not consult them. They were so prejudiced +against all the mulattoes, and put so little trust in L'Ouverture +himself--as indeed their going off in such a hurry with Hedouville +proves--that I should not have cared for their opinion to-night. +Suppose you step to the convent, Pierre, and ask whether the lady abbess +could see me for half-an-hour on business. If I am to leave grandpapa, +I should like to tell him in the morning that it is all settled." + +Pierre went with alacrity, and was back in three minutes, when he found +Euphrosyne shawled and veiled for the visit. The lady awaited her. + +"What can I do for you, my child?" said the abbess, kindly seating +Euphrosyne beside her, in her parlour. + +"You will tell me what you think it is my duty to do, when I have told +you my story. I know I have laughed and joked too much about this very +matter; and that partly because I had a will of my own about it. But it +is all serious enough now; and I really do wish to find out my duty upon +it." + +"In order to do your duty, whatever it may cost you?" + +"Certainly." + +She then told her story. The lady at length smiled, and observed-- + +"You have no very strong inclination to join us, I perceive." + +"Not any," frankly replied Euphrosyne. "I have no doubt the sisters are +very happy. They choose their way of life for themselves. I only feel +it is one that I should never choose. Nor would grandpapa for me, for +more than a short time. I hope, madam, you understand that we neither +of us think of my ever becoming a nun." + +"I see that there is no present sign of its being your vocation." + +"And there never will be," cried Euphrosyne, very earnestly. "I assure +you, I cannot bear the idea of it." + +"So I perceive, my dear. I am quite convinced, I assure you. Have you +as great a dislike to being educated?" + +"Almost, I am afraid. But I could get over that. I like reading very +well, and learning things at my own time, and in my own way; but I feel +rather old to begin to be under orders as to what I shall learn, and +when and how; and yet rather young to be so grave and regular as the +sisters are. I am fifteen, you know." + +"You are not aware, I see, how much we laugh when we are by ourselves, +nor how we like to see girls of fifteen happy and gay. I think, too, +that I may answer for the sisters not quarrelling with you about what +you ought to learn. You will comply with the rules of the house as to +hours; and your preceptresses will allow you, as far as possible, to +follow your bent." + +"You are very kind, as you always are. But I think far less of all this +than of what grandpapa is to do without me. Consider what long, weary +days he will have! He has scarcely any acquaintance left in Cap; and he +has been accustomed to do nothing without me. He will sit and cry all +day--I know he will." + +And Euphrosyne's tears began to overflow at the thought. + +"It is a great honour, my child, to have been made such a blessing to an +old man." + +"It was almost the only one he had left. Up to that terrible +ninety-one--" + +The abbess shuddered. + +"You knew my mother and sisters?" + +"Very little. I was then a humble sister, and had little, intercourse +with any ladies who might occasionally visit us. But I remember her +coming, one day, with her children--three! girls--one who ran about the +garden, and two modest, blushing girls, who accepted some of our +flowers." + +"I must have been the little one who ran about, and the others were my +poor sisters. Well, all these, besides my papa, were always about +grandpapa; and he never wanted amusement or waiting on. Since that +dreadful time, he has had only me; and now, in his old age, when he has +no strength, and nothing to do, he is going to be all alone! Oh, madam, +I think it is wicked to leave him! Had anybody ever a clearer duty than +I have--to stay with him?" + +"You would be quite right if it was anybody but himself that desired you +to leave him. Your first duty, my dear, is to obey his wishes." + +"I shall never be able to learn my lessons, for thinking of him, sitting +alone there--or perhaps lying in bed, because there is nothing to get up +for." + +"Now you are presumptuous. You are counting upon what may never happen, +and fearing to leave your parent in the hand of Him who gave you to him. +Suppose you were to die to-night, I fear you could not trust him in the +hands of Him who wraps us round with old age, before taking us home to +Himself." + +"Oh, yes, I could so trust him to-night, if I myself had watched him to +sleep. But a month hence, if I were to die, I should dread to meet my +parents. They would ask me, `How is our father?' and I should have to +answer, `I do not know--I have left him--I have done nothing for him of +late.' The whole time that I am here, madam, I shall be afraid to die +and meet my mother." + +"We must lead you to doubt your own notions, and to trust more in God," +said the lady, gently. "We know not what a day may bring forth; and as +you grow older, you will find how, in cases of hard and doubtful duty, +our way becomes suddenly clear, so as to make us ashamed of our late +anguish. Father Gabriel will tell you that one night he lost his way +among the marshes in the plain. The clouds hung thick and low overhead, +and there was not a ray of light. He plunged on the one hand into the +marsh; and on the other, the reeds grew higher than his head. Behind +him was a wood that he had hardly managed to struggle through; and he +knew not what might be before him. He groped about for a firm place to +stand on, and had no idea which way to move. At last, without his +having felt a breath of wind, he found that the clouds had parted to the +right, making a chink through which he saw the Cibao peaks standing up +against a starlight sky; and, to the left, there was, on the horizon, a +dim white line which he could not understand, till the crescent moon +dropped down from behind the cloudy canopy, across a bar of clear sky, +and into the sea. This made him look whether the church of Saint +Hilaire was not close by. He made out its dim mass through the +darkness, and in a few minutes stood in the porch. So, my child, is our +way (even yours, young as you are) sometimes made too dark for our +feeble eyes; and thus, from one quarter or another, is a ray permitted +to fall that we may not be lost." + +"Thank you," said Euphrosyne, softly. "May I come to-morrow?" + +"At any hour you shall be welcome, my dear." + +"If you will appoint me something to do every morning in the garden, +madam, grandpapa might sit in the balcony, to see me, and talk to me. +That will be a reason for his getting up. That, will prevent his lying +too long, for want of something to do." + +"A very good plan. If you love your grandfather so, Euphrosyne, how +would you have loved your mother, if she had lived?" + +"Had you a mother, when you were my age?" + +"Yes, my dear. But do not let us speak of that. Do you remember your +mamma, my dear?" + +"Yes--a little. I remember her sitting in a wood--on the ground--with +her head bent down upon her knees, and a great many black people about." + +"Well--tell me no more. I ought not to have asked you. I was not +thinking of that horrid time." + +"But I do not mind telling you. I like to speak of it; and I never can +to grandpapa--it makes him so ill. Mamma shook so, that I remember +putting my arms about her to keep her warm, till I found how burning hot +her hands were. My sisters were crying; and they told me not to ask any +more why papa did not come to us; for he was dead. I remember being +wakened by a noise when I was very sleepy, and seeing some soldiers. +One of them lifted me up, and I was frightened, till I saw that, they +were carrying mamma too. They put us both into a cart. I did not see +my sisters; and I believe they were both dead then, of grief and +hardship. And mamma never spoke again. She looked as pale as her gown, +as she lay in the cart, with her eyes shut. She was breathing, however, +and I thought she was asleep. I felt very sleepy and odd. The soldiers +said I was half-starved, and they gave me a plantain that they pulled by +the road-side. I wanted them to give some to mamma too; but they made +me no answer. I put mine into her hand, but she let it fall; and I +cried because she would not take any notice. Then one of the soldiers +bade me eat my plantain; and I thought I must do as I was bid. I forget +where we went next." + +"You remember more than I had supposed. Your mother was brought on +board the ship where we were; and there she presently died." + +"You were on board ship, madam?" + +"Yes--all the sisters--for the town was not considered safe, even for +us." + +"And where was--" Euphrosyne stopped abruptly. + +"You were going to ask where my mother was," said the lady. "I feel +that I was wrong in stopping you as I did just, now--for you might fancy +that my mother was in some way to blame. She was a good mother to me-- +full of kindness; but I did not make her happy." + +"You did not?" + +"Indeed I did not. I crossed her in the thing she desired most of all-- +that we should live together. I believed it my duty to become a nun, +and I left her. She returned to France, being a widow, and having no +other child; and there she died, among distant relations." + +"Was she angry with you?" + +"She never said or showed that she was. But I know that she was grieved +to the very soul, and for life. This, my dear, has been the greatest +affliction I have ever known. I did not feel it so at the time, having +no doubt of my vocation; but what I have suffered since from the thought +that an only child and only parent, who ought to have made each other +happy, were both miserable, God only knows." + +"Yet you did what you thought was your duty to God. I wonder whether +you were right?" + +"If you knew how many times--but," said the lady, interrupting herself, +"we shall know all when our hearts are laid open; and may minister to my +mother yet. If I erred, and there be further punishment yet for my +error, I am ready to bear it. You see, my child, how much you have to +be thankful for, that your difficulty is not from having failed in duty +to your parent. For the future, fear not but that your duty will be +made clear to you. I am sure this is all you desire." + +"Shall we have any more such conversations as this when I come to live +here? If we can--" + +"We shall see," replied the lady, smiling. "Father Gabriel says there +may easily be too much talk, even about our duties; but occasions may +arise." + +"I hope so," said Euphrosyne, rising, as she perceived that the lady +thought it was time for her to go. "I dare say Pierre is here." + +Pierre had been waiting some time. + +The abbess sat alone after Euphrosyne was gone, contemplating, not the +lamp, though her eyes were fixed upon it, but the force of the filial +principle in this lonely girl--a force which had constrained her to open +the aching wound in her own heart to a mere child. She sat, till called +by the hour to prayer, pondering the question how it is that relations +designed for duty and peace become the occasions of the bitterest sin +and suffering. The mystery was in no degree cleared up when she was +called to prayer--which, however, has the blessed power of solving all +painful mysteries for the hour. + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. + +PERPLEXITY SOLVED. + +"What is the matter, child? What makes you look so merry?" asked +Monsieur Revel, when his eyes opened upon Euphrosyne the next morning. + +"Nothing has happened, grandpapa. The only thing is, that I like to do +what you wish; and I always will, as long as you live. I will go to the +convent to-day. You can send for me at any time when you want me, you +know. I am sure the abbess will let me come whenever you send Pierre +for me." + +"Well, well--do not be in such a hurry. I do not want you to go to-day. +Why should you be in such a hurry?" + +When the breeze had come to refresh him, and he had had his coffee, +Monsieur Revel felt more complaisant, and explained what he meant by +there being no hurry. Euphrosyne should not leave him till to-morrow; +and this day should be spent as she pleased. Whatever she liked to ask +to-day should be granted. This indulgence was promised under a +tolerable certainty that she would ask nothing unreasonable: that she +would not propose a dinner-party of dark-complexioned guests, for +instance. There might also be an expectation of what it would be that +she would choose. M. Revel was conscious that he did not visit his +estate of Le Bosquet, in the plain of Limbe, so often as Euphrosyne +would have liked, or as he himself knew to be good for his agent, the +cultivators, and his heiress. He was aware that if he could have shown +any satisfaction in the present order of affairs, any good-will towards +the working of the new system, there might have been a chance of old +stories dying away--of old grievances being forgotten by the +cultivators, in his present acquiescence in their freedom. He could not +order the carriage, and say he was going to Le Bosquet; but he had just +courage enough to set Euphrosyne free to ask to go. It turned out +exactly as he expected. + +"We will do what you will, my child, to-day. I feel strong enough to be +your humble servant." + +"It is a splendid day, grandpapa. It must be charming at Le Bosquet. +If I order the carriage now, we can get there before the heat; and we +need not come home till the cool of the evening. We will fill the +carriage with fruit and flowers for the abbess. May I order the +carriage?" + +Le Bosquet was only twelve miles off. They arrived when the cultivators +were settling to their work after breakfast. It was now, as on every +former occasion, a perplexity, an embarrassment to Euphrosyne, that the +negroes lost all their gaiety, and most of their civility, in the +presence of her grandfather. She could hardly wonder, when she +witnessed this, at his intolerance of the very mention of the blacks, at +his ridicule of all that she ever told him about them, from her own +observation. When she was in any other company, she saw them merry, +active, and lavish of their kindness and politeness; and whenever this +occurred, she persuaded herself that she must have been mistaken the +last time she and Monsieur Revel were at Le Bosquet, and that they ought +to go again soon. The next time they went, there was the same gloom, +listlessness, and avoidance on the part of the negroes; the same care on +her grandfather's that she should not stir a step without the escort of +Pierre or the agent. He would not even let her go with Portia, the +dairy-woman, to gather eggs; nor with little Sully, to see his +baby-brother. She made up her mind that this was all wrong--that all +parties would have been more amiable and happy, if there had been the +same freedom and confidence that she saw on other estates. Poor girl! +she little knew what was in all minds but her own--what recollections of +the lash and the stocks, and hunger and imprisonment on the one hand, +and of the horrors of that August night on the other. She little knew +how generally it was supposed that she owed it to the grandfather whom +she loved so much that she was the solitary orphan whom every one +pitied. + +It was, as Euphrosyne had said, a splendid day; and all went well. +Monsieur Revel would not go out much; but as he sat in the shaded room, +looking forth upon the lawn, the agent satisfied him with accounts of +the prosperity of the estate, the fine promise of the cacao walks, and +the health and regular conduct of the negroes. Euphrosyne showed +herself from time to time, now in the midst of a crowd of children, now +with a lapful of eggs, and then with a basket of fruit. In honour of +the master and young mistress, the dinner was very superb, and far too +long; so that the day had slipped away before Euphrosyne felt at all +disposed to return. She was glad that the agent was engaged in a deep +discussion with his employer when the carriage came round; so that she +was able to make one more short circuit in the twilight while they were +settling their point. + +The gentlemen were talking over the two late proclamations-- +L'Ouverture's and Hedouville's. The agent wished that Hedouville had +never come, rather than that he should have set afloat the elements of +mischief contained in his proclamation. Monsieur Revel could not +believe that a Commissary, sent out for the very purpose of regulating +such matters, could have got very far wrong upon them; and besides, the +proclamation had never been issued. Never formally issued, the agent +said; but it had been circulated from hand to hand of those who were +interested in its provisions. Some were, at that moment, preparing to +act upon it; and he feared that mischief might come of it yet. It was +certain that L'Ouverture knew more about claims to deserted estates, and +about the proper regulations as to tillage, than any novice from France +could know; and it was no less certain that he was ever more eager to +gratify the whites than the blacks. It would have been by far the +wisest plan to leave that class of affairs in the hands of the person +who understood them best; and, if he was not much mistaken, the +Government at home would yet rue Hedouville's rashness in acting without +so much as consulting L'Ouverture. Monsieur Revel was so amazed at +finding that L'Ouverture was not only worshipped by romantic young +ladies and freed negroes, but approved and confided in by such practical +and interested whites as his own agent, that he could only say again +what he said every day--that the world was turned upside down, and that +he expected to be stripped, before he died, of Le Bosquet, and of +everything else that he had; so that his poor child would be left +dependent on the charity of France. To this the agent replied, as +usual, that the property had never before been so secure, nor the estate +so prosperous; and that all would go well, if only the Government at +home would employ competent people to write its proclamations. + +"Where is this child?" cried Monsieur Revel at last. "I am always kept +waiting by everybody. It is dark already, and the carriage has been +standing this hour. Where is she?" + +"Mademoiselle is in the carriage," said Pierre, from the hall. "I made +Prince light the lamps, though he thinks we shall not want them." + +"Come, come! let us lose no more time," said Monsieur Revel, as if every +one had not been waiting for him. + +Euphrosyne jumped from the carriage, where she had been packing her +basket of eggs, her fruit, and her flowers, so that they might be out of +her grandfather's way. He could not admire any of them, and found them +all in his way. While the road lay under the dark shadow of the groves +on the estate, he cast anxious glances among the tall stems on which the +carriage lamps cast a passing gleam. He muttered a surly good-night to +the negroes who held open the gates; but, when the last of these +swung-to, when the carriage issued upon the high road, and the plain +lay, though dim in the starlight, yet free and lovely to the eye, while +the line of grey sea was visible to the left, the old man's spirits +seemed to rise. It was seldom that he quitted the town; and when he +did, and could throw off his cares, he was surprised to find how +reviving were the influences of the country. + +"It is a lovely night, really," said he. "If you ever go to Paris, my +dear, you will miss this starlight. There the stars seem to have shrunk +away from you, a myriad of miles. Let those flowers be, child. Why may +not I have the pleasure of smelling them? There! Let them lie. Who +would believe that that sea, which looks so quiet now, will be rolling +and dashing upon the beach in November, as if it meant to swallow up the +plain? How it seems to sleep in the starlight! You found little Sully +grown, my dear, I dare say." + +"Oh, yes! but more glad to see us than ever. He had to show me how he +could read, and how he had been allowed to put a new leg to the master's +desk at the school. Sully will make a good carpenter, I think. He is +going to make a box for me; and he declares the ants shall never get +through it, at the hinge, or lid, or anywhere. How the people are +singing all about! I love to hear them. Prince drives so fast, that we +shall be home too soon. I shall be quite sorry to be in the streets +again." + +It seemed as if Prince had heard her, for, in another moment, he was +certainly checking his horses, and their speed gradually relaxed. + +"He must have driven us fast, indeed," said Monsieur Revel. "Look at +the lights of the town--how near they are! Are those the lights of the +town?" + +"I should have looked for them more to the left." Euphrosyne replied. +"Let us ask Pierre. We cannot possibly have lost our way." + +Pierre rode up to the carriage window, at the moment that Prince came to +a full stop. + +"We do not know," said Louis, the black footman, who was beside +Prince--"We do not know what those lights can mean. They seem to be +moving, and towards this way." + +"I think it is a body of people," said Pierre. "I fear so, sir." + +"We had better go back," said Euphrosyne. "Let us go back to Le +Bosquet." + +"Forward! Forward!" cried Monsieur Revel, like one frantic. "Why do +you stand still, you rascal? I will drive myself if you do not push on. +Drive on--drive like the devil--like what you all are," he added, in a +lower tone. + +"Surely we had better go back to Le Bosquet." + +"No, no, you little fool," cried the agonised old man, grasping hold of +her, and dragging her towards himself. + +Louis shouted from the box, as Prince lashed his horses onwards, "We +shall be in the midst of them, sir, this way." + +"Drive on," was still the command. "Drive through everything to get +home!" As he clasped his arms round Euphrosyne, and pressed her so +closely that she could scarcely breathe, heaping his cloak upon her +head, she heard and felt him murmuring to himself-- + +"To Le Bosquet! No, indeed! anywhere but there! Once at home--she once +safe--and then--" + +Euphrosyne would have been glad to see a little of what appeared--to +know something of what to expect. Once or twice she struggled to raise +her head; but this only made the convulsive clasp closer than before. +All she knew was, that Pierre or the men on the box seemed to speak, +from time to time; for the passionate "Drive on!" + +"Forward!" was repeated. She also fancied that they must at last be in +the midst of a crowd; for the motion of the carriage seemed to be +interrupted by a sort of hustling on either side. Her heart beat so +tumultuously, however, and the sense of suffocation was so strong, that +she was sure of nothing but that she felt as if dying. Once more she +struggled for air. At the same moment, her grandfather started--almost +bounded from his seat, and relaxed his hold of her. She thought she had +heard firearms. She raised her head; but all was confusion. There was +smoke--there was the glare of torches--there was a multitude of shining +black faces, and her grandfather lying back, as if asleep, in the corner +of the carriage. + +"Drive on!" she heard Pierre cry. The whip cracked, the horses plunged +and scrambled, and in another moment broke through the crowd. The +yelling, the lights, the smoke, were left behind; the air blew fresh; +and there was only calm starlight without, as before. + +The old man's hand fell when lifted. He did not move when she stroked +his cheek. He did not answer when she spoke. She put her hand to his +forehead, and it was wet. + +"Pierre! Pierre!" she cried, "he is shot! he is dead!" + +"I feared so, Mademoiselle. Drive on, Prince!" + +In an inconceivably short time, they were at their own door. Pierre +looked into the carriage, felt his master's wrist and heart, spoke +softly to Prince, and they drove on again--only past the corner--only to +the gate of the convent. + +When it was opened, Pierre appeared at the carriage door. "Now, +Mademoiselle," he said. He half pulled, half lifted her over the +crushed fruit and flowers that were in her way--glanced in her face, to +see whether she had observed that the body fell behind her--carried her +in, and gave her, passive and stupified, into the arms of two nuns. +Seeing the abbess standing behind, he took off his hat, and would have +said something; but his lips quivered, and he could not. + +"I will," said the lady's gentle voice, answering to his thought. "My +young daughter shall be cherished here." + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. + +A LOVER'S LOVE. + +This new violence had for its object the few whites who were rash and +weak enough to insist on the terms of Hedouville's intended +proclamation, instead of abiding by that of L'Ouverture. The +cultivators on the estates of these whites left work, rather than be +reduced to a condition of virtual slavery. Wandering from plantation to +plantation, idle and discontented, they drew to themselves others who, +from any cause, were also idle and discontented. They exasperated each +other with tales, old and new, of the tyranny of the whites. Still, +further mischief might have been prevented by due vigilance and firmness +on the part of him in whose charge the town and district of Cap Francais +now lay. Stories, however, passed from mouth to mouth respecting +General Moyse--anecdotes of the words he had dropped in dislike of the +whites--of the prophecies he had uttered of more violence before the old +masters would be taught their new place--rumours like these spread, till +the gathering mob at length turned their faces towards the town, as if +to try how far they might go. They went as far as the gates, having +murdered some few of the obnoxious masters, either in their own houses, +or, as in the case of Monsieur Revel, where they happened to meet them. + +On the Haut-du-Cap they encountered General Moyse coming out against +them with soldiery. At first he looked fierce; and the insurgents began +to think each of getting away as he best might. But in a few moments, +no one seemed to know how or why, the aspect of affairs changed. There +was an air of irresolution about the Commander. It was plain that he +was not really disposed to be severe--that he had no deadly intentions +towards those he came to meet. His black troops caught his mood. Some +of the inhabitants of the town, who wore on the watch with glasses from +the gates, from the churches, and from the roofs of houses, afterwards +testified to there having been a shaking of hands, and other amicable +gestures. They testified that the insurgents crowded round General +Moyse, and gave, at one time cheers, at another time groans, evidently +on a signal from him. No prisoners were made--there was not a shot +fired. The General and his soldiers returned into the town, and even +into their quarters, protesting that no further mischief would happen, +but the insurgents remained on the heights till daylight; and the +inhabitants, feeling themselves wholly unprotected, sent off expresses +to the Commander-in-Chief, and watched, with arms loaded, till he, or +one of his more trustworthy Generals, should arrive. These expresses +were stopped and turned back, by order of General Moyse, who ridiculed +the idea of further danger, and required the inhabitants to be satisfied +with his assurances of protection. Fortunately, however, one or two +messengers who had been sent off a few hours before, on the first alarm, +had reached their destination, while General Moyse was yet on the +Haut-du-Cap. + +The first relief to the anxious watchers was on seeing the heights +gradually cleared at sunrise. The next was the news that L'Ouverture +was entering the town, followed by the ringleaders from Limbe, whom he +was bringing in as prisoners. He had proceeded directly to the scene of +insurrection, where the leaders of the mob were delivered up to him at +his first bidding. It now remained to be seen what he would do with +those, within the town, high or low in office, who were regarded by the +inhabitants as accessories. + +This kind of speculation was not abated by the sight of L'Ouverture, as +he passed through the streets. Grave as his countenance usually was, +and at times melancholy, never had it been seen so mournful as to-day. +Years seemed to have sunk down upon him since he was last seen--so +lately that the youngest prattler in the Cap had not ceased to talk of +the day. As he walked his horse through the streets, many citizens +approached, some humbly to ask, others eagerly to offer information. +With all these last he made appointments, and rode on. His way lay past +Monsieur Revel's door; and it happened to be at the very time that the +funeral (an affair of hurry in that climate) was about to take place. +At the sight, L'Ouverture stopped, opposite the door. When the coffin +was brought out, he took off his hat, and remained uncovered till it +moved on, when he turned his horse, and followed the train to the corner +of the street. There were many present who saw his face, and by whom +its expression of deep sorrow was never afterwards forgotten. When he +again turned in the direction of Government-house, he proceeded at a +rapid pace, as if his purposes had been quickened by the sight. + +His aides, who had been dispersed on different errands, entered the town +by its various avenues; and some of them joined him in the Jesuits' +Walk. At the gate of Government-house he was received by General Moyse, +who had been almost the last person in Cap to hear of his arrival. +L'Ouverture acknowledged his military greeting; and then, turning to his +aides, said in a calm tone, which yet was heard half-way down the Walk, +and thence propagated through the town, as if by echoes-- + +"General Moyse is under arrest." + +As Moyse was moving off towards the apartment in which he was to be +guarded, he requested an interview with the Commander-in-Chief. + +"After your business with the court-martial is concluded," was the +reply. "On no account before." + +General Moyse bowed, and proceeded to his apartment. + +For some hours after, there was every indication of the rapid +transaction of business in Government-house. Messengers were sent to +Fort Dauphin, to the commanding officer at Limbe, and to every military +station within thirty miles. Orders were issued for the garrison of Cap +to be kept close within their quarters. Not a man was to be allowed, on +any pretence whatever, to pass the barrack-gates, which were +well-guarded by the Commander-in-Chief's own guards, till troops for the +service of the town could arrive from Fort Dauphin. As L'Ouverture was +closeted with his secretary, message after message was reported; letter +upon letter was delivered by his usher. Among these messages came, at +length, one which made him start. + +"Mademoiselle L'Ouverture begs to be permitted to see General Moyse." + +Before he could reply, a note by another messenger was put into his +hands. + + "I implore you to let me see Moyse. I do not ask to see you. I do + not wish it. I will disturb no one. Only give me an order to see + Moyse--for his sake, and that of your unhappy + + "Genifrede." + +Toussaint left the room, and was but too well directed by the +countenances of his servants to the room where Genifrede was lying, with +her face hidden, upon a sofa. Denis was standing silent at a window +which overlooked the Walk. Both were covered with dust from their +journey. + +Genifrede looked up, on hearing some one enter. When she saw that it +was her father, she again buried her face in the cushions, saving only-- + +"Oh, why did you come?" + +"Stay, my child, why did you come? How--why--" + +"I always know," said she, "when misery is near; and where misery is, +there am I. Do not be angry with Denis, father. I made him come." + +"I am angry with no one, Genifrede. I am too much grieved to be angry. +I am come to take you to Moyse. I cannot see him myself, at present; +but I will take you to the door of the salon where he is." + +"The salon!" said Genifrede, as if relieved. She had probably imagined +him chained in a cell. This one word appeared to alter the course of +her ideas. She glanced at her travel-soiled dress, and hesitated. Her +father said-- + +"I will send a servant to you. Refresh yourself; and in half-an-hour I +will come again." + +When he rejoined her, she was still haggard and agitated, but appeared +far less wretched than before. + +"Genifrede!" cried Moyse, as she entered and leaned against the wall, +unable to go farther. "Genifrede! And was not that your father who +admitted you? Oh, call him, Genifrede! Call him back! I must see him. +If you ask him, he will come. Call him back, Genifrede!" + +"If you are engaged, Moyse," said she in a sickening voice, "if I am in +your way, I will go." + +"No, no, my love. But I must see your father. Everything may depend +upon it." + +"I will go--as soon as I can," said the poor girl, beginning to sink to +the floor. + +"You shall not go, my love--my Genifrede," cried Moyse, supporting her +to a sofa. "I did not know--I little thought--Are you all here?" + +"No; I came to see you, Moyse. I told you how it would be if we +parted." + +"And how will it be, love?" + +"Oh, how can you make me say it? How can you make me think it?" + +"Why, Genifrede, you cannot suppose anything _very_ serious will happen. +What frightens you so? Once more I ask you the old question that we +must both be weary of--what frightens you so?" + +"What frightens me!" she repeated, with a bewildered look in her face. +"Were we not to have been married as soon as you were relieved from your +command here? And are you not a prisoner, waiting for trial--and that +trial for--for--for your life?" + +"Never believe so, Genifrede! Have they not told you that the poor +blacks behaved perfectly well from the moment they met me? They did not +do a single act of violence after I went to them. Not a hand was raised +when they had once seen me; and after I had put them into good-humour, +they all went to their homes." + +"Oh, is it so? Is it really so? But you said just now that everything +depended on your seeing my father." + +"To a soldier, his honour, his professional standing, are everything--" + +Seeing a painful expression in Genifrede's face, he explained that even +his private happiness--the prosperity of his love, depended on his +professional honour and standing. She must be as well aware as himself +that he was now wholly at her father's mercy, as regarded all his +prospects in life; and that this would justify any eagerness to see him. + +"At his mercy," repeated Genifrede; "and he is merciful. He does acts +of mercy every day." + +"True--true. You see now you were too much alarmed." + +"But, Moyse, how came you to need his mercy? But two days ago how proud +he was of you! and now--Oh! Moyse, when you knew what depended on these +few days, how could you fail?" + +"How was it that, he put me into an office that I was not fit for? He +should have seen--" + +"Then let us leave him, and all these affairs which make us so +miserable. Let us go to your father. He will let us live at Saint +Domingo in peace." + +Moyse shook his head, saying that there were more whites at Saint +Domingo than in any other part of the island; and the plain truth was, +he could not live where there were whites. + +"How was it then that you pleased my father so much when Hedouville went +away? He whispered to me, in the piazza at Pongaudin, that, next to +himself, you saved the town--that many whites owed their lives and their +fortunes to you." + +"I repent," cried Moyse, bitterly, "I repent of my deeds of that day. I +repent that any white ever owed me gratitude. I thank God, I have +shaken them off, like the dust from my feet! Thank God, the whites are +all cursing me now!" + +"What do you mean? How was it all?" cried Genifrede, fearfully. + +"When Hedouville went away, my first desire was to distinguish myself, +that I might gain you, as your father promised. This prospect, so near +and so bright, dazzled me so that I could not see black faces from +white. For the hour, one passion put the other out." + +"And when--how soon did you begin to forget me?" asked Genifrede, +sorrowfully. + +"I have never forgotten you, love--not for an hour, in the church among +the priests--in the square among the soldiers, any more than here as a +prisoner. But I thought my point was gained when your father stooped +from his horse, as he rode away, and told me there would be joy at home +on hearing of my charge. I doubted no more that all was safe. Then I +heard of the insufferable insolence of some of the whites out at Limbe-- +acting as if Hedouville was still here to countenance them. I saw +exultation on account of this in all the white faces I met in Cap. The +poor old wretch Revel, when my officers and I met his carriage, stared +at me through his spectacles, and laughed in my face as if--" + +"Was his grandchild with him? She was? Then he was laughing at some of +her prattle. Nothing else made him even smile." + +"It looked as if he was ridiculing me and my function. I was growing +more angry every hour, when tidings came of the rising out at Limbe. I +knew it was forced on by the whites. I knew the mischief was begun by +Hedouville, and kept up by his countrymen; and was it to be expected +that I should draw the sword for them against our own people? Could I +have done so, Genifrede?" + +"Would not my father have restored peace without drawing the sword at +all?" + +"That was what I did. I went out to meet the insurgents; and the moment +they saw that the whites were not to have their own way, they returned +to quietness, and to their homes. Not another blow was struck." + +"And the murderers--what did you do with them?" + +Moyse was silent for a moment, and then replied-- + +"Those may deal with them who desire to live side-by-side with whites. +As for me, I quarrel with none who avenge our centuries of wrong." + +"Would to God my father had known that this was in your heart! You +would not then have been a wretched prisoner here. Moyse, the moment +you are free, let us fly to the mornes. I told you how it would be, if +we parted. You will do as I wish henceforward; you will take me to the +Mornes?" + +"My love, where and how should we live there? In a cave of the rocks, +or roosting in trees?" + +"People do live there--not now, perhaps, under my father's government: +but in the old days, runaways did live there." + +"So you would institute a new race of banditti, under your father's +reign. How well it will sound in the First Consul's council-chamber, +that the eldest daughter of the ambitious Commander-in-Chief is the +first bandit's wife in the mornes!" + +"Let them say what they will: we must have peace, Moyse. We have been +wretched too long. Oh, if we could once be up there, hidden among the +rocks, or sitting among the ferns in the highest of those valleys, with +the very clouds between us and this weary world below--never to see a +white face more! Then, at last, we could be at peace. Everywhere else +we are beset with this enemy. They are in the streets, in the churches, +on the plain. We meet them in the shade of the woods, and have to pass +them basking on the sea-shore. There is no peace but high up in the +mornes--too high for the wild beast, and the reptile, and the white +man." + +"The white man mounts as high as the eagle's nest, Genifrede. You will +not be safe, even there, from the traveller or the philosopher, climbing +to measure the mountain or observe the stars.--But while we are talking +of the free and breezy heights--" + +"You are a prisoner," said Genifrede, mournfully. "But soon, very soon, +we can go. Why do you look so? You said there was no fear--that +nothing serious could happen--nothing more than disgrace; and, for each +other's sake, we can defy disgrace. Can we not, Moyse? Why do not you +speak?" + +"Disgrace, or death, or anything. Even death, Genifrede. Yes--I said +what was not true. They will not let me out but to my death. Do not +shudder so, my love: they shall not part us. They shall not rob me of +everything. You did well to come, love. If they had detained you, and +I had had to die with such a last thought as that you remained to be +comforted, sooner or later, by another--to be made to forget me by a +more prosperous lover--O God! I should have been mad!" + +"You are mad, Moyse," cried Genifrede, shrinking from him in terror. "I +do not believe a word you say. I love another!--they kill you! It is +all false! I will not hear another word--I will go." + +To go was, however, beyond her power. As she sank down again, +trembling, Moyse said in the imperious tone which she both loved and +feared-- + +"I am speaking the truth now. I shall be tried to-night before a +court-martial, which will embody your father's opinion and will. They +will find me a traitor, and doom me to death upon the Place. I must +die--but not on the Place--and you shall die with me. In one moment, we +shall be beyond their power. You hear me, Genifrede? I know you hear +me, though you do not speak. I can direct you to one, near at hand, who +prepares the red water, and knows me well. I will give you an order for +red water enough for us both. You will come--your father will not +refuse our joint request--you will come to me as soon as the trial is +over; and then, love, we will never be parted more." + +Genifrede sat long with her face hidden on her lover's shoulder, +speechless. After repeated entreaties that she would say one word, +Moyse raised her up, and, looking in her face, said authoritatively-- + +"You will do as I say, Genifrede?" + +"Moyse, I dare not. No, no, I dare not! If, when we are dead, you +should be dead to me too! And how do we know? If, the very next +moment, I should see only your dead body with my own--if you should be +snatched away somewhere, and I should be alone in some wide place--if I +should be doomed to wander in some dreadful region, calling upon you for +ever, and no answer! Oh, Moyse! we do not know what fearful things are +beyond. I dare not; no, no, I dare not! Do not be angry with me, +Moyse!" + +"I thought you had been ready to live and die with me." + +"And so I am--ready to live anywhere, anyhow--ready to die, if only we +could be sure--Oh! if you could only tell me there is nothing beyond--" + +"I have little doubt," said Moyse, "that death is really what it is to +our eyes--an end of everything." + +"Do you think so? If you could only assure me of that--But, if you were +really quite certain of that, would you wish me to die too?" + +"Wish it! You must--you shall," cried he, passionately. "You are +mine--mine for ever; and I will not let you go. Do not you see--do not +you feel," he said, moderating his tone, "that you will die a slow death +of anguish, pining away, from the moment that cursed firing in the Place +strikes upon your ear? You cannot live without love--you know you +cannot--and you shall not live by any other love than mine. This little +sign," said he, producing a small carved ivory ring from his +pocket-book, "This little sign will save you from the anguish of a +thousand sleepless nights, from the wretchedness of a thousand days of +despair. Take it. If shown at Number 9, in the Rue Espagnole, in my +name, you will receive what will suffice for us both. Take it, +Genifrede." + +She took the ring, but it presently dropped from her powerless hands. + +"You do not care for me," said Moyse, bitterly. "You are like all +women. You love in fair weather, and would have us give up everything +for you; and when the hurricane comes, you will fly to shelter, and shut +out your lover into the storm." + +Genifrede was too wretched to remind her lover what was the character of +his love. It did not, indeed, occur to her. She spoke, however:-- + +"If you had remembered, Moyse, what a coward I am, you would have done +differently, and not have made me so wretched as I now am. Why did you +not bid me bring the red water, without saying what it was, and what +for? If you had put it to my lips--if you had not given me a moment to +fancy what is to come afterwards, I would have drunk it--oh, so +thankfully! But now--I dare not." + +"You are not afraid to live without me." + +"Yes, I am. I am afraid of living, of dying--of everything." + +"You once asked me about--" + +"I remember--about your spirit coming." + +"Suppose it should come, angry at your failing me in my last desire?" + +"Why did you not kill me? You know I should have been thankful. I wish +the roof would fall and bury us now." + +She started and shrieked when she heard some one at the door. It was +her father's servant, who told her that Madame Dessalines had arrived, +and that L'Ouverture wished her to come and receive her friend. The +servant held the door open, so that there was opportunity only for +another word. + +"Remember," said Moyse, "they are not to seduce or force you back to +Pongaudin to-day. Remember, you are not fit to travel. Remember," he +again said, holding up the ivory ring, and then thrusting it into her +bosom, "you come to me as soon as the trial is over. I depend upon +you." + +He led her, passive and silent, to the door, where he kissed her hand, +saying, for the ear of any one who might be without, "For once, I cannot +accompany you further. Tell Madame Dessalines that I hope to pay my +respects to her soon." He added, to the servant-- + +"See that Julien is at Mademoiselle L'Ouverture's orders, till I need +his services myself." + +The man bowed, pleased, as most persons are, to have a commission to +discharge for a prisoner. Before he had closed the door, Genifrede was +in the arms of Therese. + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. + +PANGS OF OFFICE. + +That night. Madame Dessalines was alone in a dimly-lighted apartment of +Government-house--dimly-lighted except by the moon, shining in full at +the range of windows which overlooked the gardens, so as to make the one +lamp upon the table appear like a yellow taper. For most of the long +hours that she had sat there, Therese had been alone. Denis had +entered, before his departure homewards, to ask what tidings he was to +carry to Pongaudin from her. Father Laxabon had twice appeared, to know +if he could not yet see Genifrede, to offer her consolation; and had +withdrawn, when he found that Genifrede was not yet awake. Madame +Dessalines' maid had put her head in so often as to give her mistress +the idea that she was afraid to remain anywhere else; though it did not +quite suit her to be where she must speak as little as possible, and +that little only in whispers. So Therese had been, for the most part, +alone since sunset. Her work was on the table, and she occasionally +took up her needle for a few minutes; but it was laid down at the +slightest noise without; and again and again she rose, either to listen +at the chamber-door which opened into the apartment, or softly to pace +the floor, or to step out upon the balcony, to refresh herself with +looking down upon the calm lights and still shadows of the gardens. + +In the centre of one division of these gardens was a fountain, whose +waters, after springing in the air, fell into a wide and deep reservoir, +from whence were supplied the trenches which kept the alleys green and +fresh in all but the very hottest weeks of the year. Pour straight +walks met at this fountain--walks hedged in with fences of citron, +geraniums, and lilac jessamine. These walks were now deserted. Every +one in the house and in the town was occupied with something far +different from moonlight strolls, for pleasure or for meditation. The +chequered lights and shadows lay undisturbed by the foot of any +intruder. The waters gleamed as they rose, and sparkled as they fell; +and no human voice, in discourse or in laughter, mingled with the murmur +and the splash. Here Therese permitted herself the indulgence of the +tears which she had made an effort to conceal within. + +"These young creatures!" thought she. "What a lot! They are to be +parted--wrenched asunder by death--by the same cause, for indulgence of +the same passion, which brought Jacques and me together. If the same +priest were to receive their confession and ours, how would he reconcile +the ways of God to them and to us? The thought of my child burns at my +heart, and its last struggle--my bosom is quivering with it still. For +this Jacques took me to his heart, and I have ever since had--alas! not +forgetfulness of my child--but a home, and the good fame that a woman +cannot live without, and the love of a brave and tender heart--tender to +me, however hard to those we hate. Jacques lives in honour, and in a +station of command, though he hates the whites with a passion which +would startle Moyse himself--hates them so that he does not even strive, +as I do, to remember that they are human--to be ready to give them the +cup of cold water when they thirst, and the word of sympathy when they +grieve. He would rather dash the cup from their parched lips, and laugh +at their woes. Yet Jacques lives in peace and honour at his palace at +Saint Marc, or is, in war, at the head of troops that would die for him: +while this poor young man, a mere novice in the passion, is too likely +to be cast out, as unworthy to live among us--among us who, God knows, +are in this regard more guilty than he! The time may come, when +Genifrede's first passion is over, when I may tell her this. Hark! that +trumpet! The court-martial has broken up. Oh, I wish I could silence +that trumpet! It will waken her. It is further off--and further. God +grant she may not have heard it!" + +She stepped in, and to the chamber-door, and listened. There was no +stir, and she said to herself that her medicine had wrought well. From +the window, which opened on one of the courtyards, she heard the +shuffling of feet, and the passing by of many persons. She dared not +look out; but she felt certain that the trial was over, that the +officers were proceeding to their quarters, and the prisoner to his +solitude. Her heart beat so that she was glad to return to her seat, +and cover her eyes from the light. She was startled by the opening of +the door from the corridor. It was L'Ouverture; and she rose, as every +one habitually did, at his approach. + +"Genifrede?" he said, anxiously, as he approached. + +Therese pointed to the chamber, saying softly-- + +"She is there. I do not know what you will think of the means I have +taken to procure her sleep. But she was so shaken--she so dreaded this +night!" + +"You have given her medicine. Is she asleep?" + +"I gave her henbane, and she is asleep." + +"Is there a chance of her sleeping till noon?" + +"If she be not disturbed. I have carefully darkened the room. What, +has been done?" she inquired, looking in his face. Struck with its +expression, she exclaimed, "How you have suffered!" + +"Yes. Life is bitter to those whom God has chosen. If Moyse did but +know it, I almost envy him his rest." + +"Is it over, then? is he dead?" + +"He dies at sunrise. You think Genifrede may sleep till noon?" + +Therese could not reply, and he proceeded-- + +"He is found guilty, and sentenced. There was no escape. His guilt is +clear as noonday." + +"No escape from the sentence," said Therese, eagerly. "But there is +room for mercy yet. You hold the power of life and death over all the +colony--a power like that of God, and put into your hand by Him." + +"A power put into my hand by Him, and therefore to be justly used. +Moyse's crime is great, and mercy to him would be a crime in me. I have +fault enough already to answer for in this business, and I dare not sin +yet further." + +"You yourself have sinned?" said Therese, with a gleam of hope in her +countenance and tone. + +"Yes. I ought to have discerned the weakness of this young man. I +ought to have detected the passions that were working in him. I was +misled by one great and prolonged effort of self-control in him. I +appointed an unworthy officer to the care of the lives and safety of the +whites. Many of them have gone to lay their deaths to my charge in +heaven. All I can now do is, by one more death (would to God it were my +own!) to save and to reassure those who are left. It is my retribution +that Moyse must die. As for Paul, as for Genifrede--the sin of the +brother is visited upon the brother--the sin of the father upon the +child." + +"But," said Therese, "you speak as if you had caused the innocent to be +destroyed. Some few harmless ones may have died; but the greater +number--those who were sought by the sword's point--were factious +tyrants--enemies of your Government, and of your race--men who rashly +brought their deaths upon themselves. They were passionate--they were +stubborn--they were cruel." + +"True--and therefore were they peculiarly under my charge. I have +guaranteed the safety of the whites; and none need my protection so much +as those who do not, by justice, obedience, and gentleness, by gaining +the good-will of their neighbours, protect themselves." + +"But Moyse did not murder any. He was not even present at any death." + +"It has just been proved that, while he knew that slaughter was going +on, he took no measures to stop it. The ground of his guilt is plain +and clear. The law of the revolution of Saint Domingo, as conducted by +me, is No retaliation. Every breach of this law by an officer of mine +is treason; and every traitor to the whites must die." + +"Alas! why so harsh now--only now? You have spared the guilty before, +by tons, by hundreds. Why, now, cause all this misery for this one +young life?" + +"Those whom I have spared were my personal foes; and I spared them not +so much for the sake of their separate lives, as for the sake of the +great principles for which I live and govern--reconciliation and peace. +For this end I pardoned them. For this end I condemn Moyse." + +"You make one tremble," said Therese, shuddering, "for one's very self. +What if I were to tell you that it is not Moyse and Genifrede alone +that--" She stopped. + +"That hate the whites? I know it," replied Toussaint. "I know that if +God were to smite all among us who hate His children of another race, +there would be mourning in some of the brightest dwellings of our land. +I thank God that no commission to smite such is given to me." + +Therese was silent. + +"My office is," said Toussaint, "to honour those (and they are to be +found in cottages all through the island) who forgive their former +oppressors, and forget their own wrongs. Here, as elsewhere, we may +take our highest lesson from the lowliest men. My office is to honour +such. As for the powerful, and those who think themselves wise--their +secret feelings towards all men are between themselves and God." + +"But if I could prove to you, at this moment, that Moyse's enmity +towards the whites is mild and harmless--his passions moderation, +compared with the tempest in the breasts of some whom you employ and +cherish--would not this soften you--would it not hold your hand from +inflicting that which no priest can deny is injustice in God?" + +"I leave it to no priest, Therese, but to God Himself, to vindicate His +own justice, by working as He will in the secret hearts, or before the +eyes of men. He may have, for those who hate their enemies, punishments +too great for me, or any ruler, to wield; punishments to which the +prison and the bullet are nothing. You speak of the tempest within the +breast: I know at this moment, if you do not, that years of +imprisonment, or a hundred death-strokes, are mercy compared to it. But +no more of this! I only say, Therese, that while Jacques--" + +"Say me too!" + +"While Jacques and you secretly hate, I have no concern with it, except +in my secret heart. But if that hatred, be it more or less than that of +this young man, should interfere with my duty to friend or foe, you see, +from his fate, that I have no mercy to grant. Jacques is my friend: +Moyse was to have been my son." + +Neither could immediately speak. At length, Toussaint signed once more +to the chamber-door, and once more said-- + +"Genifrede?" + +"I have something to tell you--something to show you," replied Therese. +"Her sleep or stupor came upon her suddenly: but she kept a strong grasp +upon the bosom of her dress. When I laid her on the bed, she kept her +hands clasped one upon the other there. As she slept more heavily, the +fingers relaxed; her hands fell, and I saw one end of this." + +She produced a phial. + +"Ha! the red water!" exclaimed Toussaint. + +"I thought it was," said Therese. + +"Who taught her this? Who has been tampering with her, and with her +life?" + +"Perhaps this may tell," said Therese, showing the ivory ring. + +Toussaint closely examined the ring, and then drew his hand across his +brows. + +"How strange," said he, "are old thoughts, long forgotten! This bit of +ivory makes me again a young man, and a slave. Do you remember that I +once had the care of the sick at Breda, and administered medicines?" + +Therese shuddered. She remembered that when her infant was taken ill, +Papalier had sent for Toussaint, because, though Toussaint was no longer +surgeon to the quarter at Breda, he was thought to have great knowledge +and skill. Toussaint remembered nothing of this particular incident, +and was not aware how he had touched her feelings. He went on: + +"I began that study as all of my race have begun it, till of late, in +superstition. With what awe did I handle charms like this! Can it be +possible that my poor child has been wrought upon by such jugglery? +What do you know about it?" + +"No more than that the charm and the poison were hidden in her bosom." + +"It is hard to trouble a dying man," said Toussaint, "but the survivor +must be cared for. If Moyse has poisoned her mind, as I much fear, he +would have poisoned her body--But no--it is an atrocious thought. If I +wrong him--if his love for her is faithful, he will be glad to tell me +what he knows, that her sick mind may be well tended. Father Laxabon is +coming presently, to go to Moyse, and leave him no more. I will go with +him." + +"How you suffer! How you must suffer!" said Therese, again speaking her +thoughts, as she looked in his face. + +"It is worse than going to my death," replied he; "but for my child's +sake--for my poor brother's sake, too--it must be done." + +He could say no more. Till Father Laxabon came, he paced the room--he +listened at the chamber-door--he went out upon the balcony, to hide, as +Therese well understood, his tears of agony. He again entered, listened +again at the chamber-door, and, hastily approaching the table, took up +the phial, saying-- + +"Are you certain that this is all? Are you certain that she only +sleeps, and is not dying--or dead?" + +"Indeed, I am not certain," exclaimed Therese, starting up, and softly +entering the chamber. Toussaint followed with the lamp, shading it +carefully with his hand. + +"Here is no pain," whispered Therese. "She breathes quietly. There is +no pain. Satisfy yourself." + +She took the light from his hand, and saw him stoop above his sleeping +child, extending his hands over her, as if in the act of prayer or +blessing. + +"No pain, thank God!" he repeated, as they returned to the salon, where +they found Father Laxabon. + +"Are you prepared, father, to deal with a spirit as perturbed as that of +the dead who cannot rest?" + +"Christ will strengthen me for my office, my son." + +"And the other sufferers?" + +"My brethren are engaged with them. Every man of the black troops will +be shriven this night." + +"Are there more doomed?" asked Therese, faintly. + +"There are. There are many guilty; and of some I must make an example. +They know that they are guilty; but they know not yet which and how many +are to be spared. The discipline of this night will, I trust, impress +upon them that principle of our revolution which they have hitherto +failed to learn, or have been tempted to forget. This night, father, +will establish your precept and mine, and that of our Master--no +retaliation. If not, may God direct us, by whatever suffering, to some +other method of teaching it; for, at whatever cost, it must be learned! +Let us begone." + +"One moment," exclaimed Therese, in agitation. "You have not told me +when--where--" + +"He dies on the Place, at sunrise--a military, not an ignominious death. +Father Laxabon and I shall both be near at hand when Genifrede wakes. +Your task shall be shared, though we must leave you now." + +Moyse had been permitted to remain in the same apartment which had been +assigned to him after his arrest. When he heard the key turn in the +lock, he sprang from his seat to the door, exclaiming-- + +"You have come at last! Oh, Genifrede! to have kept me waiting this +last night--" + +He turned, and walked back to his seat, when he saw his uncle and the +priest. + +"You expected Genifrede?" asked Toussaint. + +"I did--naturally." + +"She is asleep, and she must not be awakened. You would be the last to +wish it, Moyse." + +"Must not be awakened," repeated Moyse to himself, with something of +doubt in his tone--something of triumph in his countenance. + +"Perhaps you think," said Toussaint, fixing his eyes on the young man's +face, "that she cannot be awakened. Perhaps you think that she may have +drunk the red water?" + +"She has told, then. A curse upon woman's cowardice and woman's +treachery! Who would not have sworn that if ever a woman loved, +Genifrede loved me? And now, when put to the test--" + +"Now, when put to the test," interrupted Toussaint, "my poor child was +prepared to die with you, though you had perplexed her mind with +superstition--terrified her with spells and charms--" + +"You do not know her, uncle. She herself told me that she dared not die +with me, though it was the only--" + +"And you wished it--you required it! You have striven to destroy her, +body and soul, because you yourself were lost--and now you curse a +woman's cowardice and treachery! I leave you with Father Laxabon. +Hasten to confess and cleanse your soul, Moyse; for never soul needed it +more. I leave you my pity and my forgiveness, and I engage for +Genifrede's." + +"Stop!" cried Moyse, "I have something to ask. Who has dared to keep +Genifrede from me? She is mine." + +"Think of her no more, except to implore Heaven's pardon for your intent +towards her." And Toussaint produced the ivory ring and phial. + +"Yes," exclaimed Moyse, "with that ring we obtained that water, which we +were to have drunk together." + +"Here, then, I break the bond by which she was yours." And Toussaint +crushed the ring to dust with the heel of his boot, and dashed the phial +against the ceiling, from whence the poisonous water sprinkled the +floor. + +"You spoke of treachery just now," said Moyse. "How do you propose to +answer to my father for the charge he left you in me?" + +"Be silent, my poor son," said Father Laxabon. "Do not spend your +remaining moments in aggravating your crimes." + +"A few minutes' patience, father. I never before ventured to speak +freely to my uncle. Not on account of any severity of his--he never was +severe to me--but on account of a certain awe I felt of him--an awe +which the events of this day have had a wonderful power to dispel." + +"It is well," said Toussaint. "There should be no awe of the creature +when but a moment's darkness separates one from the Creator. Speak +freely and fearlessly, Moyse." + +"I ask," said Moyse, in a somewhat softened tone, "how you will answer +to my father for the charge he left you in me?" + +"Not by revealing to him the vices of the spirit he gave me to guide. +If your father's heart must be broken for you, it shall be for having +thus lost a noble and gallant son, and not for--But it is no time for +reproach from me. Let me go now, my poor boy." + +"Not yet, uncle. It is far from sunrise yet. How do you mean to report +of me to Genifrede? Will you make her detest me? Will you work upon +her fears--her fears of my ghost--to make her seek refuge with another? +Will you trample on the memory of the dead, to drive her into the arms +of some living lover, that you may no longer be reminded of the poor +wretch that you first fostered, and then murdered?" + +"Leave us!" said Laxabon to Toussaint. "He is desperate. Leave him to +me, that he may not plunge deeper into sin with every word he speaks." + +"Presently, father.--Moyse, what Genifrede hears of you will be +according to what Father Laxabon has to report of your last hours. Be +assured that I shall not interpose between you and her. It rests with +yourself to justify her love, and engage her affections to your memory. +She has been laid to sleep this night, not out of enmity to you, but to +save her brain. As Providence has decreed, it has also saved her life. +When she awakes, she will regard you as a martyr to a professional +necessity. A woman's love is sanctified and made immortal when baptised +in the blood of martyrdom. Hers may be so, if your last moments are +full of holy contrition, and purged from passion. Of Father Laxabon, +and not of me, will Genifrede inquire concerning you." + +"This is kind--this is generous," said Moyse, looking wistfully in his +uncle's face. + +"And now," said Toussaint, "I have to ask you to be generous to me. I +need and implore your pardon, Moyse. While you were yet weak and +wayward, I neglected the necessary watch over you. Too prone to ease +and satisfaction, for my child's sake and my own, I too soon concluded +you a man, and imposed upon you the duties of a man. Your failure is my +condemnation. I have cut short your discipline, and enabled you to +throw away your life. All this, and much more, am I answerable for. +Whether or not God may have mercy, can you yield me your pardon? I +implore it, Moyse." + +Moyse gazed at him in astonishment, and then cast himself at his uncle's +feet, clinging to his knees, and crying-- + +"Save me! uncle, save me! You can--you will--" + +"No, Moyse, I will not--I cannot," declared Toussaint, in a voice which +silenced even that most piercing of all sounds--the cry for life. + +"Not one word!" continued L'Ouverture. "Keep your entreaties for Him +who alone can help you. Kneel to Him alone. Rise, Moyse, and only say, +if you can say it, that your last prayer for me shall be for pardon." + +The awe of man was not destroyed in Moyse. He looked humbly upon the +ground, as he again stood before his uncle, and said-- + +"My destruction is my own work; and I have felt this throughout. But if +you have ever done me wrong, may it be forgotten before God, as it is by +me! I know of no such wrong." + +"Thank God!" cried Toussaint, pressing him to his breast. "This is the +temper which will win mercy." + +"Leave us now," said Father Laxabon, once more; and this time he was +obeyed. + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. + +ALL EAR. + +Therese was struck with awe as she stood, from time to time, beside the +bed on which lay Genifrede. The room was so darkened that nothing was +to be seen; but there she lay, breathing calmly, motionless, +unconscious, while the blessings and hopes of her young life were +falling fast into ruins around her. It seemed treacherous, cruel, thus +to beguile her of that tremendous night--to let those last hours of the +only life she prized pass away unused--to deprive her of the last +glances of those eyes which were presently to be dim in death--of the +latest tones of that voice which soon would never speak more. It seemed +an irreparable injury to rob her of these hours of intense life, and to +substitute for them a blank and barren sleep. But it was done. It was +done to save her intellect; it had probably saved her life; and she +could not now be wakened to any purpose. With sickening heart, Therese +saw the moonlight disturbed by grey light from the east. In a few +minutes, the sun would leap up from the sea, to quench not only the +gleams of moon and star, but the more sacred lamp of human life. Brief +as was always the twilight there, never had the gushing in of light +appeared so hasty, so peremptory as now. By the rousing up of the +birds, by the stir of the breezes, by the quick unfolding of the +flowers, it seemed as if Nature herself had turned against her wretched +children, and was impatient till their doom was fulfilled. Therese +resolved to return no more to the chamber till all should be over, lest +light and sound should enter with her, and the sufferer be roused too +soon. + +As the yellow rays shone in fuller and fuller, the watcher's nerves were +so stretched, that though she wrapped her head in her shawl as she sat, +she felt as if the rustle of every leaf, the buzz of every insect-wing +in the gardens, reached her ear. She heard at intervals the tap of a +distant drum, and, she was certain, a discharge of firearms--not in a +volley from the Place d'Armes, as she had expected, but further off, and +mere dropping shot. This occurred so often, that she was satisfied it +was not the execution; and, while she drew a deep breath, hardly knew +whether to feel relieved or not. The door from the corridor presently +opened and closed again, before she could throw back the shawl from her +face. She flew to the door, to see if any one was there who could give +her news. Monsieur Pascal was walking away toward the further end. +When she issued forth, he turned and apologised for having interrupted +her, believing that the salon would be unoccupied at this early hour. + +"Tell me--only tell me," said she, "whether it is over." + +"Not the principal execution--it is about going forward now. I came +away--I saw what melted my soul; and I could endure no more." + +"You saw L'Ouverture?" said Madame Dessalines, anxiously. + +Monsieur Pascal went back with her into the salon, as glad to relieve +his mind as she was eager to hear. + +"I saw," said he, "what I never could have conceived of, and would never +have believed upon report. I have seen man as a god among his +fellow-men." + +A gleam of satisfaction lighted up Madame Dessalines' face, through its +agony. + +"It was too touching, too mournful to be endured," resumed Monsieur +Pascal. "The countenances of those poor creatures will haunt me to my +dying hour. Never was man idolised like L'Ouverture. For him, men go +willingly to their deaths--not in the excitement of a common danger; not +for glory or for a bright future--but solitary, in ignominy, in the +light of a calm sunrise, with the eyes of a condemning multitude upon +them. Without protest, without supplication--as it appears, without +objection--they stoop to death at his word." + +"I do not know--I do not understand what has been done," said Therese. +"But does not every black know that L'Ouverture has no private +interests--nothing at heart but the good of us all?" + +"That is the spell," replied Pascal. "This sacrifice of his nephew will +confirm it with my countrymen, as well as with yours, for ever. These +thirteen others--for he has sacrificed thirteen of the soldiers, for +dereliction of duty in the late rising--these thirteen are from the +garrison of Cap, chiefly, though it is said two or three are from Limbe. +All the soldiery from these two places, and from Port Dauphin, are upon +the Place. L'Ouverture stood in the midst and addressed them. He told +them that it was needless to explain to them what they had been learning +from his whole course of conduct, since he was chosen by the blacks to +lead and govern them. It was needless to insist on the protection due +to every inhabitant of the colony, and especially the whites; and on the +primary duty of a liberated race--that of keeping the peace. They knew +their duty as well as he did; and those who had violated it should +suffer the long-declared and inevitable punishment of death. All knew +that everything was prepared on the rampart, near at hand. L'Ouverture +walked slowly along each line of the soldiery; and I declare to you, +Madame, that though all knew that he was selecting victims for instant +death, there was passionate love in every face." + +"I believe it," said Therese. "And he?" + +"He was calm; but a face of deeper sorrow never did I see. He is ten +years older since last night. He spoke aloud the names of the most +guilty, according to their own previous account of themselves to him, +and the committee, of investigation." + +"And no one of the thirteen resisted?" + +"Not one. One by one they joined their hands, bowed their heads humbly +before him, and repaired where he pointed--to be shot. There was a +spell upon me. I could not come away, though feeling at every moment as +if I could endure no more. I did not, however, stay to see General +Moyse brought out--" + +As he was speaking, there was heard the heavy roll of drums at a +distance, followed by a volley of musketry. + +"That is it," cried Monsieur Pascal; and he was gone. Therese sank back +upon a sofa, and again drew her shawl over her head. She desired, in +the sickness of her heart, never to see the daylight more. + +She knew not how long it was before the door was again gently opened. +She did not move; but she presently heard Father Laxabon's soft voice, +saying-- + +"Pardon, Madame, but I am compelled to ask where is Mademoiselle +L'Ouverture?" + +"She is asleep," said Therese, rousing herself--"asleep, if indeed she +be not dead. If this last sound did not rouse her, I think the trumpet +of doom will scarcely reach her soul." + +This last sound had roused Genifrede. She did not recognise it; she was +not aware what had wakened her; but she had started up, supposed it +night, but felt so oppressed that she sprang from the bed, with a +confused wonder at finding herself dressed, and threw open the door to +the salon. There she now stood, bewildered with the sudden light, and +looking doubtful whether to advance or go back. + +"My daughter--" said Father Laxabon. She came forward with a docile and +wistful look. "My daughter," he continued, "I bring you some comfort." + +"Comfort?" she repeated, doubtingly. + +"Not now, Father," interposed Therese. "Spare her." + +"Spare me?" repeated Genifrede in the same tone. + +"I bring her comfort," said the father, turning reprovingly to Madame +Dessalines. "His conflict is over, my daughter," he continued, +advancing to Genifrede. "His last moments were composed; and as for his +state of mind in confession--" + +He was stopped by a shriek so appalling, that he recoiled as if shot, +and supported himself against the wall. Genifrede rushed back to the +chamber, and drove something heavy against the door. Therese was there +in an instant, listening, and then imploring, in a voice which, it might +be thought, no one could resist-- + +"Let me in, love! It is Therese. No one else shall come. If you love +me, let me in." + +There was no answer. + +"You have killed her, I believe," she said to the priest, who was +walking up and down in great disturbance--not with himself, but with the +faithless creature of passion he had to deal with. + +"The windows!" exclaimed Therese, vexed not to have thought of this +before. She stepped out upon the balcony. One of the chamber-windows +was open, and she entered. No one was there. Genifrede must have fled +down the steps from the balcony into the gardens; and there Therese +hastened after her. In one of the fenced walks leading to the fountain, +she saw the fluttering of her clothes. + +"The reservoir!" thought Therese, in despair. + +She was not mistaken. Genifrede stood on the brink of the deep and +brimming reservoir--her hands were clasped above her head for the +plunge, when a strong hand seized her arm, and drew her irresistibly +back. In ungovernable rage she turned, and saw her father. + +"They say," she screamed, "that every one worships you. Not true now! +Never true more! I hate--I curse--" + +He held up his right hand with the action of authority which had awed +her childhood. It awed her now. Her voice sank into a low shuddering +and muttering. + +"That any one should have dared to tell you--that any one should have +interfered between me and my poor child!" he said, as if involuntarily, +while seating her on the fresh grass. He threw himself down beside her, +holding her hands, and covering them with kisses. + +"This sod is fresh and green," said he; "but would we were all lying +under it!" + +"Do _you_ say so?" murmured Genifrede. + +"God forgive me!" he replied. "But we are all wretched." + +"You repent, then?" said Genifrede. "Well you may! There are no more +such, now you have killed him. You should have repented sooner: it is +too late now." + +"I do not repent, Genifrede; but I mourn, my child." + +"There are no more such," pursued she. "He was gallant." + +"He was." + +"He was all life: there was no deadness, no coldness--he was all life." + +"He was, my child." + +"And such a lover!" she continued, with something of a strange proud +smile. + +"He was a lover, Genifrede, who made your parents proud." + +"Such a soldier!" she dreamed on. "War was his sport, while I trembled +at home. He had a soldier's heart." + +Her father was silent; and she seemed to miss his voice, though she had +not appeared conscious of his replies. She started, and sprang to her +feet. + +"You will go home now, Genifrede," said her father. "With Madame +Dessalines you will go. You will go to your mother and sister." + +"Home!" she exclaimed with loathing. "Yes, I must go home," she said, +hurriedly. "You love Pongaudin--you call it paradise. I wish you joy +of it now! You have put an evil spirit into it. I wish you joy of your +paradise!" + +She disengaged herself from him as she spoke, and walked away. Therese, +who had drawn back on seeing that she was in her father's care, now +intercepted her path, met her, and drew her arm within hers. Toussaint, +who was following, retreated for a moment, to ease his agony by a brief +prayer for his child, and for guidance and strength. Having +acknowledged with humiliation that he found his mission well-nigh too +hard for him, and imploring for the wounded in spirit the consolation +which he would willingly purchase for his brother and his child by a +life of woe for himself, he repaired to his chamber of audience; where, +for the rest of the morning, he appeared wholly engrossed by the affairs +of the citizens of Cap. The steadiness of his attention to business was +felt by his still agitated secretary as a rebuke to his own wandering +thoughts. + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. + +PERCH OF THE RAVEN. + +Euphrosyne's life in the convent was dull and weary. It would probably +have been so anywhere, for some time after the old man's death: but +elsewhere there would have been more to do and to amuse herself with. +Every one was kind to her--too kind. She had been accustomed to the +voice of chiding during all the years that she had lived with her +grandfather; and she did not mind it. It would now have been something +of a relief, something welcome and familiar, to have been called "child" +and "little fool" at times, instead of being told at every turn that she +was an angel and a love, and finding that she was every one's pet, from +the abbess to old Raphael. + +The kindness of the household had begun from the moment the poor girl +appeared, after having been consoled by Father Gabriel, and visited by +Pierre, and the guardian to whose care her grandfather had confided her +person and her property. Pierre had engaged to see her daily till the +furniture should have been sold, and the house shut up, and he himself +about to embark for France, with the savings of his long service. Her +guardian, Monsieur Critois, knew but little of young people, and how to +talk to them. He had assured her that he mourned extremely the loss of +his old acquaintance--the acquaintance of so many years--and so lost. +He declared his desire of discharging his office of guardian so as to +prove himself worthy of the trust, and his hope that he and his ward +should be very good friends. At present, it was his wish that she +should remain where she was; and he asked whether she did not find every +one very kind to her. Euphrosyne could just say, "Yes;" but she was +crying too much to be able to add, that she hoped she should not have to +remain in the convent very long. Monsieur Critois saw that she was +struggling to say something: but, after waiting a minute, he stroked her +hair, promised to come again some day soon, hoped she would cheer up, +had no doubt she would be very happy--and was gone, glad to have done +with sobbing girls for this day. + +When the gates had closed upon him, the petting began. The abbess +decreed that Euphrosyne should have the sole charge of her mocking-bird. +Sister Angelique, who made the prettiest artificial flowers in the +world, invited her to her apartment at all reasonable hours, when she +might have a curiosity to see to learn the process. Sister Celestine +had invented a new kind of comfit which she begged Euphrosyne to try, +leaving a paper of sweetmeats on her table for that purpose. Old +Raphael had gained leave to clear a parterre in the garden which was to +be wholly hers, and where he would rear such flowers as she particularly +admired. Father Gabriel himself, after pointing out to her the +uncertainty of life, the sudden surprises of death, and the care with +which it becomes social beings to discharge their duties to each other, +since they know not how soon they may be parted--the serious Father +Gabriel himself recommended her to amuse herself, and to remember how +her grandfather had liked to see her gay. She had, no doubt, been a +good girl on the whole; and she could not now do better than continue +the conduct which had pleased the departed in the days that were gone. + +Petted people generally prove perverse; and so, in the opinion of the +universal household, did Euphrosyne. There could be no doubt of her +love for her grandfather. One need but see the sudden tears that +sprang, twenty times in a day, when any remembrance of him was awakened. +One need but watch her wistful looks cast up towards his balcony, +whenever she was in the garden. Yet, when any one expressed indignation +against his murderers, she was silent, or she ran away, or she protested +against it. Such was the representation which sister Claire made to her +reverend mother, on the first opportunity. + +"I was not aware that it was exactly so," replied the abbess. "It +appears to me that she dislikes to hear any parties made answerable for +the murder but those by whose hands it was actually done. She--" + +The abbess stopped, and sister Claire started, at the sound of musketry. + +"Another shot!" said the abbess. "It is a fearful execution. I should +have been glad to have removed this poor child out of hearing of these +shots; but I had no notice of what was to happen, till the streets were +too full for her to appear in them." + +"A piece of L'Ouverture's haste!" said sister Claire. + +"A fresh instance, perhaps, of his wise speed," observed the abbess. +"Events seem to show that he understands the conduct of affairs better +than you and I, my daughter." + +"Again! Hark! Oh, mercy!" cried sister Claire, as the sound of a +prolonged volley reached them. + +"Let us hope it is the last," said the abbess, with changing colour. +"Christ save their sinful souls!" + +The door opened, and Euphrosyne entered, in excessive agitation. + +"Madame," she cried, gasping for breath, "do you hear that? Do you know +what it is? They have shot General Moyse! Father Gabriel says so.--Oh +no, no! L'Ouverture never would do anything so cruel." + +Sister Claire looked at the abbess. + +"My daughter," said the abbess, "L'Ouverture's duty is to execute +justice." + +"Oh, Genifrede! Poor, poor Genifrede! She will die too. I hope she is +dead." + +"Hush, my child! Her life is in God's hands." + +"Oh, how cruel! how cruel!" the girl went on, sobbing. + +"What would L'Ouverture say," interposed sister Claire, "if he knew that +you, of all people, called him cruel? Have you to-day put on this?" she +continued, calling Euphrosyne's attention to her new mourning; "and do +you call it cruel to execute justice on the rebels and their officers?" + +"It is a natural and amiable grief in Euphrosyne," said the abbess; "and +if it is not quite reasonable, we can give her time to reflect. She is +among friends, who will not report the words of her hours of sorrow." + +"You may--you may," cried Euphrosyne. "You may tell the whole world +that it is cruel to--to--They were to have been married so very soon!-- +Afra wrote me all about it." + +The abbess repeated what she had said about L'Ouverture's office, and +the requirements of justice. + +"Justice! justice!" exclaimed Euphrosyne. "There has been no justice +till now; and so the first act is nothing but cruelty." + +The abbess with a look dismissed sister Claire, who, by her report of +Euphrosyne's rebellion against justice, sent in Father Gabriel. + +"Euphrosyne thinks, father," reported the abbess, "that these negroes, +in consideration of their ignorance, and of their anger at having once +been slaves, should be excused for whatever they may do now, in +revenge." + +"I am surprised," said Father Gabriel. + +So was Euphrosyne when she heard her argument thus stated. + +"I only mean," said she, striving to subdue her sobs; "I only mean that +I wish sister Claire, and sister Benoite, and all of them, would not +want me to be glad and revengeful." + +"Glad and revengeful!" repeated Father Gabriel. "That would be +difficult." + +"It makes me very miserable--it can do no good now--it could not bring +grandpapa to life again, if every negro in Limbe were shot," she +continued, as tears rained down her cheeks. "Dear grandpapa never +wished any ill to anybody--he never did anybody any harm--" + +The priest and the abbess exchanged glances. + +"Why do you suppose these wretched blacks killed him, my dear?" + +"I do not know why they rose, this one particular time. But I believe +they have always risen because the whites have been proud and cruel; +because the whites used to put them in chains, and whip them, and part +mothers and children. After doing all this, and after bringing them up +ignorant and without religion, we expect them to forgive everything that +has passed, while we will not forgive them ourselves. But I will--I +will forgive them my share. For all that you religious people may say, +I will forgive them: and I am not afraid of what grandpapa would think. +I hope he is in a place now where there is no question about forgiving +those who have injured us. The worst thing is, the thing that I cannot +understand is, how L'Ouverture could do anything so cruel." + +"I have a word to say to you, my dear," said the priest, with a sign to +the abbess. + +"Oh, father!" replied the abbess, in an imploring tone. + +"We must bring her to a right view, reverend sister. Euphrosyne, if +your grandfather had not been the kind master you suppose him--if he had +been one of the cruel whites you spoke of just now, if his own slaves +had always hated him, and--" + +"Do stop!" said Euphrosyne, colouring crimson. "I cannot bear to hear +you speak so, father." + +"You must bear, my child, to listen to what it is good for you to hear. +If he had been disliked by every black in the colony, and they had +sought his life out of revenge, would you still be angry that justice +was done, and ungrateful that he is avenged?" + +"You talk of avenging--you, a Christian priest!" said Euphrosyne. "You +talk of justice--you, who slander the dead!" + +"Peace, my daughter," said the abbess, very gently. "Remember where you +are, and whom you speak to." + +"Remember where my grandfather is," cried Euphrosyne. "Remember that he +is in his grave, and that I am left to speak for him. However," she +said--and, in these few moments, a thousand confirmations of the +priest's words had rushed upon her memory--a thousand tokens of the +mutual fear and hatred of her grandfather and the black race, a thousand +signs of his repugnance to visit Le Bosquet--"however," she resumed, in +a milder tone, and with an anxious glance at Father Gabriel's face, +"Father Gabriel only said `if'--_if_ all that he described had been so." + +"True, my child," replied the abbess: "Father Gabriel only said `if it +had been so.'" + +"And if it had," exclaimed Euphrosyne, who did not wish to hear the +father speak again at the moment--"if it had been so, it would have been +wicked in the negroes to do that act in revenge; but it could never, +never excuse us from forgiving them--from pitying them because they had +been made cruel and revengeful. I am sure I wish they had all lived-- +that they might live many, many years, till they could forget those +cruel old times, and, being old men themselves, might feel what it is to +touch an old man's life. This is the kind of punishment I wish them; +and I am sure it would be enough." + +"It is indeed said," observed the abbess, "`Vengeance is mine; I will +repay, saith the Lord.'" + +"And oh! poor Genifrede!" pursued Euphrosyne. "She no more wished ill +to my parent than I do to hers; and her lover--it was not he that did +it: and yet--Oh, Father Gabriel, are you sure that that firing--that +last volley--" + +"It was certainly the death stroke of Moyse. I perceive how it is, my +child. I perceive that your friendships among this new race have +blinded your eyes, so that you cannot see that these executions are, +indeed, God's avenging of the murder by which you are made a second time +an orphan." + +"Do you think L'Ouverture right, then? I should be glad to believe that +he was not cruel--dreadfully cruel." + +"There is no doubt of L'Ouverture's being wise and right--of his having +finally assured the most unwilling of the inhabitants of their security, +and his stern justice. There is no doubt that L'Ouverture is right." + +"I could not have believed," said the abbess, "that my daughter would +have required a justification of anything done by L'Ouverture." + +"Nor I," said Euphrosyne, sighing. + +"Under him," said Father Gabriel, "there is less crime in the colony +than, I verily believe, in any other part of the empire. Under him have +homes become sacred, children are instructed, and brethren are taught to +dwell together in unity." + +"As," said the abbess, "when he stopped in his journey to greet an old +negro of ninety-nine, and reconcile to him two who had offended out of +his many children. L'Ouverture is never in so much haste but that he +can pause to honour old ago: never too busy for works of mercy. If the +peace-makers are blessed, so is he." + +"And where," continued the father, "where are the poor? We can observe +his continual admonition to works of mercy, by nursing the sick, and +consoling the afflicted; but we have no longer any poor. By his wisdom, +he has won over all to labour. The fields are thronged with labourers: +the bays are crowded with ships: the store-houses are overflowing with +food and merchandise: and there is a portion for all." + +"And it was the French," said Euphrosyne, "who made this last commotion. +If they had let L'Ouverture alone, how happy we might all have been! +Now, Genifrede will never be happy again. If L'Ouverture could only +have forgiven this once! But, father, I have no comfort--and never +shall have comfort, as long as I think that men have been murdered for +injuring us." + +"Pray for comfort, my child. In prayer you will find consolation." + +"I dare not pray, now this has happened. If they were but alive, how I +would pray for them!" + +"They are alive, my daughter, and where they much need your prayers. +Pray for them, and your intercession may be heard." + +Euphrosyne saw that her feelings were not understood; and she said no +more. She listened to all the teachings that were offered her, and +reserved her doubts and troubles for Afra's ear. Afra would tell her +whether it could be right in such a Christian as L'Ouverture to render +violence for violence. As for what the father and the abbess said about +the effect of example, and the necessity and the benefit of assuring and +conciliating the whites, by sacrificing negro offenders for their sakes, +she dissented from it altogether. She had witnessed Toussaint's power-- +the power with which his spirit of gentleness and forbearance endowed +him; and she believed that, if he would but try, he would find he could +govern better by declaring always for the right and against the wrong, +and leaving vengeance to God, than by the violent death of all the +ignorant and violent men in the island. She would ask Afra. She was +pretty sure Afra would think as she did: and, if so, the time might +come--it made her breathless to think of it, but she could not help +thinking of it every day--the time might come when she might ask +Toussaint himself what he thought was exactly meant, in all cases, by +forgiving our enemies; and particularly whether this did not extend to +forgiving other people's enemies, and using no vengeance and no violence +at all. + +This idea of seeing Afra gained strength under all the circumstances of +her present life. If Father Gabriel offered her comfort which was no +comfort, or reproved her when she did not feel herself wrong; if the +abbess praised her for anything she had not designed to be particularly +right; if the sisters applauded sayings which she was conscious were not +wise; if her heart ached for her grandfather's voice or countenance; if +Monsieur Critois visited her, or Pierre did not; if her lesson in +history was hard, or her piece of needle-work dull; if her flowers +faded, or her bird sang so finely that she would have been proud for the +world to hear it--the passion for seeing Afra was renewed. Afra would +explain all she could not understand, would teach her what she wanted to +know. Afra would blame her where she was aware she was wrong, instead +of bidding her be quit of it with a few prayers, while laying much +heavier stress upon something that she could cure much more easily. +Afra wrote her a few letters, which were read by the abbess before they +were delivered to her; and many more which. Pierre slipped into her +hand during their occasional interviews. She herself wrote such +prodigiously long letters to Afra, that to read them through would have +been too great an addition to the reverend mother's business. She +glanced over the first page and the last; and, seeing that they +contained criticisms on Alexander the Great, and pity for Socrates, and +questions about flower-painting and embroidery, she skipped all that lay +between. + +It was not that Euphrosyne did not love and trust the abbess. She loved +her so as to open to her all but the inner chambers of her heart; and +she trusted her with all but other persons' concerns. The middle pages +of her letters contained speculation chiefly: speculation, in the first +place, on Afra's future destiny, names and events being shrouded under +mysterious expressions; and, in the second place, on points of morals, +which might be referred to Monsieur Pascal, whose opinion was of great +value. Euphrosyne had a strong persuasion, all the while, that she +should one day tell her reverend mother the whole. She knew that she +should not object to her seeing every line that Afra held of hers. +Whatever was clandestine in the correspondence was for the sake of +avoiding restraint, and not because she was ashamed of any of her +thoughts. + +One morning the abbess found her in the garden, listlessly watching the +hues of a bright lizard, as it lay panting in the sun. The abbess put +her arm round her waist, while stooping to look. + +"How it glitters!" said she. "It is a pretty piece of God's handiwork: +but we must leave it now, my dear. This sun is too hot for you. Your +chamber, or sister Claire's room, is the fittest place for you at this +hour. You find your chamber cool?" + +"Yes, madam." + +"The new ventilator works well?" + +"Yes, madam." + +"You find--this way, my dear--this alley is the most shady--you find +your little bed comfortable?" + +"Yes, madam." + +"And your toilet-cover--sister Marie's work--is, I think, extremely +pretty: and the book-shelf that Father Gabriel gave you very convenient. +Your friends here, my dear, are fond of you. They are anxious to make +you happy." + +"They are all very kind to me, madam." + +"I am glad you are sensible of it. You are not of an ungrateful nature, +we all know." + +"I hope not: but, madam, I cannot stay here always." + +"I was going to say, my dear, that we have not done everything in our +power for you yet. We must not forget that we grave women must be dull +companions for a girl like you." + +"It is not that, reverend mother. But I cannot stay here always." + +"You will find it a very different thing when you have a companion of +your own age, which I hope will be the case very soon. There is a +negotiation on foot respecting a sweet girl, every way worthy of being +your companion--" + +"But, madam, I do not want that--I do not wish for any companion while I +am here. I had much rather be alone; but--" + +"But you would like to leave us--eh? You would like to be on a +plantation, where you could amuse yourself with playing with the little +negroes, and driving about the country, and visiting your neighbours two +or three times a week?" + +Euphrosyne smiled, and plucked a twig to play with. + +"You would like," continued the abbess, "to live with accomplished +people--to have a fine library, to lie on a couch and read during the +hot hours; and to sing gay songs in the piazza in the evening." + +Euphrosyne smiled again. + +"You would like," the abbess went on, "to dance, night after night, and +to make pic-nic parties to the cacao walks, and to the shore. You would +like to win over your guardian to let you have your own way in +everything: and, to be sure, in comparison with his house, our +convent--" + +"My guardian!" exclaimed Euphrosyne. "Live at Monsieur Critois'! Oh +no!" And she laughed as she went on-- + +"He would be telling me every day that we should be very good friends. +He would be saying all day long that it was his desire fully to +discharge his duty to me. I can hardly help shaking off his hand now, +when he strokes my hair: and, if it came to his doing it every morning, +we should certainly quarrel. They say Madame Critois never speaks; so I +suppose she admires his conversation too much to interrupt it. There +she and I should never agree.--Live at my guardian's! Oh no!" + +"You were thinking of some other house while I was describing your +guardian's, my dear. What were you thinking of? Where would you live?" + +Euphrosyne plucked another twig, having pulled the first to pieces. She +smiled again, blushed, and said she would tell her reverend mother very +soon what home she was thinking of: she could not tell to-day; but in a +little while-- + +"In the meantime," said the abbess, with a scrutinising gaze,--"in the +meantime, I conclude Father Gabriel knows all that is in your mind." + +"You will know in good time what I am thinking of, madam: everybody will +know." + +The abbess was troubled. + +"This is beginning early," she said, as if thinking aloud; "this is +beginning early with the mysteries and entanglements of life and the +world! How wonderful it is to look on, to be a witness of these things +for two or three successive generations! How every young creature +thinks her case something wholly new--the emotions of her awakened heart +something that God never before witnessed, and that man never conceived +of! After all that has been written about love, upon the cavern walls +of Hindoo temples, and in the hieroglyphics of old Egypt, and printed +over all the mountains and valleys of the world by that deluge which was +sent to quench unhallowed love, every young girl believes in her day +that something unheard-of has happened when the dream has fallen upon +her. My dear child, listen to one who knows more of life than you do-- +to one who would have you happy, not only in the next world, but in +this." + +"Thank you, reverend mother." + +"Love is holy and blessed, my dear, when it comes in its due season-- +when it enters into a mind disciplined for new duties, and a heart +waiting for new affections. In one who has no mother to help and +comfort--" + +"No mother, it is true," said Euphrosyne. + +"The mother is the parent naturally most missed," said the abbess, +supposing she was reading her pupil's mind. "Where there is no mother +by a young girl's side, and no brothers and sisters to serve, the fancy +and the heart are apt to fix prematurely on some object--too likely, in +that case, to be one which will deceive and fail. But, my dear, such a +young girl owes duty to herself, if God has seen fit to make her +solitary in the world." + +"One cannot say solitary," interposed Euphrosyne, "or without duties." + +"You are right, my love. No one is, indeed, solitary in life, (blessed +be God!) nor without duties. As I was going to say, such a young girl's +business is to apply herself diligently to her education, during the +years usually devoted to instruction. This is the work appointed to her +youth. If, while her mind is yet ignorant, her judgment inexperienced, +and her tastes actually unformed, she indulges any affection or fancy +which makes her studies tedious, her companions dull, and her mind and +spirits listless, she has fallen into a fearful snare." + +"How long then would you have a girl's education go on? And if her +lover be very particularly wise and learned, do not you think she may +learn more from him than in any other way? And if she be not dull and +listless, but very happy--" + +"Every girl," interrupted the abbess, with a grave smile, "thinks her +lover the wisest man in the world: and no girl in love would exchange +her dreams for the gayest activity of the fancy-free." + +"Well, but, as to the age," persisted Euphrosyne; "how soon--" + +"That depends upon circumstances, my dear. But in all cases, I consider +sixteen too early." + +"Sixteen! Yes. But nineteen--or, one may say, twenty. Twenty, next +month but one." + +"My dear," said the abbess, stopping short, "you do not mean to say--" + +"Indeed, madam," said Euphrosyne, very earnestly, "Afra will be twenty +in two months. I know her ago to a day, and--" + +"And you have been speaking of Mademoiselle Raymond all this time! +Well, well--" + +"And you were thinking of me, I do believe. Oh, madam, how could you! +Why, I never saw anybody." + +"I was wondering how it could be," said the abbess, striving to conceal +her amusement and satisfaction. "I was surprised that you should have +seen any one yet; and I was going to give you a lecture about +half-confidences with Father Gabriel." + +"And I could not conceive what Father Gabriel had to do with Afra's +affairs, or how you came to know anything about it. I have let it out +now, however; and I do not know what Afra will say." + +"You have not told me who the gentleman is, you know; so there is not +much harm done. No, do not tell me, my dear, till Mademoiselle Raymond +desires it." + +"Oh, I may as well, now you know so much. I dare say Afra would have no +objection; particularly as you will then understand what I meant about +living somewhere else. When you talked of a fine library," she +continued, laughing, "how could I suppose you were thinking of any in +the colony but Monsieur Pascal's?" + +"So he is the gentleman," said the abbess. "How times are changed! A +lady of colour may be Madame Pascal now, without reproach." + +"I am glad it is out," said Euphrosyne, gaily. "I can speak now to +somebody about Afra. Oh, madam, you do not know, you cannot imagine, +how they love one another." + +"Cannot I?"--and the abbess sighed. + +"And I may look forward to living with them. They say I may, madam. +They say I must. And surely my guardian will have no objection. Do you +think he can, madam?" + +"Indeed I do not know. I am acquainted with the parties only by +hearsay. Report speaks highly of Monsieur Pascal. Some persons at +Paris, and some formerly in office here, are surprised at his +unqualified adherence to the Ouverture system; but I never heard +anything worse of him than that." + +"And that is nothing but good, as any one would say who really knew all +those dear people. L'Ouverture and Monsieur Pascal are almost like +father and son. Afra says--" + +"My dear," interposed the abbess, "you wondered how I knew of this +affair. You must allow me to wonder how you have gained all this +intelligence. Mademoiselle Raymond must have crossed her letters with +sympathetic inks, which the warmth of your friendship brought out; for +not a syllable of what you have told me have her letters conveyed to +me." + +The abbess did not mean to press for an answer; so indulgent was she +made by the complacency of discovering that her charge was not entangled +in a love affair. While Euphrosyne was blushing, and hunting for a +reply which should be true and yet guarded, she was relieved by the +rapid approach of sister Benoite. + +"Something is amiss," said the abbess, assuming the look of calmness +with which she was wont to await bad news. "What has happened to alarm +you, my daughter?" + +"There is a message, reverend mother," said the breathless nun, "from +Madame Oge. She invites herself to our evening repast. If you cannot +receive her to-day, she will come to-morrow." + +"She shall be welcome," said the abbess; without, however, much of the +spirit of welcome in her tone. + +"So this is our calamity!" said Euphrosyne, laughing. + +"There is calamity at hand, assuredly," sighed sister Benoite. "Nay, +nay, my daughter. This is superstition," said the abbess. + +"Whatever it be, reverend mother, do we not all, does not every one +quake when Madame Oge comes abroad?" + +"It is but seldom that she does," said the abbess, "and it is our part +to make her welcome." + +"But seldom, indeed, reverend mother. When all goes well--when the +crops are fine, and the island all at peace, no one hears of Madame Oge. +She keeps within her coffee-groves--" + +"Mourning her sons," interposed the abbess. "But," continued the nun, +"when any disaster is about to happen, we have notice of it by Madame +Oge coming abroad. She came to this very house the first day of the +meeting of the deputies, in that terrible August of ninety-one. She +came a day or two before the rising against Hedouville. She came the +night before the great hurricane of ninety-seven--" + +"That was an accident," said the abbess, smiling. "Then you think it is +not by accident that she always comes out before misfortunes happen?" +asked Euphrosyne, trembling as she spoke. + +"By no means, my dear. It is easily explained. Madame Oge looks upon +her sons as martyrs in the cause of the mulattoes. When all goes well, +as all has done, under L'Ouverture's rule, with only a few occasional +troubles--fewer and slighter than might have been expected during such a +change in society as we have witnessed--when all goes well, Madame Oge +feels that her sons are forgotten; and, as my daughter Benoite says, she +mourns them alone in the shades of her coffee-groves. She seems, +however, to have means of information which persons less interested have +not: and when she has reason to believe that troubles will ensue, she +hopes that the names of her sons will once more be a watchword, for the +humiliation of both blacks and whites; and she comes forth with her +hungry maternal heart, and her quick maternal ear, to catch the first +echo of the names which are for ever mingled with her prayers." + +"Can she mingle those names with her prayers, and yet not forgive?" + +"My child, is it not so with us all? Do we not pray for our enemies, +and ask to be forgiven as we forgive, and come out from our closets with +ears open to the fresh slanders of the day, and hearts ready to burn at +the thought of old injuries? It might be well for us, if we had the +excuse of this wretched woman, whose woes have been such as might +naturally have shaken her reason, and prostrated her will. If there be +any above others with whom God will be long suffering, it is with the +mother whose children have been torn from her arms to be tortured and +destroyed, and their very names made a term of reproach." + +"You think something is going to happen?" + +"As my daughter Benoite says, on one occasion there was a hurricane. +To-morrow the sun may rise, or there may be a cloud in the sky." + +"Nay, but--" said sister Benoite. + +"Nay, but," said the abbess, smiling, "I will have nothing said which +shall make Euphrosyne look upon my guest as a sorceress, or as the +instrument of any evil one. I wish all my daughters to meet Madame Oge +with cheerfulness. It is the best I have to offer her,--the +cheerfulness of my family; and that of which she has least at home. You +hear, Euphrosyne?" + +"Madam, you do not mean that I am to see her. Indeed I cannot,--indeed +I dare not. It is no disrespect--quite the contrary. But I could not +hold up my head before one who--" + +"Poor Madame Oge, if all said so!" exclaimed the abbess. + +"That is true," said Euphrosyne. "I will be there: but, dear mother, do +not speak particularly to me. Do not draw her attention upon me." + +"I will not, my dear." + +"Do you think she will speak angrily of the Ouvertures? I hope she will +say nothing about poor General Moyse." + +"You must hear what she says, be it what it may." + +"True. And it is only for one evening. But I wish it was over. I +shall be glad when to-morrow morning is come, and I shall be in this +alley again." + +"Meantime, my dear, you have been long enough here for this morning. +Let us go in." + +The prospect of any guest was in itself acceptable to the sisterhood. +It gave them something to do, and afforded one day of variety. The +abbess's parlour and the refectory had to be adorned with fresh flowers. +Napkins, of the workmanship of one sister, were laid beside the plates; +and on the table were fruits gathered by another, sweetmeats made by a +third, and chocolate prepared by the careful hands of a fourth. Even +the abbess's veil looked whiter, and more exactly put on than usual. +Everything within the walls was in its nicest order some time before +Madame Oge's carriage drew up before the gate. + +Two or three of the sisters and Euphrosyne were with the abbess in her +parlour, when Madame Oge entered. Euphrosyne had permission to bring in +her work; so that she could sit plying her needle, and listening to what +went on, without many nervous feelings about being observed by a person +whom she could become acquainted with only by stealing glances at her +face. + +That face, she thought, must in its youth have had much of the beauty +common among mulattoes, if not natural to them, in a favourable climate, +it was now deeply impressed with sorrow. Every line, every feature, +told of sorrow. There was no other painful expression in it. There was +great solemnity, but stillness rather than passion;--nothing which +warranted, in itself, the superstitious fears which the sisters had of +the unhappy lady. She was handsomely dressed, and her manner was quiet. + +The conversation turned first upon the state of the coffee and sugar +crops, about which little could be said, because the prospect of every +kind of produce was excellent. So much regard was everywhere paid to +the processes of cultivation; and the practice of ten years, under the +vigilant eye of Toussaint and his agents, had so improved the methods of +tillage and the habits of the cultivators, that the bounties of the soil +and climate were improved instead of being intercepted. Every year, +since the revolution, the harvests had been richer; and this was the +crowning year. + +"Yes," said Madame Oge: "we have heard a great deal of all that; and I +fancy we have nearly heard the last of it." + +"There must, indeed," replied the abbess, "be some limit to the +fruitfulness of the soil, and to the industry of those who till it: and +it does seem as if the earth could yield no more than it is bringing +forth this year." + +"Father Gabriel says," observed sister Claire, "that in his journeys he +could almost believe that the fields sing, and the hills rejoice with +music, as the Scripture says--the cultivators are so hidden among the +corn and the canes, and the groves and the vines, that their songs +really seem to come out of the ground." + +"It is in the woods," added sister Benoite, "as if the very trees +shouted--" + +She stopped abruptly before the name L'Ouverture, remembering that it +would not be acceptable to all the present company. + +"I have no doubt," said Madame Oge, "that all the monkeys and parrots +are taught to shout L'Ouverture. Like his people, they are quick at +learning that much. But I imagine there will be something else for +Toussaint to do presently, than teaching the birds of the woods to +praise him." + +As no one asked what was likely to happen, she reserved for the present +the news they trembled to hear; and went on-- + +"It is grievous to see so good a negro as Toussaint lost and spoiled. I +knew him of old, when he was at Breda: and many a time has Monsieur +Bayou told me that he was the most faithful, decent, clever, +well-mannered negro on the estate." + +"I believe he preserves those qualities still," observed the abbess, +reproving with a glance the laugh which was rising at this description +of the Commander-in-chief. + +"If those had been masters who ought to have been masters," pursued +Madame Oge, "Toussaint would, no doubt, have been placed at the head of +the negroes: for we knew him well--I and they whom I have lost. Then, +without insubordination,--without any being lifted out of their proper +places, to put down others--we should have had a vast improvement in the +negroes. Toussaint would have been made their model, and perhaps would +have been rewarded with his freedom, some day or other, for an example. +This would have satisfied all the ambition he had by nature. He would +have died a free man, and perhaps have emancipated his family. As it +is, they will all die slaves: and they will feel it all the harder for +the farce of greatness they have been playing these ten years. I am +very sorry for them: and I always was; for I foresaw from the beginning +how it would end." + +"Do you really imagine that any one thinks of enslaving this wonderful +man again? And what should make him submit to it?" + +"He would sooner lay a train to the root of Cibao, and blow up the +island," exclaimed Euphrosyne. + +"Are you one of his party, young lady? You look too much as if you were +but just landed from France for me to suppose that I was speaking before +a friend of L'Ouverture's. If you really are lately from France, you +may know that there is a greater than our poor Toussaint, to whom he +must yield at command." + +"I have never been at Paris, madame; and I do not believe that there is +a greater than L'Ouverture, there, or anywhere else." + +"You have been a happy child, I see: you have lived so retired from our +miserable world as not to have heard of Bonaparte. It was by Bonaparte, +my dear, for Bonaparte's convenience, and (it is my idea) for his +amusement, that Toussaint was made what he is, and allowed to gallop +about with his trumpeters behind him, for so long. You look as if you +did not believe me, my dear. Well: time will show." + +"I thought," said Euphrosyne, "that Toussaint was the First of the +Blacks before Bonaparte was the First of the Whites. I have no doubt, +however, that it has been very convenient to Bonaparte, and very +surprising to him and everybody, that the colony has been so perfectly +well governed by one from whom they could have expected nothing. I hope +Bonaparte will be too wise and too grateful to injure him, or even to +hurt his feelings; and I feel very sure that Bonaparte is not strong +enough, with all the world to help him, to make L'Ouverture and his +family slaves again." + +"We shall see. Even I may live to see it; and I have no doubt you will. +Bonaparte is going to try; and, if he cannot, as you say, do it by +himself, he may now persuade all the world to help him: for he is making +peace on all hands." + +"You have that news from France?" inquired the abbess. + +"I have it from a sure quarter--never mind how. It will soon be +generally known that the preliminaries of peace between France and +England are signed: and I happen to know two things more: that Bonaparte +has agreed to maintain negro slavery in Martinique, Guadaloupe, and +Cayenne: and that--(pray listen, young lady)--he declares to the English +that he can do what he pleases in Saint Domingo. I wish he could see +that angry blush. Pray look at her, Madame! I see she thinks Bonaparte +a very impertinent fellow." + +"I do," replied Euphrosyne; "and I hope he will know better, and feel +better, before he is L'Ouverture's ago." + +"Ha! he ought to know what disloyal little hearts there are beating +against him in this Saint Domingo that he thinks all his own." + +"Perhaps," observed the abbess, "he used these words when he was not +speaking of slavery; but rather from being aware of the loyalty of the +Ouverture family; which is, I believe, exemplary." + +"It is," declared Euphrosyne, looking up with glowing eyes. "He has not +only served, but worshipped Bonaparte, all the years that they have both +ruled. In his own family, Monsieur Pascal says--" + +"What is Monsieur Pascal to do under the changes that are coming?" +interrupted Madame Oge. "He has placed himself in a difficulty, it +seems to me. Will he go under the yoke with his father-in-law? (for I +suppose, in his devotion, he will be marrying one of Toussaint's +daughters). Will he take the hoe, and go into the field--? You are +smiling, my dear young lady." + +Euphrosyne was indeed smiling. She could not but hope that, as Madame +Oge was so ill-informed about the affairs of Monsieur Pascal, and of the +Raymonds, who were of her own colour, she might be mistaken about the +whole of her news. + +"You are smiling," repeated Madame Oge. "Though you stoop your head +over your work, I see that you have some droll thought." + +"It would be strange, certainly," replied Euphrosyne, "to see the +philosophical Monsieur Pascal hoeing canes, or working at the mill. Yet +I believe we may be certain that he will be a slave as soon as +Toussaint, or any negro in Saint Domingo." + +"Young people like to be positive," said Madame Oge to the abbess. "But +it does not much matter, as they have life before them; time enough to +see what is true, and what is not. Is it your doctrine, my dear young +lady, that God has given over His wrath towards this island; and that it +is to be happy henceforth, with the negroes for masters?" + +"With the negroes for equals, I think it may be happy. But I never +thought of God being wrathful towards us. I thought our miseries had +arisen out of men's wrath with each other." + +"If ever," said Madame Oge, in a low tone, but yet so that every word +was heard--"if ever there was a place set apart by cursing--if ever +there was a hell upon this earth, it is this island. Men can tell us +where paradise was--it was not here, whatever Columbus might say. The +real paradise where the angels of God kept watch, and let no evil thing +enter, was on the other side of the globe: and I say that this place was +meant for a hell, as that was for a heaven, upon earth. It looked like +heaven to those who first came: but that was the devil's snare. It was +to make lust sweeter, and cruelty safer, that he adorned the place as he +did. In a little while, it appeared like what it was. The innocent +natives were corrupted; the defenceless were killed; the strong were +made slaves. The plains were laid waste, and the valleys and woods were +rifled. The very bees ceased to store their honey: and among the wild +game there was found no young. Then came the sea-robbers, and haunted +the shores: and many a dying wretch screamed at night among the +caverns--many a murdered corpse lies buried in our sands. Then the +negroes were brought in from over the sea; and from among their chains, +from under the lash, grew up the hatred of races. The whites hated the +mulattoes, and despised the blacks. The mulattoes hated both the whites +and the blacks; and--" + +"And," interposed Euphrosyne, courageously, "the blacks hated neither. +They loved where they could; and where they could not love, they +forgave; and there lies the proof that this island is not hell." + +"You have proved nothing, my dear, but that you do not know what has +happened, even since you were born. Any white will tell you what the +negroes did, so late as the year ninety-one--how they killed their +masters by inches--how they murdered infants--how they carried off +ladies into the woods--" + +A sign from the abbess availed to stop Madame Oge, even in the midst of +a subject on which none usually dared to interrupt her. Euphrosyne, in +some agitation, replied, "I am aware of all that you say: but every one +allows that the most ignorant and cruel of the negroes did over again +exactly what they had seen the whites do to their race. But these +revengeful blacks were few, very few, in comparison with the numbers who +spared their masters, helped and comforted them, and are now working on +their estates--friends with all who will be friends with them. The +place is not hell where thousands of men forgot the insults of a +lifetime, and bind up the wounds of their oppressors." + +"I cannot doubt," said the abbess, "that ever since there was a +Christian in the island, there have been angels of God at hand, to +sanctify the evil which they were not commissioned to prevent. Violence +is open to the day. Patience is hidden in the heart. Revenge has +shouted his battle-cry at noon, while Forgiveness breathes her lowly +prayer at midnight. Spirits from hell may have raged along our high +roads; but I trust that in the fiercest times, the very temper of Christ +may have dwelt in a thousand homes, in a thousand nooks of our valleys +and our woods." + +"Besides," sister Benoite ventured to say, "our worst troubles were so +long ago! For ten years now we have been under the holy rule of a +devout man; and, for the most part, at peace." + +"Peace!" exclaimed Madame Oge, contemptuously. + +"There have been disputes among the rulers, as Father Gabriel says there +are among all the rulers in the world; but he says (and no one knows +better than Father Gabriel) that the body of the people have not been +troubled by these disputes, and are not even aware of them." + +"Does not Father Gabriel tell you that ten years are but a day in heaven +and hell? Yes, in hell--they may be long for suffering; but they are +short for revenge. The cruel master, who saw one slave faint under the +lash, and let another die in the stocks, and tore the husband from the +wife, and the child from the mother, might escape for the time with the +destruction of his family, punished for his sake:--he might live safely +in the midst of the city, for the ten years you speak of; but, let him +venture out for a single day--let him but drive to his own estate and +back again, and grey as his head is, he is shot in his own carriage, as +soon as it is dark." + +Before the abbess could anticipate what was coming, the words were out. +Before she could make a sign, Euphrosyne had rushed from the room. + +It was not long before the abbess entered the chamber of her charge. +She found her stretched on the bed, not weeping, but shuddering with +horror. + +"My daughter," said she, "I grieve that this trial should have come upon +you already. If one could have foreseen--" + +"But, madam, is it true? She meant _him_, I know. Tell me faithfully, +is it true?" + +"It is, my daughter." + +"What, all? Every one of those things?" + +"All true. Perhaps it is well that you should know it, that the +departed may have the benefit of your prayers. But how differently +would I have had you told!" + +"Never mind that! Whatever is true, I can and will bear. I will pray +for him, madam, day and night--as long as I live will I pray for him: +for he was to me--Oh, madam, how he loved me! I will make reparation +for him; the reparation that he would make if he could. I will find out +who were the poor creatures--I will make them happy for as long as they +live, for his sake. You will help me, madam?" + +"I will. It is a pious intention." + +"I owe him all that I can do. I ask one favour of you, madam. Let no +one speak to me about him--never again. No one can understand what he +was to me--what care he took of me--how he used to love me. Oh, madam, +is it quite certain--are you quite sure that those things are true?" + +"My child, do not give me the pain of explaining more. As you say, let +this never again be spoken of.--I propose to you, Euphrosyne, to make a +virtuous effort." + +"Not to come down this evening, madam?" + +"Yes, my child, to come down this evening. I think it of importance +that Madame Oge should not discover how she has wounded you, and that +nothing should occur to fix her attention on the descendant of one who +was active in procuring the death of her sons. Trust me, my dear, it is +worth an effort to prevent Madame Oge leaving this house your enemy." + +"I do not care for it, madam. Let her hate me. She is quite welcome." + +"You are thinking only of yourself, Euphrosyne. I am thinking also of +her. Consider how sore a heart she carries within her. Consider how +wretched her life has been made by the enmities in which she has lived. +Will you not save her one more? You have professed to pity her. Now +you can show if your pity is real, by saving her from a new enmity." + +"I am willing to do that: but how can I speak to her? How can we know +what things she may say?" + +"You shall not converse with her again. The table is spread. Go down +now, and take your place at the foot, beside sister Claire. When we +rise from table, I will dismiss you to your room as in course." + +"I wish that time was come," sighed Euphrosyne, as she languidly +arranged her hair. + +The abbess stroked her pale cheek, as she said that in an hour she would +be glad the effort was made. + +"You can spend the evening in writing to your friend," said she; "and if +you think proper to tell her that I know her secret, you may assure her +of my blessing and my prayers. They are due to one who loves my dear +charge as she does." + +Euphrosyne's cheeks were now no longer pale. + +"And may I tell her, madam, what Madame Oge has been declaring about +Bonaparte and his threats?" + +"It will be needless, my dear. If there be any truth in the matter, +Monsieur Pascal, doubtless, knows more than Madame Oge." + +"In that case there can be no harm in mentioning it." + +Still the abbess thought it would be safer to say nothing about it; and +Euphrosyne gave up the point for to-night, remembering that she could +perhaps send a private despatch afterwards by the hands of Pierre. + +During the meal, while the length of the table was between them, +Euphrosyne nearly escaped the notice of Madame Oge. When it was over, +and the sisters rose, while the guest and the abbess passed out to the +parlour, the abbess stopped at Euphrosyne, kissed her forehead, and +commended her to her studies. Madame Oge stopped too, and put in an +intercession that the young lady might be excused studying this evening, +and permitted to return to her pretty fancy-work in the parlour. The +colour rushed to Euphrosyne's temples--a sign of ardent hope of a +holiday in Madame Oge's eyes. She therefore thought the abbess +grievously strict when she replied that her charge would prefer spending +the evening in her own chamber. + +"As you please," said Madame Oge. "It was my wish to do the child a +kindness; and perhaps to have the pleasure myself of seeing a young face +for an hour or two--the rarest of all sights to me. I seldom go out; +and when I do, all the young and cheerful faces seem to have hidden +themselves." + +The abbess regulated her invitations for the evening by this speech. +Sisters Debora and Marie, one the youngest, and the other the merriest +of the family, were requested to bring their work-bags, and join the +party in the parlour. + +"Good evening, young lady," said Madame Oge to Euphrosyne, holding out +her hand. "I hoped to have procured you a little freedom, and to have +had _more_ conversation about your hero; but--" + +"If there are to be great changes in the colony," observed the +abbess--"it may yet be in your power, madam, to show kindness to my +charge." + +"If so, command me, my dear. But it is more likely that the changes to +come will have the opposite effect. Then pretty young white ladies may +have all their own way; while the storm will burst again on the heads of +the dark people." + +"If so, command me, madam," Euphrosyne exerted herself to say. The +abbess's smile made her eyes fill with tears, almost before she had +spoken. + +"Are your eyes wet for me, my dear?" said Madame Oge, with surprise. +"Let the storm burst upon me; for I am shattered and stricken already, +and nothing can hurt me. But I shall remember your offer. Meantime, +you may depend upon it, the news I told you is true--the times I warned +you of are coming." + +"What news? what warning?" eagerly asked the sisters of Euphrosyne, as +soon as the guest was out of hearing. + +"That there were hurricanes last November, and there will be more the +next," replied she, escaping to her chamber. Before she slept, she had +written all her news and all her thoughts to Afra, leaving it for +decision in the morning, whether she should send entire what she had +written. + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. + +THE HERALD ABROAD. + +Madame Oge's news was too true. Monsieur Pascal had held many an +anxious conversation with L'Ouverture on the subject, before Afra showed +him her little friend's letter. In a short time an additional fact +became known--that Bonaparte had re-established the slave-trade. His +enmity to the race of blacks was now open and declared. + +The first intimation which the colony at large had of what had happened, +was through the altered demeanour of their chief. From the first bright +day of the prolific, gorgeous summer, to that in which the season merged +in a fierce autumnal storm, L'Ouverture had been seen to be not less +calm and quiet than usual, but depressed and sad. Some ascribed his +gloom to the transaction at Cap, and the misery it must needs have +introduced into his home. Others, who saw how much the colony had +gained in confidence, and Toussaint's government in strength by that +act, looked for a different cause. Some reminded each other that, while +no man was more energetic in the hour of proof than their chief, his +spirits were wont to droop when others were elated. It seemed as if +some boding ghost whispered evil to him most peremptorily when the +harvests were ripest before his eyes, when the laugh and the song were +loudest in his ear, and when no one dreamed that the bright days of the +colony would ever more be overclouded. + +It was even so. When Toussaint saw that his race was in peace, it +filled him with grief that this peace was not likely to last. When he +saw what the true African soul was, when cleansed from blood and anger, +and permitted to grow in freedom and in harmony, it was torture to know +(as he did too well) that new injuries were preparing for it--that it +was certain to be again steeped in passion and slaughter, and all that +was savage in it excited afresh. This, even more than the death of +Moyse, cast gloom round his soul, during the last of the series of +bright and prosperous summers that were to pass under his eye. When +autumn came, it might have made him wonder, if he had had leisure to +consider himself, to find how his spirits rose, and his heart grew +light, exactly when dismay and dread began to overcloud every face about +him, but when he saw that suspense and struggle were coming to an end. +He perceived perplexity in the countenance of his friend Pascal, even in +the presence of his bride. He met sorrow in the mild eyes of Henri; he +heard that exultation in the voice of Jacques which always struck like +discord upon his ear. He observed that in the bearing of Madame +Dessalines which carried back his memory ten years into her past +history. He saw Aimee tremble at the approach of any one who might +bring news from France; and he heard Margot weeping at her prayers, as +she implored of Heaven the safe return of her sons. Yet all this caused +to his sympathising heart scarcely a pang; so clear was his path now, so +distinct was the issue to which his duty, and the fate of his race was +brought. + +"Here it ends then," said he, one day at the council-table, rising as +bespoke. "Here ends all possibility of compromise. For the blacks, it +is slavery or self-defence. It is so, Monsieur Pascal." + +"It is. The terms of the new peace are proclaimed." + +"And the fact substantiated that Bonaparte has declared that he will do +what he pleases with Saint Domingo." + +"Such were certainly his words." + +"Who is surprised?" inquired Dessalines. "I forewarned you of this, +long ago: and I said, at the same time, that, if we waited for +aggression, we might find it too late for defence." + +"Not a word of fear, Jacques. Our victory is as sure as the justice of +Heaven." + +"Perhaps so; but it would have been easier if you had not been training +your people, all these years, to love and cherish those whom they are +now going to resist." + +"I see and admit our difficulty, Jacques. But if I had governed as you +would have had me, we should have been in a worse. I should then have +been the chief of a race of savages, instead of soldiers and citizens. +If we had been extirpating the whites all this time, we should now have +been destroying each other, instead of preparing to go forth to a +righteous war." + +"True. Most true," declared Henri. "We may suffer for a time, and +fight with the more difficulty, from our habits of observance towards +those whom we must now oppose; but God will not allow the spirit of +forgiveness and love to be finally a snare." + +"Never," said Toussaint. "He has appointed fierce passions for a yoke, +and mild affections for freedom. Though Bonaparte betrays and +oppresses, the Gospel stands.--It is now time for proclaiming the war +throughout the colony." + +"I will prepare the proclamation this night," said Monsieur Pascal. + +"If you will, my friend," said Toussaint. "But I intend to be my own +proclamation. To-morrow morning I set forth for Saint Domingo, to visit +my brother in his city. I shall examine every fort, and call together +the militia, as I go. The trip would be more effective if I could have +my council about me." + +"I will go with you," said Henri. + +"And I," exclaimed Jacques. + +"And I?" said Raymond, inquiringly. + +"No, Raymond; stay at Port-au-Prince, to report my proceedings to the +legislature. And you, Monsieur Pascal, remain here to receive the +despatches which may arrive from France. My brethren-in-arms of the +council will be with me. When we have satisfied ourselves, we will let +you know whether or not those who would have loved and served France for +ever as a guardian angel, can cast her off when she becomes an incubus." + +It was a time of high excitement--that in which L'Ouverture, attended by +four of his generals, and a train of inferior officers, traversed the +island, to communicate or confirm the intelligence that an expedition +was believed to be setting sail from France, for the purpose of wresting +from the blacks the freedom which was theirs by the law of the land. +Toussaint found, not only that all hearts were ready for the assertion +of freedom, but that all eyes were so fixed upon him, all ears so open +to his lightest word, that there was every probability of his purposes +being fully understood and completely executed. At a word from him, the +inhabitants of Cap Francais and Port-au-Prince began to remove their +property into the fastnesses of the interior, and to prepare to burn +those towns at the moment of the French attempting to land. It was +useless to think of preventing a landing, so exposed was the greater +part of the coast. The more rational hope was so to distress the foe on +shore as to make them glad to go on board their ships again. Equally +satisfactory was the disposition of the interior. The municipal bodies +throughout the colony, previously brought under one system, now acted in +concert. Their means of communication had been improved, so that each +settlement was no longer like an encampment in the wilderness: on the +contrary, every order given by L'Ouverture seemed to have been echoed by +the mountain-tops around, so promptly was it transmitted, and so +continually did he find his commands anticipated. As he went, his four +generals parted off, to examine the forts on either hand, and to inspect +and animate the militia. Everywhere the same story was told, and +everywhere was it received with the same eagerness and docility. "The +French are coming to make slaves of us again; but there shall never more +be a slave in Saint Domingo. They are coming; but they are our +countrymen till they have struck the first blow. We will demand of them +an account of our brethren in Cayenne, in Guadaloupe, and in Martinique. +We will ask of them concerning our brethren on the coasts of Africa. +If, in return, they throw us chains and the whip, we shall know how to +answer. But not a blow must be struck till they have shown whether they +are brethren or foes. Our dark skin is no disgrace; but the first drop +of a brother's blood dyes us all in infamy. Let the infamy be theirs +who assault us. At this moment our first duty is to our white brethren +of this island; in this time of our high excitement, they are full of +grief; they are guiltless of this attack upon our liberty; they are as +willing as we to live and die under the rule of L'Ouverture: and under +the special protection of L'Ouverture, they shall, if they please, live +and die. Beware of imputing to them the sins of their colour; protect +them from your hearts--defend them with your lives. In the hour of +danger, as you invoke the blessing of Heaven, save first the Creole +whites, and next your wives and your children." + +Such were the exhortations spoken everywhere by Christophe, La Plume, +and Clerveaux. It could not be expected of Dessalines that he should +deliver the last clauses with perfect fidelity. The solemnity of the +hour had, however its tranquillising effect, even upon his ruling +passion. Even his heart, which usually turned to stone at the sight of +a white, was moved by the visible distress of the proprietors of that +race, who were, with scarcely an exception, in despair. In private, +they execrated the spirit and conduct of their former neighbours, now in +Paris, whose representations were the chief cause of the expedition now +projected. Instead of remaining or returning, to ascertain the real +state of things in Saint Domingo--instead of respecting the interests +and wishes of those who were entirely satisfied under the government of +L'Ouverture, they had prejudiced the mind of the First Consul, and +induced him to bring back the ruin and woe which had passed away. The +ladies wept and trembled within their houses; their fathers, husbands, +and brothers flocked to every point where L'Ouverture halted, to assure +him of their good-will to his government, and to remind him of the +difficulty and danger of the position in which they were placed. These +last carried some comfort home with them. All who had seen Toussaint's +face had met there the gaze of a brother. If there were two or three +who went with doubtful minds, prepared to exult at the depression of the +blacks, but thinking it well to bespeak protection, in case of the +struggle ending the wrong way--if there was a sprinkling of such among +the throng of whites who joined the cavalcade from the cross-roads, they +shrunk away abashed before the open countenance of the Deliverer, and +stole homewards to wait the guidance of events. + +If it had not been that the city of Saint Domingo was at the end of this +march, Toussaint would have traversed the colony with a higher spirit +and a lighter heart than during any of his serener days of power; but +the city of his brother's government was before him, and, at its gate, +Paul, whom he had not met since the death of Moyse. He had not been +forgetful of his sorrowing brother; he had immediately sent to him +Father Laxabon--the best consoler, as the last confidant of the +departed. Letter upon letter had Toussaint sent--deed upon deed of +kindness had he attempted towards his brother; but still Father Laxabon +had written, "Come not yet;" "He must have time;" "Give him time if +there is to be peace between you." Now it had become necessary that +they should meet; and far readier was Toussaint to encounter the armies +of France than the countenance of his brother. For ever, in the midst +of the excitements of the journey, he found himself asking in his own +mind where and how Paul would meet him; and whether he had cut off from +himself his brother, as well as his brother's son. + +Meantime, the party rode proudly on, through the interior of the island, +signs of welcome spreading around them at every step. From the +grass-farms, in the wide savannahs, the herdsmen hastened, with promises +to drive their flocks up into the mornes, where no enemy should +penetrate while a man remained to guard the passes. At each salute from +the forts that rose at intervals along the way, the wild cattle rushed +towards the steeps; while the parties of hunters turned back from their +sports, to offer themselves as scouts and messengers on behalf of the +colony. From some glade of the woods appeared the monk, charged with +the blessing of his convent; or the grazier, with a string of horses-- +his gift, for the service of the army. Around the crosses which, half +concealed by the long grass of the plains, yet served to mark the road, +were gathered groups of women, bearing bags of money, or ornaments of +gold and silver, which they would have thrust upon him, to whom they +declared that they owed their all; while every settlement displayed its +company of armed men, standing in military order, and rending the air +with shouts, on the approach of their chief. La Plume and Clerveaux, to +whom such demonstrations were less familiar than to the other generals, +no longer doubted that all would be well. They pronounced that the +colony already showed itself invincible. Toussaint thought that he +might have been of the same opinion, if the expected foe had been any +other than French. The event must show whether the pains he had taken +to unite his race with their fellow-citizens as brethren would now +weaken or strengthen his cause--whether it would enhance or mitigate the +bitterness of the impending quarrel. + +On the morning of the last day of their survey of the interior, the +party emerged from the shade of the woods, and, crossing the grassy +levels of the Llanos, reached the ferry by which the Ozama was to be +crossed near its mouth. On the opposite bank were horsemen, who, on +observing the party approaching the ferry, put spurs to their horses, +and galloped southwards, in the direction of the city. They need not so +have hastened; for the Deliverer was stopped at every fishing hamlet-- +almost at every hut along the shores of the bay, to receive the loyal +homage of the inhabitants--Spanish as well as French. In the midst of +these greetings the eye and the soul of the chief were absent--looking +to what lay before him. There, at some distance, springing from the +level of the plain, rose the cathedral of Saint Domingo, and other lofty +buildings, whose outline was distinctly marked against the glittering +sea which spread immediately behind. An ungovernable impatience seized +him at length, and he broke away, bursting through the throngs upon the +road, and resolving not to stop till he should have seen his fate, as a +brother, in his brother's eyes. + +A procession of priests was issuing from the city gates as he +approached. They were robed, and they bore the Host under a canopy. At +the first sound of their chant, the generals and their suite threw +themselves from their horses, and prostrated themselves upon the grass. +On rising, they perceived that the whole city had come out to meet them. +"The whole city," Toussaint heard his companions say: and his heart +throbbed when he strained his sight to see if the Governor of the city +was the only one left at home. The procession of priests had now +turned, and was preceding him--slowly--so slowly, that he would fain +have dispensed with the solemnity. The people crowded round his horse +and impeded his way. He strove to be present to the occasion; but all +was like a troubled dream--the chanting, the acclamation, the bursts of +military music from a distance--all that at other times had fired his +soul was now disturbance and perplexity. A few faithless persons in the +crowd, on the watch for information with which they might make interest +with the French on their arrival, noted the wandering of the eye and the +knitting of the brow, and drew thence a portent of the fall of the +Deliverer. + +At length the gate was reached; and there, in the shadow of the portal, +surrounded by his attendants, stood Paul. On the arrival of his brother +at the threshold, he took from an officer the velvet cushion on which +the keys of the city were deposited, and advancing to the stirrup of the +Commander-in-chief, offered them, according to custom. For an instant, +Toussaint gazed on the aged, worn, melancholy countenance beside him, +and then stooped from his horse, to fling his arms round the neck of his +brother, breathing into his ear, "If _you_ are in your duty at such a +time as this, who else dare fail me? I thank God! I thank God! We +cannot fail." + +Paul withdrew himself, without speaking. His action was sullen. He led +the way, however, towards the Governor's house, evidently expecting to +be followed. Not another word passed between them on the way. Through +one wide street after another L'Ouverture was led; and from the +balconies of whole ranges of fine houses, from the roof of many a +church, and the porch of many a convent, was he hailed, before he could +catch another glimpse of the countenance of the brother who preceded +him. At the gate of the Governor's house there was a pause; and way was +made for the chief to pass in first. He did so; and the next moment +turned round in the vestibule, to speak to Paul; but Paul had +disappeared. Glancing round, Toussaint saw Father Laxabon awaiting him +at the foot of the staircase. Each advanced to the other. + +"Father, he is wretched," whispered Toussaint. "Bring me to him." + +"Follow me," said the priest; and, instead of mounting the marble +staircase, L'Ouverture and the father were seen to enter a passage, into +which every one else was forbidden to follow. Father Laxabon tapped +softly at a door, and was desired to enter. He opened it, and closed it +behind Toussaint, keeping watch outside, that the brothers might not be +disturbed. + +Paul started to his feet from the conch on which he had thrown himself. +He stood waiting. Now was the decisive moment; and Toussaint knew it +was. Yet he stood speechless. + +"I left my son in your charge," said Paul, at length. + +"You did: and I--" + +"And you murdered him." + +"No, Paul! I executed justice upon him. Hear me, brother, once for +all. I am heart-broken for you as a brother: but as a magistrate, I +will admit no censure. As his father in your stead, I was, as the event +has proved, too ambitious for him: but, as a ruler, I did but my duty." + +"Yes! You have been ambitious! You have chosen your duty!" + +"My ambition was for him, Paul. As for my duty--remember that I have +too a child whom, by that act, I doomed to worse than death." + +"You see what liberty has brought to us. Look at the family of +Ouverture--consider what has befallen since your struggle for liberty +began; and then, perhaps, you will give over struggling. Welcome the +French--go back to Breda--send me home to my hut on the shore, that I +may die in such peace as is left to a childless man. Why do you not +answer me, Toussaint? Why will you not give us a last chance of peace? +I must obey you at the city gate; but I will importune you here. Why +will you not do as I say?" + +"Because I know that some--and the Ouvertures among them--were not born +to live at ease--to pass their days in peace. I feel that some--and the +Ouvertures among them--are born to suffer--to struggle and to die for +their race. If you would know why, ask their Creator. I myself would +fain know why. Meantime, the will of God is so clear, that I have +devoted, not myself only, but my children. My sons, you know--" + +"And not your children only, but your brother and his child." + +"No. Moyse cast himself away. And, as for you, your hut still stands, +as you say. Go to it, if you will; or make friends with the French, if +you desire to be a slave again. You have suffered too much by me for me +to ask you ever to serve me more. I shall never desire you to dedicate +yourself anew to pain, in this crisis. Go and seek for ease. I shall +incessantly pray that you may find it." + +"I shall not seek what is not to be found, Toussaint. I have never +dared wretchedness as you have: but since I am and must be wretched, I +will be an Ouverture. Your eye and your voice make me an Ouverture +again, even yet. Give me your commands." + +"Read this proclamation, with the eye of an Ouverture. Well! Do you +like it? How do you understand it?" + +"You declare your allegiance to France, declaring, at the same time, its +limits, and appealing to your soldiers, in the event of aggression. It +is plain from this that you mean to defend yourself, and anticipate +war." + +"It is well. That is what I intend to convey. You will publish this +proclamation, in your city and district, under the date of this 18th of +December, 1801. You will then concert with General Clerveaux the +measures for the defence of this city, and report your decisions to me, +on my return from Cap Samana. Shall it be so, brother?" + +"Be it so." + +"And we are friends?" + +"We are fellow-citizens--we are Ouvertures--and therefore faithful. I +shall not betray you." + +"That is all I can ask, I know. We are old men, Paul. Fidelity for a +while! Beyond the grave, perhaps more." + +"You are going already?" + +"To Cap Samana; and alone. Farewell!" + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. + +ALL EYE. + +Day by day, in the internals of his occupation about the defence of the +colony, did Toussaint repair to Cap Samana, to look eastwards over the +sea. Day by day was he more sure, from the information that reached +him, that the French could not be far-off. At length, he desired that +his generals should be within call from Cotuy, a small town which stood +on the banks of the Cotuy, near the western base of the mountainous +promontory of Samana--promontory at low water, island at high tide. + +All was yet dark on the eastern point of this mountain, on the morning +of the 28th of December, when two watchmen, who had passed the night +under the ferns in a cleft of the steep, came out to look abroad. On +their mountain all was yet dark, for the stars overhead, though still +rolling clear and golden--visible orbs in the empty depths of the sky-- +were so far dimmed by the dawn in the east as no longer to send down +their shafts of light upon the earth. The point on which these watchmen +stood was so high, that between them and the horizon the sea lay like +half a world--an immeasurable expanse, spreading as if from a vast depth +below up into the very sky. Dim and soundless lay the mass of waters-- +breaking, no doubt, as for ages past, against the rocky precipice below; +but not so as to be heard upon the steep. If might have appeared dead, +but that a ray from some quarter of the heaven, capriciously touching +its surface, showed that it was heaving as was its wont. Eastwards, at +the point of junction of sea and sky, a dusky yellow light shone through +the haze of morning, as behind a curtain, and told that the sun was on +his way. As their eyes became accustomed to the dim light (which was +darkness compared to that which had visited their dreams among the +ferns), the watchmen alternately swept the expanse with their glass, and +pronounced that there was not a sail in sight. + +"I believe, however, that this will be our day; the wind is fair for the +fleet," said Toussaint to Henri. "Go and bathe while I watch." + +"We have said for a week past that each would be the day," replied +Henri. "If it be to-day, however, they can hardly have a fairer for the +first sight of the paradise which poets and ladies praise at the French +court. It promises to be the loveliest day of the year. I shall be +here again before the sun has risen." + +And Christophe retired to bathe in the waterfall which made itself heard +from behind the ferns, and was hidden by them; springing, as they did, +to a height of twenty feet and upwards. To the murmur and gush of this +waterfall the friends had slept. An inhabitant of the tropics is so +accustomed to sound, that he cannot sleep in the midst of silence: and +on these heights there would have been everlasting silence but for the +voice of waters, and the thunders and their echoes in the season of +storms. + +When both had refreshed themselves, they took their seat on some broken +ground on the verge of the precipice, sometimes indulging their full +minds with silence, but continually looking abroad over the now +brightening sea. It was becoming of a deeper blue as the sky grew +lighter, except at that point of the east where earth and heaven seemed +to be kindling with a mighty fire. There the haze was glowing with +purple and crimson; and there was Henri intently watching for the first +golden spark of the sun, when Toussaint touched his shoulder, and +pointed to the northwards. Shading his eyes with his hand, Christophe +strove to penetrate the grey mists which had gathered there. + +"What is it?" said he--"a sail? Yes: there is one--three--four!" + +"There are seven," said Toussaint. + +Long did he gaze through the glass at these seven sail; and then he +reported an eighth. At this moment his arm was grasped. + +"See! see!" cried Christophe, who was looking southwards. + +From behind the distant south-eastern promontory Del Euganno, now +appeared, sail after sail, to the number of twenty. + +"All French," observed Christophe. "Lend me the glass." + +"All French," replied his friend. "They are, no doubt, coming to +rendezvous at this point." + +While Henri explored those which were nearest, Toussaint leaned on his +folded arms against the bank of broken ground before him, straining his +eyes over the now-peopled sea. + +"More! More!" he exclaimed, as the sun appeared, and the new gush of +light showed sail upon sail, as small specks upon the horizon line. He +snatched the glass; and neither he nor Henri spoke for long. + +The east wind served the purposes of the vast fleet, whose three +detachments, once within each other's view, rapidly converged, showing +that it was indeed their object to rendezvous at Cap Samana. Silent, +swift, and most fair (as is the wont of evil) was this form of +destruction in its approach. + +Not a word was spoken as the great ships-of-the-line bore majestically +up towards their point, while the lighter vessels skimmed the sea, as in +sport, and made haste in, as if racing with one another, or anxious to +be in waiting, to welcome their superiors. Nearer and nearer they +closed in, till the waters seemed to be covered with the foe. When +Toussaint was assured that he had seen them all--when he had again and +again silently counted over the fifty-four ships-of-war--he turned to +his friend with a countenance of anguish, such as even that friend of +many years had never seen. + +"Henri," said he, "we must all perish. All France has come to Saint +Domingo!" + +"Then we will perish," replied Henri. + +"Undoubtedly: it is not much to perish, if that were all. But the world +will be the worse for ever. Trance is deceived. She comes, in an +error, to avenge herself, and to enslave the blacks. Trance has been +deceived." + +"If we were but all together," said Henri, "so that there were no +moments of weakness to fear.--If your sons were but with us--" + +"Fear no moments of weakness from me," said Toussaint, its wonted fire +now glowing in his eye. "My colour imposes on me duties above nature; +and while my boys are hostages, they shall be to me as if they no longer +existed." + +"They may possibly be on board the fleet," said Christophe. "If by +caution we could obtain possession of them--" + +"Speak no more of them now," said Toussaint.--Presently, as if thinking +aloud, and with his eyes still bent on the moving ships, he went on: + +"No, those on board those ships are not boys, with life before them, and +eager alike for arts and arms. I see who they are that are there. +There are the troops of the Rhine--troops that have conquered a fairer +river than our Artibonite, storming the castles on her steeps, and +crowning themselves from her vineyards. There are the troops of the +Alps--troops that have soared above the eagle, and stormed the clouds, +and plucked the ice-king by the beard upon his throne. There are the +troops of Italy--troops that have trodden the old Roman ways, and fought +over again the old Roman wars--that have drunk of the Tiber, and once +more conquered the armies of the Danube. There are the troops of +Egypt--troops that have heard the war-cry of the desert tribes, and +encamped in the shadow of the pyramids." + +"Yet he is not afraid," said Henri to himself, as he watched the +countenance of his friend. + +"All these," continued Toussaint, "all these are brought hither against +a poor, depressed, insulted, ignorant race--brought as conquerors, eager +for the spoil before a blow is struck. They come to disembarrass our +paradise of us, as they would clear a fragrant and fruitful wood of apes +and reptiles. And if they find that it takes longer than they suppose +to crush and disperse us, France has more thousands ready to come and +help. The labourer will leave his plough at a word, and the +vine-dresser his harvest, and the artisan his shop--France will pour out +the youth of all her villages, to seize upon the delights of the +tropics, and the wealth of the savages, as they are represented by the +emigrants who will not take me for a friend, but eat their own hearts +far away, with hatred and jealousy. All France is coming to Saint +Domingo!" + +"But--" interposed Christophe. + +"But, Henri," interrupted his friend, laying his hand on his shoulder, +"not all France, with her troops of the Rhine, of the Alps, of the Nile, +nor with all Europe to help her, can extinguish the soul of Africa. +That soul, when once the soul of a man, and no longer that of a slave, +can overthrow the pyramids and the Alps themselves, sooner than be again +crushed down into slavery." + +"With God's help," said Christophe, crossing himself. + +"With God's help," repeated Toussaint. "See here," he continued, taking +up a handful of earth from the broken ground on which they stood, "see +here what God has done! See, here are shells from the depth of yonder +ocean, lying on the mountain-top. Cannot He who thus uprears the dust +of His ocean floor, and lifts it above the clouds, create the societies +of men anew, and set their lowest order but a little below the stars?" + +"He can," said Christophe, again crossing himself. + +"Then let all France come to Saint Domingo! She may yet be undeceived-- +What now?" he resumed, after a pause of observation. "What manoeuvre is +this?" + +The ships, almost before they had drawn together, parted off again; +nearly two-thirds retiring to the north, and the rest southwards. + +"They are doing as we supposed they would," said Christophe; "preparing +to attack Cap Francais and our southern or western towns at once; +perhaps both Saint Domingo and Port-au-Prince." + +"Be it so; we are ready for them," replied Toussaint. "But now there is +no time to lose. To Cotuy, to give our orders, and then all to our +posts!" + +Once more he took a survey of the vast fleet, in its two divisions, and +then spread his arms in the direction of his chief cities, promising the +foe to be ready to meet them there. In another moment he was striding +down the mountain. + +His generals were awaiting him at Cotuy, and the horses of the whole +party were saddled. + +"The French are come?" they asked. + +"The French are come in great force. Fifty-four ships-of-war, carrying +probably ten or twelve thousand men." + +"We have twenty thousand regular troops," cried Dessalines. "The day of +the proud French has arrived!" + +L'Ouverture's calm eye checked his exultation. + +"Ten or twelve thousand of the elite of the armies of France," said +Toussaint, "are sailing along our shores; and large reinforcements may +be following. Our twenty thousand troops are untried in the field +against a European foe; but our cause is good. Let us be bold, my +friends; but the leaders of armies must not be presumptuous." + +All uncovered their heads, and waited only his dismissal. + +"General Christophe, Cap Francais and its district are waiting for you. +Let the flames of the city give us notice when the French land." + +Christophe embraced his friend, and was gone. + +"General Dessalines, to your command in the west! Preserve your line of +messengers from Leogane to my gate at Pongaudin, and let me not want for +tidings." + +The tramp of Dessalines' horse next died away. + +"General La Plume, it is probable that your eye will have to be busier +than your hands. You will be ever ready for battle, of course; but +remember that I rely on you for every point of the south-west coast +being watched, from Leogane round to Aux Cayes. Send your +communications through Dessalines' line of scouts." + +La Plume withdrew, and Toussaint gazed after him in reverie, till he was +out of sight. + +"And I?" said Clerveaux, the only general officer now left in +attendance. + +"Your pardon, General Clerveaux. This your department in the east is +likely at present to remain tranquil, as I forewarned you. I now +forewarn you that it may hereafter become the seat of war, when you will +have your day. Meantime, I may at any time call upon your reserve; and +you will take care that the enemy shall find no solace in your +department, if they should visit it. Let it be bare as the desert +before them. Farewell; I leave you in command of the east." + +Clerveaux made his obeisance with an alacrity which caused Toussaint to +say to himself, as he mounted-- + +"Is he glad that the hour is come, or that his post is in the rear of +the battle?" + +Toussaint's own road lay homewards, where he had assembled the choicest +troops, to be ready for action on any point where they might first be +wanted, and where the great body of the cultivators, by whom his +personal influence was most needed, were collected under his eye. As he +now sped like the lightning through the shortest tracks, his trompettes +proclaiming the invasion through all the valleys, and over all the +plains as they went, he felt strong and buoyant in heart, like the eagle +overhead, which was scared from its eyrie in Cibao by the proclamation +of war. For ever, as he rode, the thought recurred to fire his soul, +"He is my rival now, and no longer my chief. I am free. It is his own +act, but Bonaparte has me for a rival now." + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. + +MANY GUESTS. + +For some weeks after the appearance of the fleet upon the coast, nothing +took place which could be called war. Toussaint was resolved not to be +the aggressor. Prepared at all points, he waited till those whom he +still regarded as his fellow-citizens should strike the first blow. He +was the more willing to leave an opening for peace till the last, that +he heard that ladies were on board--ladies from the court of France, +come to enjoy the delights of this tropical paradise. The sister of +Bonaparte, Madame Leclerc, the wife of the commander of the expedition, +was there. It seemed scarcely conceivable that she and her train of +ladies could have come with any expectation of witnessing such a warfare +as, ten years before, had shown how much more savage than the beasts of +the forest men may be. It was as little conceivable that they could +expect the negroes to enter into slavery again at a word, after having +enjoyed freedom, and held rule for ten years. There must still be hope +of peace; and Toussaint spared no effort to preserve it, till the +strangers should declare their intentions by some unequivocal act. + +For this object, L'Ouverture appeared gifted with ubiquity. No flying +Arab was ever in so many places so nearly at once. Pongaudin, like +every other estate which was in friendly hands, was a sort of camp. +Here the Commander-in-chief and his officers had their head-quarters; +and here he was to be found, at intervals of a few hours. During those +intervals, he was inspecting the fortifications of Saint Marc, one of +the strongest places of the island, and under the charge of Dessalines; +or he was overlooking the bight of Leogane, from behind Port-au-Prince; +or he was visiting L'Etoile, made a strong post, and held by Charles +Bellair and his wife (for Deesha would not leave her husband);--or he +was riding through the mornes to the north, re-animating, with the sight +of his beloved countenance, the companies there held in reserve. He was +on the heights of the Gros Morne, an admiring spectator, on occasion of +that act of Christophe which was the real cause of the delay and +indecision of Leclerc and his troops. + +The main body of the French army was preparing to land, immediately on +its arrival at Cap Francais, when Christophe sent his friend and brother +officer, Sangos, on board the fleet, to acquaint Leclerc with the +absence of the Commander-in-chief of the colony, without whose +permission the landing of troops could not be allowed. If a landing by +force were attempted, the city would immediately be fired, and the +inhabitants withdrawn. General Leclerc could not believe this to be +more than an empty threat; but thought it as well to avoid risk, by +landing in the night at points where he was not looked for. +Accordingly, he sent some of his force on shore at Fort Dauphin, to the +east; while he himself, with a body of troops, set foot on the fatal +coast which he was never to leave, at Le Limbe, on the western side of +the ridge which commanded the town, hoping to drop into the military +quarter from the heights, before he was looked for. From these heights, +however, he beheld the town one mass of fire. Christophe had withdrawn +the inhabitants, including two thousand whites, who were to be held as +hostages in the interior; and so orderly and well-planned had been his +proceedings, that not the slightest personal injury was sustained by any +individual. Of this conflagration, Toussaint had been a witness from +the heights of Gros Morne. The horror which it occasioned was for the +strangers alone. All the movable property of the citizens was safe in +the interior: and they were all safe in person. The dismay was for the +French, when they found only a burning soil, tumbling roofs, and +tottering walls, where they had expected repose and feasting after the +ennui of a voyage across the Atlantic. For the court ladies, there +existed at present only the alternative of remaining on board the ships, +of which they were heartily weary, and establishing themselves on the +barren island of Tortuga, the home of the buccaneers of former days. +They shortly after took possession of Tortuga, which they found to be a +tropical region indeed, but no paradise. It was not the best season for +turtle; and there was no other of the luxuries whose savour had reached +the nostrils of the court of France. + +Among the two thousand whites removed from Cap were, of course, the +ladies of the convent. They were safely established under shelter of +the fortifications of Saint Marc, with all their little comforts about +them, and their mocking-bird as tuneful as when hanging in its own +orange-tree. Euphrosyne was not with them--nor yet with her guardian. +Monsieur Critois had enough to do to protect himself and his lady; and +he earnestly desired his ward to be thankful that she had friends among +the ruling powers. Euphrosyne needed no commands on this head. She +joined Madame Pascal, and was now with her and the secretary in the +half-camp, half-household of Pongaudin. + +Besides the family and establishment of the Commander-in-chief, as many +of the white gentry of Cap were accommodated as the country palace of +Pongaudin would contain. It seemed doubtful how long they would have to +find amusement for themselves there; for the invaders seemed to have +fallen asleep. A month had passed since the burning of Cap, and not +another step had been taken. Expectation had begun to be weary. The +feverish watching for news had begun to relax; the ladies no longer +shuddered at the bare idea of walking in the shrubberies; and some of +the younger damsels had begun to heed warnings from L'Ouverture himself +not to go out of bounds--by no means to pass the line of sentinels in +any direction. Instead of everything French being spoken of with a +faltering voice, any one was now welcome who might be able to tell, even +at second or third hand, that Madame Leclerc had been seen, and what she +wore, and how she looked, and what she had said, either about the colony +or anything else. The officers, both civil and military, found +themselves able to devote their powers of entertainment more and move to +the ladies; and the liability to be called off in the midst of the game +of chess, the poem, the song, or the dance, seemed only to make their +attentions more precious, because more precarious, than those of the +guests who knew themselves to be hostages, and who had abundance of time +for gallantry, if only they had had spirits and inclination. Most of +the party certainly found the present position of affairs very dull. +The exceptions were few. They were poor Genifrede, whose mind was +wholly in the past, and before whose eyes the present went forward as a +dim dream; her mother and sister, whose faculties were continually on +the stretch to keep up, under such circumstances, the hospitalities for +which they were pledged to so large a household; the secretary and his +bride, who were engrossed at once with the crisis in public affairs and +in their own; and Euphrosyne, who could find nothing dull after the +convent, and who unconsciously wished that, if this were invasion and +war, they might last a good while yet. + +One evening, the 8th of February, was somewhat remarkable for +L'Ouverture being not only at home, but at leisure. He was playing +billiards with his officers and guests. It followed of course that +General Vincent was also present. It followed of course; for whether it +was that Toussaint felt the peculiar interest in him which report made +observers look for towards an intended son-in-law, or whether the chief +distrusted him on account of his fondness for Paris and the First +Consul, Vincent was for ever kept under the eye, and by the side of his +General. Aimee was wont to sigh when she heard her father's horse +ordered; for she know that Vincent was going too; and she now rejoiced +to see her father at the billiard-table; for it told her that Vincent +was her own for the evening. + +Vincent was not slow in putting in his claim. At the first moment, when +they were unobserved, he drew her to the window, where the evening +breeze blew in, fragrant and cool; then into the piazza; then across the +lawn; then down to the gate which opened upon the beach. He would have +gone further; but there Aimee stopped, reminding him of the general +order against breaking bounds. + +"That is all very well for the whites; and for us, when the whites have +their eyes upon us," said Vincent. "But we are not prisoners; and there +is not a prisoner abroad to-night. Come--only as far as the mangroves! +We shall not be missed: and if we should be, we can be within the gate +in two minutes." + +"I dare not," said Aimee, with a longing look, however, at the pearly +sands, and the creaming waves that now overspread them, now lapsed in +the gleam of the moon. The dark shadow of the mangroves lay but a +little way on. It was true that two minutes would reach them; but she +still said, "I dare not." + +"Who is there?" cried the sentinel, in his march past the gate. + +"No strangers, Claude. Any news on your watch?" + +"None, Mademoiselle." + +"All quiet over towards Saint Marc?" inquired Vincent. + +"All quiet there, General; and everywhere else when the last reports +came round, ten minutes ago." + +"Very well: pass on, good Claude. Come, come!" he said to Aimee; "who +knows when we may have a moonlight hour again!" + +He would not bide another refusal, but, by gentle violence, drew her out +upon the beach, telling the sentinel, as they passed between him and the +water, that if they were inquired for, he might call: they should be +within hearing. Claude touched his cap, showed his white teeth in a +broad smile, and did not object. + +Once among the mangroves, Aimee could not repent. Their arched +branches, descending into the water, trembled with every wave that +gushed in among them, and stirred the mild air. The moonlight quivered +on their dark green leaves, and on the transparent pool which lay among +their roots. + +"Now, would you not have been sorry if I had not made you come?" said +Vincent. + +"If we could only stay--stay here for ever!" she exclaimed, leaning back +against the bush under which they sat. "Here, amidst the whispering of +the winds and the dash of the waters, you would listen no more for the +roll of the drum, or the booming of cannon at Saint Marc. I am weary of +our life at Pongaudin." + +"Weary of rumour of wars, before we have the wars themselves, love." + +"We can never hear anything of my brothers while we are on these terms +with France. Day after day comes on--day after day, and we have to +toil, and plan, and be anxious; and our guests grow tired, and nothing +is done; and we know that we can hear nothing of what we most want to +learn. I am certain that my mother spends her nights in tears for her +boys; and nothing is so likely to rouse poor Genifrede as the prospect +of their coming back to us." + +"And you yourself, Aimee, cannot be happy without Isaac." + +"I never tried," said she. "I have daily felt his loss, because I +wished never to cease to feel it." + +"He is happier than you, dearest Aimee." + +"Do not tell me that men feel such separations less than women; for I +know it well already. I can never have been so necessary to him as he +is to me; I know that well." + +"Say `was,' my Aimee. The time comes when sisters find their brothers +less necessary to them than they have been." + +"Such a time has never come to me, and I believe it never will. No one +can ever be to me what Isaac has been." + +"`Has been;'--true. But see how times have changed! Isaac has left off +writing to you so frequently as he did--" + +"No, no. He never did write frequently; it was never his habit to write +as I wrote to him." + +"Well, well. Whatever expectation may lie at the bottom of this little +heart, whatever secret remonstrance for his silence, whatever +dissatisfaction with his apologies, whatever mortification that such +apologies were necessary--" + +"How dare you--What right have you to pry into my heart?" exclaimed +Aimee, withdrawing herself from her companion's side. + +"The right of love," he replied, following till both were seated on the +very verge of the water. "Can you suppose that I do not see your +disappointment when L'Ouverture opens his dispatches, and there is not +one of that particular size and fold which makes your countenance change +when you see it? Can you suppose that I do not mark your happiness, for +hours and days, after one of those closely-written sheets has come?-- +happiness which makes me feel of no account to you--happiness which +makes me jealous of my very brother--for my brother he is, as he is +yours." + +"It should not do that," replied Aimee, as she sat looking into the +water. "You should not be _angry_ at my being happy. If you have +learned so much of my thoughts--" + +"Say on! Oh, say on!" + +"There is no need," said she, "if you can read the soul without speech, +as you seem to profess." + +"I read no thoughts but yours; and none of yours that relate to myself. +I see at a glance every stir of your love to all besides. If you care +for me, I need to hear it from yourself." + +"If this quarrel comes to bloodshed, what will become of my brothers? +If you love me, tell me that." + +"Still these brothers!" cried Vincent, impatiently. + +"And who should be inquired of concerning them, if not you? You took +them to France; you left them there--" + +"I was sent here by Bonaparte--put on the deputation by his express +command. If not, I should not now have been here--I should have +remembered you only as a child, and--" + +"But Placide and Isaac! Suppose Leclerc and Rochambeau both killed-- +suppose Madame Leclerc entering once more into her brother's presence, a +mourning widow--what would Bonaparte do with Placide and Isaac? I am +sure you have no comfort to give me, or you would not so evade what I +ask." + +"I declare, I protest you are mistaken. Bonaparte is everything that is +noble, and gracious, and gentle." + +"You are sure of that?" + +"Nay, why not? Have I not always said so? and you have delighted to +hear me say so." + +"I should delight to believe it now. I will believe it; but yet, if he +were really noble, how should this quarrel have arisen? For, if ever +man was noble, and gracious, and gentle, my father is. If two such men +come to open defiance, whose is the crime, and wherein does it lie?" + +"If the world fall to pieces, Aimee, there can be no doubt of +Bonaparte's greatness. What majesty he carries with him, through all +his conquests! How whole nations quail under his magnificent +proclamations!" + +"Are they really fine? I have seen but few; and they--" + +"Are they not all grand? That proclamation in Egypt, for instance, in +which he said he was the Man of Fate who had been foretold in the Koran, +and that all resistance was impious and vain! If it had not happened +four years before Bonaparte went to Egypt, I should have thought your +father--" + +"I was just thinking of that. But there is a great difference. It was +not my father, but Laveaux, who said that the black chief, predicted by +Raynal, had appeared. And it was originally said, not as a divine +prophecy, but because, in the natural course of things, the redeemer of +an oppressed race must arise. Besides, my father says nothing but what +he believes; and I suppose Bonaparte did not believe what he was +saying." + +"Do you think not? For my part, I believe his very words--that to +oppose him is impious and vain." + +"Heaven pity us, if that be true! Was it not in that proclamation that +Bonaparte said that men must account to him for their secret thoughts, +as nothing was concealed from him?" + +"Yes; just as L'Ouverture told the mulattoes in the church at Cap that, +from the other side of the island, his eye would be upon them, and his +arm stretched out, to restrain or punish. He almost reached Bonaparte's +strain there." + +"I like my father's words the best, because all understood and believed +what he said. Bonaparte may claim to read secret thoughts; but before +my father, men have no secret thoughts--they love him so that their +minds stand open." + +"Then those Italian proclamations, and letters to the Directory," said +Vincent; "how they grew grander, as city after city, and state after +state, fell before him! When he summoned Pavia to open her gates to +him, after her insurrection, how imperious he was! If he had found that +a drop of French blood had been shed, he declared not a stone of the +city should have remained; but a column should arise in its place, +bearing the inscription, `Here once stood Pavia!' There spoke the man +who held the ages in his hand, ready to roll them over the civilised +world--to crumble cities, and overthrow nations, in case of resistance +to his will! How Paris rang with acclamations when these words passed +from mouth to mouth! He was worshipped as a god." + +"It is said," sighed Aimee, "that Leclerc has proclamations from him for +our people. I wonder what they are, and how they will be received." + +"With enthusiasm, no doubt. When and where has it been otherwise? You +shudder, my Aimee; but, trust me, there is inconceivable folly in the +idea of opposing Bonaparte. As he said in Egypt, it is impious and +vain. Trust me, love, and decide accordingly." + +"Desert my father and my family in their hour of peril! I will not do +that." + +"There is no peril in the case, love; it is glory and happiness to live +under Bonaparte. My life upon it, he will do your father no injury, but +continue him in his command, under certain arrangements; and, as for the +blacks, they and the whites will join in one common enthusiasm for the +conqueror of Europe. Let us be among the first, my Aimee! Be mine; and +we will go to the French forces--among my friends there. It is as if we +were called to be mediators; it is as if the welfare of your family and +the colony were, in a measure, consigned to our hands. Once married, +and with Leclerc, how easily may we explain away causes of quarrel! How +completely shall we make him understand L'Ouverture! And how, through +us, Leclerc can put your father in possession of the views of Bonaparte: +Oh, Aimee, be mine, and let us go!" + +"And if it were otherwise--if it came to bloodshed--to deadly warfare?" + +"Then, love, you would least of all repent. Alone and desolate--parted +from your brothers--parted from me." + +"From you, Vincent?" + +"Assuredly. I can never unsheath my sword against those to whom my +attachment is strong. I can never fight against an army from Paris-- +troops that have been led by Bonaparte." + +"Does my father know that?" + +"He cannot know me if he anticipates anything else. I execute his +orders at present, because I admire his system of government, and am +anxious that it should appear to the best advantage to the +brother-in-law of the First Consul. Thus, I am confident that there +will be no war. But, love, if there should be, you will be parted for +ever from your brothers and from me, by remaining here--you will never +again see Isaac. Nay, nay! No tears! no terrors, my Aimee! By being +mine, and going with me to that place where all are happy--to Paris--you +will, through my interest, best aid your father; and Isaac and I will +watch over you for ever." + +"Not a word more, Vincent! You make me wretched. Not a word more, till +I have spoken to my father. He must, he will tell me what he thinks, +what he expects--whether he fears. Hark! There are horsemen!" + +"Can it be? Horsemen approaching on this side? I will look out." + +"No, no! Vincent, you shall not go--" + +Her terror was so great that Vincent could not indeed leave her. As the +tramp of a company of horsemen became almost lost on quitting the hard +road for the deep sand, he dropped his voice, whispering in her ear that +she was quite safe, completely hidden under the mangroves, and that he +would not leave her. She clasped his hand with both hers, to compel him +to keep his word, and implored him not to speak--not to shake a leaf of +their covert. + +The company passed very near; so near as that the sand thrown up by the +horses' feet pattered among the foliage of the mangroves. No one of the +strangers was then speaking; but in another moment the sentry challenged +them. They laughed, and were certainly stopping at the little gate. + +"We know your master, fellow," said one. "We have had more talk with +him in one day than you in all your service." + +"I am sure I ought to know that voice," whispered Aimee, drawing a long +breath. + +The strangers were certainly intending to pass through the gate into the +grounds; and the sentry was remonstrating. In another moment he fired, +as a signal. There was some clamour and laughter, and Aimee started, as +at a voice from the grave. + +"That is Isaac's voice!" she exclaimed, springing from her seat. It was +now Vincent's turn to hold her hands, or she would have been out in the +broad moonlight in an instant. + +"Stay, love! Stay one moment," he entreated. "I believe you are right; +but let me look out." + +She sank down on the sand, while he reconnoitred. At the moment of his +looking forth, a young man who, he was certain, was Placide, was +good-humouredly taking the sentry by the shoulders, and pushing him from +his place, while saying something in his ear, which made the poor +soldier toss his hat in the air, and run forward to meet his comrades, +whom the sound of his gun was bringing from every direction, over the +sands. + +"It is they, indeed," said Vincent. "Your brothers are both there." + +While he was speaking, Aimee burst from the covert, made her way +miraculously through the gathering horses and men, pushed through the +gate, leaving her lover some way behind, flew like a lapwing through the +shrubbery, and across the lawn, was hanging on her brother's neck before +the news of the arrival was understood within the house. + +There was no waiting till father and mother could choose where to meet +their children. The lads followed the messenger into the salon, crowded +as it was with strangers. L'Ouverture's voice was the first heard, +after the sudden hush. + +"Now, Heaven bless Bonaparte for this!" he cried, "and make him a happy +father!" + +"Hear him, O God! and bless Bonaparte!" sobbed Margot. + +A check was given to their words and their emotions, by seeing by whom +the young men were accompanied. Therese was leading forward Genifrede, +when she stopped short, with a sort of groan, and returned to her seat, +forgetful at the moment even of Genifrede; for Monsieur Papalier was +there. Other gentlemen were of the company. The one whom the young men +most punctiliously introduced to their father was Monsieur Coasson, the +tutor, guardian, or envoy, under whose charge General Leclerc had sent +them home. + +Toussaint offered him a warm welcome, as the guardian of his sons; but +Monsieur Coasson himself seemed most impressed with his office of envoy: +as did the gentlemen who accompanied him. Assuming the air of an +ambassador, and looking round him, as if to require the attention of all +present, Monsieur Coasson discharged himself of his commission, as +follows:-- + +"General Toussaint--" + +"They will not acknowledge him as L'Ouverture," observed Therese to +Madame Pascal and Genifrede. Afra's eyes filled with tears. Genifrede +was absorbed in contemplating her brothers--both grown manly, and the +one looking the soldier, the other the student. + +"General Toussaint," said Coasson, "I come, the bearer of a letter to +you from the First Consul." + +In his hand was now seen a gold box, which he did not, however, deliver +at the moment. + +"With it, I am commissioned to offer the greetings of General Leclerc, +who awaits with anxiety your arrival at his quarters as his +Lieutenant-General." + +"Upon what does General Leclerc ground his expectation of seeing _me_ +there?" + +"Upon the ground of the commands of the First Consul, declared in his +proclamation to the inhabitants of Saint Domingo, and, no doubt, more +fully in this letter to yourself." + +Here he delivered the box, desiring that the presence of himself and his +companions might be no impediment to General Toussaint's reading his +dispatches. + +Toussaint had no intention that they should be any hindrance. He read +and re-read the letter, while all eyes but those of Aimee were fixed +upon his countenance. With an expression of the quietest satisfaction, +she was gazing upon her brothers, unvexed by the presence of numbers, +and the transaction of state business. They were there, and she was +happy. + +Those many eyes failed to discover anything from the countenance of +Toussaint. It was immovable; and Monsieur Coasson was so far +disappointed. It had been his object to prevent the dispatches which he +brought from being road in private, that he might be enabled to report +how they were received. He had still another resource. He announced +that he had brought with him the proclamation of the First Consul to the +inhabitants at large of Saint Domingo. As it was a public document, he +would, with permission, read it aloud. Toussaint now looked round, to +command attention to the words of the ruler of France. Vincent sought +to exchange glances with Aimee; but Aimee had none to spare. Monsieur +Papalier had unceremoniously entered into conversation with some of the +guests of his own complexion, and did not cease upon any hint, declaring +to those about him, that none of this was new to him, as he was in the +counsels of Bonaparte in all Saint Domingo affairs. The tone of their +conversation was, however, reduced to a low murmur, while Monsieur +Coasson read aloud the following proclamation:-- + +"_Paris, November_ 8, 1801. + +"Inhabitants of Saint Domingo, + +"Whatever your origin or your colour, you are all French: you are all +equal, and all free, before God, and before the Republic. + +"France, like Saint Domingo, has been a prey to factions, torn by +intestine commotions and foreign wars. But all has changed: all nations +have embraced the French, and have sworn to them peace and amity: the +French people have embraced each other, and have sworn to be all friends +and brothers. Come also, embrace the French, and rejoice to see again +your European friends and brothers! + +"The government sends you the Captain-General Leclerc. He has +brought--" + +Here Monsieur Coasson's voice and manner became extremely emphatic. + +"He has brought sufficient force for protecting you against your +enemies, and against the enemies of the Republic. If you are told that +these forces are destined to violate your liberties, reply, `The +Republic will not suffer them to be taken from us.' + +"Rally round the Captain-General. He brings you abundance and peace. +Rally all of you around him. Whoever shall dare to separate himself +from the Captain-General will be a traitor to his country; and the +indignation of the country will devour him, as the fire devours your +dried canes. + +"Done at Paris," etcetera. + +"This document is signed, you will perceive," said Monsieur Coasson, "by +the First Consul, and by the Secretary of State, Monsieur H.B. Maret." + +Once more it was in vain to explore the countenance of L'Ouverture. It +was still immovable. He extended his hand for the document, saying that +he would retire with his secretary, for the purpose of preparing his +replies for the First Consul, in order that no such delays might take +place on his part, as the date of the letter and proclamation showed to +have intervened on the other side. Meantime, he requested that Monsieur +Coasson, and all whom he had brought in his company, would make +themselves at home in his house; and, turning to his wife and family, he +commended his newly arrived guests to their hospitality. With a passing +smile and greeting to his sons, he was about to leave the room with +Monsieur Pascal, when Monsieur Coasson intimated that he had one thing +more to say. + +"I am directed, General Toussaint," said he, "in case of your refusal to +join the French forces immediately, to convey your sons back to the +guardianship of the Captain-General Leclerc: and it will be my duty to +set out with them at dawn." + +A cry of anguish broke forth from Margot, and Placide was instantly by +her side. + +"Fear nothing," said Toussaint to her, in a tone which once more fixed +all eyes upon him. His countenance was no longer unmoved. It was +convulsed, for a moment, with passion. He was calm in his manner, +however, as he turned to Monsieur Coasson, and said, "Sir, my sons are +at home. It rests with myself and with them, what excursions they make +henceforth." + +He bowed, and left the room with Monsieur Pascal. + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. + +THE HOUR OF PROOF. + +"So the long-expected letter is come at last," observed Monsieur Pascal, +as the study-door closed upon himself and his friend. + +"Read it," said Toussaint, putting the letter into the secretary's hand, +and walking up and down the room, till his friend spoke again. + +"We hear," said Monsieur Pascal, "that the First Consul understands men. +He may understand some men--the soldiery of France, perhaps--but of +others he knows no more than if he were not himself a man." + +"He no more understands my people than myself. Can it be possible that +he believes that proclamation will be acceptable to them--that mixture +of cajolery and bombast. He has heard that we are ignorant, and he +concludes that we are without understanding. What think you of his +promise of abundance by the hands of Leclerc? As if it were not their +cupidity, excited by our abundance, which has brought these thousands of +soldiers to our shores! They are welcome to it all--to our harvests, +our money, and our merchandise--if they would not touch our freedom." + +"Bonaparte has a word to say to that in his letter to you," observed the +secretary. "What can you desire? The freedom of the blacks? You know +that in all the countries we have been in, we have given it to the +people who had it not? What say the Venetians to that? What says the +Pope!" + +"Does he suppose us deaf," replied Toussaint, "that we have not heard of +the fate of our race in Guadaloupe, and Martinique, and Cayenne? Does +he suppose us blind, that we do not see the pirates he has commissioned +hovering about the shores of Africa, as the vulture preparing to strike +his prey? Ignorant as we are, does he suppose us stupid enough to be +delighted when, free already, we find ourselves surrounded by fifty-four +war-ships, which come to promise us liberty?" + +"He does not know, apparently, how our commerce with the world brings us +tidings of all the world." + +"And if it were not so--if his were the first ships that our eyes had +ever seen--does he not know that the richest tidings of liberty come, +not through the eye and ear, but from the heart? Does he not know that +the liberties of Saint Domingo, large as they are, everlasting as they +will prove to be--all sprang from here and here?"--pointing to his head +and heart. "This is he," he continued, "who has been king in my +thoughts, from the hour when I heard of the artillery officer who had +saved the Convention! This is he to whom I have felt myself bound as a +brother in destiny and in glory! This is he with whom I hoped to share +the lot of reconciling the quarrel of races and of ages! In the eye of +the world he may be great, and I the bandit captain of a despised race. +On the page of history he may be magnified, and I derided. But I spurn +him for a hero--I reject him for a brother. My rival he may make +himself. His soul is narrow, and his aims are low. He might have been +a god to the world, and he is a tyrant. We have followed him with +wistful eyes, to see him loosen bonds with a divine touch; and we find +him busy forging new chains. He has sullied his divine commission; and +while my own remains pure, he is no brother of my soul. You, my friend, +knew him better than I, or you would not have left his service for +mine." + +"Yet I gave him credit for a better appreciation of you, a clearer +foresight of the destiny of this colony, than he has shown." + +"While we live, my friend, we must accept disappointment. In my youth, +I learned to give up hope after hope; and one of the brightest I must +now relinquish in my old age." + +"Two brilliant ones have, however, entered your dwelling this evening, +my friend," said the secretary. + +"My boys? Are they not?--But these are times to show what they are. In +the joy of having them back, I might have forgiven and forgotten +everything, but for the claim--You heard, Pascal?" + +"About their leaving you at dawn. Yes; that was amusing." + +"If they will not consider a negro a man, they might have remembered +that beasts are desperate to recover the young that they have lost. +Leclerc will find, however, that this night will make men of my sons. I +will call them my boys no more; and never more shall this envoy call +them his pupils, or his charge. These French will find that there is +that in this Saint Domingo of ours which quickly ripens young wits, and +makes the harvest ready in a day. Let them beware the reaping; for it +is another sort of harvest than they look for.--But come," said he: "it +is late; and we have to answer the letter of this foreigner--this +stranger to my race and nature." + +He took some papers from his pocket, sat down beside the friend, and +said, with the countenance of one who has heard good news, "See here how +little they comprehend how negroes may be friends! See here the proofs +that they understand my Henri no better than myself." + +And he put into the hands of his secretary those fine letters of +Christophe, which do everlasting honour to his head and heart, and show +that he bore a kingly soul before he adorned the kingly office. As +Monsieur Pascal road the narrative of Leclerc's attempts to alarm, to +cajole, and to bribe Christophe to betray his friend's cause, and +deliver up his person, the pale countenance of the secretary became now +paler with anger and disgust, now flushed with pleasure and admiration. + +"Here is the friend that sticketh closer than a brother," said he. + +"Alas! poor Paul! he will be faithful, Pascal; but he can never again +love me." + +"Pardon me, I entreat you. I meant no allusion." + +"You did not. But everything serves as an allusion there; for Paul is +never out of my mind. Now for our letters;--that to Leclerc modified, +as you perceive, by our knowledge of what has passed between him and +Henri." + +"Modified, indeed!" exclaimed Pascal. + +Their proceedings were destined to be further modified by the events of +this night. Tidings as black as the darkest night that ever brooded +over the island in the season of storms poured in to overshadow the +prospects of the negroes, and the hopes of their chief. + +It was after midnight when, in the midst of their quiet consultation, +Toussaint and his secretary thought they heard voices at the gate. +Toussaint was going to ascertain, when he was met in the hall by news +that a messenger from the south-west had arrived. The messenger +entered, halting and slow. + +"It is--no," said Pascal; "surely it cannot be--" + +"Is it possible that you are Jacques?" exclaimed Toussaint, his eyes +shaded by his hand. + +"I am Dessalines," said the wounded man, who had already sunk upon a +seat. + +"Why come yourself, in this state!" cried Toussaint, hastening to +support him. + +"I could more easily come than write my news," replied Dessalines; "and +it is news that I would commit to no man's ear but your own." + +"Shall I go?" asked Monsieur Pascal of Toussaint. + +"No. Stay and hear. Tell us your tidings, Jacques." + +"I am as well here as down in the south-west, or you would not have seen +me." + +"You mean that all is lost there?" + +"All is lost there." + +"While the enemy is beguiling us with letters, and talk of truce!" +observed Toussaint to Pascal. "Where was your battle, Jacques? How can +all the west be lost?" + +"The French have bought La Plume. They told him your cause was +desperate, and promised him honours and office in France. Get me cured, +and let me win a battle for you, and I have no doubt I can buy him back +again. Meantime--" + +"Meantime, what has Domage done? Is he with me or La Plume? And is +Chaney safe?" + +"Domage never received your instructions. La Plume carried them, and no +doubt, your aide-de-camp also, straight to the French. Chaney has not +been seen: he is traitor or prisoner." + +"Then Cayes is not burned, nor Jeremie defended?" + +"Neither the one nor the other. Both are lost; and so is +Port-au-Prince. My troops and I did our best at the Croix de Bosquets: +but what could we do in such a case? I am here, wounded within an inch +of my life; and they are in the fastnesses. You were a doctor once, +L'Ouverture. Set me up again; and I will gather my men from the +mountains, and prick these whites all across the peninsula into the +sea." + +"I will be doctor, or nurse, or anything, to save you, Jacques." + +"What if I have more bad news? Will you not hate me?" + +"Lose no time, my friend. This is no hour for trifling." + +"There is no room for trifling, my friend. I fear--I am not certain-- +but I fear the east is lost." + +"Is Clerveaux bought too?" + +"Not bought. He is more of your sort than La Plume's. He is +incorruptible by money; but he likes the French, and he loves peace. He +would be a very brother to you, if he only loved liberty better than +either. As it is, he is thought to have delivered over the whole east, +from the Isabella to Cap Samana, without a blow." + +"And my brother!" + +"He has disappeared from the city. He did not yield; but he could do +nothing by himself, or with only his guard. He disappeared in the +night, and is thought to have put off! by water. You will soon hear +from him, I doubt not. Now I have told my news, and I am faint. Where +is Therese?" + +"She is here. Look more like yourself, and she shall be called. You +have told all your news?" + +"All; and I am glad it is out." + +"Keep up your heart, Dessalines! I have you and Henri; and God is with +the faithful.--Now to your bed, my friend." + +Instead of the attendants who were summoned, Therese entered. She spoke +no word, but aided by her servant, had her husband carried to his +chamber. When the door was closed, sad and serious as were the tidings +which had now to be acted upon, the secretary could not help asking +L'Ouverture if he had ever seen Madame Dessalines look as she did just +now. + +"Yes," he replied, "on certain occasions, some years since.--But here +she is again." + +Therese came to say that her husband had yet something to relate into +Toussaint's own ear before he could sleep; but, on her own part, she +entreated that she might first be permitted to dress his wounds. + +"Send for me when you think fit, and I will come, madame. But, Therese, +one word. I am aware that Monsieur Papalier is here. Do not forget +that you are a Christian, and pledged to forgive injuries." + +"You think you read my thoughts, L'Ouverture; but you do not. Listen, +and I am gone. His voice once had power over me through love, and then +through hatred. I never miss the lightest word he speaks. I heard him +tell his old friends from Cap that I was his slave, and that the time +was coming when masters would claim their own again. Now you know my +thoughts." + +And she was gone. + +When Toussaint returned from his visit to Dessalines' chamber, he found +Monsieur Pascal sitting with his face hid in his hands. + +"Meditation is good," said Toussaint, laying his hand on his friend's +shoulder. "Lamentation is unworthy." + +"It is so; and we have much to do," replied the secretary, rousing +himself. + +"Fear not," resumed Toussaint, "but that your bride will bloom in the +air of the mountains. We may have to entrench ourselves in the mornes-- +or, at least, to place there our ladies, and the civil officers of the +government; but we ought to thank God for providing those natural homes, +so full of health and beauty, for the free in spirit. I have still +three brigades, and the great body of the cultivators, in reserve; but +we shall all act with stronger hearts if our heart's treasure is safe in +the mornes." + +"Are we to lose Dessalines?" asked Monsieur Pascal. + +"I believe not. He is severely wounded, and, at this moment, +exasperated. He vows the death of Monsieur Papalier; and I vow his +safety while he is my guest." + +"Papalier and Madame Dessalines cannot exist in one house." + +"And therefore must this deputation be dismissed early in the morning, +if there were no other reasons. Notice must be carried to them with +their coffee, that I am awaiting them with my replies. Those delivered, +negotiation is at an end, and we must act. My foes have struck the blow +which unties my hands." + +"What has Monsieur Papalier to do with the deputation?" + +"Nothing, but that he uses its protection to attempt to resume his +estates. They are in commission; and he may have them; though not, as +he thinks, with men and women as part of his chattels. No more of him." + +"Of whom next, then? Except Christophe, who is there worthy to be named +by you?" asked Monsieur Pascal, with emotion. + +"Every one who has deserted us, except, perhaps, La Plume. He is +sordid; and I dismiss him. As for Clerveaux and his thousands, they +have been weak, but not, perhaps, wicked. They may be recovered. I +take the blame of their weakness upon myself. Would that I alone could +bear the consequences!" + +"You take the blame of their weakness? Is not their former slavery the +cause of it? Is there anything in their act but the servility in which +they were reared?" + +"There is much of that. But I have deepened the taint, in striving to +avoid the opposite corruption of revenge. I have the taint myself. The +stain of slavery exists in the First of the Blacks himself. Let all +others, then, be forgiven. They may thus be recovered. I gave them the +lesson of loving and trusting the whites. They have done so, to the +point of being treacherous to me. I must now give them another lesson, +and time to learn it; and they may possibly be redeemed." + +"You will hold out in the mornes--conduct your resistance on a pinnacle, +where the eyes of the blacks may be raised to you--fixed upon you." + +"Just so;--and where they may flock to me, when time shall have taught +them my principle and my policy, and revealed the temper and purpose of +our invaders. Now, then, to prepare!" + +Before dawn, the despatches for the French, on the coast and at home, +were prepared; and messengers were dismissed, in every direction, with +orders by which the troops which remained faithful would be +concentrated, the cultivators raised and collected, stores provided in +the fastnesses, and the new acquisitions of the enemy rendered useless +to them. Never had the heads of these two able men, working in perfect +concert, achieved such a mass of work in a single night. + +A little after sunrise, the French party appeared in the salon, where +already almost every member of the household was collected; all being +under the impression that a crisis had arrived, and that memorable words +were about to be spoken. + +Toussaint acknowledged the apparent discourtesy of appointing the hour +for the departure of his guests; but declared that he had no apology to +offer:--that the time for courteous observance was past, when his guests +were discovered to be sent merely to amuse and disarm him for the hour, +while blows were struck at a distance against the liberties of his race. +In delivering his despatches, he said, he was delivering his farewell. +Within an hour, the deputation and himself must be travelling in +different directions. + +Monsieur Coasson, on receiving the packets, said that he had no other +desire than to be on his way. There could be no satisfaction, and +little safety, in remaining in a house where, under a hypocritical +pretence of magnanimity and good-will, there lurked a spirit of hideous +malice, of diabolical revenge, towards a race to whom nature, and the +universal consent of men, had given a superiority which they could never +lose. + +In unaffected surprise, Toussaint looked in the face of the envoy, +observing that, for himself, he disclaimed all such passion and such +dissimulation as his household was charged with. + +"Of course you do," replied Coasson: "but I require not your testimony. +The men of a family may, where there is occasion, conceal its ruling +passion: but, where there is occasion, it will be revealed by the +women." + +Toussaint's eyes, like every one's else, turned to the ladies of his +family. It was not Madame L'Ouverture that was intended, for her +countenance asked of her husband what this could mean. It could not be +Aimee, who now stood drowned in tears, where she could best conceal her +grief. Genifrede explained. She told calmly, and without the slightest +confusion, that Monsieur Coasson had sought a conversation with her, for +the purpose of winning over her feelings, and her influence with her +father, to the side of the French. He had endeavoured to make her +acknowledge that the whole family, with the exception of its head, were +in favour of peace, admirers of Bonaparte, and aware that they were +likely to be victims to the ambition of their father. Her reply, in +which she declared that she gloried, was that the deepest passion of her +soul was hatred of the whites; and that she prayed for their +annihilation. + +"And did you also declare, my daughter," said Toussaint, "that in this +you differ from us all? Did you avow that your parents look upon this +passion in you as a disease, for which you have their daily and nightly +prayers?" + +"I did declare, my father, that I alone of the Ouvertures know how to +feel for the wrongs of my race. But Monsieur Coasson did not believe +me, and vowed that we should all suffer for the opinions held by me +alone." + +"It is true, I did not believe, nor do I now believe," said Coasson, +"that the devil would single out one of a family, to corrupt her heart +with such atrocious hatred as that whose avowal chilled the marrow of my +bones. It was her countenance of wretchedness that attracted me. I saw +that she was less capable of dissimulation than the rest of you; and so +I have found." + +"A wise man truly has the Captain-General chosen for an envoy!" observed +Toussaint: "a wise and an honourable man! He sees woe in the face of a +woman, and makes it his instrument for discovering the secret souls of +her family. Blindly bent upon this object, and having laid open, as he +thinks, one heart, he reads the rest by it. But he may, with all his +wisdom, and all this honour, be no less ignorant than before he saw us. +So far from reading all our souls, he has not even read the suffering +one that he has tempted. You have opened the sluices of the waters of +bitterness in my child's soul, Monsieur Coasson, but you have not found +the source." + +"Time will show that," observed the envoy. + +"It will," replied Toussaint; "and also the worth of your threat of +revenge for the words of my suffering child. I have no more to say to +you.--My sons!" + +Placide sprang to his side, and Isaac followed. + +"I no longer call you boys; for the choice of this hour makes you men. +The Captain-General insists that you go from me. He has no right to do +so. Neither have I a right to bid you stay. Hear, and decide for +yourselves.--The cause of the blacks is not so promising as it appeared +last night. News has arrived, from various quarters, of defeat and +defection. Our struggle for our liberties will be fierce and long. It +will never be relinquished; and my own conviction is, that the cause of +the blacks will finally prevail; that Saint Domingo will never more +belong to France. The ruler of France has been a guardian to you--an +indulgent guardian. I do not ask you to tight against him." + +The faces of both the young men showed strong and joyful emotion; but it +was not the same emotion in them both. + +"Decide according to your reason and your hearts, my children, whether +to go or stay; remembering the importance of your choice." Putting a +hand on the shoulder of each, he said impressively, "Go to the +Captain-General, or remain with me. Whichever you do, I shall always +equally love and cherish you." + +Margot looked upon her sons, as if awaiting from them life or death. +Aimee's face was still hidden in her handkerchief. She had nothing to +learn of her brother's inclinations. + +Isaac spoke before Placide could open his lips. + +"We knew, father," he said, "that your love and your rare liberality-- +that liberality which gave us our French education--would not fail now. +And this it is that persuades me that this quarrel cannot proceed to +extremities--that it will not be necessary for your sons to take any +part, as you propose. When Placide and I think of you--your love of +peace, your loyalty, and your admiration of Bonaparte; and then, when we +think of Bonaparte--his astonishment at what you have done in the +colony, and the terms in which he always spoke of you to us--when we +consider how you two are fitted to appreciate each other, we cannot +believe but that the Captain-General and you will soon be acting in +harmony, for the good of both races. But for this assurance, we could +hardly have courage to return." + +"Speak for yourself alone, Isaac," said his brother. + +"Well, then: I say for myself, that, but for this certainly, it would +almost break my heart to leave you so soon again, though to go at +present no further off than Tortuga. But I am quite confident that +there will soon be perfect freedom of intercourse among all who are on +the island." + +"You return with me?" asked Monsieur Coasson. + +"Certainly, as my father gives me my choice. I feel myself bound, in +honour and gratitude, to return, instead of appearing to escape, at the +very first opportunity, from those with whom I can never quarrel. +Returning to Leclerc, under his conditional orders, can never be +considered a declaration against my father: while remaining here, +against Leclerc's orders, is an undeniable declaration against Bonaparte +and France--a declaration which I never will make." + +"I stay with my father," said Placide. + +"Your reasons?" asked Monsieur Coasson; "that I may report them to the +Captain-General." + +"I have no reasons," replied Placide; "or, if I have, I cannot recollect +them now. I shall stay with my father." + +"Welcome home, my boy!" said Toussaint; "and Isaac, my son, may God +bless you, wherever you go." + +And he opened his arms to them both. + +"I am not afraid," said Madame L'Ouverture, timidly, as if scarcely +venturing to say so much--"I am not afraid but that, happen what may, we +can always make a comfortable home for Placide." + +"Never mind comfort, mother: and least of all for me. We have something +better than comfort to try for now." + +"Give me your blessing, too, father," said Aimee, faintly, as Isaac led +her forward, and Vincent closely followed. "You said you would bless +those that went, and those that stayed; and I am going with Isaac." + +The parents were speechless; so that Isaac could explain that the +Captain-General offered a welcome to as many of the Ouvertures as were +disposed to join him; and that Madame Leclerc had said that his sisters +would find a home and protection with her. + +"And I cannot separate from Isaac yet," pleaded Aimee. "And with Madame +Leclerc--" + +"General Vincent," said Toussaint, addressing his aide before noticing +his daughter, "have the goodness to prepare for an immediate journey. I +will give you your commission when you are ready to ride." + +After one moment's hesitation, Vincent bowed, and withdrew. He was not +prepared to desert his General while actually busy in his affairs. He +reflected that the great object (in order to the peace and +reconciliation he hoped for) was to serve, and keep on a good +understanding with, both parties. He would discharge this commission, +and then follow Aimee and her brother, as he had promised. Thus he +settled with himself, while he ordered his horses, and prepared for +departure. + +Toussaint was sufficiently aware that he should prosper better without +his shallow-minded and unstable aide; but he meant to retain him about +his person, on business in his service, till Aimee should have +opportunity, in his absence, to explore her own mind, and determine her +course, while far from the voice of the tempter. + +"Go with your brother, Aimee," he said, "rather than remain unwillingly +with us. Whenever you wish it, return. You will find our arms ever +open to you." + +And he blessed her, as did her weeping mother--the last, however, not +without a word of reproach. + +"Oh, Aimee, why did not you tell me?" + +"Mother, I did not know myself--I was uncertain--I was--Oh, mother! it +will not be for long. It is but a little way: and Isaac and I shall +soon write. I will tell you everything about Madame Leclerc. Kiss me +once more, mother; and take care of Genifrede." + +As Toussaint abruptly turned away, with a parting bow to the envoy, and +entered the piazza, on his way to the urgent business of the day, and as +the shortest escape from the many eyes that were upon him, he +encountered Monsieur Pascal, who stood awaiting him there. + +"My friend!" said Monsieur Pascal, with emotion, as he looked in the +face of Toussaint. + +"Ay, Pascal: it is bitter. Bonaparte rose up as my rival; and +cheerfully did I accept him for such, in the council and in the field. +But now he is my rival in my family. He looks defiance at me through my +children's eyes. It is too much. God give me patience!" + +Monsieur Pascal did not speak; for what could he say? + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY. + +SPECULATION IN THE PLATEAUX. + +Pongaudin was no longer safe, as head-quarters for the +Commander-in-chief, his family, and guests. The defeats which had been +sustained were bad enough; but the defection was worse. Amidst the +contagion of defection there was no saying who, out of the circle of +immediate friends, might next join the French for the sake of peace; and +for the sake of peace, perhaps, deliver up the persons of the +Ouvertures, with their wounded friend, Dessalines, and the brave young +officers who formed the guard of the household. Christophe's letters +had already proved to Toussaint and his secretary, that no reliance was +to be placed on the honour of the French, in their dealings with +negroes. Cajolery in speech, covering plots against their persons, +appeared to be considered the conduct appropriate to business with +blacks, who had no concern, it seemed, with the usages of war, as +established among whites. La Plume had fallen by bribery; Clerveaux by +cajolery; and both means had been attempted with Christophe. The troops +were assailed on the side of their best affections. They were told that +Leclerc came to do honour to L'Ouverture--to thank him for his +government of the island during the troubles of France, and to convoy to +him the approbation of the First Consul, in papers enclosed in a golden +box. It is probable that, if they had not heard from Toussaint's own +lips of the establishment of slavery in the other French colonies, the +authorisation of the slave-trade, and the threat to do what was +convenient with Saint Domingo--all the negroes would have made the +French welcome, as Clerveaux had done. As it was, large numbers +unquestionably remained faithful to their liberties and their chief-- +enough, as Toussaint never doubted, to secure their liberties at last: +but how many, and after how long and arduous a struggle, it remained for +time to show. + +Many houses had been offered as a retreat for the household of the +Commander-in-chief. The one chosen this day was his friend Raymond's +cacao-plantation, Le Zephyr, in the Mornes du Chaos--among the mountains +which retired above the light bank of the Artibonite. It was a spacious +mansion, sheltered from storms, but enjoying a pleasant mountain air-- +the most wholesome that could be found, if the retreat should continue +through the hot season. It was surrounded with never-failing springs of +pure water. There were kids on all the hills, and cattle in every +valley round. Grain and fruits were in the fields and gardens; and it +was thought that one well-guarded post, at a pass below the Plateaux de +la Ravine, would render the place inaccessible to the enemy. To the +satisfaction of Raymond and his daughter, and the delight of Euphrosyne, +this, their beloved summer mansion, was fixed on for the abode of the +whole party, provided Toussaint should find, on examination, that it +would answer his purposes as well as was now supposed. + +Such was the plan settled presently after the deputation had left the +gates--settled among the few confidential friends, whose tastes, as well +as interests, Toussaint chose to consult. Madame Dessalines was among +those; and one of the most eager to be gone. She engaged to remove her +husband safely to a place where his recovery must proceed better than +among the agitations of Pongaudin. By one of these agitations her +desire to go had been much quickened. Before the departure of the +deputation, she had chanced to meet Monsieur Papalier in one of the +corridors, equipped for his journey. She could not avoid passing him; +and he had greeted her with a significant "Au revoir, Therese." +Fervently she prayed that she might never meet him again; and anxious +was she to be gone to a place where he could not come. + +Before noon, L'Ouverture, with Placide riding by his side, and followed +by some officers, who were themselves followed by a few soldiers, was +among the heights which commanded the plain of the Artibonite on one +side, and on the other the valleys which lay between their party and the +Gros Morne. They had visited Le Zephyr, and were now about to examine +the pass where their post was to be established. + +"This heat, Placide," said his father, as the sun beat down upon their +heads, "is it not too much for you? Perhaps you had better--But I beg +your pardon," he added, smiling; "I had forgotten that you are no longer +my growing boy, Placide, whom I must take care of. I beg your pardon, +Placide; but it is so new to me to have a manly son beside me--!" + +And he looked at him with eyes of pride. + +Placide told how often at Paris he had longed to bask in such a sunshine +as this, tempered by the fragrant breezes from the mountain-side. He +was transported now to hear the blows of the axe in the woods, and the +shock of the falling trunks, as the hewers of the logwood and the +mahogany trees were at their hidden work. He was charmed with the songs +of the cultivators which rose from the hot plain below, where they were +preparing the furrows for the indigo-sowing. He greeted every housewife +who, with her children about her, was on her knees by the +mountain-stream, washing linen, and splashing her little ones in sport. +All these native sights and sounds, so unlike Paris, exhilarated Placide +in the highest degree. He was willing to brave either heats or +hurricanes on the mountains, for the sake of thus feeling himself once +more in his tropical home. + +"One would think it a time of peace," said he, "with the wood-cutters +and cultivators all about us. Where will be the first cropping from +those indigo-fields? And, if that is saved, where will be the second!" + +"Of that last question, ask me again when we are alone," replied his +father. "As for the rest, it is by no will of mine that our people are +to be called off from their wood-cutting and their tillage. To the last +moment, you see, I encourage the pursuits of peace. But, if you could +see closely these men in the forest and the fields, you would find that, +as formerly, they have the cutlass at their belt, and the rifle slung +across their shoulders. They are my most trusty soldiery." + +"Because they love you best, and owe most to you. What has Vincent +discovered below there--far-off? Have you your glass, father?" + +"The deputation, perhaps," said Toussaint. + +"Yes: there they are! They have crossed the Trois Rivieres, and they +are creeping up towards Plaisance. What a mere handful the party looks +at this distance! What mere insects to be about to pull the thunder +down upon so many heads! What an atom of space they cover! Yet +Vincent's heart is on that little spot, I believe. Is it not so, +father?" + +"Yes! unless some of it is, as I fear, with the fleet beyond the ridge." + +"He will be missing, some day soon, then." + +"For his own sake and Aimee's, I trust not. This step of hers has +disconcerted me: but no harm can be done by detaining Vincent in honour +near me, till the turn of events may decide his inclinations in favour +of Aimee's father, and of his own race. Detained he must be, for the +present, in dishonour, if not in honour: for he knows too much of my +affairs to be allowed to see Leclerc. If Aimee returns to us, or if we +gain a battle, Vincent will be ours without compulsion. Meantime, I +keep him always employed beside me." + +"This is the place for our post, surely," said Placide. "See how the +rocks are rising on either hand above this level! No one could pass +here whom we choose to obstruct." + +"Yes: this is the spot; these are the Plateaux," replied his father, +awaiting the officers and soldiers--the latter being prepared with +tools, to mark out and begin their work. + +While the consultations and measurements were going on, Placide's eye +was caught by the motion of a young fawn in the high grass of a lawny +slope, on one side of the valley. He snatched the loaded rifle which +one of the soldiers had exchanged for a spade and fired. The passion +for sport was instantly roused by the act. Kids were seen here and +there on the rocks. Marks were not wanting: and first Vincent, and then +one and another, followed Placide's example; and there were several +shots at the same instant, whose echoes reverberated to the delighted +ear of Placide, who was sorry when the last had died away among the +mountain-tops. + +"Your first and last sport for to-day," observed Toussaint. "You have +given the game a sufficient alarm for the present." + +"We must find our game, as we have shot it," exclaimed Vincent. "My kid +is not far-off." + +"After it, then! You will find me under the large cotton-tree yonder. +The heat is too great here, Placide, between these walls of rock." + +Every man of the party was off in pursuit of his game, except Placide, +who remained to ask his father, now they were alone, what was to happen +at the season of the second indigo-cutting. They threw themselves down +beneath the cotton-tree, which with its own broad shades, deepened by +the masses of creepers which twined and clustered about it, and weighed +it down on every side, afforded as complete a shelter from the shower of +sun-rays as any artificial roof could have done. + +"The second indigo-cutting is in August, you know," said Toussaint. +"August will decide our freedom, if it is not decided before. August is +the season when Nature comes in as our ally--comes in with her army of +horrors, which we should not have the heart to invoke, but which will +arrive, with or without our will; and which it will be the fault of the +French themselves if they brave." + +"Foul airs and pestilence, you mean!" said Placide. + +"I mean foul airs and pestilence. All our plans, my son--(it is a +comfort to make a counsellor of my own son!)--all the plans of my +generals and myself are directed to provide for our defence till August, +certain that then the French will be occupied in grappling with a +deadlier foe than even men fighting for their liberties." + +"Till August!" repeated Placide. "Nearly six months! I scarcely think +the French could hold their footing so long, if--but that--" + +"If what? Except for what?" + +"If it were not for the tremendous reinforcements which I fear will be +sent." + +"I thought so," said his father. + +"All France is eager to come," continued Placide. "The thousands who +are here (about twelve thousand, I fancy; but they did what they could +to prevent our knowing the numbers exactly)--the thousands who are here +are looked upon with envy by those who are left behind. The jealousy +was incredible--the clamour to gain appointments to the Saint Domingo +expedition." + +"To be appointed to pestilence in the hospitals, and a grave in the +sands!" exclaimed Toussaint. "It is strange! Frenchmen enough have +died here, in seasons of trouble, to convince all France that only in +times of peace, leisure, stillness, and choice of residence, have +Europeans a fair chance of life here, for a single year. It is strange +that they do not foresee their own death-angels clustering on our +shores." + +"The delusion is so strong," said Placide, "that I verily believe that +if these twelve thousand were all dead to-day, twenty thousand more +would be ready to come to-morrow. If every officer was buried here, the +choicest commanders there would press forward over their graves. If +even the Leclercs should perish, I believe that other relatives of the +First Consul, and perhaps some other of his sisters, would kneel to him, +as these have done, to implore him to appoint them to the new expedition +to Saint Domingo." + +"The madness of numbers is never without an open cause," said Toussaint. +"What is the cause here?" + +"Clear and plain enough. The representations of the emigrants coming in +aid of the secret wishes of Bonaparte, have, under his encouragement, +turned the heads of his family, his court, and after them, of his +people." + +"The emigrants sigh for their country (and it is a country to sigh +after), and they look back on their estates and their power, I suppose; +while the interval of ten years dims in their memories all +inconveniences from the climate, and from the degradation of their +order." + +"They appear to forget that any form of evil but Oge and you, father, +ever entered their paradise. They say that, but for you, they might +have been all this while in paradise. They have boasted of its wealth +and its pleasures, till there is not a lady in the court of France who +does not long to come and dwell in palaces of perfumed woods, marbles, +and gold and silver. They dream of passing the day in breezy shades, +and of sipping the nectar of tropical fruits, from hour to hour. They +think a good deal, too, of the plate and wines, and equipages, and +trains of attendants, of which they have heard so much; and at the same +time, of martial glory and laurel crowns." + +"So these are the ideas with which they have come to languish on +Tortuga, and be buried in its sands! These emigrants have much to +answer for." + +"So Isaac and I perpetually told them; but they would not listen to +anything said by an Ouverture. Nor could we wonder at this, when +persons of every colour were given to the same boastings; so that Isaac +and I found ourselves tempted into a like strain upon occasion." + +"It appears as if the old days had returned," said Toussaint; "the days +of Columbus and his crows. We are as the unhappy Indians to the +rapacity of Europe. No wonder, if mulattoes and blacks speak of the +colony as if it were the old Hayti." + +"They do, from Lanville, the coffee-planter, to our Mars Plaisir. Mars +Plaisir has brought orders for I do not know how many parrots; and for +pearls, and perfumes, and spices, and variegated woods." + +"Is it possible?" said Toussaint, smiling. "Does he really believe his +own stories? If so, that accounts for his staying with you, instead of +going with Isaac; which I wondered at. I thought he could not have +condescended to us, after having lived in France." + +"He condescends to be wherever he finds most scope for boasting. On +Tortuga, or among the ashes of Cap, he can boast no more. With us he +can extol France, as there he extolled Saint Domingo. If August brings +the destruction we look for, the poor fellow ought to die of remorse; +but he has not head enough to suffer for the past. You can hold out +till August, father?" + +"If Maurepas joins us here with his force, I have no doubt of holding +out till August. In these mornes, as many as will not yield might +resist for life; but my own forces, aided by those of Maurepas, may +effectually keep off the grasp of the French from all places but those +in which they are actually quartered. A few actions may be needful,-- +morally needful,--to show them that the blacks can fight. If this +lesson will not suffice, August, alas! will exterminate the foe. What +do I see stirring among the ferns there? Is it more game?" + +Placide started up. + +"Too near us for game," he whispered; and then added aloud, "Shall we +carry home another deer? Shall I fire?" + +At these words, some good French was heard out of the tall, tree-like +ferns,--voices of men intreating that no one would fire; and two +Frenchman presently appeared, an army and a navy officer. + +"How came you here, gentlemen? Are you residents in the colony?" + +"If we had been, we should not have lost ourselves, as you perceive we +have done. We are sent by the Captain-General to parley, as a last hope +of avoiding the collision which the Captain-General deprecates. Here +are our credentials, by which you will discover our names,--Lieutenant +Martin," pointing to his companion, "and Captain Sabes," bowing for +himself. + +"It is too late for negotiation, gentlemen," said L'Ouverture, "as the +news from the south will already have informed the Captain-General. I +regret the accident of your having lost your way, as it will deprive you +for a time of your liberty. You must be aware that, voluntarily or +involuntarily, you have fulfilled the office of spies; and for the +present, therefore, I cannot part with you. Placide, summon our +attendants, and, with them, escort these gentlemen to Le Zephyr. I +shall soon join you there, and hear anything that your charge may have +to say." + +The officers protested, but in vain. + +"It is too late, gentlemen. You may thank your own commanders for +compelling me to run no more risks--for having made trust in a French +officer's honour a crime to my own people. You may have heard and seen +so much that I am compelled to hold you prisoners. As I have no proof, +however, that you are spies, your lives are safe." + +In answer to Placide's shout--the well-known mountain-cry which he was +delighted to revive--their followers appeared on all sides, some +bringing in their game, some empty-handed. The French officers saw that +escape was impossible. Neither had they any thought, but for a passing +moment, of fighting for their liberty. The Ouvertures were completely +armed; and there never was an occasion when a man would lightly engage, +hand-to-hand, with Toussaint or his son. + +Half the collected party, including Vincent, accompanied Toussaint to +Pongaudin. The other half escorted Placide and his prisoners up the +morne to Le Zephyr; these carried all the game for a present provision. + +Placide observed an interchange of glances between his prisoners as they +passed the spades, pick-axes, and fresh-dug earth in the plateaus. He +had little idea how that glance was connected with the romancing he had +just been describing; nor how much of insult and weary suffering it +boded to his father. + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY ONE. + +RETREAT. + +Pongaudin was indeed no longer safe. Immediately on the return of +Coasson to the fleet, under the date of the 17th of February, the +Captain-General issued a proclamation of outlawry against L'Ouverture +and Christophe, pronouncing it the imperative duty of every one who had +the power to seize and deliver up the traitors. As Toussaint said to +his family, Pongaudin was a residence for a citizen; outlaws must go to +the mountains. + +To the mountain they went--not weeping and trembling, but in a temper of +high courage and hope. The rocks rang with the military music which +accompanied them. Their very horses seemed to feel the spirit of their +cause; much more were the humblest of the soldiery animated with the +hope of success in the struggle, which was now to be carried on in a +mode which they much preferred to keeping watch in the plains. They +found the pass well fortified; they found the morne above it still and +undisturbed; untrod, as it seemed now likely to remain, by the foot of +an invader. They found the mansion at Le Zephyr, spacious as it was, +much enlarged by temporary erections, and prepared for the abode of more +than the number that had come. Madame Pascal looked at her husband with +a sigh, when the alterations met her eye; and Raymond himself did not +much relish seeing sentinels posted at all his gates. Euphrosyne, +however, was still quite happy. Here was her beloved Le Zephyr, with +its blossoming cacao-groves. Here were space, freedom, and friends; and +neither convent rules nor nuns. + +A perpetual line of communication was established between the pass and +this mansion. Vincent, with a troop, was appointed to guard the estate +and the persons on it--including the two French prisoners. Placide was +to join his father below, to receive the forces which flocked to the +rendezvous. Before he went, he pointed out to Vincent, and his own +family, a station, on a steep at some distance in the rear of the house, +whence they might discern, with a good glass, the road which wound +through the plain of the Artibonite, within two miles of the Plateaux, +and up towards Plaisance to the north. Many and wonderful were the +objects seen from this lofty station; but not one of them--not even the +green knolls and hollows of the morne, stretched out from Le Zephyr to +the pass--not the brimming river of the plain--not the distant azure +sea, with its tufted isles--was so interesting, under present +circumstances, as this yellow winding road--the way of approach of +either friend or foe. + +But for the apprehensions belonging to a state of warfare--apprehensions +which embitter life in all its hours to women--and, possibly, more than +is generally acknowledged, to men--but for the speculations as to who +was destined to die, who to fall into the most cruel hands that ever +abused their power over a helpless foe (for the French of former wars +were not forgotten), and what was to be the lot of those who escaped +death and capture--but for these speculations, which were stirring in +every woman's heart in all that household, the way of life at Le Zephyr +was pleasant enough. + +Even poor Genifrede appeared to revive here. She showed more interest +in nursing Dessalines than in any previous occupation since the death of +her lover. Therese was delighted to afford her the opportunity of +feeling herself useful, and permitted herself many a walk in the groves, +many an hour of relaxation in the salon, which she would have despised, +but for their affording an interest to Genifrede. The three were more +than ever drawn together by their new experience of the conduct of the +French. Never was sick man more impatient to be strong than Dessalines. +Genifrede regarded him as the pillar of the cause, on account of his +uncompromising passion for vengeance; and his wife herself counted the +days till he could be again abroad at the head of his forces. + +When not in attendance upon him, Genifrede spent the hours of daylight +at the station on the height. She cared neither for heat nor chill +while there, and forgot food and rest; and there was sometimes that in +her countenance when she returned, and in the tone of her prophesying +about the destruction of the enemy, which caused the whisper to go round +that she met her lover there, just under the clouds. Monsieur Pascal-- +the rational, sagacious Monsieur Pascal--was of opinion that she +believed this herself. + +On this station, and other heights which surrounded the mansion, there +were other objects of interest than the visitations of the clouds, and +the whisperings of the breezes from the depths of the woods. For many +days, a constant excitement was caused by the accession of troops. Not +only Toussaint's own bands followed him to the post, but three thousand +more, on whom he could rely, were spared from his other strong posts in +the mountains. Soon after these three thousand, Christophe appeared +with such force as could be spared from the garrisons in the north. The +officers under Dessalines also, aware that the main struggle, whenever +the French would come to an engagement, must be in the Plateaux de la +Ravine, drew thither, with the remnants of the force which had suffered +defeat in the south-west. Hither, too, came Bellair, with his family, +and the little garrison which had fortified and held L'Etoile, till it +became necessary to burn and leave it. + +Messenger arrived after messenger, to announce these accessions of +force; and the whole household poured out upon the heights to see and +hear. If it was at noon, the clear music of the wind-instruments +floated faintly in the still air; if the morning or evening breezes were +abroad the harmony came in gushes; and the shouts of greeting and +reception were plainly distinguishable, and were responded to +involuntarily by all at Le Zephyr but the two prisoners. Under the +impulse of the moment, no voice was louder or more joyous than +Vincent's. It now only remained for Maurepas to bring his numerous +troops up to the point of junction. He must presently arrive; and then, +as Placide and other sanguine young soldiers thought, and as Sabes and +his companion began seriously to fear, the negro force under L'Ouverture +might defy all Europe. + +News, stirring news, came from all corners of the colony with every +fresh arrival. Deesha, especially, could tell all that had been done, +not only at L'Etoile, and in all the plain of Cul-de-Sac, but within the +districts of the unfaithful generals, Clerveaux and La Plume. Her boy +Juste, though too young to take a practical part in the war, carried the +passion and energy of a man into the cause, and was versed in all the +details of the events which had taken place since the landing of the +French. It was a sore mortification to Juste that he was not permitted +to remain by his father's side at the Plateaux; but he consoled himself +with teaching his little brother Tobie the military exercise, and with +sport. Juste was as fond of sport as on the day when he floated under +calabashes, to catch wild ducks; and this was well; for at Le Zephyr, +under present circumstances, the sportsman was one of the most useful +members of the establishment. The air of the mornes was celebrated for +its power of creating an appetite; and there were many mouths to feed: +so that Juste was assured, on all hands, that he had as important a +function to fulfil as if he had been a soldier. As it was believed +impossible for human foot to stray beyond the morne by any other passage +than that of the Plateaux, the boys were permitted to be out early and +late, in the woods and upon the hill-sides; and often did Genifrede and +the sentries hear the far-off shouts of the little sportsmen, or see the +puff of smoke from Juste's rifle in the valley, or under the verge of +the groves. Many a nest of young orioles did Tobie abstract from the +last fork of a branch, when the peculiar note of the parent-bird led him +on into the midst of the thicket where these delicate creatures hide +themselves. The ring-tail dove, one of the most exquisite of table +luxuries, he was very successful in liming; and he would bring home a +dozen in a morning. He could catch turkeys with a noose, and young pigs +to barbecue. He filled baskets with plover's eggs from the high lands; +and of the wild-fowl he brought in, there was no end. In the midst of +these feats, he engaged for far greater things in a little while--when +the soldier-crabs should make their annual march down the mountains, on +their way to the sea. In those days, Tobie promised the tables at Le +Zephyr should groan under the profusion of savoury soups, which should +banish for the season the salt beef and salt-fish which, meantime, +formed part of the daily diet of the household. + +While his little brother was thus busy with smaller game, Juste was +indulging a higher ambition. When nothing better was to be had, he +could condescend to plovers and pigeons; but he liked better to bring +down a dainty young heifer among the herds of wild cattle, or several +head of deer in a day. It was his triumph to return heavily laden, and +to go forth again with three or four soldiers, or half-a-dozen servants +(whichever could best be spared), to gather up from the hill-sides the +fallen game, which he had covered with branches of trees, to keep off +hawk and vulture. It was triumph to point out to his aides spot after +spot where the bird of prey hovered, seeking in vain for a space on +which to pounce. Amidst these triumphs, Juste was almost satisfied not +to be at the Plateau. + +Perhaps the heaviest heart among all that household, scarcely excepting +Genifrede's, was Madame L'Ouverture's; and yet her chief companionship, +strangely enough, was with the one who carried the lightest--Euphrosyne. +It was not exactly settled whether Madame L'Ouverture or Madame Pascal +was hostess; and they therefore divided the onerous duties of the +office; and Euphrosyne was their handmaid, charmed to be with those she +loved best--charmed to be busy in new ways--charmed to hear, from time +to time, that she was useful. She useful to the Ouvertures! It was an +honour--it was an exquisite pleasure. She was perhaps the first white +lady in the island, out of the convent, who had gathered fruits, +prepared vegetables, and made sweet dishes with her own hands. Morning +after morning the three ladies spent together in domestic occupations, +finding that the servants, numerous as they were, could not get through +the whole work of hospitality to such a household. Morning after +morning they spent in the shaded store-room, amidst the fragrance of +fruits and spices. Here the unhappy mother, the anxious wife, opened +her heart to the young people; and they consoled and ministered to her +as daughters. + +"If you are not my daughters," said she, on one of these mornings, "I +have none." + +"But you will have: they will return to you," said Afra. "Think of them +as you did of your sons, when they were at Paris--as absent for a while +to gain experience, and sure to return. You will find one of them, +perhaps both, as happy on your bosom hereafter as we see your Placide by +his father's side." + +"How can you say so, Afra? Which of my girls will ever come to me +again, as they did at Breda?" + +"Genifrede is better," said Euphrosyne; "better since we came here-- +better every day: and I should wonder if she were not. No one can long +be sullen here." + +"Do not be hard, Euphrosyne, my love--`Sullen' is a hard word for my +poor, unhappy child." + +"Nay, madam; no one can be more sorry for her than I am; as you will +find, if you ask Father Gabriel. He will tell you how angry I was with +L'Ouverture, how cruel I thought him on that dreadful day. But now, in +these stirring times, when our whole world, our little world in the +middle of the sea, is to be destroyed, or made free and glorious for +ever, I do think it is being sullen to mope on the mountain as she does, +and speak to nobody, care for nobody, but the Dessalines. However, I +would not say a word about it, if I were not sure that she is getting +better. And if she were growing worse, instead of better, there is +nothing that I would not do to help or console her, though I must still +think her sullen--not only towards her father here, but--" + +And Euphrosyne crossed herself. + +"It is hard," sighed Madame L'Ouverture; "it is hard to do all one +ought, even in the serious hours of one's prayers. I do try, with my +husband's help, when he is here, and from the thought of him when he is +absent, to pray, as he desires, for our enemies. But it generally ends +(God forgive me!) in my praying that Bonaparte may be held back from the +work of estranging our children from us." + +"It can only be for a time," said Afra, again. She could think of no +other consolation. + +"Those who know best say that everything is for good," continued Margot. +"If so, I wonder whether anyone can foretell what can be the good of a +stranger, a man that we have never seen, and who has everything about +him to make him great, thrusting himself between us and our children, to +take their hearts from us. I asked L'Ouverture to foretell to me how +this would be explained; and he put his hand upon my month, and asked me +to kneel down, and pray with him that we might have patience to wait +God's own time." + +"And could you do so?" asked Euphrosyne, with brimming eyes. + +"I did: but I added a prayer that Bonaparte might be moved to leave us +the glory and dominion which we value--the duty and the hearts of our +children--and that he might be contented with gaining the homage of the +French nation, and grasping the kingdoms of Europe." + +"I think God will hear that prayer," said Afra, cheerfully. + +"And I am sure Bonaparte will thank you for it," said Euphrosyne, "in +that day when hearts will be known, and things seen as they are." + +"One might expect," sighed Madame L'Ouverture, "as one's children grow +up, that they should go mad for love; but I never thought of such a +thing as their going mad for loyalty." + +"Do you think it is for loyalty?" asked Euphrosyne. "I should call +Placide the most loyal of your children; and, next to him, Denis." + +"They think they are loyal and patriotic, my dear. I am sure I hope +they will go on to think so; for it is the best excuse for them." + +"I wish I had a magic glass," said Euphrosyne-- + +"My dear, do not wish any such thing. It is very dangerous and wicked +to have anything to do with that kind of people. I could tell you such +a story of poor Moyse (and of many other unhappy persons, too) as would +show you the mischief of meddling with charms, Euphrosyne." + +"Do not be afraid, dear madam. I was not thinking of any witchcraft; +but only wishing your children the bright mirror of a clear and settled +mind. I think such a mirror would show them that what they take for +loyalty and patriotism in their own feelings and conduct, is no more +loyalty and patriotism than the dancing lights in our rice-grounds are +stars." + +"What is it, my dear, do you think?" + +"I think it is weakness, remaining from their former condition. When +people are reared in humiliation, there will be weakness left behind. +Loyal minds must call Bonaparte's conduct to L'Ouverture vulgar. Those +who admire it, it seems to me, either have been, or are ready to be, +slaves." + +"One may pity rather than blame the first," said Afra; "but I do not +pretend to have any patience with the last. I pity our poor faithless +generals here, and dear Aimee, with her mind so perplexed, and her +struggling heart; but I have no toleration for Leclerc and Rochambeau, +and the whole train of Bonaparte's worshippers in France." + +"They are not like your husband, indeed, Afra." + +"And they might all have been as right as he. They might all have known +as well as he, what L'Ouverture is, and what he has done. Why do they +not know that he might long ago have been a king? Why do they not tell +one another that his throne might, at this day, have been visited by +ambassadors from all the nations, but for his loyalty to France? Why do +they not see, as my husband does, that it is for want of personal +ambition that L'Ouverture is now an outlaw in the mornes, instead of +being hand-in-hand, as a brother king, with George of England? They +might have known whom to honour and whom to restrain, as my husband +does, if they had had his clearness of soul, and his love of freedom." + +"And because they have not," said Euphrosyne, "they are lost in +amazement at his devotion to a negro outlaw. Do not shrink, dear madam, +from those words. If they were meant in anything but honour they would +not be spoken before you. Afra and I feel that to be the First of the +Blacks is now to be the greatest man in the world; and that to be an +outlaw in the mornes, in the cause of a redeemed race, is a higher glory +than to be the conqueror of Europe. Do we not, Afra?" + +"Assuredly we do." + +"They will soon learn whom they have to deal with in this outlaw," said +Madame. "I can tell you, my dears, that Rochambeau is drawing near us, +and that there is likely soon to be a battle. Heigho!" + +"Is that bad news or good?" asked Euphrosyne. + +"My husband means it for good news, my dear--at least, if Maurepas +arrives from the south as soon as Rochambeau from the north." + +"I wish Maurepas would come!" sighed Afra. Madame L'Ouverture went on-- + +"It has been a great mortification to my husband that there has been no +fair battle yet. His people--those who are faithful--have had no +opportunity of showing how they feel, and what they can do. The French +have been busy spying, and bribing, and cajoling, and pretending to +negotiate; and the one thing they will not do is fighting. But I tell +you, my dears, the battle-day is coming on now. Heigho!" + +There was a pause; after which Euphrosyne said-- + +"I suppose we shall hear the battle." + +There was another pause, during which Madame's tears were dropping into +her lap. Afra wondered how General Dessalines would bear to hear the +firing from his chamber, so near, and be unable to help. + +"That puts me in mind," said Madame, rising hurriedly--"how could I +forget? It was the very reason why my husband told me that Rochambeau +was so near. We must prepare for the wounded, my dears. They will be +sent up here--as many as the house will hold, and the tents which my +husband is sending up. We must be making lint, my dears, and preparing +bandages. My husband has provided simples, and Madame Dessalines will +tell us--Oh dear! what was I about to forget all this!" + +"Do not hurry yourself, dear madam," said Afra. "We will take care that +everything is done. With Madame Dessalines to direct us, we shall be +quite prepared. Do not hurry yourself so, I dare say Rochambeau is not +at hand at this moment." + +At the very next moment, however, Euphrosyne's countenance showed that +she was by no means certain of this. Madame L'Ouverture stood still to +listen, in her agitated walk about the room. There were distant shouts +heard, and a bustle and buzz of voices, within and about the house, +which made Euphrosyne empty her lap of the shaddocks she was peeling, +and run out for news. + +"Joy! Joy!" she cried, returning. "Maurepas is coming. We can see his +march from the station. His army has crossed the river. Make haste, +Afra. Dear madam, will you go with me to the station?" + +"No, my love," said Madame, sitting down, trembling. + +"We can go as slowly as you like. There is plenty of time. You need +not hurry; and it will be a glorious sight." + +"No, my dear. Do you young people go. But, Euphrosyne, are you quite +sure it is not Rochambeau?" + +"Oh, dear, yes! quite certain. They come from the south, and have +crossed the Artibonite; they come from the very point they ought to come +from. It is good news, you may rely upon it; the best possible news." + +"I am thankful," said Madame, in a low, sad voice. "Go, my dears. Go, +and see what you can." + +All who could leave the house, or the post of duty--that is, all but the +two prisoners, the sentries, and Madame--were at the station, or on +their way to it. The first notice had been given, it appeared, by some +huntsmen who had brought in game. + +"My boys!" said Madame Bellair, "what a pity they should miss this +sight! only that, I suppose, we could not keep Juste within bounds. He +would be off to the camp before we could stop him. It may be a +fortunate chance that he is on the northern hills instead of the +southern, to-day; but I am sorry for my little Tobie. Whereabouts are +they, I wonder. Has any one seen them within these two hours?" + +The hunters had parted with the boys in the valley, at sunrise, when +they said they should seek fish and fowl to-day, in the logwood grove +and the pond above it, as there were hunters enough out upon the hills. + +"If they are really no farther off than that," said their mother, "they +may hear us, and come for their share of the sight. You walk well, +General Dessalines." + +Dessalines declared himself well. The rumour of war was the tonic he +needed. Even at this distance, it had done more for him than all +Therese's medicines in a month. Therese saw that it was indeed so; and +that he would lie at the Plateaux now before the enemy. + +"Look at General Vincent," whispered Madame Pascal to her husband, on +whose arm she was leaning, as all stood on the height, anxiously gazing +at the road, which wound like a yellow thread across the plain, and +round the base of the hills. The troops were now hidden by a hanging +wood; so that Afra rested her strained eyes for a moment, and happened +to notice Vincent's countenance. "Look, do look, at General Vincent!" + +Her husband shook his head, and said that was what he was then thinking +of. Dessalines and his wife were similarly occupied; and they and the +Pascals communicated with each other by glances. + +"What is the matter, Vincent," asked Dessalines, outright. "Here are +the long-expected come at last; and you look as gloomily upon them as if +they were all France." + +"I am not such a man of blood as you, Dessalines. I have never given up +the hope of accommodation and peace. It is strange, when the great men +on both sides profess such a desire for peace, that we must see this +breach made, nobody can tell why." + +"Why, my good fellow!" exclaimed Dessalines, staring into his face, +"surely you are talking in your sleep! The heats put you to sleep last +summer, and you are not awake yet. You know nothing that has been done +since December, I do believe. Come! let me tell you, as little Tobie is +not here to do it." + +"Don't, love," said Therese, pressing her husband's arm. "No disputes +to-day, Jacques! The times are too serious." + +"At another time, General," said Vincent, "I will instruct you a little +in my opinions, formed when my eyes were wide open in France; which +yours have never been." + +"There they are! There they come from behind the wood, if we could but +see them for the dust!" exclaimed some. + +"Oh, this dust! we can see nothing!" cried others. "Who can give a +guess how many they are?" + +"It is impossible," said Bellair. "Without previous knowledge, one +could not tell them from droves of bullocks and goats going to market at +Saint Marc." + +"Except for their caps," said Euphrosyne. "I see a dozen or two of +feathers through the crowd. Do not you, Afra?" + +"Yes, but where is their music? We should hear something of it here, +surely." + +"Yes, it is a dumb march," said Dessalines, "at present. They will +strike up when they have turned the shoulder of that hill, no doubt. +There! now listen!" + +All listened, so that the brook, half a mile behind, made its babbling +heard, but there was not a breath of music. + +"Is it possible that Rochambeau should be in the way," asked Therese. + +"He cannot be in the way," said her husband, "for where I stand, I +command every foot of the road, up to our posts; but he may be nearer +than we thought. I conclude that he is." + +"Look! See!" cried several. "They are taking another road. Where are +they going! General Dessalines, what does it mean?" + +"I would thank anyone to tell me that it is not as I fear," replied +Dessalines. "I fear Maurepas is effecting a junction, not with us, but +with some one else." + +"With Rochambeau!" + +"Traitor!" + +"The traitor Maurepas!" + +"His head!" + +"Our all for his head!" cried the enraged gazers, as they saw Maurepas +indeed diverging from the road to the post, and a large body of French +troops turning a reach of the same road, from behind a hill. The two +clouds of dust met. And now there was no more silence, but sound enough +from below and afar. There was evidently clamour and rage among the +troops in the Plateaux; and bursts of music from the army of their foes, +triumphant and insulting, swelled the breeze. + +"Our all for the head of Maurepas!" cried the group again. + +"Nay," said Vincent, "leave Maurepas his head. Who knows but that peace +may come out of it? If all had done as he has now done, there could be +no war." + +"In the same way," exclaimed Pascal, "as if all of your colour thought +as you do, there would then be no war, because there would be no men to +fight; but only slaves to walk quietly under the yoke." + +"Be as angry as you will," said Vincent, in a low voice to Pascal. "No +one's anger can alter the truth. It is impious and vain, here as +elsewhere, to oppose Bonaparte. L'Ouverture will have to yield; you +know that as well as I do, Monsieur Pascal; and those are the best +friends of the blacks who help to render war impossible, and who bring +the affair to a close while the First Consul may yet be placable." + +"Has that opinion of yours been offered to your Commander, Vincent?" + +"It would have been, if he had asked for it. He probably knows that I +had rather have seen him high in honour and function under Leclerc, than +an outlaw, entrenched in the mornes." + +"Then why are you here?" + +"I am here to protect those who cannot protect themselves, in these +rough times. I am here to guard these ladies against all foes, come +they whence they may,--from France, or out of our own savannahs,--from +earth, air, or sea.--But hark! Silence, ladies! Silence all, for a +moment!" + +They listened, ready to take alarm from him, they knew not why. Nothing +was heard but the distant baying of hounds,--the hunters coming home as +it was supposed. + +"Those are not Saint Domingo hounds," said Vincent, in a low voice to +Dessalines. + +"No, indeed!--Home, all of you! Run for your lives! No questions, but +run! Therese, leave me! I command you.--If this is your doing, +Vincent--" + +"Upon my soul, it is not. I know nothing about it.--Home, ladies, as +fast as possible!" + +"My children!" exclaimed Madame Bellair. "I can find them, if you will +only tell me the danger,--what is the danger?" + +"You hear those hounds. They are Cuba bloodhounds," said Dessalines. +"The fear is that they are leading an enemy over the hills." + +Not a word more was necessary. Every one fled who could, except +Therese, who would not go faster than her husband's strength permitted +him to proceed. The voice of the hounds, and the tramp of horses' feet +were apparently so near, before they could reach the first sentry, that +both were glad to see Pascal hurrying towards them, with two soldiers, +who carried Dessalines to the house, while Pascal and Therese ran for +their lives,--she striving to thank her companion for remembering to +bring this aid. + +"No thanks!" said Pascal. "General Dessalines is our great man now. We +cannot do without him. Here is to be a siege,--a French troop has come +over by some unsuspected pass;--I do not understand it." + +"Have you sent to the Plateaux?" + +"Of course, instantly; but our messengers will probably be intercepted, +though we have spared three men, to try three different paths. If +L'Ouverture learns our condition, it will be by the firing." + +Some of the sportsmen had brought in from the hills the news of the +presence of an enemy in the morne--not, apparently, on their way to the +plantation, but engaged in some search among the hills. Others spoke +tidings which would not have been told for hours but for the +determination of Madame Bellair to set out in search of her children, +whatever foe might be in the path. It became necessary to relate that +it was too late to save her children. They had been seen lying in a +track of the wood, torn in pieces by the bloodhounds, whose cry was +heard now close at hand. Though there was no one who would at first +undertake to tell the mother this, there were none who, in the end, +could conceal it from her. They need not have feared that their work of +defence would be impeded by her waitings and tears. There was not a +cry; there was not a tear. Those who dared to look in her face saw that +the fires of vengeance were consuming all that was womanish in Deesha's +nature. She was the soldier to whom, under Dessalines, the successful +defence of Le Zephyr was mainly owing. Dessalines gave the orders, and +superintended the arrangements, which she, with a frantic courage, +executed. From that hour to the day when she and her husband expired in +tortures, the forces of the First Consul had no more vindictive and +mischievous enemy than the wife of Charles Bellair. Never propitiated, +and long unsubdued, Charles Bellair and his wife lived henceforth in the +fastnesses of the interior; and never for a day desisted from harassing +the foe, and laying low every Frenchman on whom a sleepless, and +apparently ubiquitous vengeance, could fix its grasp. + +Deesha was not the only woman who seemed to bear a foeman's soul. +Therese looked as few had seen her look before; and, busy as was her +husband with his arrangements for the defence of the house, he could not +but smile in the face which expressed so much. To her, and any +companions she could find among the women, was confided the charge of +Sabes and Martin, who, locked into a room whence they must hear the +firing of their comrades outside, could not be supposed likely to make a +desperate attempt to escape. Therese answered for their detention, if +she had arms for herself and two companions. Whoever these heroines +might be, the prisoners were found safe, after the French had decamped. + +There were doubts which, at any other time, would have needed +deliberation. It was a doubt, for a moment, whether to imprison +Vincent, whose good faith was now extremely questionable: but there was +no one to guard him; and his surprise and concern were evidently so +real, and his activity was so great in preparing for defence, that there +seemed nothing for it but trusting him to protect the women who were +under his charge. Dessalines, however, kept his eye upon him, and his +piece in readiness to shoot him down, on the first evidence of +treachery. + +Another doubt was as to the foe they had to contend against. How they +got into the morne, and why such an approach was made to an object so +important as securing a party of hostages like these; whether, if +Vincent had nothing to do with it, the spies had; and whether, +therefore, more attacks might not be looked for, were questions which +passed through many minds, but to which no consideration could now be +given. Here were the foe; and they must be kept off. + +The struggle was short and sharp. Small as was the force without, it +far outnumbered that of the fighting men in what had been supposed the +secure retreat of Le Zephyr; and there is no saying but that the ladies +might have found themselves at length on Tortuga, and in the presence of +Bonaparte's sister, if the firing had not reached the watchful ear of +L'Ouverture at the Plateaux, on the way to which all the three +messengers had been captured. Toussaint arrived with a troop, in time +to deliver his household. After his first onset, the enemy retreated; +at first carrying away some prisoners, but dropping them on their road, +one after another, as they were more and more hardly pressed by +L'Ouverture, till the few survivors were glad to escape as they could, +by the way they came. + +Toussaint returned, his soldiers bringing in the mangled bodies of the +two boys. When he inquired what loss had been sustained, he found that +three, besides the children, were killed; and that Vincent was the only +prisoner, besides the three messengers turned back in the morne. + +"Never was there a more willing prisoner, in my opinion," observed +Pascal. + +"He carries away a mark from us, thank Heaven!" said Dessalines. +"Madame Bellair shot him." + +It was so. Deesha saw Vincent join the French, and go off with them, on +the arrival of L'Ouverture; and, partly through revenge, but not without +a thought of the disclosures it was in his power to make, she strove to +silence him for ever. She only reached a limb, however, and sent him +away, as Dessalines said, bearing a mark from Le Zephyr. + +One of the French troop, made prisoner, was as communicative as could +have been desired--as much so as Vincent would probably be on the other +side. He declared that the attack on Le Zephyr was a mere accident: +that his company had entered the morne, led by the bloodhounds in +pursuit of some negroes, from whom they wanted certain information for +Rochambeau, respecting the localities; that they had thus become +acquainted with the almost impracticable pass by which they had entered; +that, when the hounds had destroyed the children, and proved that there +were inhabitants in the morne, the situation of Le Zephyr had been +discovered, and afterwards the rank of its inhabitants; that the +temptation of carrying off these hostages to Rochambeau had been too +strong to be resisted; and hence the attack. + +"We shall have to remove," the ladies said to each other, "now that our +retreat is known." + +"Shall we have to remove?" asked Euphrosyne, whose love of the place +could not be quenched, even by the blood upon its threshold. "I am not +afraid to stay, if any one else will." + +"How can you be so rash, Euphrosyne?" asked Afra. + +"I would not be rash, Euphrosyne replied; but we know now how these +people came into the morne, and L'Ouverture will guard the pass. And +remember, Afra, we have beaten them; and they will take care how they +attack us another time. Remember, we have beaten them." + +"We have beaten them," said Dessalines, laughing. "And what did you do +to beat off the French, my little lady?" + +"I watched the prisoners through the keyhole; and if they had made the +least attempt to set the house on fire--" + +"You would have put it out with your tears--hey, Mademoiselle +Euphrosyne?" + +"Ask Madame, your lady, what she would have done in such a case: she +stood beside me. But does L'Ouverture say we must remove?" + +"L'Ouverture thinks," said Toussaint, who heard her question, "that this +is still the safest place for the brave women who keep up his heart by +their cheerful faces. He is ashamed that they have been negligently +guarded. It shall not happen again." + +He was just departing for the Plateaux. As he went out he said to his +wife, while he cast a look of tender compassion upon Madame Bellair-- + +"I shall tell Charles that you will cherish Deesha. It is well that we +can let her remain here, beside the graves of her children. Bury them +with honour, Margot." + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. + +AUGUST FAR-OFF. + +In time of peace, and if her children had perished by any other mode, it +might have been a consolation to Deesha to dwell for a time beside their +graves. As it was, the deep bark of the murderous dogs filled her ear +perpetually, and their fangs seemed to tear her heart. Her misery in +the quiet mansion of the mornes was unendurable; and the very day after +the funeral she departed, with her husband, to a place where no woman's +eye could mark her maternal anguish--where no semblance of a home kept +alive the sense of desolation. She retired, with her husband and his +troop, to a fastness higher up in the Morne-du-Chaos, whence they kept +watch over the regular entrenchments below, cut off supplies of +provisions from the French, harassed all their marches, and waged a +special war against the bloodhounds--the negro's most dreaded foe. +More, however, were perpetually brought over from Cuba, and regularly +trained, by means too barbarous for detail, to make negroes their prey. +From the hour when Deesha first heard the cry of a bloodhound, more than +the barbarism of her native Congo took possession of her. Never more +was she seen sowing under the shade of the tamarind-tree. Never more +did she spread the table, for husband or guests, within a house. Never +more was her voice heard singing, gaily or plaintively, the songs that +she had gathered from the palm groves of Africa, or the vineyards of +France, or from the flowery fields of a mother's hopes. Henceforth she +carried the rifle, and ate her meal in stern silence, in the cave of the +rock. When she laughed, it was as her shot went straight to her +victim's heart. When she spoke, it was of the manoeuvres of her +mountain war; and the only time that she was ever seen to shed tears was +when a rumour of a truce reached the pinnacle on which she dwelt. +Though assured that any truce could be only, as every negro knew, a +truce till August, the mere semblance of accommodation with the foe +forced tears of vexation from eyes which were for ever after dry. If +she felt a gleam of satisfaction before leaving Le Zephyr, it was at the +singular accident by which Juste, always so bent upon being a soldier, +shared the honours of a military funeral. Juste and Tobie were buried +with the soldiers who had fallen in the defence of the house; and to the +father, who followed the coffins, and the mother, who hid herself in the +thicket, there was something like pleasure in the roll of the drum, and +the measure of the dead march, and the warlike tone of the shrill dirge +which was sung round the open graves, and the discharge of firearms over +them--a satisfaction like that of fulfilling the last wish of their boy. +This done, and the graves fenced and planted, the childless pair +departed, wishing, perhaps, in their own hearts, that they could weep +their misfortune like those whom they left behind. + +For some time forward from that day there was no more cause for weeping +at Le Zephyr. The season had come for the blacks to show what they +could do. In the hope, as he said, of hastening on the peace, Vincent +told all that he knew of the plans and resources of the outlawed chiefs; +and, in consequence, the French at length proceeded to vigorous action, +believing that if they could force the post at the Plateaux, they could +so impoverish and disable the negro leaders as to compel them to become +mere banditti, who might be kept in check by guarding the +mountain-passes. The French force was, therefore, brought up again and +again to the attack, and always in vain. The ill success of the +invaders was, no doubt, partly owing to the distress which overtook +their soldiery whenever they had been a few days absent from their camp +and their ships. Whichever way they turned, and however sudden the +changes of their march, they found the country laid waste--the houses +unroofed, the cattle driven away, the fields burned or inundated, and +nothing but a desert under their feet, and flames on the horizon, while +the sun of the tropic grew daily hotter overhead. These were +disadvantages; but the French had greatly the superiority in numbers, in +experience, and in supplies of ammunition. Yet, for many weeks, they +failed in all their attempts. They left their dead before the entrance +of the Plateaux, or heaped up in the neighbouring fields, or strewed +along the mountain-paths, now to the number of seven hundred, now +twelve, and now fifteen hundred; while the negroes numbered their losses +by tens or scores. The first combined attack, when Maurepas, with his +army, joined Rochambeau, and two other divisions met them from different +points, was decisively disastrous; and even Vincent began to doubt +whether the day of peace, the day of chastisement of L'Ouverture's +romance, was so near as he had supposed. + +The last time that the French dared the blacks to come forth from their +entrenchments, and fight on the plain afforded the most triumphant +result to the negroes. So tremendous was the havoc among the French-- +while the blacks charged without intermission, rolling on their force +from their entrenchments, each advancing line throwing itself upon the +ground immediately after the charge, while those behind passed over +their bodies, enabling them to rise and retreat in order to rush forward +again in their turn--that the troops of the Rhine and the Alps were +seized with a panic, and spread a rumour that there was sorcery among +the blacks, by which they were made invulnerable. It was scarcely +possible, too, to believe in the inferiority of their numbers, so +interminable seemed the succession of foes that presented a fresh front. +Rochambeau saw that, if not ordered to retreat, his troops would fly; +and whether it was a retreat or a flight at last, nobody could +afterwards determine. They left fifteen hundred dead on the field, and +made no pause till they reached Plaisance. + +From this time, the French generals resolved against more fighting, till +reinforcements arrived from France. New hopes inspired the blacks--all +of them, at least, who did not, like L'Ouverture and Christophe, +anticipate another inundation of the foe from the sea. Placide, who was +foremost in every fight, was confident that the struggle was nearly +over, and rode up to Le Zephyr occasionally with tidings which spread +hope and joy among the household, and not only made his mother proud, +but lightened her heart. + +He told, at length, that the French, not relishing the offensive war +begun by Christophe, had blockaded his father in the Plateaux. He +treated this blockade as a mere farce--as a mode of warfare which would +damage the French irreparably as the heats came on, while it could not +injure the blacks, acquainted as they were with the passes of the +country. + +Placide would have been right, if only one single circumstance had been +otherwise than as it was. L'Ouverture had nothing to fear from a +blockade in regard to provisions. He had adherents above, among the +heights, who could supply his forces with food for themselves and fodder +for their horses inexhaustibly. Every ravine in their rear yielded +water. They had arms enough; and in their climate, and with the summer +coming on, the clothing of the troops was a matter of small concern. +But their ammunition was running short. Everything was endeavoured, and +timely, to remedy this; but there was no effectual remedy. Many a +perilous march over the heights, and descent upon the shore, did one and +another troop attempt--many a seizure of French supplies did they +actually effect--many a trip did Paul, and others who had boats, make to +one and another place, where it was hoped that powder and ball might be +obtained; but no sufficient supply could be got. The foe were not slow +in discovering this, and in deriving courage from their discovery. From +the moment that they found themselves assailed with flights of arrows +from the heights, and that their men were wounded, not always with ball, +or even shot, but with buttons, nails, and other bits of old metal--with +anything rather than lead--they kept a closer watch along the coast and +the roads, that no little boat, no cart or pack-horse, might escape +capture. Towards the end of April the difficulty became so pressing, +that L'Ouverture found himself compelled to give up his plan of +defensive war, with all its advantages, and risk much to obtain the +indispensable means of carrying on the struggle. + +It was with this view that he mustered his force, gave out nearly the +last remains of his ammunition, burst victoriously through the +blockading troops, routed them, and advanced to attack the French lines +posted at Plaisance. Behind him he left few but his wounded, commanded +by Dessalines, who was yet hardly sufficiently recovered to undertake a +more arduous service. Before him were the troops under Maurepas, whom +he had always believed he could recall with a word, if he could but meet +them face to face. Others probably believed so too; for those troops +had, on every occasion, been kept back, and so surrounded, as that no +one from their old haunts and their old companions could reach them. +Now, however, the French force was so reduced by the many defeats they +had undergone, that it was probable they would be obliged to put faith +in the renegado division, if attacked; and L'Ouverture was not without +hopes of striking a decisive blow by recalling the negroes in the French +lines to their allegiance to himself. + +Everything answered to his anticipations. When he advanced to the +attack, he found the troops of Maurepas posted in the front, to weaken +the resolution of their former comrades, or receive their first fire. +His heart bounded at the sight; and all his resentment against them as +renegades melted into compassion for the weakness of those who had been +reared in terror and servility. He rushed forward, placing himself, +without a thought of fear, between the two armies, and extended his arms +towards the black lines of the enemy, shouting to them-- + +"My soldiers, will you kill your general? Will you kill your father, +your comrades, your brothers?" + +In an instant every black was on his knees. It was a critical moment +for the French. They rushed on, drowning the single voice on which +their destruction seemed to hang, threw the kneeling soldiers on their +faces, strode over their prostrate bodies, and nearly effected their +object of closing round L'Ouverture, and capturing him. His danger was +imminent. The struggle was desperate;--but his soldiers saved him. The +battle was fierce and long, but again and again turning in his favour, +till all seemed secure. He was forcing the enemy from their lines, and +giving out the inspiring negro cry of victory, when a new force marched +up against him, stopped the retreat of the French, and finally repulsed +the blacks--exhausted as they were, and unable to cope with a fresh foe. +In the most critical moment, four thousand troops, fresh from the ships +had arrived to convert the defeat of the French into a victory; and they +brought into the battle more than their own strength in the news that +reinforcements from France were pouring in upon every point of the +coast. + +The news reached L'Ouverture, and completed the discouragement of his +little army. It decided him at once in what direction to retreat. It +was useless to return to the Plateaux, as the force there was more than +proportioned to the supply of ammunition. This fresh descent of the +French upon the coast would have the effect of dispersing the small +bodies of black troops in the north. A rendezvous was necessary, in +order to make the most both of the men and stores. He proceeded to post +his troops at Le Dondon, and Marmalade, sending orders to Christophe to +meet him there. There they might possibly be usefully employed in +cutting off access to the French army at Plaisance, and at the same time +supplying their own wants, while deliberating on what plan to carry on +the struggle, under the new circumstances, till August; for, whatever +treachery and defection might have to be encountered elsewhere, there +was never a moment's doubt that Nature would prove a faithful ally, when +her appointed season came. + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY THREE. + +CONFLICTING. + +"What to do!" said L'Ouverture to Christophe, as they entered his +apartment at Le Dondon. "What to do? Everything, this year and for the +future, may depend on what we decide on for our next step. And we must +decide before we leave this room, say your thoughts, Henri." + +"I am for a truce." + +"I am for a retreat in the mountains. Now for our reasons! Why do you +desire a truce?" + +"Because I see that Leclerc so earnestly wishes it, that I am confident +we may make good terms, for the interval of waiting till we recover +altogether our power, our territory, and our people. Leclerc will +revoke our outlawry. That done, you will be the virtual rider of our +people till August; after which no foes will be left upon our soil. +What have you to say against this?" + +"That it is yielding, unnecessarily and fatally, to the invaders. Where +are our censures of Clerveaux and Maurepas, if we, too, yield to +Leclerc, and make terms with him?" + +"Every one of our people will understand the difference in the cases. +Every one of them sees the difference between falling at the feet of +Leclerc, like Clerveaux; or joining him on the very field on which you +were about to oppose him, like Maurepas; and making a truce, for a short +interval, when you are almost destitute of ammunition, and the enemy so +exhausted with the heats as to decline coming into the field; while, at +the same time, fresh troops are pouring in upon the coast, in such +numbers as to prevent your regaining your independence by remaining in +arms. If every man of the negroes has not wit enough to understand this +for himself, who is better able than you to inform them of whatsoever +you desire them to know? Be assured, Toussaint, powerful as your +influence is this day among our people, it will be more so when you are +no longer an outlaw. It is worth a large sacrifice of our feelings to +have our outlawry revoked." + +"Have you more reasons to give for accepting a truce; or, as the French +understand it, a peace?" + +"Let me first hear your reasons for a retreat in the mountains." + +"A retreat in the mountains is the more honest proceeding of the two, +Henri. If we make terms with the French, it will be knowing that that +which goes by the name of peace is no more than a truce till August." + +"And will not they know that as well as we? Is it necessary to tell the +whites, at this day, that they are liable to the fever in the heats, and +that any army, however glorious in its strength previously, becomes a +skeleton at that season? This is a matter that is perfectly understood +by all the parties." + +"We must look forward, Henri, to the days to come, when August itself is +past. The influence of myself or my successor will be injured by my +having, even apparently, yielded to the invaders. My power over our +people's minds will be immeasurably greater, if I shall have +consistently refused to tolerate the foe, from the moment of their first +hostile act to the end of the struggle. Am I not right?" + +"That character of consistency will be purchased at a price too dear;-- +at the cost of your characteristic of mercy, Toussaint--of reverence for +human life. You will be ranked with Dessalines, if you keep up, for +four months, the disturbance and devastation of war, when every one +knows that your end will be as certainly gained after these four months +have been spent in peace. What a grief it would be to see you changed +in all eyes from the adored L'Ouverture to Toussaint the bandit! Pardon +my freedom." + +"I required it of you, my friend; so do not speak of pardon. We are +agreed that the moral influence of my conduct is the main consideration, +as the destruction of the French army is certain, sooner or later--our +independence secure, if we so will it. If we remain in the mountains, +cutting off in detail the grasp which France shall attempt to lay on any +part of our territory or our system; training our people, meantime, for +another campaign, if France should attempt another; replenishing +gradually our stores with perpetual small captures from the enemy, +allowing them no asylum, discountenancing their presence, in every +possible way--we shall be taking the shortest, and therefore the most +merciful method of convincing the French and the blacks at once that +their empire here is at an end, and slavery henceforth impossible for +the negroes of Saint Domingo. But, if I make a peace or truce, how dim +and perplexed will be the impression of my conduct! I cannot hold +office, civil or military, under the French. Henri, you would not have +me do so!" + +"Certainly not. Till August, retire to your estate, that every office +in the colony may thereafter be in your hand." + +"If I co-operate with the French, even in the faintest appearance, my +moral influence will be all on their side, and a second year of warfare +will find us farther from peace or independence than the first. If I +act, more or less, for the blacks, Leclerc will send me to France as a +traitor. If I do nothing, neither party will believe in my doing +nothing: each will suspect me of secret dealings with the other. It is +also true that I cannot, if I would, be inoperative. Every glance of my +eye, every word of my lips, in my own piazza at Pongaudin, would be made +to bear its interpretation, and go to disturb the single and distinct +image which I now stand before every eye and in every mind." + +"I do not agree with you," said Henri. "While the image of August is +distinct in the minds of the Saint Domingo people, it will keep your +influence single and intelligible to them. As for what the French +think, that is their own affair. They have the means of knowledge. Let +them use them. There is one fact which no one can misunderstand, the +while--that after the defections under which you have suffered, and +under your known want of military stores, an incursive war from the +mountains appears ferocious--both revengeful and cruel--when every one +knows that time will render it unnecessary." + +"These defections do not discourage me as they do you, Henri. Full one +third of my forces are faithful--are proved so by trial. These, with +the goodness of our cause, are enough for my hopes--almost for my +desires. There is no ferocity, but rather mercy, in hastening on the +day of our independence and peace, by using a force so respectable--so +honoured, as this tried remnant of my army." + +"You reckon fallaciously, Toussaint. You include my troops in the force +you speak of." + +"Henri!" exclaimed L'Ouverture, stopping in his walk up the apartment; +"it cannot be that you will desert me. No, no! forgive me that the +words passed my lips!" + +"Never will I desert you or our cause, Toussaint. Never will I intermit +my enmity to our invaders; never will I live for any other object than +the liberties of our people. But the time may be come for us to pursue +our common object by different paths. I cannot go and play the bandit +in the mountains." + +"Why did you not call me a bandit when I was at the Plateaux?" + +"Because you were then waging an honourable war. War, not peace, was +then beckoning you on to freedom. A state of voluntary outlawry, a +practice of needless ravage, will make a different man of you. Say no +more of it, Toussaint: I cannot be lieutenant to--Do not make me utter +the word." + +"You have always hitherto obeyed me, Henri." + +"I have; and when _we_ are in a state of war, I will obey you again. Do +not class me with La Plume and Clerveaux--or, rather, do, if you will, +and when August is past I will prove to you the difference." + +"Do not you see, Henri, that you not only cease to aid me at a great +crisis but that you put a force upon me?" + +"I cannot help it; I must do so, rather than go and be a butcher in the +mornes with Dessalines." + +"Say with me, too: call me a butcher, too! After the long years that +you have known my heart, call me a butcher too." + +"Let us talk sense, Toussaint: this is no time for trifling. After +August, I shall join you again--to fight, if it be necessary: but I hope +it will not." + +"Not if heaven strengthens me to do my work without you, Christophe. +After the fever, it is much for the sick to walk: we do not expect the +dead to rise." + +"When I join you, after August," resumed Christophe, "whether for the +labours of war or peace, you, and perhaps even Jacques, will wish that +your hands were as clean from blood as mine. Your thought, Toussaint!-- +tell me your thought. If--" + +"I was thinking that you _will_ join us, Henri. You _will_ labour till +our great work is done. You may err; and you may injure our cause by +your error; but you will never be seduced from the rectitude of your own +intentions. That is what I was thinking. I would fain keep my judgment +of you undisturbed by a grieving heart." + +"You are more than generous, Toussaint: you are just. I was neither. +Pardon me. But I am unhappy--I am wretched that you are about to +forfeit your greatness, when--Oh, Toussaint! nothing should ever grieve +me again, if we could but agree to-day--if I could but see you retire, +with your wonted magnanimity, to Pongaudin, there, with your wonted +piety, to await the leadings from above. Where is your wonted faith, +that you do not see them now, through the clouds that are about us?" + +"I cannot but see them now," said Toussaint, sighing; "and to see is to +follow. If you are wholly resolved to make a truce for yourself and +your division--" + +"I am wholly resolved to do so." + +"Then you compel me to do the same. Without you, I have not force +sufficient to maintain an effectual resistance." + +"Thank God! then we shall see you again L'Ouverture, and no longer +Toussaint, the outlaw. You will--" + +"Hear me, Henri! You put this constraint upon me. What are you +prepared to do, if the French prove treacherous, after our peace is +made?" + +"To drive them into the sea, to be sure. You do not suppose I shall +regard them as friends the more for making a truce with them! We will +keep our eyes upon them. We will preserve an understanding with the +whole island, as to the vigilance which the blacks must exercise, day +and night, over their invaders. The first treacherous thought in +Leclerc's mind is a breach of the truce; and dearly shall he rue it." + +"This is all well-planned, Henri. If the cunning of Leclerc proves +deeper than yours--" + +"Say ours, Toussaint." + +"No. I have no part in this arrangement. I act under your compulsion, +and under my own protest; as I require of you, Henri, to remember. If +we are not deep enough, vigilant enough, active enough, for Leclerc and +his council--if he injures us before August, and Bonaparte ordains a +second campaign after it, are you ready to endure the responsibility of +whatever may befall?" + +"I am." + +"Have you looked well forward into the future, and detected every +mischief that may arise from our present temporising, and resolved that +it was a less evil than losing the rest of this season, putting a +compulsion upon your best friend, and fettering the deliverer of your +people?" + +"I have so looked forward--repudiating the charge of undutiful +compulsion. I act for myself, and those under my command." + +"Virtually compelling me to act with you, by reducing me from being the +General of an army to be the leader of a troop; and by exposing our +cause to the peril--the greatest of all--of a declared division between +you and me. I yield, Christophe; but what I am going to do, I do under +protest. Order in the French prisoners." + +"Yet one moment," said Henri. "Let me reason with you a little further. +Be satisfied of the goodness of the act before you do it." + +"I do not need satisfaction on that. I do not quarrel with the terms we +are to make. I do not protest against any of the provisions of the +treaty. I protest against the necessity of treating. Summon the +prisoners." + +"Can you," said Christophe, still delaying, "can you improve upon the +terms proposed? Can the conditions be altered, so as to give more +satisfaction to your superior foresight? I would not use flattering +terms at this moment, Toussaint; you know I would not. But your +sagacity is greater than mine, or any one's. I distrust myself about +the terms of the treaty, I assure you." + +"About anything more than the mere terms of the treaty?" asked +Toussaint, again stopping in his walk. + +"About the conditions--and about the conditions only." + +"Your self-distrust is misplaced, and comes too late. Order the +prisoners to be brought in." + +As Sabes and Martin entered, L'Ouverture and Christophe renewed, by a +glance, their agreement to speak and act with the utmost apparent +sameness of views and intentions. It was but a poor substitute for the +real coincidence which had always hitherto existed; but it was all that +was now possible. + +"I am going to send you back to your Captain-General, gentlemen," said +Toussaint. + +"Not without apology, I trust," said Sabes, "for having subjected to +such treatment as we have undergone, messengers sent to parley--bearing +actually the necessary credentials from the Captain-General. For nine +weeks have my companion and I been dragged from place to place, wherever +it suited your purposes to go, in perpetual fear for our lives." + +"I am sorry you have trembled for your lives, gentlemen," replied +Toussaint. "It was an unnecessary suffering, as I gave you my word, on +your capture, that your persons were safe. Considering that you were +found crouching among the ferns, within hearing of my private +conversation with my son respecting the affairs of the war, I think your +complaints of your detention unreasonable; and I have no apology to +make, on that ground, either to yourselves or your commander. I cannot +hear another word of complaint, gentlemen. You know well that by any +general in Europe you would, under similar circumstances, have been +hanged as spies. Now to public business. I am about to send you to +General Leclerc, with proposals from General Christophe and myself to +bring this painful war to an end, according to the desire of the heads +of both armies. We all know such to be the wish of the +Captain-General." + +"No doubt. It was never his desire, nor that of any true Frenchman," +said Sabes, "to be at war on the soil of this colony. You alone, +General Toussaint, are responsible for the loss of lives, and all the +other miseries which it has occasioned." + +"How so? Let him say on, Lieutenant Martin. No one suffers by speaking +his thoughts to me, be they what they may. On what consideration is it +possible to impute this war to me?" + +"It would never have broken out if you had not despised the authority, +and thrown off the control, of the mother-country. This view cannot be +new to you, General Toussaint," continued Sabes, on seeing the look of +amazement with which L'Ouverture turned to Christophe. + +"Indeed it is," replied Toussaint. "The charge is as unexpected as it +is untrue. You, sir," he said, appealing to Lieutenant Martin, "are a +naval officer. Tell me how you would act in such a case as this. +Suppose you commanded a vessel of the state, authorised and approved in +your office? suppose another officer came--without notice, without your +having heard a word of complaint--and leaped upon your deck, with a crew +double the number of your own, striking down and fettering your men. If +you resisted their violence in such a case, successfully or +unsuccessfully, would you admit that you were the cause of the +struggle--that you despised the government under which you held your +command--that you threw off the control of your superiors?" + +There was a pause. + +"Such is my case," said Toussaint; "and thus you must represent it, if +you be men of honour. The purport of my letter to the Captain-General +(which will be ready by the time you are prepared for your journey), is +to declare the willingness of General Christophe and myself to +negotiate, as the continuation of the war, under the circumstances which +have arisen, appears to be without object. The terms which we require, +and which it is supposed General Leclerc will agree to, are an amnesty +for all who have ever fought, or otherwise acted, under our command; and +the preservation of the rank of all black officers, civil and military. +My friend Christophe and I will retire to our estates, to pray for the +peace and welfare of the colony--the peace and welfare which have, +notwithstanding our prayers, been so unhappily broken up. Gentlemen, +there can be little doubt that the Captain-General will agree to these +terms of pacification." + +"We cannot answer for his replies," said Martin. "Our representations +shall be faithful." + +"I doubt it not," said Toussaint, "after experiencing your companion's +courage and fidelity in rebuke; for which, though he is mistaken in +fact, I honour him. Nor can I doubt the readiness of the +Captain-General to treat with us on the terms I shall propose; for he +must know that I shall always, among my native fastnesses, be strong to +burn, ravage, and destroy. He must know, that though my negroes may be +conquered, they will never more be subdued; and that, entrenched in the +mornes, they can always effectually prevent an unfriendly settlement of +the island. He must know that I am open to generous treatment; but +otherwise ready and able to sell dearly a life which has done our +country some service." + +The French officers assented; but waited, as if to hear something more, +besides Christophe's declaration, for his own part, of agreement in what +L'Ouverture had said. + +Sabes at length spoke, not without another cautionary sign from his +companion. + +"Your generous frankness, General Toussaint," said he, "induces me to +remind you of one more duty which, in case of the desired pacification, +you will owe to the Captain-General. You will hold yourself indebted to +France for all such treasure as, in an hour of alarm, you may have +chosen to conceal." + +"What does this mean?" said Toussaint. "General Christophe, do you know +of any public treasure being concealed in any part of the island?" + +"None," said Christophe, "public or private." + +"Nor do I. You hear, gentlemen." + +"You forget, General Toussaint, what we heard on the occasion of our +capture." + +"You forget your own words to us," said Lieutenant Martin--"that we had +seen and heard too much for you to let us go." + +"I remember my words perfectly; and that they referred to my choice of a +post in the mornes, and a retreat for my family--affairs long since made +public enough. What else do you suppose you saw and heard? If I spoke +of depositing my treasures in the mornes, I was doubtless speaking of my +household. Did you understand me to mean gold and silver? What was it +that you suppose you saw and heard?" + +"We saw new-made graves, and the tools that dug them, after having heard +shots." + +"You are welcome to dig upon the Plateaux, and to take whatever treasure +you may find. You will find only the bones of the brave who fell in +attacking and defending the post." + +"And of those who, being there, can tell no tales. You forget that we +heard their death-shots before we saw their graves. The time is come +for you to tell the secret that you buried with them." + +Christophe rarely laughed; but he laughed now. + +"They believe," said he--"apparently they believe--that you hid treasure +in the morne, and then shot and buried the servants employed." + +"We do," said the officers, gravely. + +"Were you really about to carry this story to the Captain-general?" +asked Toussaint, smiling. "Tell him that the wealth of the colony, +sufficient for the desires of its inhabitants, is dispersed through all +its dwellings, to be enjoyed--not hidden by avarice, and sealed with +blood." + +"We are too well informed," said Sabes, "concerning the wealth and +splendour of the colony to believe that any part of its treasure has met +our eyes that can be concealed. Duty to France now requires that she +should be put in possession of the whole wealth of the island." + +"Let France cultivate an honourable peace," said Toussaint, "and her +authorities will assuredly see the wealth of the colony spread over all +its fields, and amassed in every harbour. We can then present an +overflowing public treasury. That is all I have to offer: and it ought +to be enough." + +Sabes did not press the point further, because he saw it would be +useless. But he and his companion were more and more persuaded of the +truth of their notion of what they had seen and heard, the more they +recalled the tales told at the Court of France of the plate, the gems, +the bullion and coin, and the personal ornaments which abounded, even in +the prosperous days of the old emigrants. Every one knew, too, that the +colony had been more prosperous than ever since. It is not known by +whom the amount of the hidden treasure was, at length, fixed at +thirty-two millions of francs. Sabes and Martin simply told their story +and their ideas to Leclerc, adding the information that Toussaint +L'Ouverture was an adept in dissimulation; that they had as nearly as +possible been deprived of this piece of insight, by the apparent +frankness and candour of his manners; and that, but for the boldness of +Sabes in pressing the affair of the buried treasure, they should +actually have quitted the negro chief, after an occasional intercourse +of nine weeks, without any knowledge of that power of dissimulation +which had been formerly attributed to him by those who, it now appeared, +knew him well, and which must be the guiding fact in all the +Captain-General's dealings with him. His cunning must be met by all the +cunning that Leclerc's united council could muster, or destruction would +lurk under the pretended pacification. Accordingly, the whole of +Leclerc's policy henceforth proceeded on the supposed fact of Toussaint +L'Ouverture being the prince of dissemblers. + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR. + +RECEDING. + +Leclerc was eager to receive proposals of peace,--to owe a respite to +dissimulation itself, rather than continue the war, under his present +difficulties. It was weary work, keeping up a show before the eyes of +the blacks, when, of the twelve thousand soldiers whom he had brought +with him, five thousand had fallen in battle, and five thousand more +were in the hospitals. Twenty thousand had arrived within a few weeks, +from France; and, of these, scarcely eleven thousand remained fit for +service. Happy indeed was Leclerc to receive replies to his overtures +of peace; and anxious was he to testify every respect to the generals +whom he had lately insulted and defied. He revoked their outlawry, +commending them to the esteem and good offices of those to whom he had +desired to deliver them as traitors. It is true, he transmitted to +France magnificent accounts of the surrender of the blacks, of their +abject supplications for their lives, and of the skill and prowess by +which he had subdued the rebels, and restored the colony to France. But +these boastings were not known in Saint Domingo; though the true state +of the case was whispered in Paris, as regarded the mortality among the +white troops, and the formidable influence still retained by the negro +leaders. + +Leclerc invited Toussaint to visit him at Cap; as well aware, doubtless, +as Toussaint himself, that this open indication of amity was necessary +to protect the army from the ill-will of the blacks, who would not +believe, on any other authority than L'Ouverture's own, that he had made +peace with the invaders. + +It was a mournful, though showy demonstration, and all parties were glad +when it was over. As L'Ouverture rode from Le Dondon to Cap Francais, +followed by a guard of three hundred and fifty horse, he was greeted by +the inhabitants with the profoundest respect. Only in by-places, or +from the depths of some wood, did a few voices sing, in negro language, +the new song which was spreading over the island in praise of August,-- +exhorting to patience and peace till August. As he entered the town of +Cap, the thunder of artillery reverberated from the heights around. +Every fort along the coast, every vessel in the roads, fired its salute; +and the inhabitants of every colour issued from their houses, to pay +honour to their adored L'Ouverture. + +Leclerc stood ready to receive him, and to administer to him the oath of +allegiance in the hall of Government-House, the doors of which stood +wide, and were carefully kept so by Toussaint's own guard, who would +not, for a moment, let their commander be hidden from their sight. They +formed in the Walk, and in the court of Government-House, remaining in +fighting order, with drawn sabres, during the whole of the interview +between the late and the present Commander-in-chief. + +With an unaltered countenance, Toussaint took once more the oath of +allegiance to France;--the oath which it had never been his desire to +break. He smiled when he heard this simple act proclaimed by another +roar of artillery, such as might have greeted a victory. Leclerc +frowned; for it was not followed, as he had hoped, by acclamations. The +echoes died away into deep silence. + +It was an awkward moment. Leclerc hoped that Toussaint would lead the +conversation. But Toussaint was deep in thought. Gazing on the anxious +and sickly face of the Captain-General, he was grieving at heart that +he, and so many thousands more who might have lived long and useful +lives at home, should be laid low, in the course of a bad enterprise +against the liberties of the natives. The mournful gaze of his mild +eyes confused the Captain-General, so that he said the first thing that +occurred, in order to break the silence. He observed that he understood +there was some business yet standing over for settlement between the +parties who had so happily met at last. He had no doubt that General +Toussaint would see clearly that in his allegiance to France was +involved the duty of accounting to the government for the wealth of the +island, whether open to estimate or concealed in the mornes, or +elsewhere. + +"I have heard something of this before," said Toussaint, "and are as +ignorant as yourself of any buried treasure. In this island, Nature is +so perpetually bountiful, that we have not the temptation which we are +told exists elsewhere, to amass wealth against a time of dearth. I have +no treasure." + +"If so, how could you have proposed to remain out of the bounds of the +law, as you did till lately? Nature is not bountiful on the +mountain-peaks, which must then have been your abode. At least, Nature +does not there bring forth arms and ammunition. Without treasure, with +which to purchase supplies, how would you have obtained arms and +ammunition?" + +"I should have taken yours." + +Leclerc saw that even his own followers were more disposed to applaud +than resent these words; and he, therefore, changed the topic. + +"It is fortunate, then, for all parties," said he, "that future +struggles are avoided. We are friends. Let it go abroad through the +whole island that we are friends." + +Toussaint made no reply. Leclerc continued-- + +"You, General, and your troops, will be employed and treated like the +rest of my army. With regard to yourself, you desire repose."--Looking +round, he repeated the words emphatically. "You desire repose: and you +deserve it. After a man has sustained for several years the government +of Saint Domingo, I apprehend he needs repose. I leave you at liberty +to retire to which of your estates you please. I rely so much on the +attachment you bear the colony of Saint Domingo, as to believe you will +employ what moments of leisure you may have during your retreat, in +communicating to me your ideas respecting the means proper to be taken +to cause agriculture and commerce again to flourish. Respecting your +forces, and those of General Christophe, I hold full information. As +soon as a list and statement of the troops under General Dessalines are +transmitted to me, I will communicate my instructions as to the +positions they are to take." + +"I will send a messenger from my guard to General Dessalines, this day," +said Toussaint. "I shall be passing near his post, on my way to my +house at Pongaudin; and he shall have your message." + +"This day?" said Leclerc, in a tone of some constraint. "Will you not +spend this day with us?" + +"I cannot," replied Toussaint. "I must be gone to my home." + +As soon as it was believed that he was fairly out of hearing, the acts +of the morning were proclaimed throughout Cap Francais as the pardon of +Generals Toussaint and Christophe. This proclamation was afterwards +published, by Leclerc's orders, in the _Gazette du Cap_, where it was +read by Toussaint in his study at Pongaudin. + +"See!" said he, pointing out the paragraph to Pascal, with a smile. +"This is the way of men with each other. See the complacency with which +one man pardons another for the most necessary, or the best deed of his +life!" + +During a halt on the road to Pongaudin, Isaac and Aimee appeared. Aimee +was tearful, but her face was happy. So were her words. + +"Oh, father!" she said, "who could have hoped, after what has happened, +that all would so soon be well!" + +"I am rejoiced to see you happy, my children." + +"And you, father, you are happy? Honoured as you are--the colony at +peace--all parties friends--no more divisions--no more struggles in +families! Father, answer me. Is it not all well?" + +"No, my child." + +"Are you unhappy, father?" + +"Yes, my child." + +"I am quite disappointed, quite grieved," said Aimee, drawing back from +his arms, to look in his face. + +"Vincent gave us a glorious account on Tortuga," said Isaac, "of the +welcome you had at Cap. We thought--" + +"I did not see Vincent at Cap." + +"He was not there; but he knew all--" + +"But, father," said Aimee, "you will see General Vincent. You will see +him at Pongaudin. Now that you have done as he did--now that you are +friends with the French, as he is, you will see him, father?" + +"I have never done as Vincent did, Aimee; and my friendship with the +French is what it ever was. If Vincent comes as your husband, I will +see him as such. As a friend, I cannot. Is he your husband, my love?" + +"No!" + +"He is to be your husband?" + +"If you would see him. If he were your friend. He urges me, father; +and Madame Leclerc and Isaac urge me; but I cannot marry him yet. +Father, you do not know how much my heart is with you and my mother." + +"Are you happy, Aimee?" + +"Madame Leclerc is very kind; and Vincent's love is everything that +ought to make me happy, but--" + +"Will you go home with me, my child?" + +"How glad I should be, if only you loved Vincent!" + +"I cannot, Aimee. Would that I could!" + +"Then, when I have married him, you will see him as my husband? I +cannot marry till my heart is more at ease--till I see everybody as +friendly as Vincent said they were. But when we are married we will +come to Pongaudin. May we?" + +"Come, my dear, when you will. Your parents' home and hearts will +always be open to you. Meantime, write often to us, Aimee." + +"Oh, yes! I will. I will write very often; and you will answer. I +have heard perpetually of my mother, and of poor Genifrede. But where +is Placide? I thought we should have met him. Was not he at Cap?" + +"At Cap! No, indeed! He was too heart-broken to be at Cap to-day." + +"I wish I could understand it all!" said Aimee, sadly. "I am sure there +are many things that I do not know or comprehend. I thought all had +been right now; and yet you and Placide are unhappy. I cannot +understand it all." + +"Time will explain, my child. There will come a day when all doubts +will be cleared up, and all woes at an end--when the wicked will cease +from troubling, love, and the weary be at rest." + +"Must you be going, father, already? Oh! I wish--" + +And she looked at Isaac, as if purposing to go to Pongaudin. Isaac, +had, however, promised Madame Leclerc to return by an appointed hour. +There could be no difficulty, he said, in going to Pongaudin any day: +but to-day he had promised that they would both return to Madame +Leclerc. Aimee, therefore, bade her father farewell for the present-- +only for a very little while. He must tell her mother that they should +certainly meet very soon. + +In the piazza, at Pongaudin, Toussaint found Christophe. + +"I wish," said Christophe, "you would send to Dessalines not only the +Captain-General's message, but your own request that he will yield." + +"I cannot, Henri." + +"But he may spoil all by holding out." + +"I have done what I can in yielding myself. I can do no more." + +"You approve our act? Surely you do not repent of what you have done?" + +"I cannot repent of what I could not avoid. But enough of business for +to-day, my friend. Where is Madame Christophe? Where are your +children? Bring them here; and let us enjoy leisure and friendship once +more, while we can." + +"We will. But, Toussaint, if you could only say that you are satisfied +that we have done what is best, it would relieve me much." + +"I cannot, Henri. But, be assured, I fully acquiesce. One has not +always the comfort of being able to acquiesce." + +"Can you say, then, that you forgive me, in as far as you think me +wrong?" + +"Can you doubt it?" replied Toussaint, turning upon him a countenance +full of frank affection. "Are you not a friend of many years?" + +"God forgive me if I have misled you, Toussaint!" + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. + +SUSPENSE. + +Nature wrought with the blacks this season for the fulfilment of their +hopes, and the defence of their precarious liberties. Never, within the +remembrance of the young people at Pongaudin, had the heat set in so +early, and the month of May been so sickly in the towns. To the eyes of +such as Genifrede, who were ever on the watch for signs, it might almost +seem that they saw Pestilence floating, on her poison-dropping wings, +beneath the clouds which sailed from all quarters of the sky to the +mountain-peaks; clouds muttering in thunder, and startling the intruders +with terrific lightnings, from night-to-night. The reports of fever +having broken out here and there among the invaders became more and more +frequent. At first, those who were watching the times the most intently +concluded that, early as the season was, "the wish" must be "father to +the thought," and believed little of what they heard. But before +Toussaint had been ten days at Pongaudin, it was certain that disease +was raging to such an extent among the French troops at Cap, that the +Captain-General had retired to Tortuga, to join his lady, and others of +the expedition who were the most carefully guarded. The garrison at +Saint Marc was thinning, Therese sent word; and the country people +conveyed to Pongaudin the news that funerals were becoming daily more +frequent at Limbe, Le Dauphin, and other posts along the northern shore. + +Not for this, however, was there any relaxation of the vigilance with +which L'Ouverture was watched by the foe. His mode of life was simple, +and open to the observation of any who chose to look on. He improved +his gardens; he read much; he interested himself in Denis's studies; he +rode out daily, and conversed everywhere with the people by the wayside. +He wrote many letters, sometimes with his own hand, and sometimes +employing that of his friend, Monsieur Pascal, who, with his wife, +resided with the Ouvertures. Toussaint also received many letters, and +a perpetual succession of visitors--of applicants about matters of +business, as it seemed. The only mystery was, how all his despatches +were sent to their destination. This was a mystery which grew out of +the French practice of intercepting his correspondence. Accidents had +happened to so many of his letters during the first week, that he +presently learned the necessity of some plan for securing the privacy of +his correspondence: and some plan he did devise, which quite succeeded; +as appeared from the French General having recourse to a new mode of +surveillance--that of setting spies on the person and movements of the +black chief. + +Toussaint's family were alarmed at finding his steps tracked, and his +repose watched. They heard incessantly of his path being crossed in his +rides; and they knew that many of the trifling messages which were +brought, at all hours of the day and night, to be delivered into +L'Ouverture's own ear, were mere devices to learn whether he was at +home. They saw that their grounds were never private; and felt that +eyes watched them from the outer darkness when their saloon was lighted +for their evening employments and amusements. Toussaint smiled at the +alarms of his family, admitting the fact of this incessant _espionnage_, +but asking what harm it did, and pointing out that it was only an +inconvenience of a few weeks' duration. He would not hear of any +strengthening of his guard. To increase his guard would be to encourage +and authorise the suspicions which he was now daily weakening. He had +nothing to conceal; and the sooner the invaders satisfied themselves of +this, the better for all parties. + +In answer to Madame L'Ouverture's frequent speculations as to what +Leclerc could fix his suspicions on, Toussaint said he was probably +supposed to be in communication with Dessalines. He thought so from his +never approaching the mornes, in his rides, without finding French +soldiers overlooking his proceedings from every point of the hills. He +was not in communication with Dessalines. He did not know, and he +wished not to know even where he was--whether with the Bellairs, or +training his soldiers elsewhere for further warfare. Dessalines had +never submitted; and while this was the case, it was obviously prudent +for those who had made terms to know nothing of any plans of his to +which they might wish success. Therese would not compromise the +Ouvertures by living with them, in the present state of affairs. She +remained quietly on her husband's estate, near Saint Marc, only +corresponding frequently with her friends at Pongaudin, in letters which +all the world might see. + +The chief subject of this correspondence was the fever-hospitals +preparing at Saint Marc, as at all the other towns on the coast, for the +reception of the sick whites. Whatever might be Therese's feelings +towards the whites, her compassion towards sick persons of every colour +was stronger. Her gentle nature asserted itself whenever weakness and +suffering appealed to it; and this season she began to inspire that +affection in her neighbours--to establish that character for devoted +charity, which afterwards made her the idol of the people. If her +husband had been with her, he would probably have forbidden her to save +the lives of any of that race whom he desired to exterminate. But +though she could perhaps have taken away life, with her own hand, on the +battlefield, with the cry of liberty in her ear, she could form no +compact with such an ally as pestilence. In the season of truce and +retreat, in the absence of the sounds and sights of conflict, she became +all the woman--the gentle spirit--to whom the colony from this time +looked up, as sent to temper her husband's ferocity, and wisely to +direct his strengthening passions. She who was so soon after "the Good +Empress," was now the Sister of Charity, actually forgetting former +wrongs in present compassion for the helpless; and ministering to the +sick without thought whether, on recovery, they would be friends or +foes. It was matter of speculation to many besides the Ouvertures, +whether the invaders omitted the opportunity of making a hostage of her, +because their sick needed her services, or because they were grateful +for her offices, or because they knew Dessalines well enough to be aware +that, so far from such an act bringing him to submission, it would +exasperate his ferocity, and draw down new sufferings and danger upon +the discouraged whites. + +One evening, the household of the Ouvertures were where it was now their +wont to be at sunset--under the trees, on a grassy slope of the gardens, +fronting the west. There they usually sat at this hour, to see the sun +sink into the ocean; the darkness following almost as quickly as if that +great fire were indeed quenched in the waters. On this occasion, the +sun was still half-an-hour above the horizon, when Madame Dessalines +appeared, in her riding-dress, and, as she said, in haste. She spoke +apart with Madame L'Ouverture and Toussaint; and presently called +Genifrede to the conference. + +Therese had of late wanted help at Saint Marc--help in directing the +nursing of the sick. Now she must have it. Monsieur Papalier was ill-- +very ill. The people of the house where he lived insisted upon sending +him into the hospital this very night, if good attendance were not +provided for him; and now-- + +Therese did not yet seem quite clear why this event had determined the +moment of her application for Genifrede's assistance. She was agitated. +She could only say that Genifrede had nursed Dessalines well; and she +must have her help again now. + +"You will go, Genifrede," said her father; "that Madame Dessalines may +be at liberty to nurse Monsieur Papalier herself." + +"No, no," said Therese, trembling. Genifrede also said "No." + +"You would not have me nurse _him_?" said Therese. "Any one else! Ask +me to save Rochambeau. Send me to Tortuga, to raise Leclerc from the +brink of the grave; but do not expect me to be _his_ nurse again." + +"I do hope it from you. I expect it of you, when you have considered +the tenfold mercy of nursing _him_ with your own hands. Think of the +opportunity you will give him of retrieving wrongs, if he lives, and of +easing his soul, if he dies. How many of us would desire, above all +things, to have those whom we have injured beside our dying pillow, to +make friends of them at last? Let Monsieur Papalier die grateful to +you, if he must die; and give him a new heart towards you, if he +survives." + +"It was not this that I intended," said Therese. "Genifrede will do +everything, under my care. You shall have my help, Genifrede." + +"No," said Genifrede. "Do not play the tempter with me. Find some one +else. You will have much to answer for, if you make me go." + +"What temptation, Genifrede?" asked her mother. + +"Do not press her," said Toussaint, who read his child's mind. "You +shall not be urged, Genifrede." + +"You do not know--I myself do not know," said Genifrede, hurriedly, to +Madame Dessalines, "what might happen--what I might be tempted to do. +You know--you have read what some nurses did in the plague at Milan--in +the plague in London--in the night--with wet cloths--" + +"Do not speak of it. Stay here, Genifrede. I can do without you." + +"If," continued Genifrede, "they could do that for money--if the tempter +moved their hands to that deed with whispers of money, with the sight of +mere rings and watches, what might not a wretched creature do, at such a +time, with revenge muttering for ever in her heart! My ear is weary of +it here; and there--I cannot go." + +"No, you cannot," said Therese. + +"Christ strengthen you, my child," said Toussaint, "as Therese is +strengthening! She can already serve those whom she and you once hated +alike: and she is about to save her foe of foes." + +"No, you will not save Monsieur Papalier," said Genifrede. + +"L'Ouverture is a prophet, as all men are in proportion as they are +Christians," said Therese. "If he says I shall save my enemy, I believe +I shall." + +"You will, at least, try. If you are going, go;--the sun is setting," +said Toussaint. "What escort have you?" + +"Old Dessalines and another, I want no more." + +"Old Dessalines!" said Toussaint, smiling; "then he must have wine. I +must see him." + +"He is here," said Therese, calling him. + +The old man was, indeed, lingering near, preferring the chance of a word +from L'Ouverture even to supper and wine within. He was ready enough to +tell his story:--that he lived as butler at General Dessalines'; and, +that though master and servant had changed places, he liked the new +times better than the old. He was treated with more respect now, by +everybody, than when he was a negro tradesman, even though he then had a +slave of his own. The place of butler suited him too. General +Dessalines and his lady drank only water; and they left him to manage +the wine-cellar just as he liked; except at the present time, when a +dreadful quantity of wine was wanted for the convalescents. It +frightened him to think how soon the cellar might be emptied, if they +went on at this rate. Old Dessalines was glad he had come to Pongaudin +to-day. He had not only seen L'Ouverture, but had heard from +L'Ouverture's own lips that General Dessalines' cellars should never be +quite empty while there was wine at Pongaudin. + +When Toussaint resumed his seat under the tree, where the Pascals, +Euphrosyne, Placide, and Denis remained (the rest having gone into the +house with Therese), he found Denis discussing with Monsieur Pascal the +principle and policy of nursing the sick who were hereafter to be mown +down on the battlefield. Denis had been reminded that this was a time +of peace, and that he was not authorised to anticipate more +battlefields: and his reply had shown that he had no faith in this +peace, but looked forward, like others of his colour, to August and its +consequences. He was not contradicted here; and he went on to ask +whether the Crusaders (his favourite warriors) nursed the wounded and +sick heathens whom they found on their road, and in the cities they +took. + +"They were no Christians if they did not," said Euphrosyne. + +"It was a savage age," observed Placide. + +"Still they were the representatives of the Christianity of their day," +said Afra; "and Christianity requires us to do good to those who use us +ill." + +"The Crusaders," said Toussaint, "lived in the early days of that +Christianity which is to endure as long as the race of man. Like +others, they did their part in acting out one of its principles. That +one was not love of enemies,--which yet remains for us." + +"I agree with you," said Pascal. "There are many ways of warring for +the Cross. Theirs was one; ours is another." + +"You always speak as if you were a black, Monsieur Pascal," said Denis. + +"I would fain be a negro in heart and temper, Denis, if what your father +thinks of the vocation of negroes be true." + +"But about those ways of warring for the Cross!" inquired Afra. + +"I mean, and L'Ouverture, I think, means," said Pascal, "that nothing +can immediately alter the nature of men; that the glorious Gospel itself +is made to change the face of the world gradually; all the more surely, +because slowly and naturally. This seed of life was cast upon the flood +of human passions, and the harvest must not be looked for till after +many days. Meantime it sprouts out, now here, now there, proving that +it is alive and growing; but the harvest is not yet." + +"We find one trace of the Gospel here, and another there," said +Toussaint; "but a Christian nation, or race, or class of people, who has +seen?" + +"Not in the earliest days?" asked Euphrosyne. "Were not the first +confessors and martyrs a Christian class?" + +"They were so according to their intention, to their own idea," said +Toussaint. "They were votaries of the one Christian principle most +needed in their time. The noble men, the courageous women, who stood, +calm and resolved, in the midst of the amphitheatre, with the heathen +altar behind them, the hungry tiger before them, and a careless or +scoffing multitude ranged all around--these were strong witnesses to the +great principle of Faith--noble proofs of the power of living and dying +for things unseen. This was their function. It was for others to show +forth the humility and modesty in which, as a class, they failed." + +"The anchorites," said Pascal, "each in his cave, solitary, abstemious, +showed forth in its strength the principle of Devotion, leaving Charity +unthought of." + +"And then the nun," said Toussaint-- + +"What possible grace of religion did the nun exhibit?" asked Euphrosyne. + +"The original nun, Euphrosyne, was inspired with the reverence of +Purity. In an age of licence, those who were devoted to spiritual +things were the salt of the earth. But in their worship of purity they +outraged human love." + +"The friar," said Pascal, "was a perpetual emblem of Unworldliness. He +forced upon the admiration of a self-seeking world the peace of poverty, +the repose of soul which is troubled with no thought for the morrow. +But for other teachers, however, industry would have been despised--the +great law of toil would have remained unrecognised." + +"The Crusaders worked hard enough," said Denis. "Thousands and +thousands of them died of their toils, besides the slain." + +"They were the apostles of Zeal," said Monsieur Pascal. "For the honour +of the Gospel they suffered and died. They overlooked all that it +teaches of toleration and universal love;--of peace on earth and +good-will to men." + +"None of these Christians," said Afra, "appear to have had much concern +for men. They seemed to have lived for God and the faith, without love +or care for those for whose sake God gave the faith." + +"Just so," said her husband. "That part of our religion had not yet +come into action. The first step taken towards this action was one +which united with it the former devotion to God. The organisation of +the great Church of Christ united, in the intentions of those who formed +it, care for the glory of God and the salvation of men. It was a great +step." + +"But still," said Euphrosyne, "there was not the Charity, the living for +the good of men, soul and body, which was what Christ taught and +practised." + +"That, Euphrosyne, was a later fruit; but it is ripening now. We have +more Sisters of Charity than contemplative nuns, at this time. There +are hospitals in every Christian land for the sick and the aged. It is +remembered now, too, that Christ had compassion on the blind, and the +deaf, and the insane: and charity to these is now the Christianity of a +multitude." + +"And what is their defect?" asked Denis. "What essential do they +overlook, as the anchorite and the crusader overlooked this same +charity?" + +"It may be liberality--regard to the Christian liberty of others;--it +may be--" + +"Let us not look too closely into their failures," said Toussaint. "Let +us not judge our brethren. These are too near our own time for us to be +just judges. We see their charity--the brightest light yet in the +constellation of Christian principles; let us be thankful that our eyes +have seen it. It is brightening too; so that day telleth to-day of its +increase, and night is witness of it unto night. It is now not only the +sick and infirm in body that are cared for; but I am told there has been +a man in England who has taken such pity on those who are sick and +deformed in soul as to have explored the most loathsome of European +prisons in their behalf. There has been a Briton who pitied the guilty +above all other sufferers, and devoted to them his time, his fortune, +his all. He will have followers, till Christendom itself follows him; +and he will thus have carried forward the Gospel one step. The charity +which grieves more for the deformity of the soul than the evils of the +body is so far higher a charity, that it may almost be called a new +principle." + +"What remains?" asked Euphrosyne. + +"Do you see anything further to be done, father?" inquired Denis. + +With a mournful smile, Toussaint replied that mankind had advanced but a +little way yet. The world was very far from being Christianised. + +"In practice," said Euphrosyne. "But, supposing us all to fulfil what +has been exemplified from the earliest days till now, do you suppose +that many principles remain to be acted upon?" + +"No doubt. If I saw none, I should believe, from all experience, that +revelations (or rather verifications of what Christ revealed) will +succeed each other as long as men exist. But, from the beginning till +now, individuals here and there have lived by the principles which +classes and nations have overlooked. By a solitary ray shining here and +there, we may foretell something of the new lights about to rise upon +the world. There will be more privileged classes, Euphrosyne; and, +Denis, these privileges are lying within our grasp." + +"A new charity, father?" + +"A new charity, my boy. To solace the sick and infirm is good. To tend +the diseased soul is better. But there is a higher charity still." + +"To do good to those who hate us," said Monsieur Pascal; "in doing good, +to conquer not only our love of ease and our fear of pain, but our +prejudices, our just resentments, our remembrance of injuries, our +disgust at oppression, our contempt of pride--to forget or conquer all +these through the love of men as men, is, indeed, a higher charity than +any which classes have yet illustrated." + +"The negroes are the race that will illustrate it," said Toussaint, with +calm confidence. "The Gospel is for the whole world. It sprang up +among the Jews; the white Gentiles hold it now; and the negroes are +destined to fulfil their share. They are to illustrate its highest +Charity. For tokens, mark their meek and kindly natures, the softness +and the constancy of their affections, and (whenever tried) their +placability. Thus prepared, liberty is about to be opened to them in a +region of civilisation. When God has given them the strength of the +free, it will exalt their meekness and their love into that highest +charity of which we have spoken. I myself am old; and though I shall do +what I can on this side the grave, I cannot see the great day, except in +faith. But my children may witness at least its dawn." + +"In those days, wars will cease," said Euphrosyne, recalling the +thoughts she had revolved on the day of the death of Moyse: "there will +be no bloodshed, no violence--no punishment of injuries to others, while +your people forgive their own." + +"So will it be, I trust," said Toussaint. + +"Why not, then, begin now? Why not act upon your whole principle at +once?" + +"Because the nature of the negro has been maimed. He has been made +selfish, cowardly, and indolent. He must be educated back into a fair +condition; and this necessary education circumstances have imposed. We +are compelled to the self-denial, toil, and danger of warfare, in order +to obtain the liberty which is to carry us forward. I once hoped +otherwise, Euphrosyne; but I now see the bracing process of defensive +warfare to be inevitable, and, on the whole, good for my people. Their +liberties, thus hardly won, will be prized, so as to shut out the future +danger of war. If, however, one stroke is inflicted for other purposes +than defence--if one life is taken for vengeance, we shall be set back, +long and far, in our career. It shall not be, under my rule. Alas! for +those who succeed me, if they permit it! It will not only make the +first black empire a by-word throughout the world, but it will render +the Christian civilisation of my people difficult and slow." + +Toussaint spoke like a rider; and he was virtually still a sovereign, as +he had been for years past. Nor were the tokens of sovereignty +altogether wanting. At this moment, as was continually happening, +despatches arrived, on affairs of great importance, on which he must +think and act. + +"See what these French commanders are doing," said he, handing his +letters to Monsieur Pascal, "at the very moment that they disclaim all +intention of enslaving the negroes! What are they doing yonder but +recommencing slavery? It must not be. Are you disposed for business?" + +"This moment," said Monsieur Pascal, springing up before he had finished +the letters. "Will you provide a messenger? Slavery is restored; and +there is not a moment to be lost." + +As in old days, lights were ordered into the library; and the +royal-souled negro dictated his commands to his friendly secretary, who +smiled, at such an hour, at the thought of the exultation of the French +court over the "surrender" and "submission" of the blacks. + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. + +DEPARTURE WITHOUT RETINUE. + +"Stand where you are, Therese; there, at the foot of the bed! Stir not +an inch without my leave? I have let you have your own way too much of +late. I call for hours, and you never come. I will not let you out of +my sight again?" + +So said Monsieur Papalier in the delirium of his fever, as Madame +Dessalines was nursing him in his chamber at Saint Marc. It was a sad +and dreary office; but she had motive to go through with it. The more +he wandered back in his talk to the old days, the more strongly she felt +herself called upon to use the present generously. The more imperious +the tone of command with which he addressed her, the more easily could +she pass over the error. There was a degree of pleasure in giving +momentary case to him, while he could not recognise the hand that +bestowed it. She dreaded, however, for the sake of both, an hour of +sanity. If he slept for a short interval, she feared to hear him speak +coherently on his waking; and the more because little or no chance of +his recovery remained. The thought of his carrying forward into the +hour of death the insolent temper of his life was terrible. She almost +hoped that, if he were to die, it would be without having been aware +that he and his nurse were no longer master and slave. + +She was his sole nurse. There was no alternative between this and her +not being with him at all. It was impossible to allow any servant, any +stranger, to hear his talk of old times--to witness the mode in which he +addressed her. Except the physician, no one but herself entered his +chamber during his waking hours. + +She now sat, as he desired, full in his view, at the foot of the bed, +encouraging repose by her stillness, and gladly turning from the ghastly +countenance of the dying man to the scene without--visible in all its +splendour, as the room had a north aspect, and the window stood wide, to +admit the breathing wind from the sea. The deep blue sea, under the +heaven of a lighter blue, looked glorious from the shaded apartment. +The rustle of the trees in the courtyard, and the fall of water there, +spoke of coolness, and seemed to make themselves heard by the patient +even in the midst of the fever-flames by which he was consumed, for he +spoke of trees and fountains, and fancied himself at Arabie. He asked +Therese to sing; and told her what to sing. She did not wish to refuse; +she would have indulged him; but there was a choking in her throat which +forbade it. Papalier was not long peremptory. From commanding, his +voice sank to complaining; from complaining, to the muttering of +troubled slumber; and, at length, into the silence of sleep. + +Therese sat still, as before, looking out upon the sea, till its +brightness, combined with the whispers of foliage and waters, made her +eyes heavy, and disposed her to sleep too. Leaning back against the +bed-post, she was dreaming that she was awake, when she heard her name +so called that she awoke with a start. Papalier was himself again, and +was demanding where he was, and what had been the matter. He felt the +blister on his head; he complained of the soreness and stiffness of his +mouth and tongue; he tried to raise himself, and could not; and, on the +full discovery of his state, he wept like a child. + +Gently, but not tenderly, did Therese endeavour to comfort him. He had +irrecoverably forfeited her tenderness. Gentle, however, she was, as +she told him that his state now, however painful, was better than an +hour ago, when he was unconscious of it. Gentle was her hand, when she +wrapped fresh, cool leaves round his burning head. Gentle was her +voice, when she persuaded him to drink. Gentle was the expression of +her eye, when she fixed its gaze upon his face, and by its influence +caused him to check, like a child, the sobs that shook his frame. + +"Therese," said he, "I am dying. I feel that I am dying. Oh! what must +I do?" + +"We must wait upon God's pleasure. Let us wait in quiet. Is there +anything that can give you quiet of mind or body?" + +Tears stole again from the heavy, closing eyes. + +"We are all familiar with the end of our lives, almost from their +beginning," said Therese. "There is nothing strange or surprising in +it. The great thing is to throw off any burden--any anxiety--and then +to be still. An easy mind is the great thing, whether recovery is at +hand, or--" + +"Do not talk of recovery. I shall not recover." + +"Can I do anything--listen to anything--so as to give you case? Shall I +call father Gabriel? You may find comfort in speaking to him." + +"I want to speak to you first. I have not half done the business I came +for: I have not half secured my estates for my daughters." + +"I believe you have. I know that L'Ouverture fully intends--" + +"What does it matter what L'Ouverture intends? I mean no contempt to +him by saying so. He intends very well, I dare say; but in the scramble +and confusion that are at hand, what chance will my poor orphan girls +have for their rights?" + +"Fear nothing for them. If there is to be a struggle, there is no doubt +whatever as to how it will end. The French army will be expelled--" + +"You do not say so! You cannot think so!" + +"I am certain of it. But the white proprietors will be as safe in +person and property, as welcome to L'Ouverture, as during the years of +his full authority. You were not here to see it; but the white +proprietors were very happy, perfectly satisfied, during those years (at +least, all of them who were reasonable men). I can undertake for +L'Ouverture that your daughters' income from their estates shall be sent +to them at Paris, if you desire them to stay there; or the estates shall +be sold for their benefit; or, if you will trust them to my care--" + +"No, no! Impossible!" + +"I am the wife of a general, and second to no woman in the island," said +Therese, calmly. "I have power to protect your daughters; and, in an +hour like this, you cannot doubt my sincerity when I say that I have the +will." + +"It cannot be, Therese. I do not doubt you--neither your word nor your +will. But it is impossible, utterly." + +"Is there strength, even in the hour of death, to trample on the dark +race? Oh! better far to trample on the prejudices of race! Will you +not do this?" + +"You talk absurdly, Therese. Do not trouble me with nonsense now. You +will undertake, you say, that Toussaint shall secure to my daughters the +estates I have left to them by will. That is, in case of the blacks +getting the upper hand. If they are put down, my will secures +everything. Happily, my will is in safe hands. Speak, Therese. You +engage for what I have just said?" + +"As far as warranted by my knowledge of L'Ouverture and his intentions, +I do. If, through his death or adversity, this resource should fail, +your daughters shall not suffer while my husband and I have property." + +"Your husband! property! It is strange," muttered Papalier. "I believe +you, however, I trust you, Therese; and I thank you, love." + +Therese started at that old word--that old name. Recovering herself, +she inquired-- + +"Have you more to ask of me? Is there any other service I can render +you?" + +"No, no. You have done too much for me--too much, considering the new +order of affairs." + +"I have something to ask of you. I require an answer to one question." + +"You require!" + +"I do. By the right of an outraged mother, I require to know who +destroyed my child." + +"Say nothing of that, Therese. You should know better than to bring +such subjects before a dying man." + +"Such subjects lie before the dead. Better to meet them prepared-- +atoned for, in as far as atonement is yet possible. For your own sake, +and by my own right, I require to be told who destroyed my child?" + +"I did not, Therese." + +"You did not! Is it possible? Yet in this hour you could not deceive +me. I have accused you of the deed, from that hour to this. Is it +possible that I have wronged you?" + +"I do not say that I disapproved of it--that I did not allow it. But I +did not do it." + +"Then you know who did it?" + +"Of course I do." + +"Who was it?" + +"I swore long ago that I would not tell; and I never will. But you may +lay the blame on me, my dear; for, as I told you, I permitted the deed. +It was necessary. Our lives depended on it." + +"May you not find your eternal death depend on it!" said Therese, +agonised by suspicions as to whose hand it was by which her child had +died. In a moment, she formed a resolve which she never broke--never +again to seek to know that which Papalier now refused to tell. A glance +at the countenance before her filled her with remorse the next instant, +at what now seemed the cruel words she had just spoken. + +"Let me bring Father Gabriel to you," said she. "He will give you +whatever comfort God permits." + +"Do not suppose I shall tell Father Gabriel what you want to discover," +replied Papalier. "He has no business with more than my share of the +affair: which is what you know already. I am too weak to talk--to +Father Gabriel, or any one else." + +"But you need comfort. You will rest better afterwards." + +"Well, well; in the evening, perhaps. I must be quiet now. Comfort, +indeed!" he muttered. "Yes, I want comfort enough, in the horrid +condition I am in. But there is no comfort till one lies dead. I wish +I were dead." + +He fell into a restless doze. Moved by his misery and melted by the +thought that she had wronged him, all these years, by harbouring the +image of his hand on her infant's throat--distracted, too, by the new +doubts that had arisen--Therese prayed and wept, wept and prayed, on +behalf of Papalier and all sinners. Again and again she implored that +these wretched hatreds, those miserable strifes, might be all hushed in +the grave,--might be wholly dissolved in death. + +She was just stealing to the door, intending to send for Father Gabriel, +that he might be in readiness for the dying man's confession, when +Papalier started, cast his eyes round the room hurriedly, and +exclaimed-- + +"It is in vain to talk of attaching them. If one's eye is off them for +one moment--Oh! _you_ are there, Therese! I thought, after all I had +done for you--after all I had spent upon you--I thought you would not go +off with the rest. Don't go--Therese--Therese!" + +"I am here," said she, perceiving that he no longer saw. + +"I knew you would stay," he said, very faintly. "I cannot spare you, my +dear." + +The last words he said were-- + +"I cannot spare you--remember--Therese!" + +To the pang of the thought that he had died unconfessed succeeded the +question, more painful still-- + +"Could religious offices avail anything to a soul wholly unsanctified? +Is there a promise that any power can put such a spirit into immediate +congeniality with the temper of Heaven? Among the many mansions, is +there one which would not be a prison to such?--to the proud one who +must there feel himself poor and miserable, and blind and naked?" + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. + +JUNE. + +Of the letters written by Toussaint and Pascal on the evening when news +arrived of the imposition of compulsory labour on the negroes, some +reached their destination; but one did not. That one was to +L'Ouverture's aide, Fontaine, at Cap Francais. It contained the +following:-- + + "It is said that General Leclerc is in a bad state of health at + Tortuga. Of this you will inform me. If you see the Captain-General, + be sure to tell him that the cultivators are no longer disposed to + obey me, for the planters wish to set them to work at Hericourt; which + they certainly ought not to do. + + "I have to ask you whether any one near the person of the + Captain-General can be gained to procure the release of D--, who would + be very useful to me from his influence at La Nouvelle, and elsewhere. + + "Acquaint Gingembre that he is not to quit the Borgne, where the + cultivators must not be set to work." + +This letter never reached Fontaine, but was, instead, made the subject +of a consultation in the Captain-General's quarters. Amidst the +boastings which he sent home, and by which France was amused, Leclerc +felt that his thirty-five thousand soldiers had made no progress +whatever in the real conquest of Saint Domingo. He was aware that +France had less power there than before she had alienated L'Ouverture. +He felt that Toussaint was still the sovereign that he had been for ten +years past. He knew that a glance of the eye, a lifting of the hand, +from Toussaint, wrought more than sheaves of ordinances from himself, +and all the commendations and flatteries of the First Consul. Leclerc, +and the officers in his confidence, could never take a morning ride, or +give an evening party--they could never hear a negro singing, or amuse +themselves with children, playing on the shore or in the woods, without +being reminded that they were intruders, and that the native and +abundant loyalty of the inhabitants was all for their L'Ouverture, now +that France had put him in opposition to herself. Leclerc and his +confidential advisers committed the error of attributing all this to +Toussaint's personal qualities; and they drew the false inference (most +acceptable to the First Consul) that if Toussaint were out of the way, +all would be well for the purposes of France. Having never seriously +regarded the blacks as free men and fellow-citizens, these Frenchmen +omitted to perceive that a great part of their devotion to Toussaint was +loyalty to their race. Proceeding on this mistake, Leclerc and his +council, sanctioned by the First Consul, ruined their work, lost their +object, and brought irretrievable disgrace upon their names--some of +which are immortalised only by the infamy of the act which ensued. + +From day-to-day, they endeavoured to entrap Toussaint; but he knew it, +surrounded as he was by faithful and vigilant friends. Day by day he +was warned of an ambush here, of spies there, or of an attempt meditated +for such an hour. During a fortnight of incessant designs upon his +person, he so baffled all attempts as to induce a sort of suspicion +among the French soldiery that he was protected by magic. + +It was an anxious season for his family. Their only comfort was that it +would soon be over; that this, like all other evils connected with the +invasion, was to last only "till August;" the familiar words which were +the talisman of hope throughout the island. The household at Pongaudin +counted the days till August; but it was yet only the beginning of June; +and the season passed heavily away. On one occasion, a faithful servant +of Toussaint's was brought in dead--shot from a thicket which his master +was expected to pass. On another, the road home was believed to be +beset; and all the messengers sent by the family to warn him of his +danger were detained on some frivolous pretext; and the household were +at length relieved by his appearing from the garden, having returned in +a boat provided by some of his scouts. Now and then, some one mentioned +retiring to the mountains; but Toussaint would not hear of it. He said +it would be considered a breach of the treaty, and would forfeit all the +advantages to be expected from a few weeks' patience. The French were, +he knew, daily more enfeebled and distracted by sickness. Caution and +patience, for two months more, would probably secure freedom without +bloodshed. He had foreseen that the present perils would arise from the +truce; and still believed that it had better not have been made. But, +as he had agreed to it, the first breach should not be on his part. + +If Toussaint owed his danger to Christophe, he owed him the protection +by which he had thus far been preserved. Worn as he was by perpetual +labour and anxiety, Henri seemed never to close his eyes in sleep during +this anxious season. He felt to the full his responsibility, from the +hour of the first discovery of French treachery towards his friend. By +day, he was scouring the country in the direction of Toussaint's rides. +By night, he was patrolling round the estate. It seemed as if his eye +pierced the deepest shades of the woods; as if his ear caught up +whispers from the council-chamber in Tortuga. For Henri's sake, +Toussaint ran no risks but such as duty absolutely required; for Henri's +sake, he freely accepted these toils on his behalf. He knew it to be +essential to Henri's future peace that his personal safety should be +preserved through this season, and that Henri himself should be his +chief guardian. + +Henri himself did not ask him to give up his rides. It was necessary +that his people should have almost daily proof that he was among them, +safe and free. It was necessary that the French should discern no +symptom of fear, of shrinking, of departure from the mode of life he had +proposed on retiring to his estate. Almost daily, therefore, he rode; +and exhilarating did he find the rapid exercise, the danger, and, above +all, the knowledge he gained of the condition of his people, in fortunes +and in mind, and the confidence with which they hailed him, the +constancy with which they appealed to his authority, wherever he +appeared. + +This knowledge enabled him to keep up more than the show of co-operation +with the French in matters which concerned the welfare of the people. +He pointed out gross abuses; and Leclerc hastened to remedy them. +Leclerc consulted him occasionally in local affairs, and had his best +advice. This kind of correspondence, useful and innocent, could not +have been carried on to equal purpose but for Toussaint's rides. + +By such excursions he verified a cause of complaint, concerning which he +had received applications at home. In dispersing his troops over the +colony, Leclerc had taken care to quarter a very large proportion in the +districts near Gonaives, so as to enclose the residence of Toussaint +with the best of the French forces. The canton of Henneri was +overcharged with these troops; so that the inhabitants were oppressed, +and the soldiers themselves suffered from scarcity of food, and from the +fever which raged in their crowded quarters. Having ascertained this to +be the fact, Toussaint wrote to represent the case to Leclerc, and +received a speedy and favourable reply. By Leclerc's command, General +Brunet wrote that this was an affair which came within his department; +that he was necessarily ignorant of the localities of Saint Domingo, and +of their respective resources; and that he should be thankful for +information and guidance from one who had a perfect knowledge of these +circumstances. He proposed that General Toussaint should meet him in +the centre of the canton of Henneri, and instruct him concerning the +better distribution of the troops. + +"See these whites!" said Toussaint, handing the letter to Monsieur +Pascal. "Till they find they are wrong, they have no misgivings; they +know everything; and they are obliged at last to come, and learn of old +Toussaint." + +"You will not meet General Brunet, as he proposes," said Monsieur +Pascal. "You will not place yourself in the centre of the canton, among +their troops?" + +"No, no; you will not! You will not think of going!" cried Madame +L'Ouverture. + +"For once, Margot, you bear ill-will towards those who compliment your +husband," said Toussaint, smiling. "But be easy; I shall not go to the +canton of Henneri. If I walk into a pitfall, it shall not be after +having seen it made. I must meet General Brunet, however. I shall +invite him here with an escort of twenty soldiers; promising to limit my +own guard to that number." + +"He will not come," said Monsieur Pascal. + +"I think he will; not because they trust me, for they know not what +trust is; but because I could gain nothing by any injury to General +Brunet and twenty soldiers that could compensate for a breach of the +treaty." + +"The gain, from capture or violence, would be all the other way, +certainly," said Pascal, in a low voice. + +"Henri will take care that General Brunet's is _bona fide_ an escort of +twenty. There is reason for the meeting taking place here. Maps will +be wanted, and other assistance which we might not remember to provide +elsewhere. General Brunet must be my guest; and Madame L'Ouverture will +make him admire our hospitality." + +General Brunet immediately accepted the invitation, promising to present +himself at Pongaudin on the tenth of June. + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. + +A FEAT. + +General Brunet brought with him no more than his allotted twenty +soldiers, and a secretary. Christophe ascertained to his own +satisfaction, and let the household know, that not another French +soldier breathed within a circuit of some miles, when the evening closed +in; so that the ladies threw off constraint and fear together as the two +generals, with their secretaries, retired to the library, after coffee. + +Placide had been with Christophe all day, and was the means by which the +household had been assured of the tranquillity of the neighbourhood. He +was of the patrol which was to watch the roads during the night. It +seemed improbable, however, that, of all nights, that should be chosen +for an assault when the Ouvertures must be particularly roused to +observation, and when a French general was in their hands. Of all +nights, this was probably the safest; yet Placide, glad, perhaps, of an +excuse to keep out of the way of a guest from Paris, chose to mount +guard with Christophe. + +Denis was permitted to be in the library, as the business was not +private, and, to one who knew the country as well as he did, very +entertaining. For a time he found it so, while all the five were +stooping over the maps, and his father was explaining the nature of the +localities, and the interests of the inhabitants, and while words +dropped from General Brunet which gave an insight into that object of +Denis's strong curiosity--the French encampment on Tortuga. When all of +this kind had been said, and the conversation turned upon points of +military science or management, which he did not care about, Denis drew +off to the window, and thence into the balcony, where he looked out upon +the night--vainly, for it was cloudy, and there was yet no moon. The +air was cool and pleasant, however, and he remained leaning over the +balcony, revolving what he had heard, and picturing to himself the +little court of Madame Leclerc--so near, and yet out of his reach. +While thus absorbed, it is probable that some distant voice of song +instigated him to sing also. Like his race generally, Denis was almost +always singing; always when alone and meditative. It is probable that +some notes of the air sung by those who looked to August for freedom-- +sung by the whole negro population--now caught his ear; for he began, +hardly to sing, but to murmur this popular air. The words were not +heard within; and it would not have mattered if they had been; for the +words were in the negro language. But the air was, by this time, +intelligible enough to the invaders. In the interest of conversation, +nothing escaped the eye of Toussaint. He saw an exchange of glances +between General Brunet and his secretary, and a half smile on the face +of each which he did not like. + +He thought it best to take no notice; but, far from leaving off, Denis +sang louder as he sank deeper into reverie. Monsieur Pascal became +aware of some embarrassment, and of its cause. + +"Denis, you disturb us," he called out from the table. + +They heard no more of Denis; and their business proceeded. Vexed, +partly with himself, and partly at having been rebuked in General +Brunet's hearing, he went round the house by the balcony, and thence to +the upper gallery, which commanded the finest sea view in the day-time, +and the freshest sea breezes at night. There, in a somewhat perverse +mood, he sang for his own pleasure the air which he had been checked for +singing unconsciously. He remained there a long while--he did not know +how long--till the moon rose, when he remembered that it must be +midnight. As no one had called him, he supposed that the party in the +library were still in consultation. + +As his eye rested on the bay, while he was considering whether he must +not go in, he perceived something dark lying on the waters between the +island and the shore. As he strained his sight, and as the waned moon +rose higher, he discovered that it was a ship. It was strange. No ship +ever had business there; though he had heard that there was a deep +channel, and good anchorage in that little bay. It was very strange. +But something stranger still soon met his ear--sounds, first odd, then +painful--horrible. There was some bustle below--on the beach, within +the little gate--he thought even on the lawn. It was a scuffle; there +was a stifled cry. He feared the guard were disarmed and gagged-- +attacked on the side of the sea, where no one dreamed of an assault, and +where there was no Christophe to help. Denis knew, however, how to +reach Christophe. He did the right thing. Lest his purpose should be +prevented if he entered the house, he clambered up the roof to its +ridge, and swung the heavy alarm-bell. Its irregular clang banished +sleep in a moment from a circuit of many miles. It not only startled +the ladies of the family from their beds; but every fisherman rushed +from his hut upon the shore. Christophe and Placide were galloping to +Pongaudin almost before they had drawn a breath. Every beast stirred in +its lair; and every bird rustled in its roost. Rapid, however, as was +the spread of sound, it was too late to save L'Ouverture. + +L'Ouverture himself had but a few moments of uncertainty to endure. In +the midst of earnest conversation, suspicious sounds were heard. The +two Frenchmen rushed to the door of the library, and Monsieur Pascal to +the balcony. Monsieur Pascal re-entered in an instant, saying-- + +"The house is surrounded--the lawn is crowded. Make no resistance, and +they may spare your life." + +"Hark! The bell! There is hope," said Toussaint. "No resistance! but +let us gain time." + +The door was burst open, and with General Brunet entered a personage +whom he introduced as Admiral Ferrari, followed by a file of grenadiers. + +"What can be your errand at this hour?" asked Toussaint. + +"I have orders from the Captain-General to arrest you," replied Admiral +Ferrari. "Your guards are disarmed and bound. Our troops are +everywhere. You are dead if you resist. Deliver up your sword!" + +"I shall not resist such a force as you have thought it necessary to +bring against me," replied Toussaint, handing his sword to the admiral. +"Am I to be a prisoner here, in my own house?" + +"No, indeed! I have orders to convey you and your family to Cap +Francais. No delay! To the boats this moment! You will find your +family on board the frigate, or on the way to it." + +"Do what you will with me; but Madame L'Ouverture is in weak health. +Suffer her and my children to remain at home." + +"Lose no more time. General. March! or we must carry you." + +Voices of lamentation and of passion were heard in the corridor, which +quickened L'Ouverture's movements more than threats or insults could +have done. He left the library, and found the ladies of the household +in the corridor--Margot weeping and trembling, and Genifrede addressing +Monsieur Coasson in a tone of high anger. + +"You here! Monsieur Coasson!" said Toussaint; "and availing yourself +once more of the weakness and woes of women, I perceive." + +"I came as guide," replied Monsieur Coasson. "The admiral and his +troops needed some one to show them the way; and, as you are aware, I +was qualified to do so. I have always felt, too, that I had a sort of +appointment to fulfil with this young lady. Her kind expressions +towards the whites on my last visit might be considered a sort of +invitation to come again--with such a train as you see," pointing to the +stiff row of grenadiers who stood behind. + +Genifrede groaned. + +"Make yourself happy with your train," said Toussaint, as he seized the +wretch by the collar, hurled him back among the grenadiers, and kicked +him over as he lay, introducing great disorder into the formal +arrangements of that dignified guard. + +This would have been the last moment of Toussaint, if General Brunet had +not drawn his sword, and commanded every one to stand back. His orders, +he said, were to deliver his prisoner alive. + +"Come, my love," said Toussaint to Madame L'Ouverture. "We are to sleep +on board a frigate this night. Come. Genifrede! We may sleep in +peace. General Brunet will hardly be able to digest your hospitality, +my Margot; but _you_ may sleep. Who else?" he asked, as he looked round +upon his trembling household. + +"We are following," said Monsieur Pascal, who had his wife and +Euphrosyne on either arm. + +"Pardon me," said General Brunet. "Our orders extend only to General +Toussaint and his family. You must remain. Reverend father," he said +to Father Laxabon, "you will remain also--to comfort any friends of +General Toussaint whom you may be able to meet with to-morrow. They +will be all inconsolable, no doubt." + +Monsieur Coasson whispered to the admiral, who said, in consequence, +bowing to Euphrosyne-- + +"I can answer for this young lady being a welcome guest to Madame +Leclerc. If she will afford to a countryman the pleasure and honour of +conveying her, it will give him joy to introduce her to a society worthy +of her." + +"I do not wish to see Madame Leclerc," said Euphrosyne, speaking with +surprising calmness, though her cheek was white as ashes. "I wish to be +wherever I may best testify my attachment to these my honoured friends, +in the day of their undeserved adversity." + +She looked from Monsieur Pascal to L'Ouverture. + +"Stay with those who can be your guardians," said Toussaint. + +"For our sakes," added Genifrede. + +"Stay with us!" cried Monsieur Pascal and Afra. + +"Farewell, then," said Euphrosyne, extending her arms to Madame +L'Ouverture. + +"We are losing time," said General Brunet, as the clang of the +alarm-bell was heard again. By his order, some soldiers went in search +of the traitor who was ringing the bell; and others pushed the captive +family before them towards the door. Monsieur Coasson thrust himself +between the parting friends, and began to count the family, in order to +tell who was missing. It would not do, he observed, to leave any +behind. + +"Lose no more time," said the admiral. "Those who may be left behind +are cared for, I promise you. We have a hundred of them safe already." + +"A hundred of whom?" asked Toussaint, as he walked. + +"Of your friends," replied Admiral Ferrari. + +This was too true. A hundred of Toussaint's most attached adherents had +been seized this night. No one of them was ever again heard of in the +island. + +At the door of the mansion Denis was brought forward, guarded. His eyes +were flashing fire. + +"The country is up!" he cried. "I got good service out of the old bell +before they found me." + +"Right, my boy! Thank you!" said his father, cheerfully. + +"Give Genifrede to me, father. My mother is ready to sink." + +Proudly he supported his sister to the boats, carrying her on so rapidly +as to prevent the need of any soldier speaking to her. + +There was an array of boats along the shore of the bay. Distant firing +was heard during the whole time that the prisoners and the troops were +embarking. + +"They must be very much afraid of us," observed Denis, looking round, as +soon as he had taken his place beside his sister in the boat. "They +have given us above a hundred guards, I believe." + +"They are afraid of us," said Toussaint. + +"There is terrible fighting somewhere," murmured the weeping Margot. "I +am afraid Placide is in the midst of it." + +"He is in his duty if he be," said Toussaint. + +Placide had discharged this kind of duty, however, and now appeared to +fulfil the other--of sharing the captivity of his parents. He leaped +into the boat, breathless, after it had pushed off from the shore. + +"In time, thank God!" gasped he. + +"He can hardly speak!" exclaimed his mother. "He is wet! He is +wounded--cruelly wounded!" + +"Not wounded at all, mother. Whole in heart and skin! I am soaked in +the blood of our enemies. We have fought gloriously--in vain, however, +for to-night. Latortue is shot; and Jasmin. There are few left but +Christophe; but he is fighting like a lion." + +"Why did you leave him, my son?" asked Toussaint. + +"He desired me to come, again and again, and I fought on. At last I was +cut off from him. I could not give any more help there; and I saw that +my business lay here. They say this frigate is the _Creole_. Whither +bound, I wonder?" + +"To Cap Francais," replied the officer in the stern: "to join the +_Heros_, now in the roads there." + +"The _Heros_--a seventy-four, I think," said L'Ouverture. + +"A seventy-four--you are correct," replied the officer. No one spoke +again. + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY NINE. + +TRUCE NO MORE. + +When Toussaint set foot on the deck of the _Heros_, on the evening of +the next day, the commander stood ready to receive him--and not only the +commander. Soldiers also stood ready with chains, with which they lost +no time in fettering the old man's ankles and wrists. While they were +doing this, Toussaint quietly said to the commander-- + +"By my overthrow, the trunk of the tree of negro liberty is laid low; +only the trunk. It will shoot out again from the roots; and they are +many and deep." + +The moment the soldiers stepped back, and allowed access to him, Aimee +was in his arms; and Isaac, in great agitation, presented himself. + +"I will never leave you more, father!" said he. "These fetters! +Nothing should have made me believe such treatment possible. I trusted +Leclerc as firmly as I trusted you. I have been living with him while +he meditated chains for you. I am humbled for ever! All I can do now +is to devote myself to you, as Placide did at the right time. Would I +were Placide! I am humbled for ever!" + +"No, my son: not for ever. It is a common lot to be humbled for the +credulous confidence of youth. It is a safer and a nobler error, Isaac, +than its opposite. It is better than unbelief in the virtue of man." + +"You torture me with your goodness, father!" + +"I deal with you as with myself, Isaac. In the young days of my freedom +I trusted falsely, as you have done. I believed in Bonaparte, as you +have believed in Leclerc. We have both received a lesson; but I do not +feel humbled for ever; nor must you." + +"Would I were Placide!" was all that Isaac could say. + +"You are so good to Isaac and me," said Aimee, timidly, "that perhaps +you would (could you?) see Vincent." + +"No, my child. Vincent is not like Isaac. He cannot be made wise by +experience; and his folly is scarcely to be distinguished from +treachery. I cannot see General Vincent." + +No choice was allowed, however. Vincent rushed forward, knelt before +Toussaint, and clasped his knees, imploring, in a convulsion of grief, +pardon for the past, and permission to devote every hour of his future +life to the family whom he had ruined. + +"My pardon you have," said L'Ouverture. "I should rather say my +compassion; for you never deliberately designed treachery, I am +persuaded." + +"I never did! I never did!" + +"Neither had you any good design. You have been selfish, vain, and +presumptuous; as far from comprehending my purposes as from having +criminal ones of your own. In the new circumstances in which negroes +are placed, many must fall, however firmly some may stand. You are +among the infirm; and therefore, however I may mourn, I do not resent +what you have done." + +"Thank God! You pardon me! Thank God! Henceforth, with Aimee to watch +over me--with you to guide me--" + +"No, Vincent! You cannot be with me. Aimee is free as she has ever +been; but you cannot be with me. I go to martyrdom: to fulfil what +appears to be the solemn vocation of the Ouvertures. I go to martyrdom; +and none but steady souls must travel that way with me." + +"You scorn me," said Vincent, springing from his knees. "Your acts show +that you scorn me. You take that poor fellow," pointing to Mars +Plaisir, "and you reject me." + +"My son's servant," said Toussaint, smiling. "He goes to his beloved +France, free to quit us for any other service, when ours becomes too +grave for his light spirit. I would not insult you by taking you on a +like condition. You must leave us, Vincent," pointing to the _Creole's_ +boat, now about to put off from the _Heros_. "We will pray for you. +Farewell!" + +"Aimee!" said her lover, scarcely daring to raise his eyes to her face. + +"Farewell, Vincent!" Aimee strove to say. + +In vain Vincent endeavoured to plead. Aimee shook her head, signed to +him to go, and hid her face on her father's shoulder. It was too much. +Humbled to the point of exasperation, Vincent throw himself over the +ship's side into the boat, and never more saw the face of an Ouverture. + +"I have nothing left but you," sobbed Aimee--"but you and my mother. If +they kill you my mother will die, and I shall be desolate." + +"Your brothers, my child." + +"No, no. I have tried all. I left you to try. I loved you always; but +I thought I loved others more. But--" + +"But," said her father, when she could not proceed, "you found the lot +of woman. To woman the affections are all: to men, even to brothers, +they are not. Courage, Aimee! Courage! for you are an Ouverture. +Courage to meet your woman's martyrdom!" + +"Let me rest upon your heart, father; and I can bear anything." + +"Would I could, my child! But they will not allow it--these jailors. +They will part us." + +"I wish these chains could bind me too--these very links--that I might +never leave you," cried Aimee, kissing the fetters which bound her +father's arms. + +"Your mother's heart, Aimee; that remains." + +"I will keep it from breaking, father, trust me." + +And the mother and daughter tasted something like happiness, even in an +hour like this, in their re-union. It was a strange kind of comfort to +Aimee to hear from her mother how long ago her father had foreseen, at +Pongaudin, that the day might come when her heart would be torn between +her lover and her family. The impending blow had been struck--the +struggle had taken place: and it only remained now to endure it. + +"Father!" said Genifrede, appealing to Toussaint, with a grave +countenance, "you say that none but brave and steady souls must go with +you on your way to martyrdom. You know me to be cowardly as a slave, +and unstable as yonder boat now tossing on the waves. Do you see that +boat, father?" + +"Surely--yes; it is Paul;" said Toussaint, looking through his glass. +"Paul is coming to say farewell." + +"Let me return with him, father. Let me become his child. I am +unworthy to be yours. And he and I are so forlorn!" + +Her father's tender gaze encouraged her to say more. Drawing closer, +she whispered-- + +"I have seen Moyse--I have seen him more than once in the Morne; and I +cannot leave this place. Let me stay." + +"Stay, my child. Seek consolation in your own way. We will all pray +for you; we will all console your mother for your absence. We shall not +meet again on earth, Genifrede." + +"I know it, father. But the time of rest--how long it is in coming!" + +"My child, our rest is in the soul--it lies not either in place or time. +Do not look for it in the grave, unless you have it first in the soul." + +"Then would I had never been born!" + +"How different will be your cry when you have been a daughter to Paul +for a while! When you see him consoled, and reposing upon your care, +you will say, `I thank God that I have lived for this!' A great duty +lies before you, my dear child; and in the heart of duty lies rest--a +deeper than that of the grave. Shall I give you a duty to discharge for +me?" + +"Oh, yes! I will take it as your blessing." + +"Convey to Christophe my last message. Bid him rejoice for me that my +work is done. My work is now his. Bid him remember how we always +agreed that freedom is safe. I bequeath the charge of it to him, with +my blessing." + +"He shall know this, if he lives, before the moon rises." + +"If he does not live, let Dessalines hear what was my message to +Christophe. He will know how much to take to himself." + +It was well that this message was given without further delay. +Toussaint was summoned to speak with some officers of Leclerc's council, +in the cabin below. At the clank of his chains upon the deck all eyes +were upon him, except those of his own family, which were turned away in +grief. + +"Before your departure," said one of the officers, in the small cabin to +which Toussaint was conducted, "we would urge you to do a service to the +colony which yet remains in your power. You must not refuse this last +service." + +"I have never refused to serve the colony; and I am as willing to-day as +ever." + +"No doubt. Reveal to us, then, the spot in the Mornes du Chaos, in +which your treasures lie buried, and state their amount." + +"I have before said that I have buried no treasures. Do you disbelieve +my word?" + +"We are sorry to do so; but facts are against you. You cannot deceive +us. We know that you caused certain of your dependents to bury treasure +near the Plateaux de la Ravine; and that you afterwards shot these +servants, to secure your secret." + +"Is it possible?" + +"You see we have penetrated your counsels. The time for concealment is +past. You take your family with you; and none of you will ever return. +Your friends are, most of them, disposed of. A new order of things has +commenced. You boast of your patriotism. Show it now by giving up the +treasure of the colony to the uses of the colony." + +"I have already devoted my all to the colony. I reply once more that I +leave behind me no treasure but that which you cannot appreciate--the +grateful hearts of my people." + +The investigation was pressed--the inquiry made, under every form of +appeal that could be devised; and in vain. Toussaint disdained to +repeat his reply; and he spoke no more. The officers left him with +threats on their lips. The door was locked and barred behind them, and +Toussaint found himself a solitary prisoner. + +During the night the vessel got under weigh. What at that hour were the +secrets which lay hid in the mountain-passes, the forest-shades, and the +sad homes of the island whose true ruler was now borne away from its +shores? + +Pongaudin was already deserted. Monsieur and Madame Pascal had, by +great activity, obtained a passage for France in the ship which was +freighted with Leclerc's boastings of his crowning feat. They were +already far on the sea before the _Heros_ spread its sails. Leclerc's +announcement of Toussaint's overthrow was as follows:-- + + "I intercepted letters which he had written to one Fontaine, who was + his agent at Cap Francais. These afforded an unanswerable proof that + he was engaged in a conspiracy, and that he was anxious to regain his + former influence in the colony. He waited only for the result of + disease among the troops. + + "Under these circumstances, it would be improper to give him time to + mature his criminal designs. I ordered him to be apprehended--a + difficult task; but it succeeded through the excellent arrangements + made by General Brunet, who was entrusted with its execution, and the + zeal and ardour of Admiral Ferrari. + + "I am sending to France, with all his family, this deeply perfidious + man, who, by his consummate hypocrisy, has done us so much mischief. + The government will determine how it should dispose of him. + + "The apprehension of General Toussaint occasions some disturbances. + Two leaders of the insurgents are already in custody, and I have + ordered them to be shot. About a hundred of his confidential + partisans have been secured, of whom some are on board the _Muiron_ + frigate, which is under orders for the Mediterranean; and the rest are + distributed among the different ships of the squadron. + + "I am daily occupied in settling the affairs of the colony, with the + least possible inconvenience: but the excessive heat, and the diseases + which attack us, render it an extremely painful task. I am impatient + for the approach of the month of September, when the season will + renovate our activity. + + "The departure of Toussaint has produced general joy at Cap Francais. + + "The Commissary of Justice, Mont Peson, is dead. The Colonial + Prefect, Benezech, is breathing his last. The Adjutant-commandant, + Dampier, is dead: he was a young officer of great promise. + + "I have the honour, etcetera,--" + + Signed-- + + "Leclerc." + +On board the vessel which carried these tidings was Pascal, prepared to +give a different version of the late transactions, and revolving, with +Afra, the means by which he might best employ such influence as he had +on behalf of his friend. Theirs was a nearly hopeless errand, they well +knew; but the less hopeful, the more anxious were they to do what they +could. + +Was Euphrosyne with them?--No. She never forgot the duty which she had +set before her--to stay near Le Bosquet, in hopes of better times, when +she might make reparation to the people of the estate for what they had +suffered at her grandfather's hands. A more pressing duty also detained +her on the island. She could be a daughter to Monsieur Raymond in +Afra's stead, and thus make their duty easier to the Pascals. Among the +lamentations and prayers which went up from the mourning island were +those of the old man and the young girl who wept together at Le Zephyr-- +scarcely attempting yet to forgive the enemies whose treachery had +outraged the Deliverer--as he was henceforth called, more fondly than +ever. They were not wholly wretched. They dwelt on the surprise and +pleasure it would be to the Ouvertures to find the Pascals in France +before them. Euphrosyne had also the satisfaction of doing something, +however indirectly, for her unfortunate friends; and she really enjoyed +the occupation, to her so familiar, and still so dear, of ministering to +the comfort of an old man, who had no present dependence but on her. + +Her cares and duties were soon increased. The habitations of the Plain +du Nord became so disgusting and so dangerous as the pestilence strewed +the land with dead, and the survivors of the French army became, in +proportion to the visitation, desperate and savage, that Madame Oge was, +at length, like all her neighbours, driven from her home. She wished to +take refuge with one of her own colour; and Monsieur Raymond, at +Euphrosyne's suggestion, invited her to Le Zephyr, to await better days. +With a good grace did Euphrosyne go out to meet her; with a good grace +did she welcome and entertain her. The time was past when she could be +terrified with evil prognostications. In the hour of the earthquake, no +one heeds the croak of the raven. + +Among the nuns at Saint Marc there was trembling, which the pale abbess +herself could not subdue by reason or exhortation. Their ears were +already weary with the moans of the dying. They had now to hear the +shrieks and curses of the kidnapped blacks--the friends of L'Ouverture-- +whose homes were made desolate. The terrified women could not but ask +each other, "who next?" for they all loved L'Ouverture, and had declared +their trust in him. No one injured the household of the abbess, +however; and the sisters were all spared, in safety and honour, to hear +the proclamation of the Independence of Hayti, and to enjoy the +protection and friendship of its beloved Empress. + +And where was she--Therese--when Saint Marc was resounding with the +cries of her husband's betrayed companions and friends? She was on the +way to the fastnesses, where her unyielding husband was preparing a +tremendous retribution for those whom he had never trusted. She +rejoiced, solemnly but mournfully, that he had never yielded. She could +not wonder that the first words of Dessalines to her, when he met her +horse on the steep, were a command that she would never more intercede +for a Frenchman--never more hold back his strong hand from the work +which he had now to do. She never did, till that which, in a chief, was +warfare, became, in an emperor, vengeance. Then she resumed her woman's +office of intercession; and by it won for herself the title of "the Good +Empress." + +The eyes which first caught sight of the receding ship _Heros_, at dawn, +were those of Paul L'Ouverture and Genifrede. They had sent messengers, +more likely than themselves to reach Christophe and Dessalines, with the +last message of Toussaint; and they were now at leisure to watch, from +the heights above their hut (their home henceforth), the departure of +all who bore their name. They were left alone, but not altogether +forlorn. They called each other father and daughter; and here they +could freely, and for ever, mourn Moyse. + +Christophe received the message. It was not needed to rouse him to take +upon himself, or to share with Dessalines, the office of him who was +gone. The thoughts of his heart were told to none. They were +unspeakable, except by the language of deeds. His deeds proclaimed +them: and after his faithful warfare, during his subsequent mild reign, +his acts of liberality, wisdom, and mercy, showed how true was his +understanding of the mission of L'Ouverture. + +There were many to share his work to-day. Dessalines was the chief: but +leaders sprang up wherever soldiers appeared, asking to be led; and that +was everywhere, from the moment of the report of the abduction of +Toussaint. Clerveaux revolted from the French, and visited on them the +bitterness of his remorse. Maurepas also repented, and was putting his +repentance into action when he was seized, tortured, and murdered, with +his family. Bellair and his wife conducted with new spirit, from this +day, a victorious warfare which was never intermitted, being bequeathed +by their barbarous deaths to their exasperated followers. + +It was true, as Toussaint knew and felt in his solitary prison on the +waters, that the groans which went up from the heights and hollows, the +homes and the fastnesses of the island, were such as could not but unite +in a fearful war-cry; but it was also true, as he had known and felt +during the whole term of his power, that in this war victory could not +be doubtful. He had been made the portal of freedom to his race. The +passions of men might gather about it, and make a conflict, more or less +tremendous and protracted; but the way which God had opened, and guarded +by awakened human hearts, no multitude of rebellious human hands could +close. + + + +CHAPTER FORTY. + +MEETING WINTER. + +It was a glorious day, that twelfth of June, when the _Heros_ sailed +away from the shores of Saint Domingo. Before the _Heros_ could sail +quite away, it was compelled to hover, as it were, about the shadow of +the land--to advance and retreat--to say farewell, apparently, and then +to greet it again. The wind was north-east, so that a direct course was +impossible; and the Ouverture family assembled, with the exception of +Toussaint himself, upon deck, gave vent, again and again, to their +tears--again and again strained their eyes, as the mountains with their +shadowy sides, the still forests, the yellow sands, and the quiet +settlements of the lateral valleys, came into view, or faded away. + +L'Ouverture's cabin, to which he was strictly confined during the +voyage, had a window in the stern, and he, too, had therefore some +change of prospect. He gazed eagerly at every shifting picture of the +land; but most eagerly when he found himself off Cap Samana. With his +pocket-glass he explored and discovered the very point of rough ground +on the height where he stood with Christophe, less than six months +before, to watch the approach, and observe the rendezvous, of the French +fleet. He remembered, as his eye was fixed upon the point, his naming +to Henri this very ship, in which he was now a prisoner, sailing away, +never more to return. + +"Be it so!" he thought, according to his wont. "My blacks are not +conquered, and will never more be slaves." + +The wind soon changed, and the voyage was a rapid one. Short as it was, +it was tedious; for, with the exception of Mars Plaisir, who was +appointed to wait on him, the prisoner saw no one. Again and again he +caught the voices of his children, singing upon deck--no doubt in order +to communicate with him: but, in every instance, almost before he had +begun to listen, the song ceased. Mars Plaisir explained that it was +silenced by the captain's order. No captain's order had power to stop +the prisoner's singing. Every night was Aimee consoled, amidst her +weeping, by the solemn air of her father's favourite Latin Hymn to Our +Lady of the Sea: every morning was Margot roused to hope by her +husband's voice, singing his matin-prayer. Whatever might be the +captain's apprehensions of political danger from these exercises, he +gave over the opposition which had succeeded so well with the women. + +"My father crossed this sea," thought Toussaint: "and little could he +have dreamed that the next of his race would cross it also, a prince and +a prisoner. He, the son of a king, was seized and sold as a slave. His +son, raised to be a ruler by the hand of Him who creates princes +(whether by birth or royalty of soul), is kidnapped, and sacrificed to +the passions of a rival. Such is our life! But in its evil there is +good. If my father had not crossed this sea as a slave, Saint Domingo +would have wanted me; and in me, perhaps, its freedom and civilisation. +If I had not been kidnapped, my blacks might have lacked wrath to +accomplish the victory to which I have led them. If my father is +looking back on this world, I doubt not he rejoices in the degradation +which brought elevation to his race; and, as for me, I lay the few years +of my old age a ready sacrifice on the altar of Africa." + +Sometimes he amused himself with the idea of surveying, at last, the +Paris of which he had heard so much. Oftener, however, he dwelt with +complacency on the prospect of seeing Bonaparte--of meeting his rival, +mind to mind. He knew that Bonaparte's curiosity about him was eager, +and he never doubted that he should be called to account personally for +his government, in all its details. He did not consider that the great +captain of the age might fear to meet his victim--might shrink from the +eye of a brother-soldier whom he had treated worse than a felon. + +Time and disappointment taught the prisoner this. None of his dreams +were verified. In Brest harbour he was hurried from the ship--allowed a +parting embrace of his family upon deck--no more; not a sentence of +conversation, though all the ship's crew were by to hear. Mars Plaisir +alone was allowed to accompany him. Two hurried whispers alone were +conveyed to his ear. Placide assured him (yet how could it be?) that +Monsieur Pascal was in France and would exert himself. And Margot told +him, amidst her sobs, that she had done the one only thing she could-- +she had prayed for Bonaparte, as she promised, that night of prophetic +woe at Pongaudin. + +Nothing did he see of Paris but some of the dimly-lighted streets, as he +was conveyed, at night, to the prison of the Temple. During the weeks +that he was a prisoner there, he looked in vain for a summons to the +presence of the First Consul, or for the First Consul's appearance in +his apartment. One of Bonaparte's aides, Caffarelli, came indeed, and +brought messages: but these messages were only insulting inquiries about +the treasures--the treasures buried in the mornes;--for ever these +treasures! This recurring message, with its answer, was all the +communication he had with Bonaparte; and the hum and murmur from the +streets were all that he knew of Paris. When Bonaparte, nettled with +the reply--"The treasures I have lost are far other than those you +seek,"--was convinced that no better answer would be obtained, he gave +the order which had been impending during those weeks of confinement in +the Temple. + +When Bonaparte found his first leisure, after the fetes and bustle +occasioned in August by his being made First Consul for life, he issued +his commands regarding the disposal of his West Indian prisoner: and +presently Toussaint was traversing France, with Mars Plaisir for his +companion in captivity--with an officer, as a guard, inside the closed +carriage; another guard on the box; and one, if not two, mounted in +their rear. + +The journey was conducted under circumstances of great mystery. The +blinds of the carriage were never let down; provisions were served out +while the party was in full career; and the few baitings that were made +were contrived to take place, either during the night, or in +unfrequented places. It was clear that the complexion of the strangers +was not to be seen by the inhabitants. All that Toussaint could learn +was that they were travelling south-east. + +"Have you mountains in your island?" asked the officer, letting down the +blind just so much, when the carriage turned a corner of the road, as to +permit to himself a glimpse of the scenery. "We are entering the Jura. +Have you mountains in your island?" + +Toussaint left it to Mars Plaisir to answer this question; which he did +with indignant volubility, describing the uses and the beauties of the +heights of Saint Domingo, from the loftiest peaks which intercept the +hurricane, to the lowest, crested with forts or spreading their +blossoming groves to the verge of the valleys. + +"We too have fortresses on our heights," said the officer. "Indeed, you +will be in one of them before night. When we are on the other side of +Pontarlier, we will look about us a little." + +"Then, on the other side of Pontarlier, we shall meet no people," +observed Mars Plaisir. + +"People! Oh, yes! we have people everywhere in France." + +When Pontarlier was passed, and the windows of the carriage were thrown +open, the travellers perceived plainly enough why this degree of liberty +was allowed. The region was so wild, that none were likely to come +hither in search of the captives. There were inhabitants; but few +likely to give information as to who had passed along the road. There +were charcoal-burners up on the hill-side; there were women washing +clothes in the stream which rushed along, far below in the valley; the +miller was in his mill, niched in the hollow beside the waterfall; and +there might still be inmates in the convent which stood just below the +firs, on the knoll to the left of the road. But by the wayside, there +were none who, with curious eyes, might mark, and with eager tongue +report, the complexion of the strangers who were rapidly whirled along +towards Joux. + +Toussaint shivered as the chill mountain air blew in. Perhaps what he +saw chilled him no less than what he felt. He might have unconsciously +expected to see something like the teeming slopes of his own mountains, +the yellow ferns, the glittering rocks, shining like polished metal in +the sun. Instead of these, the scanty grass was of a blue-green; the +stunted firs were black; and the patches of dazzling white intermingled +with them formed a contrast of colour hideous to the eye of a native of +the tropics. + +"That is snow," exclaimed Mars Plaisir to his master, with the pride of +superior experience. + +"I know it," replied Toussaint, quietly. + +The carriage now laboured up a steep ascent. The _brave homme_ who +drove alighted on one side, and the guard on the other, and walked up +the hill, to relieve the horses. The guard gathered such flowers as met +his eye; and handed into the carriage a blue gentian which had till now +lingered on the borders of the snows,--or a rhododendron, for which he +had scaled a crag. His officer roughly ordered him not to leave the +track. + +"If we had passed this way two or three months earlier," he said +complacently to his prisoners, "we should have found cowslips here and +there, all along the road. We have a good many cowslips in early +summer. Have you cowslips in your island?" + +Toussaint smiled as he thought of the flower-strewn savannahs, where +more blossoms opened and perished in an hour than in this dreary region +all the summer through. He heard Mars Plaisir compelled to admit that +he had never seen cowslips out of France. + +At length, after several mountings and dismountings of the driver and +guard, they seemed, on entering a defile, to apply themselves seriously +to their business. The guard cast a glance along the road, and up the +sides of the steeps, and beckoned to the horsemen behind to come on; and +the driver repeatedly cracked his whip. Silence settled down on the +party within the carriage; for all understood that they drew near the +fortress. In silence they wound through the defile, till all egress +seemed barred by a lofty crag. The road, however, passed round its +base, and disclosed to view a small basin among the mountains, in the +midst of which rose the steep which bore the fortress of Joux. At the +foot of this steep lay the village; a small assemblage of sordid +dwellings. At this village four roads met, from as many defiles which +opened into this centre. A mountain-stream gushed along, now by the +road-side, now winding and growing quieter among the little plot of +green fields which lay in the rear of the castle rock. This plot of +vivid green cheered, for a moment, the eye of the captives; but a second +glance showed that it was but a swamp. This swamp, crags, firs, and +snow, with the dirty village, made up the prospect. As for the +inhabitants--as the carriage stopped short of the village, none were to +be seen, but a girl with her distaff amidst a flock of goats, and some +soldiers on the castle walls above. + +There appeared to be but one road up the rock--a bridle or foot road to +the right, too narrow and too steep for any carriage. Where this joined +the main road the carriage stopped; and the prisoners were desired to +alight. + +"We must trouble you to walk up this hill," said the officer, "unless +you prefer to mount, and have your horse led." + +Before he had finished speaking, Toussaint was many paces in advance of +his guards. But few opportunities had he enjoyed, of late, of +exercising his limbs. He believed that this would be the last; and he +sprang up the rocky pathway with a sense of desperate pleasure. Panting +and heated, the most active of the soldiers reached the summit some +moments after him. Toussaint had made use of those few moments. He had +fixed in his memory the loading points of the landscape towards the +east--the bearings of the roads which opened glimpses into two valleys +on that side--the patches of enclosure--the nooks of pasture where cows +were grazing, and children were at play--these features of the landscape +he eagerly comprehended--partly for use, in case of any opportunity of +escape; partly for solace, if he should not henceforth be permitted to +look abroad. + +A few, and but a few, more moments he had, while the drawbridge was +lowered, the portcullis raised, and the guard sent in with some order +from his officer. Toussaint well knew that that little plot of fields, +with its winding stream, was the last verdure that he might ever see. +The snowy summits which peered over the fir-tops were prophets of death +to him; for how should he, who had gone hither and thither under the sun +of the tropics for sixty years, live chained among the snows? Well did +he know this; yet he did not wait to be asked to pass the bridge. + +The drawbridge and the courtyard were both deserted. Not a soldier was +to be seen. Mars Plaisir muttered his astonishment, but his master +understood, that the presence of negro prisoners in the fortress was not +to become known. He read in this incident a prophecy of total +seclusion. + +They were marched rapidly through the courtyard, into a dark passage, +where they were desired to stop. In a few moments Toussaint heard the +tramp of feet about the gate, and understood that the soldiers had been +ordered back to their post. + +"The Commandant," the officer announced to his prisoners; and the +Commandant Rubaut entered the dim passage. Toussaint formed his +judgment of him, to a certain extent, in a moment. Rubaut endeavoured +to assume a tone of good-humoured familiarity; but there appeared +through this a misgiving as to whether he was thus either letting +himself down, on the one hand, or, on the other, encroaching on the +dignity of the person he addressed. His prisoner was a negro; but then +he had been the recognised Commander-in-Chief of Saint Domingo. One +symptom of awkwardness was, that he addressed Toussaint by no sort of +title. + +"We have had notice of your approach," said he; "which is fortunate, as +it enables me to conduct you at once to your apartment. Will you +proceed? This way. A torch, Bellines! We have been looking for you +these two days; which happens very well, as we have been enabled to +prepare for you. Torches, Bellines! This way. We mount a few steps, +you perceive. We are not taking you underground, though I call for +lights; but this passage to the left, you perceive, is rather dark. +Yes, that is our well; and a great depth it is--deeper, I assure you, +than this rock is high. What do they call the depth, Chalot? Well, +never mind the depth! You can follow me, I believe, without waiting for +a light. We cannot go wrong. Through this apartment to the left." + +Toussaint, however, chose to wait for Bellines and his torch. He chose +to see what he could of the passages of his prison. If this vault in +which he stood were not underground, it was the dreariest apartment from +which the daylight had ever been built out. In the moment's pause +occasioned by his not moving on when desired, he heard the dripping of +water as in a well. + +Bellines appeared, and his torch showed the stone walls of the vault +shining with the trickling of water. A cold steam appeared to thicken +the air, oppress the lungs, and make the torch burn dim. + +"To what apartment can this be the passage?" thought Toussaint. "The +grave is warm compared with this." + +A glance of wretchedness from Mars Plaisir, seen in the torchlight, as +Bellines passed on to the front, showed that the poor fellow's spirits, +and perhaps some visions of a merry life among the soldiers, had melted +already in the damps of this vault. Rubaut gave him a push, which +showed that he was to follow the torch-bearer. + +Through this vault was a passage, dark, wet, and slippery. In the +left-hand wall of this passage was a door, studded with iron nails +thickly covered with rust. The key was in this door. During the +instant required for throwing it wide, a large flake of ice fell from +the ceiling of the passage upon the head of Toussaint. He shook it off, +and it extinguished the torch. + +"You mean to murder us," said he, "if you propose to place us here. Do +you not know that ice and darkness are the negro's poison? Snow, too," +he continued, advancing to the cleft of his dungeon wall, at the outward +extremity of which was his small grated window. "Snow piled against +this window now! We shall be buried under it in winter." + +"You will have good fires in winter." + +"In winter! Yes! this night; or I shall never see winter." + +"This night! Oh, certainly! You can have a fire, though it is not +usual with us at this season. Bellines--a fire here immediately." + +He saw his prisoner surveying, by the dim light from the deep window, +the miserable cell--about twenty-eight feet by thirteen, built of blocks +of stone, its vaulted ceiling so low that it could be touched by the +hand; its floor, though planked, rotten and slippery with wet; and no +furniture to be seen but a table, two chairs, and two heaps of straw in +opposite corners. + +"I am happy," said the Commandant, "to have been able to avoid putting +you underground. The orders I have had, from the First Consul himself, +as to your being _mis au secret_, are very strict. Notwithstanding +that, I have been able, you see, to place you in an apartment which +overlooks the courtyard; and which, too, affords you other objects"-- +pointing through the gratings to the few feet of the pavement without, +and the few yards of the perpendicular rock opposite, which might be +seen through the loop-hole. + +"How many hours of the day and night are we to pass in tills place?" + +"How many hours? We reckon twenty-four hours to the day and night, as +is the custom in Europe," replied Rubaut; whether in ignorance or irony, +his prisoner could not, in the dim twilight, ascertain. He only learned +too surely that no exit from this cell was to be allowed. + +Firewood and light were brought. Rubaut, eager to be busy till he could +go, and to be gone as soon as possible, found fault with some +long-deceased occupant of the cell, for having covered its arched +ceiling with grotesque drawings in charcoal; and then with Bellines, for +not having dried the floor. Truly the light gleamed over it as over a +pond. Bellines pleaded in his defence that the floor had been dried +twice since morning; but that there was no stopping the melting of the +ice above. The water would come through the joints till the winter +frosts set in. + +"Ay, the winter frosts--they will set all to rights. They will cure the +melting of the ice, no doubt." Turning to his prisoners, he +congratulated himself on not being compelled to search their persons. +The practice of searching was usual, but might, he rejoiced to say, be +dispensed with on the present occasion. He might now, therefore, have +the pleasure of wishing them a good evening. + +Pointing to the two heaps of straw, he begged that his prisoners would +lay down their beds in any part of the cell which pleased them best. +Their food, and all that they wanted, would be brought to the door +regularly. As for the rest, they would wait upon each other. Having +thus exhausted his politeness, he quitted the cell; and lock, bolt, and +bar were fastened upon the captives. + +By the faint light, Toussaint then perceived that his companion was +struggling with laughter. When Mars Plaisir perceived by his master's +smile that he had leave to give way, he laughed till the cell rang +again, saying-- + +"Wait upon each other! His Excellency wait upon me! His Excellency +wait upon anybody!" + +"There would be nothing new in that. I have endeavoured to wait upon +others all my life. Rarely does Providence grant the favour to wait +upon so many." + +Mars Plaisir did not comprehend this, and therefore continued-- + +"These whites think that we blacks are created to be serving, serving +always--always serving." + +"And they are right. Their mistake is in not seeing that the same is +the case with all other men." + +In his incessant habit of serving those about him, Toussaint now +remembered that it would be more kind to poor Mars Plaisir to employ +him, than to speak of things which he could not comprehend. He signed +to him, therefore, to shake down the straw on each side the fireplace. +Mars Plaisir sacrificed some of his own bundle to wipe down the wet +walls; but it was all in vain. During the silence, while his master was +meditating at the window, the melancholy sound of falling water--drip, +drip--plash, plash--was heard all around, within and without the cell. +When he had wiped down the walls, from the door in the corner round to +the door again, the place from which he had set out was as wet as ever, +and his straw was spoiled. He angrily kicked the wet straw into the +fire; the consequence of which was that the cell was filled with smoke, +almost to suffocation. + +"Ask for more," said Toussaint. + +Mars Plaisir shouted, knocked at the door, and used every endeavour to +make himself heard; but in vain. No one came. + +"Take some of mine," said Toussaint. "No one can lie on this floor." + +Mars Plaisir shook his head. He proceeded mournfully to spread the +other heap of straw; but a large flake of ice had fallen upon it from +the corner of the walls, and it was as wet as that which he had burned. + +This was too much for poor Mars Plaisir. He looked upon his master, now +spreading his thin hands over the fire, his furrowed face now and then +lighted up by the blaze which sprang fitfully through the smoke--he +thought of the hall of audience at Port-au-Prince, of the gardens at +Pongaudin, of the Place d'Armes at Cap Francais on review-days, of the +military journeys and official fetes of the Commander-in-Chief, and he +looked upon him now. He burst into tears as uncontrollable as his +laughter had been before. Peeling his master's hand upon his shoulder, +he considered it necessary to give a reason for his grief, and sobbed +out-- + +"They treat your Excellency as if your Excellency were nobody. They +give your Excellency no title. They will not even call you General." + +Toussaint laughed at this cause of grief in such a place; but Mars +Plaisir insisted upon it. + +"How would they like it themselves? What would the First Consul himself +say if he were a prisoner, and his gaolers refused him his titles?" + +"I do not suppose him to be a man of so narrow a heart, and so low a +soul, as that such a trifle could annoy him. Cheer up, if that be all." + +Mars Plaisir was far from thinking this all; but his tears and sobs +choked him in the midst of his complaints. Toussaint turned again to +the fire, and presently began to sing one of the most familiar songs of +Saint Domingo. He had not sung a stanza before, as he had anticipated, +his servant joined in, rising from his attitude of despair, and singing +with as much animation as if he had been on the Haut-du-Cap. This was +soon put a stop to by a sentinel, who knocked at the door to command +silence. + +"They cannot hear us if we want dry straw," said Mars Plaisir, +passionately: "and yet we cannot raise a note but they must stop us." + +"We are caged birds; and you know Denis's canary might sing only when it +pleased his master. Have I not seen even you cover up the cage? But +sing--sing softly, and they may not hear you." + +When supper was brought, fresh straw and more firewood were granted. At +his master's bidding, and under the influence of these comforts, Mars +Plaisir composed himself to sleep. + +Toussaint sat long beside the fire. He could not have slept. The weeks +that had passed since he left Saint Domingo had not yet reconciled his +ear to the silence of a European night. At sea, the dash of the waves +against the ship's side had lulled him to rest. Since he had landed, he +had slept little, partly from privation of exercise, partly from the +action of over-busy thoughts; but also, in part, from the absence of +that hum of life which, to the natives of the tropics, is the incentive +to sleep and its accompaniment. Here, there was but the crackle of the +burning wood, and the plashing of water, renewed from minute to minute, +till it became a fearful doubt--a passing doubt, but very fearful-- +whether his ear could become accustomed to the dreary sound, or whether +his self-command was to be overthrown by so small an agency as this. +From such a question he turned, by an effort, to consider other evils of +his condition. It was a cruel aggravation of his sufferings to have his +servant shut up with him. It imposed upon him some duties, it was true; +and was, in so far, a good; but it also imposed most painful restraints. +He had a strong persuasion that Bonaparte had not given up the pursuit +of his supposed treasures, or the hope of mastering all his designs, +real or imaginary; and he suspected that Mars Plaisir would be left long +enough with him to receive the overflowings of his confidence (so hard +to restrain in such circumstances as theirs!) and would then be tampered +with by the agents of the First Consul. What was the nature and +efficacy of their system of cross-examination, he knew; and he knew how +nothing but ignorance could preserve poor Mars Plaisir from treachery. +Here, therefore--here, in this cell, without resource, without +companionship, without solace of any kind, it would be necessary, +perhaps, through long months, to set a watch upon his lips, as strict as +when he dined with the French Commissaries at Government-House, or when +he was weighing the Report of the Central Assembly, regarding a Colonial +constitution. For the reserve which his function had imposed upon him +at home, he had been repaid by a thousand enjoyments. Now, no more +sympathy, no more ministering from his family!--no more could he open to +Margot his glory in Placide, his hopes from Denis, his cares for his +other children, to uphold them under a pressure of influences which were +too strong for them; no more could he look upon the friendly face of +Henri, and unbosom himself to him in sun or shade; no more could he look +upon the results of his labours in the merchant fleets on the sea, and +the harvests burdening the plains! No more could happy voices, from a +thousand homes, come to him in blessing and in joy! No more music, no +more sunshine, no more fragrance; no more certainty, either, that others +were now enjoying what he had parted with for ever! Not only might he +never hear what had ensued upon the "truce till August," but he must +carefully conceal his anxiety to hear--his belief that there were such +tidings to be told. In the presence of Mars Plaisir, he could scarcely +even think of that which lay heaviest at his heart--of what Henri had +done, in consequence of his abduction--of his poor oppressed blacks-- +whether they had sunk under the blow for the time, and so delayed the +arrival of that freedom which they must at length achieve; or whether +they had risen, like a multitudinous family of bereaved children, to +work out the designs of the father who had been snatched from them. Of +all this there could be no speech (scarcely a speculation in his secret +soul) in the presence of one who must, if he heard, almost necessarily +become a traitor. And then his family! From them he had vanished; and +he must live as if they had vanished from his very memory. They were, +doubtless, all eye, all ear: for ever watching to know what had become +of him. For their personal safety, now that he was helpless, he trusted +there was little cause for fear; but what peace of mind could they +enjoy, while in ignorance of his fate? He fancied them imploring of +their guardians tidings of him, in vain; questioning the four winds for +whispers of his retreat; pacing every cemetery for a grave that might be +his; gazing up at the loopholes of every prison, with a fear that he +might be there; keeping awake at midnight, for the chance of a visit +from his injured spirit; or seeking sleep, in the dim hope that he might +be revealed to them in a dream. And all this must be but a dim dream to +him, except in such an hour as this--a chance hour when no eye was upon +him! The reconciling process was slow--but it was no less sure than +usual. + +"Be it so!" was, as usual, his conclusion--"Be it so! for as long as +Heaven pleases--though that cannot be long. The one consolation of +being buried alive, soul or body--or both, as in this case--is, that +release is sure and near. This poor fellow's spirit will die within +him, and his body will then be let out--the consummation most necessary +for him. And my body, already failing, will soon die, and my work be +done. To die, and to die thus, is part of my work; and I will do it as +willingly as in the field. Hundreds, thousands of my race have died for +slavery, cooped up, pining, suffocated in slave-ships, in the wastes of +the sea. Hundreds and thousands have thus died, without knowing the end +for which they perished. What is it, then, for one to die of cold in +the wastes of the mountains, for freedom, and knowing that freedom is +the end of his life and his death? What is it? If I groan, if I +shrink, may my race curse me, and my God cast me out!" + +A warmer glow than the dying embers could give passed through his frame; +and he presently slept, basking till morning in dreams of his sunny +home. + + + +CHAPTER FORTY ONE. + +HALF FREE. + +Autumn faded, and the long winter of the Jura came on, without bringing +changes of any importance to the prisoners--unless it were that, in +addition to the wood-fire, which scarcely kept up the warmth of life in +their bodies, they were allowed a stove. This indulgence was not in +answer to any request of theirs. Toussaint early discovered that Rubaut +would grant nothing that was asked for, but liked to bestow a favour +spontaneously, now and then. This was a clear piece of instruction; by +which, however, Mars Plaisir was slow to profit. Notwithstanding his +master's explanations and commands, and his own promises, fervently +given when they were alone, he could never see the Commandant without +pouting out all his complaints, and asking for everything relating to +external comfort that his master had been accustomed to at Pongaudin. A +stove, not being among the articles of furniture there, was not asked +for; and thus this one comfort was not intercepted by being named. +Books were another. Mars Plaisir had been taught to read and write in +one of the public schools in the island; but his tastes did not lie in +the direction of literature; and he rarely remembered that he possessed +the accomplishment of being able to read, except when circumstances +called upon him to boast of his country and his race. Books were +therefore brought, two at a time, with the Commandant's compliments; two +at a time, for the rule of treating the prisoners as equals was exactly +observed. This civility brought great comfort to Toussaint--the +greatest except solitude. He always chose to suppose that Mars Plaisir +was reading when he held a book: and he put a book into his hands daily +when he opened his own. Many an hour did he thus obtain for the +indulgence of his meditations; and while his servant was wondering how +he could see to read by the dim light which came in at the window--more +dim each day, as the snow-heap there rose higher--or by the fitful flame +of the fire, his thoughts were far away, beating about amidst the +struggle then probably going on in Saint Domingo; or exploring, with +wonder and sorrow, the narrow and darkened passages of that mind which +he had long taken to be the companion of his own; or springing forward +into the future, and reposing in serene faith on the condition of his +people when, at length, they should possess their own souls, and have +learned to use their human privileges. Many a time did Mars Plaisir, +looking off from a volume of the Philosophical Dictionary, which yielded +no amusement to him, watch the bright smile on his master's face, and +suppose it owing to the jokes in the Racine he held, when that smile +arose from pictures formed within of the future senates, schools, +courts, and virtuous homes, in which his dusky brethren would hereafter +be exercising and securing their lights. Not ungratefully did he use +his books the while. He read and enjoyed; but his greatest obligations +to them were for the suggestions they afforded, the guidance they +offered to his thoughts to regions amidst which his prison and his +sufferings were forgotten. + +At times, the servant so far broke through his habitual deference for +his master as to fling down his book upon the table, and then beg +pardon, saying that they should both go mad if they did not make some +noise. When he saw the snow falling perpetually, noiseless as the dew, +he longed for the sheeted rains of his own winter, splashing as if to +drown the land. Here, there was only the eternal drip, drip, which his +ear was weary of months ago. + +"Cannot you fancy it rain-drops falling from a palm-leaf? Shut your +eyes and try," said his master. + +It would not do. Mars Plaisir complained that the Commandant had +promised that this drip should cease when the frosts of winter came. + +"So it might, but for our stove. But then our ears would have been +frozen up, too. We should have been underground by this time--which +they say we are not now, though it is hard, sometimes to believe them. +However, we shall hear something by-and-by that will drown the drip. +Among these mountains, there must be thunder. In the summer, Mars +Plaisir, we may hear thunder." + +"In the summer!" exclaimed Mars Plaisir, covering his face with his +hands. + +"That is, not you, but I. I hope they will let you out long before the +summer." + +"Does your Excellency hope so?" cried Mars Plaisir, springing to his +feet. + +"Certainly, my poor fellow. The happiest news I expect ever to hear is +that you are to be released: and this news I do expect to hear. They +will not let you go home, to tell where I am; but they will take you out +of this place." + +"Oh, your Excellency! if you think so, would your Excellency be pleased +to speak for me--to ask the Commandant to let me out? If you will tell +him that my rheumatism will not let me sleep--I do not want to go home-- +I do not want to leave your Excellency, except for your Excellency's +good. I would say all I could for you, and kneel to the First Consul; +and, if they would not set you free, I would--" Here his voice faltered, +but he spoke the words--"I would come back into your Excellency's +service in the summer--when I had got cured of my rheumatism. If you +would speak a word to the Commandant!" + +"I would, if I were not sure of injuring you by doing so. Do you not +see that nothing is to be granted us that we ask for? Speak not another +word of liberty, and you may have it. Ask for it, and you are here for +life--or for my life. Remember!" + +Mars Plaisir stood deep in thought. + +"You have never asked for your liberty?" said his master. "No. I knew +that, for my sake, you had not. Has no one ever mentioned liberty to +you? I understand," he continued, seeing an expression of confusion in +the poor fellow's face. "Do not tell me anything; only hear me. If +freedom should be offered to you, take it. It is my wish--it is my +command. Is there more wood? None but this?" + +"None but this damp wood that chokes us with smoke. They send us the +worst wood--the green, damp wood that the poorest of the whites in the +castle will not use," cried Mars Plaisir, striving to work off his +emotions in a fit of passion. He kicked the unpromising log into the +fireplace as he exclaimed-- + +"They think the worst of everything good enough for us, because we are +blacks. Oh! oh!" Here his wrath was aggravated by a twinge of +rheumatism. "They think anything good enough for blacks." + +"Let them think so," said his master, kindly. "God does not. God did +not think so when He gave us the soil of Africa, and the sun of Saint +Domingo. When he planted the gardens of the world with palms, it was +for the blacks. When He spread the wide shade of the banyan, He made a +tent for the blacks. When He filled the air with the scent of the +cinnamon and the cacao, was it not for the blacks to enjoy the +fragrance? Has He not given them music? Has he not given them love and +a home? What has He not given them? Let the whites think of us as they +will! They shall be welcome to a share of what God gave the blacks, +though they return us nothing better than wet wood, to warm us among +their snows." + +"It is true," said Mars Plaisir, his complacency completely +restored--"God thinks nothing too good for the blacks. I will tell the +First Consul so, if--" + +"The First Consul would rather hear something else from you: and you +know, Mars Plaisir, the whites laugh at us for our boastings. However, +tell the First Consul what you will." + +Again was Mars Plaisir silenced, and his countenance confused. +Perpetually, from this hour did he drop words which showed an +expectation of seeing the First Consul--words which were never noticed +by his master. Every time that the increasing weakness and pain under +which Toussaint suffered forced themselves on his servant's +observation--whenever the skeleton hands were rubbed in his own, to +relieve cramps and restore warmth; or the friendly office was returned, +in spite of the shame and confusion of the servant at finding himself +thus served--with every drift of snow which blocked up the window--and +every relaxation of frost, which only increased the worse evil of the +damp--Mars Plaisir avowed or muttered the persuasive things he would say +to the First Consul. + +Toussaint felt too much sympathy to indulge in much contempt for his +companion. He, too, found it hard to be tortured with cramps, and wrung +by spasms--to enjoy no respite from vexations of body and spirit. He, +too, found the passage to the grave weary and dreary. And, as for an +interview with Bonaparte, for how long had this been his first desire! +How distinctly had it of late been the reserve of his hope! Reminding +himself, too, of the effects on the wretched of an indefinite hope, such +as the unsettled mind and manners of his servant convinced him, more and +more, had been held out--he could not, in the very midst of scenes of +increasing folly and passion, despise poor Mars Plaisir. He mistrusted +him, however, and with a more irksome mistrust continually, while he +became aware that Mars Plaisir was in the habit of lamenting Saint +Domingo chiefly for the sake of naming Christophe and Dessalines, the +companies in the mornes, the fever among the whites, and whatever might +be most likely to draw his master into conversation on the hopes and +resources of the blacks. He became more and more convinced that the +weakness of his companion was practised upon, and possibly his +attachment to his master, by promises of good to both, on condition of +information furnished. He was nearly certain that he had once heard the +door of the cell closed gently, as he was beginning to awake, in the +middle of the night; and he was quite sure that he one day saw Mars +Plaisir burn a note, as he replenished the fire, while he thought his +master was busy reading. Not even these mysterious proceedings could +make Toussaint feel anything worse than sorrowing pity for Mars Plaisir. + +The Commandant had ceased to visit his prisoners. During the rest of +the winter, he never came. He sent books occasionally, but less +frequently. The supply of firewood was gradually diminished; and so was +the quantity of food. The ailments of the prisoners were aggravated, +from day-to-day; and if the Commandant had favoured them with his +presence, he would have believed that he saw two dusky shadows amidst +the gloom of their cell, rather than men. + +One morning, Toussaint awoke, slowly and with difficulty, from a sleep +which appeared to have been strangely sound for one who could not move a +limb without pain, and who rarely, therefore, slept for many minutes +together. It must have been strangely long, too; for the light was as +strong as it had ever been at noon in this dim cell. Before he rose, +Toussaint felt that there was sunshine in the air; and the thought that +spring was come, sent a gleam of pleasure through his spirit. It was +true enough. As he stood before the window, something like a shadow +might be seen on the floor. No sky--not a shred the breadth of his +hand--was to be seen. For six months past, he had behold neither cloud, +nor star, nor the flight of a bird. But, casting a glance up to the +perpendicular rock opposite, he saw that it faintly reflected sunshine. +He saw, moreover, something white moving--some living creature upon this +rock. It was a young kid, standing upon a point or ledge imperceptible +below--by its action, browsing upon some vegetation which could not be +seen so far-off. + +"Mars Plaisir! Mars Plaisir!" cried Toussaint. "Spring is come! The +world is alive again, even here. Mars Plaisir!" There was no answer. + +"He has slept deeply and long, like myself," said he, going, however, +into the darker corner of the cell where Mars Plaisir's bed was laid. +The straw was there, but no one was on it. The stove was warm, but +there was no fire in the fireplace. The small chest allowed for the +prisoners' clothes was gone--everything was gone but the two volumes in +which they had been reading the night before. Toussaint shook these +books, to see if any note had been hidden in them. He explored them at +the window, to discover any word of farewell that might be written on +blank leaf or margin. There was none there; nor any scrap of paper +hidden in the straw, or dropped upon the floor. Mars Plaisir was gone, +and had left no token. + +"They drugged me--hence my long sleep," thought Toussaint. "They knew +the poor fellow's weakness, and feared his saying too much, when it came +to parting. I hope they will treat him well, for (thanks to my care for +him!) he never betrayed me to them. I treated him well in taking care +that he should not betray me to them, while they yet so far believed +that he might as to release him. It is all well; and I am alone! It is +almost like being in the free air. I am almost as free as yonder kid on +the rock. My wife! my children! I may name you all now--name you in my +thoughts and in my song. Placide! are you rousing the nations to ask +the tyrant where I am? Henri! have you buried the dead whites yet in +Saint Domingo? and have your rains done weeping the treason of those +dead against freedom? Let it be so, Henri! Your rains have washed out +the blood of this treason; and your dews have brought forth the verdure +of your plains, to cover the graves of the guilty and the fallen. Take +this lesson home, Henri! Forget--not me, for you must remember me in +carrying on my work--but forget how you lost me. Believe that I fell in +the mornes, and that you buried me there; believe this, rather than shed +one drop of blood for me. Learn of God, not of Bonaparte, how to bless +our race. Poison their souls no more with blood. The sword and the +fever have done their work, and tamed your tyrants. As for the rest, +act with God for our people! Give them harvests to their hands; and +open the universe of knowledge before their eyes. Give them rest and +stillness in the summer heats: and shelter them in virtuous and busy +homes from the sheeted rains. It is enough that blood was the price of +freedom--a heavy price, which has been paid. Let there be no such +barter for vengeance. My children, hear me! Wherever you are--in the +court of our tyrant, or on the wide sea, or on the mountain-top, where +the very storms cannot make themselves heard so high--yet let your +father's voice reach you from his living grave! No vengeance! +Freedom--freedom to the last drop of blood in the veins of our race! +Let our island be left to the wild herds and the reptiles, rather than +be the habitation of slaves: but if you have established freedom there, +it is holy ground, and no vengeance must profane it. If you love me and +my race, you must forgive my murderers. Yes, murderers," he pursued in +thought, after dwelling a while on the images of home and familiar +faces, "murderers they already are, doubtless, in intent. I should have +been sent hence long ago, but for the hope of reaching my counsels +through Mars Plaisir. From the eyes of the world I have already +disappeared; and nothing hinders the riddance of me now. Feeble as I +am, the waiting for death may yet be tedious. If tedious for him who +has this day done with me, how tedious for me, who have done with him +and with all the world!--done with them, except as to the affections +with which one may look back upon them from the clear heights on the +other side of the dark valley. That I should pine and shiver long in +the shadows of that valley would be tedious to him who drove me there +before my time, and to me. He has never submitted to what is tedious, +and he will not now." + +The door of the cell was here softly opened, a head showed itself, and +immediately disappeared. Toussaint silently watched the kid, as it +moved from point to point on the face of the rock: and it was with some +sorrow that he at last saw it spring away. Just then, Bellines entered +with the usual miserable breakfast. Toussaint requested fire, to which +Bellines assented. He then asked to have the window opened, that the +air of the spring morning might enter. Bellines shrugged his shoulders, +and observed that the air of these March mornings was sharp. The +prisoner persisted, however; and with the fresh air, there came in upon +him a fresh set of thoughts. Calling Bellines back, he desired, in a +tone of authority, to see the Commandant. + +It was strange to him--he wondered at himself on finding his mind filled +with a new enterprise--with the idea of making a last appeal to Rubaut +for freedom--an appeal to his justice, not to his clemency. With the +chill breeze, there had entered the tinkle of the cow-bell, and the +voices of children singing. These called up a vivid picture of the +valley, as he had seen it on entering his prison--the small green level, +the gushing stream, the sunny rock, the girl with her distaff, tending +the goats. He thought he could show his title to, at least, a free +sight of the face of nature; and the impulse did not immediately die. +During the morning, he listened for footsteps without. After some +hours, he smiled at his own hope, and nearly ceased to listen. The face +of the rock grow dim; the wind rose, and sleet was driven in at the +window: so that he was compelled to use his stiff and aching limbs in +climbing up to shut it. No one had remembered, or had chosen to make +his fire; and he was shivering, as in an ague fit, when, late in the +afternoon, Bellines brought in his second meal, and some fuel. + +"The Commandant?" + +"The Commandant is not in the castle. He is absent to-day." + +"Where?" + +"They say the First Consul has business with him." + +"With me rather," thought Toussaint. He said aloud, "Then he is gone +with my servant?" + +"May be so. They went the same road; but that road leads to many +places." + +"The road from Pontarlier?" + +"Any road--all our roads here lead to many places," said Bellines, as he +went out. + +"Poor Mars Plaisir!" thought Toussaint, as he carefully placed the wood +so as to tempt the feeble blaze. "Our road has seemed the same for the +last eight months; but it leads to widely different points. I rejoice +for him that his has parted off to-day; and for myself, though it shows +that I am near the end of mine. Is it this soldier, with comrades, who +is to end me? Or is it this supper, better drugged than that of last +night? Or will they wait to see whether solitude will kill a busy, +ambitious Commander-in-Chief, as they think me?" + + + +CHAPTER FORTY TWO. + +FREE. + +Day after day passed on, and the prisoner found no change in his +condition--as far, at least, as it depended on his gaolers. He was more +ill as he became enveloped in the damps of the spring; and he grew more +and more sensible of the comfort of being alone. Death by violence, +however, did not come. + +He did not give over his concern for Mars Plaisir because he was glad of +his absence. He inquired occasionally for the Commandant, hoping that, +if he could see Rubaut, he might learn whether his servant was still a +prisoner, and whether his release from his cell had been for freedom, or +for a worse lot than he had left behind. There was no learning from +Bellines, however, whether the Commandant had returned to the fortress, +or who was his lieutenant, if he had not. In the middle of April, the +doubt was settled by the appearance of Rubaut himself in the cell. He +was civil--unusually so--but declared himself unable to give any +information about Mars Plaisir. He had nothing more to do with his +prisoners when they were once taken out of his charge. He had always +business enough upon his hands to prevent his occupying himself with +things and people that were gone by. He had delivered Mars Plaisir into +proper care; and that was the last he knew of him. The man was well at +that time--as well as usual, and pleased enough to be in the open air +again. Rubaut could remember no more concerning him--in fact, had not +thought of him again, from that day to the present. + +"And this is the kind of answer that you would give concerning me, if my +sons should arrive hither in search of me some days after my grave had +been closed?" + +"Come, come! no foreboding!" said Rubaut. "Foreboding is bad." + +"If my sons should present themselves--" proceeded Toussaint-- + +"They will not come here--they cannot come here," interrupted Rubaut. +"No one knows that you are here, but some three or four who will never +tell." + +"How," thought Toussaint, "have they secured Mars Plaisir, that he shall +never tell?" For the poor man's sake, however, he would not ask this +aloud. + +Rubaut continued: "The reason why we cannot have the pleasure of giving +you the range of the fortress is, that the First Consul thinks it +necessary to keep secret the place of your abode--for the good of the +colony, as he says. With one of our own countrymen, this seclusion +might not be necessary, as the good people of the village could hardly +distinguish features from the distance at which they are; and they have +no telescopes--no idea of playing the spy upon us, as we can upon them. +They cannot distinguish features, so high up--" + +"But they could complexion." + +"Exactly so; and it might get abroad that some one of your colour was +here." + +"And if it should get abroad, and some one of my sons, or my wife should +come, your answer would be that you remember nothing--that you cannot +charge your memory with persons and things that are gone by--that you +have had prisoners of all complexions--that some have lived and some +have died--and that you have something else to do than to remember what +became of each. I hope, however, and (as it would be for the advantage +of the First Consul) I believe, that you would have the complaisance to +show them my grave." + +"Come, come! no foreboding! Foreboding is bad," repeated Rubaut. + +Toussaint smiled, and said-- + +"What other employment do you afford me than that of looking into the +past and future, in order to avoid the present? If, turning from the +sickening view which the past presents of the treachery of your race to +mine, of the abuse of my brotherly trust in him by which your ruler has +afflicted our hearts if, turning from this mournful past, I look the +other way, what do I see before me but the open grave?" + +"You are out of spirits," said Rubaut, building up the fire. + +"You wear well, however. You must have been very strong in your best +days. You wear extremely well." + +"I still live; and that I do so is because the sun of my own climate, +and the strength of soul of my best days, shine and glow through me now, +quenching in part even these damps. But I am old, and every day heaps +years on me. However, I am as willing as you that my looking forward +should be for others than myself. I might be able to forebode for +France, and for its ruler." + +Rubaut folded his arms, and leaned, as if anxious to listen, against the +wall beside the fire; but it was so wet that he quickly shifted his +position; still, however, keeping his eyes fixed on his prisoner. + +"And what would you forebode for France, and for her ruler?" he asked. + +"That my country will never again be hers. Her retribution is as sure +as her tyranny has been great. She may send out fleet after fleet, each +bearing an army; but the spirit of freedom will be too strong for them +all. Their bodies will poison the air, and choke the sea, and the names +of their commanders will, one after another, sink in disgrace, before +they will again make slaves of my people in Saint Domingo. How stands +the name of Leclerc at this moment in France?" + +"Leclerc is dead," said Rubaut; repenting, the next moment, that he had +said so much. Toussaint saw this by his countenance, and inquired no +further. + +"He is dead! and twenty thousand Frenchmen with him, who might at this +hour have been enjoying at home the natural wealth of my country, the +fruits of our industry. The time was when I thought your ruler and I-- +the ruler, in alliance with him, of my race in Saint Domingo--were +brothers in soul, as we were apparently in duty and in fortune. +Brothers in soul we were not, as it has been the heaviest grief of my +life to learn. I spurn brotherhood of soul with one whose ambition has +been for himself. Brothers in duty we were; and, if we should yet be +brothers in fortune--if he should fall into the hands of a strong foe-- +But you are saying in your heart, `No foreboding! Foreboding is bad!'" + +Rubaut smiled, and said foreboding was only bad for the spirits; and the +First Consul's spirits were not likely to be affected by anything that +could be said at Joux. To predict bad fortune for him was like looking +for the sun to be put out at noonday; it might pass the time, but would +not dim the sun. + +"So was it said of me," replied the prisoner, "and with the more reason, +because I made no enemies. My enemies have not been of my own making. +Your ruler is making enemies on every hand; and alas! for him if he +lives to meet the hour of retribution! If he, like myself, should fall +into the power of a strong foe--if he should pass his remaining days +imprisoned on a rock, may he find more peace than I should dare look +for, if I had his soul!" + +"There is not a braver man in Europe, or the Indies either, than the +First Consul." + +"Brave towards foes without and sufferings to come. But bravery gives +no help against enemies harboured within, and evils fixed in the past. +What will his bravery avail against the images of France corrupted, of +Europe outraged, of the blacks betrayed and oppressed--of the godlike +power which was put into his hands abused to the purposes of the devil!" + +"But perhaps he would not view his affairs as you do." + +"Then would his bravery avail him no better. If he should be so blind +as to see nothing higher and better than his own acts, then will he see +no higher nor better hope than he has lost. Then will he suffer and die +under the slow torment of personal mortifications and regrets." + +"You say you are sinking under your reverses. You say you are slowly +dying." + +"I am. I shall die of the sickening and pining of sense and limb--of +the wasting of bone and muscle. Day by day is my eye more dim, and my +right arm more feeble. But I have never complained of evils that the +bravery you speak of would not meet. Have I ever said that you have +touched my soul?" + +Rubaut saw the fire in his eye, glanced at his emaciated hand, and felt +that this was true. He could bear the conversation no longer, now that +no disclosures that could serve the First Consul seemed likely to be +made. + +"You are going?" said Toussaint. + +"Yes. I looked in to-day because I am about to leave the fortress for a +few days." + +"If you see the First Consul, tell him what I have now said; and add +that if, like him, I had used my power for myself, he would have had a +power over me which he has not now. I should not then have been here-- +nay, you must hear me--I should not then have been here, crushed beneath +his hand; I should have been on the throne of Saint Domingo--flattered, +as he is, by assurances of my glory and security--but crushed by a +heavier weight than that of his hand; by his image, as that of one +betrayed in my infidelity to his country and nation. Tell him this; +tell him that I perish willingly, if this consequence of my fidelity to +France may be a plea for justice to my race." + +"How people have misrepresented you to me!" said Rubaut, bustling about +the cell, and opening the door to call Bellines. "They told me you were +very silent--rarely spoke." + +"That was true when my duty was to think," said Toussaint. "To-day my +duty has been to speak. Remember that yours, in fidelity to your ruler, +is to repeat to him what I say." + +"More wood, Bellines," said Rubaut, going to the door, to give further +directions in a low voice. Returning, he said, with some hurry of +manner, that, as he was to be absent for two or three days, he had sent +for such a supply of wood and flambeaux as might last some time. More +books should also be brought. + +"When shall we meet again?" asked Toussaint. + +"I don't know. Indeed I do not know," said the Commandant, looking at +his watch by the firelight. His prisoner saw that his hands trembled, +and that he walked with some irresolution to the door. + +"Au revoir!" said Toussaint. + +Rubaut did not reply, but went out, leaving the door standing wide, and +apparently no one to guard it. + +Toussaint's heart beat at the thought that this might give him one more +opportunity of being abroad in the daylight, perhaps in the sun! He +rose to make the attempt; but he was exhausted by the conversation he +had held--the first for so long! His aching limbs failed him; and he +sank down on his bed, from which he did not rise till long after +Bellines had laid down his loads, and left the place. + +The prisoner rose, at length, to walk, as he did many times in the day, +from corner to corner of his cell. At the first turn, by the door, he +struck his foot against something which he upset. It was a pitcher of +water, which, with a loaf of bread, had been put in that unusual place. +The sight was as distinct in its signification as a yawning grave. His +door was to open upon him no more. He was not again to see a human +face. The Commandant was to be absent awhile, and, on returning, to +find his prisoner dead. + +He used all means that he could devise to ascertain whether it were +indeed so. He called Bellines from the door, in the way which Bellines +had never failed to reply to since the departure of Mars Plaisir. +Bellines did not come. He sang aloud, as he had never before been +allowed to sing unchecked, since he entered the fortress. He now sang +unchecked. The hour of the afternoon meal passed, and no one came. The +evening closed, and no bolt had been drawn. The case was clear. + +The prisoner now and then felt a moment's surprise at experiencing so +little recoil from such a fate. He was scarcely conscious even of +repugnance. His tranquillity was doubtless owing, in part, to his +having long contemplated death in this place as certain; to life having +now little left to make its continuance desirable; and to his knowing +himself to be so reduced, that the struggle could not be very long. But +he himself believed his composure to be owing to another cause than any +of these. + +"He who appointed me to the work of such a life as mine," thought the +dying man, "is making its close easy to His servant. I would willingly +have suffered to the extremity of His will: but my work is done; men's +eyes are no longer upon me; I am alone with Him; and He is pleased to +let me enter already upon my everlasting peace. If Father Laxabon were +here, would he now say, as he has often said, and as most men say, that, +looking back upon life from its close, it appears short as the time of +the early rains? Instead of this, how long appear the sixty years that +I have lived! How long, how weary now teems the life when I was a +slave--though much was done, and it was the schooling of my soul for the +work preparing for my hand. My Margot! my children! how quietly did we +then live, as if no change were ever to come, and we were to sit before +our door at Breda every evening, till death should remove us, one by +one! While I was composing my soul to patience by thought and by +reading, how little did I dream that I was so becoming prepared to free +my race, to reign, and then to die of cold and hunger, such as the +meanest slave never knows! Then the next eight years of toil--they seem +longer than all that went before. Doubtless they were lengthened to me, +to make my weak powers equal to the greatness of my task; for every day +of conducting war, and making laws, appeared to me stretched out into a +year. These late seasons of reverse have passed over more rapidly, for +their suffering has been less. While all, even to Henri, have pitied me +during these latter years, they knew not that I was recovering the peace +which I shall now no more lose. It is true that I erred, according to +the common estimate of affairs, in not making myself a king, and +separating my country from France, as France herself is compelling her +to separate at last. It is true, I might now have been reigning there, +instead of dying here; and, what is more worthy of meditation, my people +might now have been laying aside their arms, and beginning a long career +of peace. It might possibly have been so; but at what cost! Their +career of freedom (if freedom it could then have been called) would have +begun in treason and in murder; and the stain would have polluted my +race for ever. Now, they will have freedom still--they cannot but have +it, though it is delayed. And upon this freedom will rest the blessing +of Heaven. We have not fought for dominion, nor for plunder; nor, as +far as I could govern the passions of men, for revenge. We began our +career of freedom in fidelity, in obedience, and in reverence towards +the whites; and therefore may we take to ourselves the blessing of Him +who made us to be free, and demands that we be so with clean hands and a +pure heart. Therefore will the freedom of Saint Domingo be but the +beginning of freedom to the negro race. Therefore may we hope that in +this race will the spirit of Christianity appear more fully than it has +yet shown itself among the proud whites--show itself in its gentleness, +its fidelity, its disinterestedness, and its simple trust. The proud +whites may scorn this hope, and point to the ignorance and the passions +of my people, and say, `Is this your exhibition of the spirit of the +Gospel?' But not for this will we give up our hope. This ignorance, +these passions, are natural to all men, and are in us aggravated and +protracted by our slavery. Remove them by the discipline and the +stimulus of freedom, begun in obedience to God and fidelity to men, and +there remain the love that embraces all--the meek faith that can bear to +be betrayed, but is ashamed to doubt--the generosity that can forgive +offences seventy-and-seven times renewed--the simple, open, joyous +spirit which marks such as are of the kingdom of heaven. Lord! I thank +Thee that Thou hast made me the servant of this race!" + +Never, during the years of his lowliness, or the days of his grandeur, +had Toussaint spent a brighter hour than now, while the spirit of +prophecy (twin-angel with death) visited him, and showed him the realms +of mind which were opening before his race--that countless host whose +van he had himself led to the confines. This spirit whispered something +of the immortality of his own name, hidden, lost as he was in his last +hours. + +"Be it so!" thought he, "if my name can excite any to devotedness, or +give to any the pleasure of being grateful. If my name live, the +goodness of those who name it will be its life; for my true self-will +not be in it. No one will the more know the real Toussaint. The +weakness that was in me when I felt most strong, the reluctance when I +appeared most ready, the acts of sin from which I was saved by accident +alone, the divine constraint of circumstances to which my best deeds +were owing--these things are between me and my God. If my name and my +life are to be of use, I thank God that they exist; but this outward +existence of them is nothing between Him and me. To me henceforward +they no more belong than the name of Epaminondas, or the life of Tell. +Man stands naked on the brink of the grave, his name stripped from him, +and his deeds laid down as the property of the society he leaves behind. +Let the name and deeds I now leave behind be a pride to generations yet +to come--a more innocent pride than they have sometimes, alas! been to +me. I have done with them." + +Toussaint had often known what hunger was--in the mornes he had endured +it almost to extremity. He now expected to suffer less from it than +then, from being able to yield to the faintness and drowsiness which had +then to be resisted. From time to time during his meditations, he felt +its sensations visiting him, and felt them without fear or regret. He +had eaten his loaf when first hungry, and had watched through the first +night, hoping to sleep his long sleep the sooner, when his fire should +at length be burned out. During the day, some faint sounds reached him +from the valley--some tokens of the existence of men. During the two +last nights of his life, his ear was kept awake only by the dropping of +water--the old familiar sound--and the occasional stir of the brands +upon the hearth. About midnight of the second night, he found he could +sit up no longer. With trembling hands he laid on such pieces of wood +as he could lift, lighted another flambeau, and lay down on his straw. +He raised himself but once, hastily and dizzily in the dawn (dawn to +him, but sunrise abroad). His ear had been reached by the song of the +young goatherds, as they led their flock abroad into another valley. +The prisoner had dreamed that it was his boy Denis, singing in the +piazza at Pongaudin. As his dim eye recognised the place, by the +flicker of the expiring flambeau, he smiled at his delusion, and sank +back to sleep again. + +The Commandant was absent three days. On his return, he summoned +Bellines, and said, in the presence of several soldiers-- + +"How is the prisoner there?" pointing in the direction of Toussaint's +cell. + +"He has been very quiet this morning, sir." + +"Very quiet? Do you suppose he is ill?" + +"He was as well as usual the last time I went to him." + +"He has had plenty of everything, I suppose?" + +"Oh, yes, sir. Wood, candle, food, water--everything." + +"Very well. Get lights, and I will visit him." + +Lights were brought. A boy, who carried a lantern, shivered as he saw +how ghastly Bellines' face looked in the yellow gleam, in the dark vault +on the way to the cell, and was not sorry to be told to stay behind, +till called to light the Commandant back again. + +"Have you heard anything?" asked Rubaut of the soldier, in a low voice. + +"Not for many hours. There was a call or two, and some singing, just +after you went; but nothing since." + +"Hush! Listen!" + +They listened motionless for some time; but nothing was heard but the +everlasting plash, which went on all around them. + +"Unbar the door, Bellines." + +He did so, and held the door wide for the Commandant to enter. Rubaut +stalked in, and straight up to the straw bed. He called the prisoner in +a somewhat agitated voice, felt the hand, raised the head, and declared +that he was gone. The candle was burned completely out. Rubaut turned +to the hearth, carefully stirred the ashes, blew among them, and raised +a spark. + +"You observe," he said to Bellines; "his fire was burning when we found +him." + +"Yes, sir." + +"There is more wood and more candle?" + +"Yes, sir; the wood in this corner, and the candle on the table--just +under your hand, sir." + +"Oh, ay, here. Put on some wood, and blow up a flame. Observe, we +found his fire burning." + +"Yes, sir." + +They soon re-appeared in the courtyard, and announced the death of the +prisoner. Rubaut ordered a messenger to be in readiness to ride to +Pontarlier, by the time he should have written a letter. + +"We must have the physicians from Pontarlier," observed the Commandant, +aloud, "to examine the deceased, and declare what he died of. The old +man has not been well for some time past. I have no doubt the +physicians will find that he died of apoplexy, or something of the +kind." + +"No wonder, poor soul!" said a sutler's wife to another woman. + +"No wonder, indeed," replied the other. "My husband died of the heat in +Saint Domingo; and they took this poor man (don't tell it, but he was a +black; I got a sight of him, and he came from Saint Domingo, you may +depend upon it)--they took him out of all that heat, and put him into +that cold, damp place there! No wonder he is dead." + +"Well, I never knew we had a black here!" + +"Don't say I told you, then." + +"I have no doubt--yes, we found his fire burning," said Bellines to the +inquirers round him. "They will find it apoplexy, or some such thing, I +have no doubt of it." + +And so they did, to the entire satisfaction of the First Consul. + +Yet it was long before the inquiring world knew with certainty what had +become of Toussaint L'Ouverture. + + + +APPENDIX. + +Those who feel interest enough in the extraordinary fortunes of +Toussaint L'Ouverture to inquire concerning him from the Biographical +Dictionaries and Popular Histories of the day, will find in them all the +same brief and peremptory decision concerning his character. They all +pronounce him to have been a man of wonderful sagacity, endowed with a +native genius for both war and government; but savage in warfare; +hypocritical in religion--using piety as a political mask; and, in all +his affairs, the very prince of dissemblers. It is true that this +account consists neither with the facts of his life, the opinions of the +people he delivered, nor the state documents of the island he governed. +Yet it is easy to account for. The first notices of him were French, +reported by the discomfited invaders of Saint Domingo to writers imbued +with the philosophy of the days of the Revolution; and later accounts +are copies of these earlier ones. From the time when my attention was +first fixed on this hero, I have been struck with the inconsistencies +contained in all reports of his character which ascribe to him cruelty +and hypocrisy; and, after a long and careful comparison of such views +with his words and deeds, with the evidence obtainable from Saint +Domingo, and with the temper of his times in France, I have arrived at +the conclusion that his character was, in sober truth, such as I have +endeavoured to represent it in the foregoing work. + +I do not mean to say that I am the first who has formed an opinion that +Toussaint was an honest, a religious, and a mild and merciful man. In +an article in the _Quarterly Review_ (Number seventeen) on the "Past and +Present State of Hayti," so interesting an account is given of the great +negro, as to cause some wonder that no one has till now been moved by it +to present the facts of his life in the form of an historical novel. In +that article it is justly observed that the _onus_ rests with those who +accuse Toussaint of hypocrisy to prove their allegation by facts. I +would say the same of the other charge, of cruelty. Meanwhile, I +disbelieve both charges, for these reasons among others:-- + +The wars of Saint Domingo were conducted in a most barbarous spirit +before the time of Toussaint's acquisition of power, and after his +abduction. During the interval, the whole weight of his influence was +given to curb the ferocity of both parties. He pardoned his personal +enemies (as in the instance of the mulattoes in the church), and he +punished in his followers, as the most unpardonable offence they could +commit, any infringement of his rule of "No Retaliation." + +When it is considered that the cruelties perpetrated in the rising of +1791, and renewed after the fall of Toussaint, were invented by the +whites, and copied by the negroes (who were wont to imitate their +masters in all they did), it is no small evidence of L'Ouverture's +magnanimity that he conceived, illustrated, and enforced, in such times, +such a principle as that of No Retaliation. + +All the accounts of him agree that, from his earliest childhood, he was +distinguished by a tenderness of nature which would not let him hurt a +fly. He attached to himself the cattle and horses which were under his +charge when a boy, to a degree which made him famous in a region where +cruelty to animals at the hands of slaves was almost universal. A man +who lived till fifty, remarkable for a singular gentleness and +placability, ought not to be believed sanguinary from that time forward, +on the strength of the unsupported charges of his disappointed enemies. + +Piety was also his undisputed early characteristic. A slave bringing to +the subject of religion the aptitude of the negro nature, early treated +with kindness by a priest, evincing the spirit of piety from his infant +years, finding in it the consolations required by a life of slavery, and +guided by it in a course of the strictest domestic morality, while +surrounded by licentiousness, _may_ well be supposed sincere in his +religion, under a change of circumstances occurring after he was fifty +years of age. The imputation of hypocrisy is not, however, much to be +wondered at when it is considered that, at the time when the first +notices of Toussaint were written at Paris, it was the fashion there to +believe that no wise man could be sincerely religions. + +As for the charge of general and habitual dissimulation, it can only be +said that while no proof of the assertion is offered, there is evidence, +in all the anecdotes preserved of him, of absolute frankness and +simplicity. I rather think that it was the incredible extent of his +simplicity which gave rise to the belief that it was assumed, in order +to hide cunning. The _Quarterly Review_ quotes an anecdote thoroughly +characteristic of the man, which is not introduced into my story, +because, in the abundance of my materials, I found it necessary to avoid +altogether the history of the English transactions in Saint Domingo. It +was only by confining my narrative to the relations between Toussaint +and France that I could keep my tale within limits, and preserve the +clearness of the representation. There are circumstances, however, in +his intercourse with the British, as honourable to Toussaint's character +as any that I have related; and among them is the following, which I +quote from the _Quarterly Review_. + +"General Maitland, previous to the disembarkation of the troops, +returned the visit at Toussaint's camp; and such was his confidence in +the integrity of his character, that he proceeded through a considerable +extent of country, full of armed negroes, with only three attendants. +Roume, the French Commissary, wrote a letter to Toussaint, on this +occasion, advising him to seize his guest, as an act of duty to the +republic: on the route, General Maitland was secretly informed of +Bourne's treachery; but, in full reliance on the honour of Toussaint, he +determined to proceed. On arriving at head-quarters, he was desired to +wait. It was some time before Toussaint made his appearance; at length, +however, he entered the room with two open letters in his hand. `There, +General,' said he, `before we talk together, read these. One is a +letter from the French Commissary--the other is my answer. I could not +see you till I had written my reply, that you might be satisfied how +safe you were with me, and how incapable I am of baseness.'"--_Quarterly +Review_, volume twenty-one, page 442. + +The charge of personal ambition is, above all, contradicted by facts. +If anything is clear in Toussaint's history, it is that his ruin was +owing to his loyalty to France, his misplaced trust in Napoleon, and his +want of personal ambition. He did not, as he might have done, make +himself a sovereign when France was wholly occupied with European +warfare. He did not, as he might have done, prepare his people to +resist the power of the mother-country, when she should at length be at +liberty to reclaim the colony. He sent away the French commissaries +only when, by their ignorance and incompetency, they imperilled the +peace and safety of the colony. He cherished the love of the +mother-country in the hearts of the negroes, to the very last moment-- +till the armament which came to re-establish slavery appeared on the +shores--till it was too late to offer that resistance which would have +made him a king. Christophe's view of this part of his conduct is given +in a manifesto, dated in the eleventh year of the Independence of +Hayti:-- + +"Toussaint L'Ouverture, under his paternal administration, had +reinstated, in full force, law, morals, religion, education, and +industry. Agriculture and commerce were flourishing. He favoured the +white colonists, particularly the planters. Indeed, his attentions and +partialities had been carried to such a length, that he was loudly +blamed for entertaining more affection for them than for those of his +own colour. Nor was this reproach without foundation; for, a few months +before the arrival of the French, he sacrificed his own nephew, General +Moyse, who had disregarded the orders he had given for the protection of +the colonists. That act of the Governor, added to the great confidence +he had placed in the French authorities, was the principal cause of the +feeble resistance the French encountered in Hayti. Indeed, his +confidence in these authorities was such, that he had discharged the +greater part of the regular troops, and sent them back to the tillage of +the soil."--_Haytian papers_, page 158. + +Such conduct is a sufficient answer to the allegation that Toussaint was +actuated by a selfish ambition, cunning in its aims, and cruel in its +use of means. + +Some light is thrown upon the character of his mind by the record of the +books he studied while yet a slave. Rainsford gives a list, which does +not pretend to be complete, but which is valuable as far as it goes. It +appears that in his years of comparative leisure he was completely +engrossed by one book at a time, reading it at all spare moments, +meditating its contents while in the field, and quoting it in +conversation for weeks together. One of the first authors whose works +thus entirely possessed him was Raynal: afterwards, Epictetus, in a +French translation; then others, as follows:-- + +Scriptores de Re Militari. + +Caesar's Commentaries. French translation, by De Crisse. + +Des Claison's History of Alexander and Caesar. + +D'Orleans' History of Revolutions in England and Spain. + +Marshal Saxe's Military Reveries. + +Guischard's Military Memoirs of the Greeks and Romans. + +Herodotus. + +Le Bean's Memoirs of the Academy of Inscriptions and Belles-Lettres. + +Lloyd's Military and Political Memoirs. + +English Socrates, Plutarch, Cornelius Nepos, etcetera, etcetera. + +Great mystery hangs over the tale of Toussaint's imprisonment and death. +It appears that he was confined in the Temple only as long as Napoleon +had hopes of extorting from him information about the treasures, +absurdly reported to have been buried by him in the mornes [Note 1], +under circumstances of atrocious cruelty. It has been suggested that +torture was employed by Bonaparte's aide, Caffarelli, to procure the +desired confession; but I do not know that the conjecture is founded on +any evidence. + +As to the precise mode of L'Ouverture's death, there is no certainty. +The only point on which all authorities agree is, that he was +deliberately murdered; but whether by mere confinement in a cell whose +floor was covered with water, and the walls with ice (a confinement +necessarily fatal to a negro), or by poison, or by starvation in +conjunction with disease, may perhaps never be known. The report which +is, I believe, the most generally believed in France is that which I +have adopted--that the Commandant, when his prisoner was extremely ill, +left the fortress for two or three days, with the key of Toussaint's +cell in his pocket; that, on his return, he found his prisoner dead; and +that he summoned physicians from Pontarlier, who examined the body, and +pronounced a serious apoplexy to be the cause of death. It so happened +that I was able, in the spring of last year, to make some inquiry upon +the spot; the result of which I will relate. + +I was travelling in Switzerland with a party of friends, with whom I had +one day discussed the fortunes and character of Toussaint. I had then +no settled purpose of writing about him, but was strongly urged to it by +my companions. On the morning of the 15th of May, when we were drawing +near Payerne from Freyburg, on our way to Lausanne, I remembered and +mentioned that we were not very far from the fortress of Joux, where +Toussaint's bones lay. My party were all eager that I should visit it. +There were difficulties in the way of the scheme--the chief of which was +that our passports were not so signed as to enable us to enter France; +and the nearest place where the necessary signature could be obtained +was Berne, which we had left behind us the preceding day. I had, +however, very fortunately a Secretary of State's passport, besides the +Prussian Consul's; and this second passport, made out for myself and a +_femme-de-chambre_, had been signed by the French Minister in London. +One of my kind companions offered to cross the frontier with me, as my +_femme-de-chambre_, and to help me in obtaining access to the prison of +Toussaint; an offer I was very thankful to accept. At Payerne, we +separated ourselves and a very small portion of luggage from our party, +whom we promised to overtake at Lausanne in two or three days. We +engaged for the trip a double _char-a-banc_, with two stout little +horses, and a _brave homme_ of a driver, as our courteous landlady at +Payerne assured us. Passing through Yverdun, we reached Orbe by five in +the afternoon, and took up our quarters at the "Guillaume Tell," full of +expectation for the morrow. + +On the 16th, we had breakfasted, and were beginning the ascent of the +Jura before seven o'clock. The weather was fine, and we enjoyed a +succession of interesting objects, till we reached that which was the +motive of our excursion. First we had that view of the Alps which, if +it were possible, it would be equally useless to describe to any who +have and any who have not stood on the eastern slope of the Jura, on a +clear day. Then we wound among the singular defiles of this mountain +range, till we reached the valley which is commanded by Jougne. Here we +alighted, climbing the slope to the gate of the town, while the carriage +was slowly dragged up the steep winding road. Our appearance obviously +perplexed the two custom-house officers, who questioned us, and peeped +into our one bag and our one book (the Handbook of Switzerland) with an +amusing air of suspicion. My companion told them that the aim of our +journey was the fortress of Joux; and that we expected to pass the +frontier again in the afternoon, on our return to Orbe. Whether they +believed us, or, believing, thought us very foolish, is best known to +themselves; but I suspect the latter, by their compliments on our +cleverness, on our return. At Jougne we supplied ourselves with +provisions, and then proceeded through valleys, each narrower than the +last, more dismal with pines, and more chequered with snow. The air of +desolation, here and there rendered move striking by the dreary +settlements of the charcoal-burners, would have been impressive enough, +if our minds had not been full of the great negro, and therefore +disposed to view everything with his eyes. + +The scene was exactly what I have described in my story, except that a +good road, made since Toussaint's time, now passes round and up the +opposite side of the rock from that by which he mounted. The old road, +narrow and steep, remains; and we descended by it. + +We reached the courtyard without difficulty, passing the two drawbridges +and portcullis described. The Commandant was absent; and his lieutenant +declared against our seeing anything more than the great wheel, and a +small section of the battlements. But for great perseverance, we should +have seen nothing more; but we obtained, at last, all we wanted. We +passed through the vault and passages I have described, and thoroughly +examined the cell. No words can convey a sense of its dreariness. I +have exaggerated nothing--the dim light, the rotten floor, shining like +a pond, the drip of water, the falling flakes of ice, were all there. +The stove was removed; but we were shown where it stood. + +There were only three persons who pretended to possess any information +concerning the negro prisoner. The soldier who was our principal guide +appeared never to have heard of him. A very old man in the village, to +whom we were referred, could tell us nothing but one fact, which I knew +before--that Toussaint was deprived of his servant, some time before his +death. A woman in the sutler's department of the fortress pretended to +know all about him; but she had never seen him, and had no further title +to authority than that her first husband had died in the Saint Domingo +invasion. She did us the good service of pointing out the grave, +however. The brickwork which surrounds the coffin now forms part of a +new wall; but it was till lately within the church. + +This woman's story was that which was probably given out on the spot, to +be told to inquirers; so inconsistent is it in itself, and with known +facts. Her account was, that Toussaint was carried off from Saint +Domingo by the ship in which he was banqueted by Leclerc (the last of a +line of two hundred), weighing anchor without his perceiving it, while +he was at dinner. The absurdity of this beginning shows how much +reliance is to be placed upon the rest of her story. She declared that +the Commandant Rubaut had orders from the Government to treat the +prisoner well; that his servant remained with him to the last; that he +was well supplied with books, allowed the range of the fortress, and +accustomed to pass his days in the house of the Commandant, playing +cards in the evenings: that on the last night of his life he excused +himself from the card-table, on the plea of being unwell; that he +refused to have his servant with him, though urged not to pass the night +alone; that he was left with fire, fauteuil, flambeaux, and a book, and +found dead in his chair in the morning; and that the physicians who +examined the body declared his death to have been caused by the rupture +of a blood-vessel in the heart. This last particular is known to be as +incorrect as the first. As for the rest, this informant differs from +all others in saying that Mars Plaisir remained with his master to the +last day of his life; and we may ask why Toussaint's nights were to be +passed in his horrible cell, if his days were so favoured; and how it +was that no research availed to discover to the eager curiosity of all +Europe and the West Indies the retreat of L'Ouverture, if he, a negro, +was daily present to the eyes of the garrison of the fortress, and to +those of all the inhabitants of the village, and of all the travellers +on that road who chose to raise their eyes to the walls. + +Our third informant was a boy, shrewd and communicative, who could tell +us the traditions of the place; and, of course, young as he was, nothing +more. It was he who showed us where the additional stove was placed +when winter came on. He pointed to a spot beside the fireplace, where +he said the straw was spread on which Toussaint lay. He declared that +Toussaint lived and died in solitude; and that he was found dead and +cold, lying on that straw--his wood-fire, however, not being wholly +extinguished. + +The dreary impressions of the place saddened our minds for long after we +had left it; and, glad as we were, on rejoining our party at Lausanne, +to report the complete success of our enterprise, we cannot recur to it, +to this day, without painful feelings. + +How the lot of Toussaint was regarded by the generous spirits of the +time is shown in a sonnet of Wordsworth's, written during the +disappearance of L'Ouverture. Every one knows this sonnet; but it may +be read by others, as by me, with a fresh emotion of delight, after +having dwelt on the particulars of the foregoing history. + + "Toussaint, the most unhappy Man of Men! + Whether the whistling rustic tend his plough + Within thy hearing, or thy head be now + Pillow'd in some deep dungeon's earless den:-- + O miserable Chieftain! where and when + Wilt thou find patience? Yet die not: do thou + Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow: + Though fallen thyself, never to rise again, + Live, and take comfort. Thou hast left behind + Powers that will work for thee: air, earth, and skies + There's not a breathing of the common wind + That will forget thee: thou hast great allies; + Thy friends are exultations, agonies, + And love, and Man's unconquerable mind." + +The family of Toussaint were first sent to Bayonne, and afterwards to +Agen, where one of the sons died of a decline. The two elder ones, +endeavouring to escape from the surveillance under which they lived, +were embarked for Belle Isle, and imprisoned in the citadel, where they +were seen in 1803. On the restoration of the Bourbons, not only were +they released, but a pension was settled on the family. Madame +L'Ouverture died, I believe, in the South of France, in 1816, in the +arms of Placide and Isaac. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +What Napoleon afterwards thought of the dungeon of Toussaint, is known +through an anecdote which I have received from high authority. + +The next occupant of Toussaint's cell was the Duc de Riviere, afterwards +the first French ambassador to Constantinople. The Duc (then Marquis) +was a young man, on the point of marriage with Mademoiselle de la Ferte, +when, for some unknown offence, he was thrown into prison at Joux, and +apparently forgotten. There he wasted three of the best years of his +life. Mademoiselle de la Ferte never relaxed in her efforts to obtain +his liberation; but she was told, at length, that Napoleon was weary of +her solicitations, and that further efforts on her part would have no +better result than increasing the displeasure of the Emperor. In the +hour of her despair, the kind-heartedness of Josephine came to her aid. +The ladies caused a model of the cell at Joux to be prepared--bearing +the most exact resemblance to the horrible abode; and this model +Josephine placed, with her own hands, on the bureau of the Emperor. + +"Ah! fi donc! Quel est ce lieu abominable?" said the Emperor. + +The Empress informed him that it was one of his Majesty's state prisons; +to which he replied that it was impossible; that no man could live +four-and-twenty hours in such a den. This brought out the information +that the Marquis de Riviere had lived three years in it, and was still +lying there, by his Majesty's commands. + +"Otez-moi ca!" cried the Emperor, tartly. "Cette vue me fait fremir." + +The model was removed. The Marquis was presently afterwards liberated. +He retired to Germany, where he was met by Mademoiselle de la Ferte, +whom he there married. In after-years he was fond of relating the +anecdote which I have given, as nearly as possible, in his method and +language. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +For some years I have read whatever came within my reach on the subject +of my present work: so that it would not now be easy to assign my +authority for every view and every statement it contains. The +authorities which I have principally consulted while actually writing, I +will, however, give. They are--Rainsford's "Historical Account of the +Black Empire of Hayti;" the above-mentioned article in the _Quarterly +Review_; Bryan Edwards's "Saint Domingo"; the article "Toussaint +L'Ouverture," in the "Biographie Universelle;" and the "Haytian Papers," +edited by Prince Sanders. + +Of these, Bryan Edwards, who did not live to complete his history, +barely names my hero; and the reports he gives of the Revolution of +Saint Domingo are useful chiefly as representing the prejudices, as well +as the interests, of the planters. The article in the _Quarterly_ is +valuable, as being an able and liberal digest of various narratives; +some derived from Hayti itself. Rainsford's book is nearly unreadable, +from the absurdity of its style; but it is truly respectable in my eyes, +notwithstanding, from its high appreciation of L'Ouverture's character. +It contains more information concerning Toussaint than can be found, I +believe, anywhere else, except in the Biographie; and it has the +advantage of detailing what fell under the writer's own observation. +The Biographie furnishes many valuable facts; but appears, from the +inconsistency of various parts, and the confused impression which it +conveys as a whole, to be a compilation in which the workman has been +more careful to record dates and other facts correctly, than to +understand the personage whose portrait he professes to give. The +"Haytian Papers" are the most valuable of all authorities, as far as +they go. + +Of my other personages, all had a real existence, except Monsieur Revel, +Euphrosyne, and their servants; some of the planters mentioned in the +second chapter; the children of Bellair; the Abbess and her +establishment; and some of the visitors at Toussaint's levee; with a few +other subordinate characters. + +Of the real personages, several were probably very unlike what I have +represented them. I knew the names of some, without knowing their +characters; as in the instances of Placide and Isaac, Messieurs Pascal +and Moliere, Mars Plaisir, Madame Oge, the Marquis d'Hermona, Laxabon, +Vincent, and Paul. + +Of others, I knew the character and history, without being able to +ascertain the names; as in the instances of Madame Dessalines and Madame +Bellair. Since the issue of my first edition, I have learned that the +name of Madame Dessalines was Marie; and her second name, before +marriage, Claire or Clerc. I have not thought it advisable to +substitute Marie for Therese in this edition, as nothing could be +thereby gained which would compensate for disturbing the associations of +my readers in regard to one of the chief personages of the story. + +Of others, such as the wife, daughters, and third son of Toussaint, +Monsieur Papalier, and the tutors, Azua and Loisir, I knew only that +they existed, without being able to learn their names or characters. +The only character designed to be fully and faithfully accordant with +history is that of Toussaint himself. Those which have much, but less +absolute, pretension to historical truth are those of Jean Francais, +Christophe, Dessalines, and the other negro Generals, old Dessalines, +Bellair, Raymond, the French Commissaries and Envoys, Bayou, and Moyse. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +Note 1. I believe the term "morne" is peculiar to Saint Domingo. A +morne is a valley whose bounding hills are themselves backed by +mountains. + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Hour and the Man, by Harriet Martineau + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUR AND THE MAN *** + +***** This file should be named 24120.txt or 24120.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/1/2/24120/ + +Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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