The Hour and the Man, An Historical Romance Read online

  CHAPTER TEN.

  A MORNING OF OFFICE.

  If the devastation attending the revolutionary wars of Saint Domingo wasgreat, it was repaired with singular rapidity. Thanks to the vigorousagencies of nature in a tropical region, the desolated plains werepresently covered with fresh harvests, and the burnt woods were burieddeep under the shadow of young forests, more beautiful than the old.Thanks also to the government of the wisest mind in the island, themoral 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, whilethere were continually present minds which had been debased by tyranny,and hearts which had been outraged by cruelty; but all that could bedone was done. Vigorous employment was made the great law of society--the one condition of the favour of its chief; and, amidst the labours ofthe hoe and the mill, the workshop and the wharf--amidst the toils ofthe march and the bustle of the court, the bereaved and insulted forgottheir woes and their revenge. A now growth of veneration and of hopeoverspread the ruins of old delights and attachments, as the verdure ofthe plain spread its mantle over the wrecks of mansion and of hut. Inseven years from the kindling of the first incendiary torch on thePlaine du Nord, it would have been hard for a stranger, landing in SaintDomingo, to believe what had been the horrors of the war.

  Of these seven years, however, the first three or four had been entirelyspent in war, and the rest disturbed by it. Double that number of yearsmust pass before there could be any security that the crop planted wouldever be reaped, or that the peasants who laid out their familyburying-grounds would be carried there in full age, instead of perishingin the field or in the woods. The cultivators went out to their dailywork with the gun slung across their shoulders and the cutlass in theirbelt: the hills were crested with forts, and the mountain-passes werewatched by scouts. The troops were frequently reviewed in the squaresof the towns, and news was perpetually arriving of a skirmish here orthere. The mulatto general, Rigaud, had never acknowledged theauthority of Toussaint L'Ouverture; and he was still in the field, witha mulatto force sufficient to interrupt the prosperity of the colony,and endanger the authority of its Lieutenant-Governor. It was sometime, however, since Rigaud had approached any of the large towns. Thesufferers by his incursions were the planters and field-labourers. Theinhabitants of the towns carried on their daily affairs as if peace hadbeen fully established in the island, and feeling the effects of suchwarfare as there was only in their occasional contributions of time andmoney.

  The Commander-in-chief, as Toussaint L'Ouverture was called, by theappointment of the French commissaries, though his dignity had not yetbeen confirmed from Paris--the Commander-in-chief of Saint Domingo heldhis head-quarters at Port-au-Prince. Among other considerations whichrendered this convenient, the chief was that he thus avoided muchcollision with the French officials, which must otherwise have takenplace. All the commissaries, who rapidly succeeded one another fromParis, resided at Government-House, in Cap Francais. Thence, theyissued orders and regulations in the name of the government at home;orders and regulations which were sometimes practicable, sometimesunwise, and often absurd. If Toussaint had resided at Cap, a constantwitness of their ignorance of the minds, manners, and interests of theblacks--if he had been there to listen to the complaints and appealswhich would have been daily made, he could scarcely have kept terms fora single week with the French authorities. By establishing himself inthe south, while they remained in the north, he was able quietly toneutralise or repair much of the mischief which they did, and to executemany of his own plans without consulting them; while many a grievancewas silently borne, many an order simply neglected, which would havebeen 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 knewthat it would be best preserved by weaning their minds from thoughts ofanger, and their eyes from the sight of blood. Trust in the better partof negro nature guided him in his choice between two evils. Hepreferred that they should be misgoverned in some affairs of secondaryimportance, and keep the peace, rather than that they should be governedto their hearts' content by himself, at the risk of quarrel with themother-country. He trusted to the singular power of forbearance andforgiveness which is found in the negro race for the preservation offriendship with the whites and of the blessings of peace; and hetherefore reserved his own powerful influence over both parties forgreat occasions--interfering only when he perceived that, throughcarelessness or ignorance, the French authorities were endangering someessential liberty of those to whom they were the medium of the pleasureof the government at home. The blacks were aware that the vigilance oftheir Commander-in-chief over their civil rights never slept, and thathis interference always availed; and these convictions ensured theirsubmission, or at least their not going beyond passive resistance onordinary occasions, and thus strengthened their habits of peace.

  The Commander-in-chief held his levees at Port-au-Prince on certain daysof the month, all the year round. No matter how far-off he might be, orhow engaged, the night before, he rarely failed to be at home on theappointed day, at the fixed hour. On one particular occasion, he wasknown 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 eveningpreceding the review and levee which had been announced for the 20th ofJanuary. Not the less for this did he appear in front of the troops inthe Place Republicaine, when the daylight gushed in from the east,putting out the stars, whose reflection trembled in the still waters ofthe bay. The last evolutions were finished, and the smoke from the lastvolley had incited away in the serene sky of January, before thecoolness of the northern breeze had yielded to the blaze of the mountingsun. The troops then lined the long streets of the town, and the avenueto the palace, while the Commander-in-chief and his staff passed on, andentered the palace-gates.

  The palace, like every other building in Port-au-Prince, consisted ofone storey only. The town had been destroyed by an earthquake in 1770;and, though earthquakes are extremely rare in Saint Domingo, the placehad been rebuilt in view of the danger of another. The palace thereforecovered a large piece of ground, and its principal rooms were eachnearly surrounded by garden and grass-plat. The largest apartment, inwhich the levees were always held, was the best room in the island--ifnot for the richness of its furniture, for its space and proportions,and the views which it commanded. Not even the abode of theCommander-in-chief could exhibit such silken sofas, marble tables,gilded balustrades, and japanned or ivory screens, as had been common inthe mansions of the planters; and Toussaint had found other uses forsuch money as he had than those of pure luxury. The essential andnatural advantages of his palace were enough for him and his. The doorof this, his favourite apartment, was covered with a fine India matting;the windows were hung with white muslin curtains; and the sofas, whichstood round three sides of the room, between the numerous windows, werecovered with green damask, of no very rich quality. In these manywindows lay the charm, commanding, as they did, extensive prospects tothe east, north, and west. The broad verandah cast a shadow whichrendered it unnecessary to keep the jalousies closed, except during thehottest hours of the year. This morning every blind was swung wideopen, and the room was cool and shady, while, without, all was bathed inthe mild, golden sunshine of January--bright enough for the strongesteye, but without glare.

  To the east and north spread the Cul-de-Sac--a plain of unequalledrichness, extending to the foot of the mountains, fifteen miles into theinterior. The sun had not yet risen so high but that these mountainscast a deep shadow for some distance into the plain, while their skirtswere dark with coffee-groves, and their summits were strongly markedagainst the glowing sky. Amidst the wide, verdant level of the plain,arose many a white mansion, each marked by a cluster of trees, close athand. Some of these plantation houses looked bluish and cool in themountain shadows; others were like bright specks in the sunshine, eachsurmounted by a star, if its gilded weathercock chan
ced to turn in thebreeze. 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 seenflashing in the sun a troop of flamingoes, now moving forward in a lineinto the waves, and diligently fishing; and then, on the alarm of ascout, all taking wing successively, and keeping their order, as theyflew homewards, to the salt marshes in the interior--their scarletbodies vividly contrasted with the dark green of the forests thatclothed the mountain-sides. To the west lay the broad azure sheet ofthe bay, locked by the island of Gonave, and sprinkled withfishing-boats, while under the forest-tufted rocks of the island twovessels rode at anchor--a schooner belonging to Saint Domingo, and anEnglish frigate.

  In the shady western piazza sat a party who seemed much occupied inlooking out upon the bay, and watching the vessels that lay under theisland; from which vessels boats might be seen putting off for the townjust at the time of the commencement of the levee. The party in thepiazza consisted chiefly of women. Madame L'Ouverture was there--like,and yet unlike, the Margot of former years--employed, as usual--busywith her needle, and motherly, complacent, tenderly vigilant as of old;but with a matronly grace and dignity which evidently arose from agratified mind, and not from external state. Her daughters were besideher, both wonderfully improved in beauty, though Genifrede stillpreserved the superiority there. She sat a little apart from her motherand sister netting. Moyse was at her feet, in order to obtain thebenefit of an occasional gleam from the eyes which were cast down uponher work. His idolatry of her was no surprise to any who looked uponher in her beauty, now animated and exalted by the love which she hadavowed, and which was sanctioned by her father and her family. Thesisters were dressed nearly alike, though Aimee knew well that it wouldhave been politic to have avoided thus bringing herself into immediatecomparison with her sister. But Aimee cared not what was thought of herface, form, or dress. Isaac had always been satisfied with them. Shehad confided in Genifrede's taste when they first assumed their rank;and it was least troublesome to do so still. If Isaac should wish itotherwise when he should return from France, she would do as he desired.Meantime, they were dressed in all essentials exactly alike, from thepattern of the Madras handkerchief they wore (according to universalcustom) on their heads, to the cut of the French-kid shoe. The dresswas far from resembling the European fashion of the time. No tightlacing; no casing in whalebone--nothing like a hoop. A chemisette ofthe finest cambric appeared within the bodice, and covered the bosom.The short full sleeves were also of white cambric. The bodice, andshort full skirt, were of deep yellow India silk; and the waist wasconfined 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 ofamethyst; while Genifrede wore, suspended from a throat-band of velvet,embroidered like that which bound her waist, a massive plain goldcrucifix, lately given her by Moyse. Her ear-rings were hoops of plaingold, and her bracelets again of embroidered velvet, clasped with plaingold. In her might be seen, and in her was seen by the Europeans whoattended the levee of that day, what the negro face and form may be whenseen in their native climate, unhardened by degradation, undebased byignorance, unspoiled by oppression--all peculiarities of featuresoftened under the refining influence of mind, and all peculiarities ofexpression called out in their beauty by the free exercise of naturalaffections. The animated sweetness of the negro countenance is knownonly to those who have seen it thus.

  Paul was of the party, looking very well in the French uniform, which hewore in honour of his brother on great occasions, though he was far fromhaving grown warlike on his change of fortune. His heart was still inhis cottage, or on the sea; and now, as he stood leaning against apillar of the piazza, his eye was more busy in watching thefishing-boats in the bay than in observing what went on within thehouse. The only thing he liked about state-days was the hours ofidleness 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 softwind 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, butsheltered by its broad eaves, sat Therese--more beautiful by far thanGenifrede--more beautiful by far than in her days of girlhood--celebrated as she had then been throughout the colony. Her girlishnesswas gone, except its grace; her sensitiveness was gone, and (as thosemight think who did not watch the changes of her eye) much of heranimation. Her carriage was majestic, her countenance, calm, and itsbeauty, now refined by a life of leisure and the consciousness of rank--leisure and rank both well employed--more imposing than ever. Herhusband was now a general in Toussaint's army. When he was in thefield, Madame Dessalines remained at home, on their estate near SaintMarc. When he was in attendance on the Commander-in-chief, she was evera welcome guest in Toussaint's family. Madame L'Ouverture loved her asa daughter; and she had endeared herself to the girls. At this time,from an accidental circumstance, she was at the palace without herhusband. It was evident that she felt quite at home there; for, thoughshe had arrived only a few hours before, she did not appear disposed toconverse. As she sat alone, leaning against the base of the pillar, shenow and then cast her eyes on the book she held open in her hand, butfor the most part looked abroad upon the terraced town, the bay, or theshadowy clefts of the rocky island which closed it in.

  The sound of feet and of voices from within increased from moment tomoment. The Commander-in-chief had assumed his place, with his aides oneither hand; and presently the room was so nearly filled as to leave nomore space than was required for the deputations to pass in at oneentrance on the south of the apartment, appear before the General, andpass out at the other door. Toussaint stood at the centre of the northend, beside a table partly covered with papers, and at which sat hissecretary. 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 withhis 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 theparties waiting for admittance, desiring to know his pleasure as to whoshould have precedence.

  "The clergy," said Toussaint; "the first in duty must be first inhonour."

  In a few moments there was a loud announcement of the clergy from thedistricts of Saint Marc, Leogane, Mirbalais, and so on, through a longenumeration of districts. The priests entered, two and two, a longprocession of black gowns. As they collected into a group before him,every one anxiously making way for them, Toussaint crossed his arms uponhis breast, and bowed his head low for many moments. When he looked upagain, an expression of true reverence was upon his countenance; and, ina tone of earnestness, he asked for what service they desired to commandhim.

  Father Antioche, an old priest, assisted by a brother at least thirtyyears younger, offered sealed papers, which, he said, contained reportsfrom the several districts concerning the religious and moral conditionof the inhabitants. Toussaint received them, and laid them, with hisown hand, upon the table beside him, saying, with much solicitude--

  "Do I see rightly in your countenances that you bring good news of yourflocks, my fathers!"

  "It is so," replied the old priest. "Our wishes are fast fulfilling."

  "Eight thousand marriages have been celebrated, as will appear in ourreports," added the young priest.

  "And in the difficult cases of a plurality of wives," resumed FatherAntioche, "there is generally a willingness in the cultivators tomaintain liberally those who are put away."

  "And the children?"

  "The children may be found in the schools, sitting side by side inpeace. The quarrels of the children of different mothers (quarr
elsoften fatal in the fields) disappear in the schools. The reports wellexhibit 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 willbe established, and the salvation of its people secured."

  "You," said Toussaint, "the servants of Christ, are the true rulers ofthis island and its inhabitants. I am your servant in guarding externalorder, during a period which you will employ in establishing your flocksin the everlasting wisdom and peace of religion. I hold the inferioroffice of keeping our enemies in awe, and enabling our people to findsubsistence and comfort. My charge is the soil on which, and the bodiesin which, men live. You have in charge their souls, in which lies thefuture of this world and of the next. You are the true rulers of SaintDomingo; and we bow to you as such."

  Every head was immediately bowed, and the priests went out, amidst theobeisances of the whole assemblage--some of the order wondering,perhaps, whether every mind there was as sincere in its homage as thatof the Commander-in-chief.

  The superintendents of the cultivators came next--negroes dressed incheck shirts, white linen jackets and trousers, and with the usualMadras handkerchief on the head. They, too, handed in reports; and tothem also did Toussaint address his questions, with an air of respectalmost equal to that with which he had spoken to the priests.

  "I grieve," said he, "that you cannot yet fulfil your functionaltogether in peace. My generals and I have done what we can topreserve our fields from devastation, and our cultivators from thedangers and the fears of ambushed foes; but Rigaud's forces are not yetsubdued; and for a while we must impose upon our cultivators the toil ofworking armed in the field. We are soldiers here," he added, lookinground upon his officers, "but I hope there is not one of us who does nothonour the hoe more than the gun. How far have you been able to repairin the south-eastern districts the interruption in the Septemberplanting?"

  The superintendent of those districts came forward, and said that someplanting had been effected in November, the sprouts of which now lookedwell. More planting had been done during the early part of the presentmonth; and time would show the result.

  "Good!" said Toussaint. "Some of the finest crops I have seen haverisen from January plants, though it were best it were done inSeptember. How do you report about the rats?"

  "The nuisance is still great," replied the head superintendent; "theiruninterrupted possession of the fields during the troubles has made themvery powerful. Would that your excellency were as powerful to conquerthe rats as the mulattoes!"

  "We have allies," said Toussaint, gravely--"an army more powerful thanthat which I command. Where are the ants!"

  "They have closed their campaign. They cleared the fields for us in theautumn; 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 yourexcellency knows of such, to make war upon the an Is; for they are onlya 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 themcomplain of anything to which Providence has given life and an errandamong 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, atleast. As your excellency also desired, the cultivators have spenttheir leisure hours in preparing furniture--from bedsteads to baskets.As the reports will explain, there are some inventions which it is hopedwill be inspected by your excellency--particularly a ventilator, to befixed in the roofs of cottages; a broad shoe for walking over the saltmarshes; and--"

  "The cooler," prompted a voice from behind.

  "And a new kind of cooler, which preserves liquids, and even meats, fora longer time than any previously known to the richest planter in theisland. This discovery does great credit to the sagacity of thelabourer who has completed it."

  "I will come and view it. I hope to visit all our cultivators--toverify 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 toarms; but, when possible, I wish to show that I am not a negro of thecoast, with my eye ever abroad upon the sea, or on foreign lands. Idesire 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; butthe liberty of the blacks can be secured only by the prosperity of theiragriculture."

  "I do not see why not by fisheries," observed Paul, to the party in thepiazza, as he caught his brother's words. "If Toussaint is not fond offish, he should remember that other people are."

  "He means," said Therese, "that toil, peaceful toil, with its hope, andits 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 ofthe plain, you would never have been a fisherman."

  "It is pleasanter on a hot day to dive than to dig; and easier to drawthe 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, "whydoes he disparage war? Who knows better than he what are the fatiguesof a march? and the wearisomeness of an ambush is greater still. Whydoes he, of all men, disparage war?"

  "Because," said Madame, "he thinks there has been enough hatred andfighting. I have to put him in mind of his own glory in war, or hewould be always forgetting it--except, indeed, when any one comes fromEurope. When he hears of Bonaparte, he smiles; and I know he is thenglad that he is a soldier too."

  "Besides his thinking that there has been too much fighting," saidAimee, "he wishes that the people should labour joyfully in the veryplaces 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 thatmisery, 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 MonsieurCaze, and Monsieur Hugonin, and Monsieur Charrier. I think thesegentlemen have all been reinstated in their properties since the lastlevee. Hear what they say."

  "We come," exclaimed aloud Monsieur Caze, the spokesman of the party ofwhite planters; "we come, overwhelmed with amazement, penetrated withgratitude, to lay our thanks at your feet. All was lost. The estateson which we were born, the lands bequeathed to us by our fathers, werewrenched 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 ofwar stilled, like this atmosphere after the storms of December. And toyou do we owe all--to you, possessed by a magnanimity of which we hadnot dared to dream!"

  "These passions of war, of which you speak," said Toussaint, "need neverhave raged, if God had permitted the whites to dream what was in thesouls of the blacks. Let the past now be forgotten. I have restoredyour estates because they were yours; but I also perceive advantages inyour restoration. By circumstances--not by nature, but bycircumstances--the whites have been able to acquire a wide intelligence,a depth of knowledge, from which the blacks have been debarred. Idesire for the blacks a perpetual and friendly intercourse with thosewho are their superiors in education. As residents, therefore, you arewelcome; and your security and welfare shall be my care. You find yourestates peopled with cultivators?"

  "We do."

  "And you unders
tand the terms on which the labour of yourfellow-citizens may be hired? You have only to secure to themone-fourth of the produce, and you will, I believe, be well served. Ifyou experience cause of complaint, your remedy will be found in anappeal to the superintendent of cultivators of the district, or tomyself. Over the cultivators no one else, I now intimate to you, hasauthority."

  The gentlemen bowed, having nothing to say on this head.

  "It may be in your power," continued Toussaint, after applying to hissecretary for a paper from the mass on the table--"it may be in yourpower to do a service to the colony, and to individuals mentioned inthis 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 inthe colony, in France, and in the United States. If you should chanceto be in correspondence with any of the owners or their heirs, make itknown to them from me that they will be welcome here, as you are. Inthe 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 theirlands are cultivated under a commission, a part of the produce beingassigned to the cultivators, the rest to the public treasury."

  Toussaint read the list, watching, as did every one present, thecountenances of the Creoles as each name was pronounced. They hadinformation to offer respecting one or two only; to the rest they gavesighs or mournful shakes of the head.

  "It is afflicting to us all," said Toussaint, "to think of the slaughterand exile of those who drank wine together in the white mansions ofyonder plain. But a wiser cheerfulness is henceforth to spread itssunshine 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, theattorney of which, Monsieur Bayou--"

  "Is here!" cried a voice from the lower part of the room. "I landedjust now," exclaimed Bayou, hastening with extended arms to embraceToussaint; "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 wasbetween you and me. There can be no familiarity with the chief of anewly-redeemed race."

  Monsieur Bayou fell back, looking in every face around him, to see whatwas thought of this. Every face was grave.

  "I sent for you," resumed Toussaint, in a mild voice, "to put you at thehead of the interests of the good old masters;--for the good alone havebeen 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, butfirm. 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 generalprosperity of the administration of the Commander-in-chief of SaintDomingo."

  Monsieur Bayou had no words ready. He stared round him upon the blackofficers in their splendid uniforms, upon the trains of liveriedservants, handing coffee and fruits and sangaree on trays and salvers ofmassive silver, and on the throng of visitors who crowded upon oneanother's heels, all anxious, not merely to pay their respects, but tooffer their enthusiastic homage at the feet of his former slave. Hiseye at length fixed upon the windows, through which he saw something ofthe outline of the group of ladies.

  "You desire to greet Madame L'Ouverture?" said Toussaint, kindly. "Youshall be conducted to her." And one of the aides stepped forward toperform the office of introducer.

  Monsieur Bayou pulled from his pocket, on his way to the window, ashagreen jewel-case; and, by the time he was in front of Madame he hadtaken from it a rich gold chain, which he hung on her neck, saying, witha voice and air strangely made up of jocoseness, awkwardness, anddeference--

  "I have not forgotten, you see, though I suppose you have, what you gaveme, one day long ago. I tried to bring back something prettier than Icarried away--something for each of you--but--I don't know--I findeverything here so different from what I had any idea of--so verystrange--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 togive; and you deserved from us any aid that was in our power. Mydaughters and I now accept with pleasure the tokens of friendship thatyou bring. I hope no changes have taken place which need prevent ourbeing friends, Monsieur Bayou."

  He scarcely heard her.

  "Is it possible," cried he, "that these can be your girls? Aimee Imight 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 wouldnot so much as lift up her head at one of my jokes. One could nevergain her attention with anything but a ghost story. But I see how itis," he added, stooping, and speaking low to her mother, while heglanced at Moyse--"she has learned at last the old song that she wouldnot 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 theworld to her; and he is far away."

  Aimee's eyes were full of tears in a moment; but she looked happy, asshe always did when Isaac was spoken of as her own peculiar friend.

  "I was going to ask about your boys," said Bayou. "The little fellowwho used to ride the horses to water, almost before he could walkalone--he and his brothers, where are they?"

  "Denis is with his tutor, in the palace here. Placide and Isaac are atParis."

  "At Paris! For education?"

  "Partly so."

  "And partly," interposed Paul, "for an object in which you, sir, have aninterest, and respecting which you ought, therefore, to be informed.There are those who represent my brother's actions as the result ofpersonal ambition. Such persons have perpetually accused him to theFrench Government as desiring to sever the connection between the tworaces, and therefore between this colony and France. At the moment whenthese charges were most strongly urged, and most nearly believed, mybrother sent his two elder sons to Paris, to be educated for theirfuture duties under the care of the Directory. I hope, sir, you see inthis act a guarantee for the safety and honour of the whites in SaintDomingo."

  "Certainly, certainly. All very right--very satisfactory."

  "Everybody who understands, thinks all that the Commander-in-chief doesquite right," said Madame, with so much of her old tone and manner asmade Bayou ready to laugh. He turned to Paul, saying--

  "May I ask if you are the brother who used to reside on the northerncoast--if I remember right?"

  "I am. I am Paul--Paul L'Ouverture." He sighed as he added, "I do notlive on the northern coast now. I am going to live on the southerncoast--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, MonsieurBayou?"

  Monsieur Bayou bowed. He then asked if he had the pleasure of anyacquaintance with the other lady, who had not once turned round since hearrived. Therese had indeed sat with her face concealed for some timepast.

  "Do not ask her," said Aimee, eagerly, in a low voice. "We do not speakto 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 theintroduction, when her attention was called another way by two officers,who brought her some message from Toussaint. That one glance perplexedMonsieur Bayou as much as anything he had seen. That beautiful face andform were not new to
him; but he had only a confused impression as towhere and when he had seen them. He perceived, however, that he was notto 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 hearwhat passed within.

  "It is the English deputation," said Paul. "Hear what my brother willsay."

  "What will become of them?" said Madame. "I do not know what wouldbecome of me if my husband were ever as angry with me as I know he iswith them."

  There were indeed signs of wrath in the countenance which was commonlygentle as the twilight. The rigid uprightness of his figure, the fieryeye, the distended nostril, all showed that Toussaint was strugglingwith anger. Before him stood a group of Englishmen--a sailor holding awand, on which was fixed a small white banner, two gentlemen in plainclothes, the captain of the frigate which rode in the bay, and a colonelof the English troops in Jamaica.

  "It is all very well, gentlemen," Toussaint was saying--"it is all verywell as regards the treaty. Twenty-four hours ago we should have had nodifficulty in concluding it. But what have you to say to this treatmentof women on board the schooner you captured? What have you to say toyour act of taking all the gentlemen out of your prize (except one whowould not quit his sister), leaving the ladies in charge of a brutalprize-master, who was drunk--was it not so?" he added, turning to one ofhis officers.

  "It was: he was drunk, and refused the ladies access to their trunks ofclothes, denied them the wine left for their use, and alarmed themextremely by his language. These ladies were wives of our mostdistinguished officers."

  "It matters not whose wives they were," said Toussaint: "they werewomen; and I will treat with none who thus show themselves not to bemen."

  "We do not ask you to treat with my prize-master," said CaptainReynolds. "If it be true--"

  "It is true," said a voice from the window, to which all listened in amoment. "My maid and I were on board that schooner; from which welanded 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 ourown clothes; and it is true that the oaths and threats of a drunken manwere in our ears all night. When morning came, we looked out to see ifwe were really in the seas of Saint Domingo. It seemed as if we hadbeen conveyed where the whites are still paramount." And Thereseindignantly 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 aFrench 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 wouldhave 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 myconfidence was misplaced; and I pledge myself that the prize-mastershall be punished. After offering my apologies to the offended ladies,I will retire to my ship, leaving this business of the treaty to appearas unconnected as it really is with this mischance. Allow me to beconducted to the presence of the ladies."

  "I will charge myself with your apologies," said Toussaint, who knewthat any white stood a small chance of a good reception from Therese."I accept your acknowledgment of error, Captain Reynolds, and shall beready to proceed with the treaty, on proof of the punishment of theprize-master. Gentlemen, I regard this treaty with satisfaction, and amwilling to enclose this small tract of peace in the midst of the drearywilderness of war. I am willing to see trade established betweenJamaica and Saint Domingo. There are days when your blue mountains areseen from our shores. Let to-morrow be a bright day when no cloud shallhide us from one another's friendship."

  "To-morrow," the deputation from Jamaica agreed, as they bowedthemselves out of the presence of the Commander-in-chief.

  "More English! more English!" was whispered round, when the name ofGauthier was announced.

  "No; not English," observed some, on seeing that the five who nowentered, 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 thebribing hand, we do not believe them to be English. Such are the eyesand hands of these men. They have the audacity to present themselves asguests, 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 amilitary commission, and you are sentenced. If you have more to saythan you had to plead to me, say it when I have read."

  Toussaint took from among the papers on the table a letter brought, asGauthier alleged, from the English commander, Sir Thomas Brisbane,declaring Gauthier empowered to treat for the delivery to the British ofthe posts of Gonaives, Les Verrettes, and some others, in order tosecure to the British the freedom of the windward passage. Toussaintdeclared that the messengers had brought with them bags of money, withwhich they had endeavoured to bribe him to this treachery. He asked ofthem if this were not true.

  "It is," said Gauthier; "but we and our authorities acted upon theprecedent of your former conduct."

  "What former conduct? Did those hands ever receive gold from thecoffers of an enemy? Speak freely. You shall not suffer from anythingyou 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 someothers."

  "I was the means, as you say; but it was done by a wiser will and astronger hand than mine. In that transaction my heart was pure. Mydesign 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 whoknow me, before you proceeded to insult me. Have you more to say?"

  "It was natural that we should believe that he through whom posts hadbeen delivered would deliver posts again; and this was confirmed byrumours, and I believe, even by letters which seemed to come fromyourself, 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 couldnot be perverted; and to these you should have listened. My actions aremessages addressed to the whole world--letters which cannot be forged;and these alone you should have trusted. Such misunderstanding as yourscould hardly have been foreseen; but it will be my fault, if it berepeated. The name of the First of the Blacks must never again beassociated 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 SaintMarc 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 mulattoeswe 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 noattention to spare for your faces. You must now depart."

  "Change our punishment!" said Gauthier. "Consider that I am an emigrantofficer. Some other punishment!"

  "No other," said Toussaint. "This is the fit punishment--mean as yourdesign--ridiculous as your attempt. Are the French Commissaries inwaiting, Laroche? Let them be announced."

  The prisoners were removed by one door, while the imposing party fromFrance entered by the other.

  Commissary Hedouville, who had been for some time resident at CapFrancais, entered, followed by a party of his countrymen, just arrivedfrom Paris. There was among them one, at sight of whom Toussaint'scountenance changed, while an exclamation was heard from the piazza,whic
h showed that his family were moved like himself. The person whoexcited this emotion was a young black officer, who entered smiling, andas if scarcely able to keep his place behind the Commissary, and GeneralMichel, 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 herewith General Michel; sent by the government, with gifts and compliments,which--"

  "Which we will speak of when I have offered my welcome to theserepresentatives of the government we all obey," said Toussaint, turningto the Commissary and the General, and remembering that his emotions asa father had caused him, for the moment, to lose sight of the businessof the hour. He made himself the usher of the French Commissaries tothe sofa, in front of which he had himself been standing. There hewould have seated Hedouville and General Michel. Hedouville threwhimself down willingly enough; but the newly arrived messenger chose tostand.

  "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 wordof apology for your graceful action of welcome to Brigadier-GeneralVincent! What so graceful as the emotions of a parent's heart? Iunderstand--I am aware--he went out as the guardian of your sons; andyour first welcome was, therefore, due to him. The office of guardianof your sons is, ought to be, in your eyes, more important, more sacred,than that of Commissary, or any other. If our national Deliverer--ifthe conqueror of Italy--if our First Consul himself were here, he oughtto 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 thatthey speak of come from Bonaparte--if he has answered your father'sletter, your father will think his happiness complete--now we know thatthe 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 indestiny 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; andtherefore, though a brother in destiny and in glory, he will not noticethe 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 likesthe whites better than you do."

  "He does," said Therese. "But let us listen."

  Hedouville was at the moment exerting himself to introduce hissecretary, Monsieur Pascal.

  "An honoured name," observed Toussaint.

  "And not only in name, but by blood connected with the great man yourefer to," said Hedouville.

  "None are more welcome here," said Toussaint, "than those who bring withthem the honours of piety, of reason, and of science." And he lookedwith deep interest upon the countenance of the secretary, which did intruth show signs of that thoughtfulness and sagacity, though not of themorbid suffering, which is associated in all minds with the image of theauthor of the Provinciales. Monsieur Pascal returned the gaze which wasfixed upon him with one in which intense curiosity was mingled withdoubt, if not fear. His countenance immediately, however, relaxed intoan expression of pleased surprise. During this brief moment, these twomen, so unlike--the elderly, toil-worn negro, and the young, studiousFrenchman--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 toour society?"

  The group of Frenchmen could scarcely restrain their laughter at thisquestion. Monsieur Moliere had a most lugubrious countenance--a thingnot always inconsistent with a merry humour: but Monsieur Moliere'sheart was believed never to have laughed, any more than his face. Heanswered, as if announcing a misfortune, that he claimed no connectionwith the dramatist, though he believed some of his family had attemptedto do so.

  "Monsieur Moliere discharges the duty of a pious descendant, however,"said Vincent. "He laughs himself into such a state of exhaustion everynight 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 fromthe republic to yourself," said General Michel.

  "I come," said Michel, assuming a pompous tone, "I come associated withan officer of the republican army, Monsieur Petion--a native of thiscolony, but a stranger to yourself."

  Monsieur Petion paid his respects. He was a mulatto, with shy andreserved manners, and an exceedingly intellectual countenance.

  "We lost you early," said Toussaint; "but only to offer you the warmerwelcome back. It was, as I remember, to attend the military schools ofFrance that you left your home. Such scholars are welcome here."

  "And particularly," observed Michel, "when they have also had thefortune to serve in the army of Italy, and immediately under the eye ofthe First Consul himself."

  "Is it so? Is it really so?" exclaimed Toussaint. "I can never hearenough of the ruler of France. Tell us--but that must be hereafter. Doyou 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 thedignity of Commander-in-chief of this colony, conferred by CommissarySanthonax."

  Toussaint bowed, but smiled not.

  "See, he sighs!" said Madame, sighing in echo.

  "These are empty words," said Therese. "They give him only what theycannot withhold; and at the very moment they surround him with spies."

  "He says," replied Madame, "that Hedouville is sent here `to restrainhis ambition.' Those were the words spoken of him at Paris, where theywill not believe that he has no selfish ambition."

  "They will not believe, because they cannot understand. TheirCommander-in-chief has a selfish ambition; and they cannot imagine thatours may be a man of a higher sold. But we cannot help it: they arewhites."

  "What a dress--what a beautiful dress!" exclaimed Madame, who almostcondescended to stand fairly in the window, to see the presents nowdisplayed before her husband by the commissary's servants.

  "These presents," pursued General Michel, while Petion stood aloof, asif 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 lateDirectory of France, in token of their admiration of your services tothe colony."

  Toussaint stretched out his hand for the sword, which he immediatelyassumed instead of the one he wore, observing that this sword, like thatwhich he had now laid aside, should be employed in loyal service to therepublic. As he took no notice of the embroidered dress, it wasconveyed away.

  "Not only in the hall of government," resumed Michel--"but throughoutall Europe, is your name ringing to the skies. A eulogium has beendelivered at the Council of Ancients--"

  "And an oration before the governors of the Military Schools," addedHedouville.

  "And from Paris," said Pascal, "your reputation has spread along theshores of the Rhine, and as far north as Saint Petersburg; and in thesouth, even to Rome."

  Toussaint's ear caught a low laugh of delight from the piazza, which hethought fit alone for a husband's ear, and therefore hoped that no oneelse had heard.

  "Enough, gentlemen," he said. "Measuring together my deeds and thisapplause, I understand the truth. This applause is in fact given to thepowers of the negro race; and not to myself as a soldier or a man. Itbelongs not, therefore, to me. For my personal support, one line of aletter, one word of message, from the chief of our common country, wo
uldbe worth the applause of Europe, of which you speak."

  Monsieur Petion produced a sealed packet, which he delivered; and thisseemed to remind General Vincent that he had one too. Toussaint wasunable to refrain from tearing open first one, and then the other, inthe intense hope of receiving some acknowledgment, some greeting fromthe "brother in destiny and in glory," who was the idol of his loyalheart. There was no word from Bonaparte among the first papers; and itwas scarcely possible that there should be in the other packet; yet hecould not keep his eye from it. Other eyes were watching from behindthe jalousies. He cast a glance, a half smile that way; the consequenceof which was that Aimee, forgetting the time, the deputation, theofficers, the whole crowd, sprang into the room, and received the letterfrom Isaac, which was the only thing in all that room that she saw. Shedisappeared in another moment, followed, however, by General Vincent.

  The father's smile died away from the face of Toussaint, and his browdarkened, as he caught at a glance the contents of the proclamationscontained in Petion's packet. A glance was enough. Before the eyes ofthe company had returned from the window, whither they had followed theapparition of Aimee, he had folded up the papers. His secretary's handwas ready to receive them: but Toussaint put them into his bosom.

  "Those proclamations," said Hedouville, rising from the sofa, andstanding by Toussaint's side, "you will immediately publish. You willimmediately exhibit on your colours the words imposed, `Brave blacks,remember that the French people alone recognise your freedom, and thelegality of your rights!'"

  As the commissary spoke these, words aloud, he looked round upon theassembled blacks, who, in their turn, all fixed their eyes upon theirchief. Toussaint merely replied that he would give his best attentionto all communications from the government of France.

  "In order," said Hedouville, as if in explanation of a friend'spurposes, "in order to yield implicit obedience to its commands." Thenresuming his seat, he observed to Toussaint, "I believe General Micheldesires some little explanation of certain circumstances attending hislanding at Cap."

  "I do," said General Michel, resuming his solemn air. "You are awarethat General Vincent and I were arrested on landing?"

  "I am aware of it. It was by my instant command that you were setfree."

  "By whose command, or by what error, then, were we arrested?"

  "I hoped that full satisfaction had been afforded you by MonsieurRaymond, the Governor of Cap Francais. Did he not explain to you thatit was by an impulse of the irritated blacks--an impulse of which theyrepent, and to which they will not again yield, proceeding from angerfor which there is but too much cause? As you, however, are not to bemade responsible for the faults of your government towards us, theoffending parties have been amply punished."

  "I," said Hedouville, from the sofa behind, "I am held responsible forthe faults of our government towards you. What are they?"

  "We will discuss them at Cap," replied Toussaint. "There you will besurrounded by troops of your own colour; and you will feel more atliberty 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, youwill become aware that the highest security is found in fully trustingthem."

  "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 ofat Cap--when you showed your mistrust of your fellow-citizens byselecting the Spanish city for your point of entrance upon our island.I will then ask you what it is that your government fears, that itcommits the interests of the blacks to a new legislature, whichunderstands 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 bewondered at; but it has not the less been punished. I would furtherask," he continued, turning again to Hedouville, "what the First Consulfears, 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," repliedToussaint, casting a proud look round upon his officers and assembledfriends. "If I were about to make complaints of the First Consul, Iwould close my doors upon you and myself, and speak in whispers. But itis known that I honour him, and hold him to my heart, as a brother indestiny and in glory: though his glory is now at its height, while minewill not be so till my race is redeemed from the consequences ofslavery, as well as from slavery itself. Still, we are brothers; and Itherefore mourn his fears, shown in the documents that he sends to mysoldiers, and shown no less in his sending none to me."

  "I bring you from him the confirmation of your dignity," observedGeneral Michel.

  "You do so by message. The honour is received through the ear. Butthat which should plant it down into my heart--the greeting from abrother--is wanting. It cannot be that the First of the Whites has nottime, has not attention, for the First of the Blacks. It is that hefears--not for himself, but for our country: he fears our ambition, ourrevenge. He shall experience, however, that we are loyal--from myself,his brother, to the mountain child who startles the vulture from therocks with his shouts of Bonaparte the Great. To engage our loyaltybefore many witnesses," he continued, once more looking round upon theassemblage, "I send this message through you, in return for that which Ihave received. Tell the First Consul that, in the absence ofinterference with the existing laws of the colony, I guarantee, under mypersonal responsibility, the submission to order, and the devotion toFrance, of my black brethren. Mark the condition, gentlemen, which youwill pronounce reasonable. Mark the condition, and you will find happyresults. You will soon see whether I pledge in vain my ownresponsibility and your hopes."

  Even while he spoke, in all the fervour of unquestionable sincerity, ofhis devotion to France, his French hearers fell that he was virtually amonarch. The First of the Blacks was not only supreme in this palace,and throughout the colony; he had entered upon an immortal reign overall lands trodden by the children of Africa. To the contracted gaze ofthe diplomatists present, all might not be visible--the coming ages whenthe now prophetic name of L'Ouverture should have become a bright factin the history of man, and should be breathed in thanksgiving under thepalm-tree, sung in exultation in the cities of Africa, and embalmed inthe liberties of the Isles of the West:--such a sovereignty as this wastoo vast and too distant for the conceptions of Michel and Hedouville toembrace; but they were impressed with a sense of his power, with afeeling of the majesty of his influence; and the reverential emotionswhich they would fain have shaken off, and which they were afterwardsashamed of, were at the present moment enhanced by sounds which reachedthem 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 thepresentation to him, for the interests of France, of the keys of thecities of the island, late in the possession of Spain, and now ceded toFrance by the treaty of Bale. The commissaries could not refuse, andtook their stand on one side of the First of the Blacks, while PaulL'Ouverture assumed the place of honour on the other hand.

  The apartment was completely filled by the heads of the procession--thelate Governor of the city of Saint Domingo, his officers, the magistracyof the city, and the heads of the clergy.

  Among these last was a face which Toussaint recognised with strongemotion. The look which he cast upon Laxabon, the gesture of greetingwhich he offered, caused Don Alonzo Dovaro to turn round to discoverwhose presence there could be more imposing to the Commander-in-chiefthan his own. The flushed countenance of the priest marked him out asthe man.

  Don Alonzo Dovaro ordered the keys to be brought, and addressed himself
in Spanish to Toussaint. Toussaint did not understand Spanish, and knewthat the Spaniard, could speak French. The Spaniard, however, chose todeliver 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 favourablemeans of surmounting the awkwardness of renewed intercourse with one, bywhom 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 sincerityrequires, that the most speedy fulfilment of treaties is ever the mosthonourable; and that I am guiltless of such injury as may have arisenfrom calling off ten thousand blacks from the peaceful pursuits ofagriculture and commerce, to march them to the gates of Saint Domingo.You, the authorities of the city, compelled me to lead them there, inenforcement of the claims of France. If warlike thoughts have sprung upin those ten thousand minds, the responsibility is not mine. I wishthat 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 Ican gratify them."

  "Don Alonzo Dovaro explains," said the interpreter, "that it will beacceptable to the Spanish inhabitants that you take the customary oath,in the name of the Holy Trinity, respecting the government of theirwhole 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, thebrother of Columbus, to this day."

  "What is human wisdom," said Toussaint, "that a man should swear that hewill be always wise? What is human virtue, that he should pledge hissalvation on governing well? I dare not take the oath."

  The Spaniards showed that they understood French by the looks they castupon 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 thealtar, before the God who hears me now, on behalf of your people, to besilent on the past, and to employ my vigilance and my toils in renderinghappy the Spanish people, now become my fellow-citizens of France."

  A profusion of obeisances proved that this was satisfactory. The lategovernor of the city took from one of his officers the velvet cushion onwhich were deposited the keys of Saint Domingo, and transferred it tothe hands of the Commander-in-chief. At the moment, there was anexplosion of cannon from the terrace on which stood the town; the bellsrang in all the churches; and bursts of military music spread over thecalm bay, with the wreaths of white smoke from the guns. The flamingoestook flight again from the strand; the ships moved in their anchorage;the shouts of the people arose from the town, and those of the soldieryfrom the square of the great avenue. Their idol, their Ouverture, wasnow in command of the whole of the most beautiful of the isles of thewest.

  As soon as he could be heard, Toussaint introduced his brother to theSpaniards. Placing the cushion containing the keys upon the table, andlaying his hand upon the keys, he declared his intention of giving tothe inhabitants of the city of Saint Domingo a pledge of the mercifuland gentle character of the government under which they were henceforthto live, in the person of the new governor, Paul L'Ouverture, who hadnever been known to remember unkindness from day-to-day. The newgovernor would depart for the east of the island on the morrow, from thedoor of the church, at the close of the celebration.

  The levee was now over. Spanish, French, and the family and guests ofthe Commander-in-chief, were to meet at a banquet in the evening.Meantime, Toussaint and his brother stepped out together upon thenorthern piazza, and the room was cleared.

  "I wish," said Paul, "that you had appointed any one but me to begovernor of that city. How should a poor negro fisherman like me governa city?"

  "You speak like a white, Paul. The whites say of me, `How should a poornegro postillion govern a colony?' You must do as I do--show that anegro can govern."

  "But Heaven made you for a ruler."

  "Who thought so while I was yet a slave? As for you--I know not whatyou can do till you have tried; nor do you. I own that you are not theman I should have appointed, if I had had a choice among all kinds ofmen."

  "Then look around for some other."

  "There is no other, on the whole, so little unfit as you. Henri mustremain in the field while Rigaud is in arms. Jacques--"

  "Ay, Dessalines--and he might have a court--such a wife as he wouldcarry."

  "Dessalines must not govern a city of whites. He hates the whites. Hispassion of hatred would grow with power; and the Spaniards would bewretched. They are now under my protection. I must give them agovernor who cannot hate; and therefore I send you. Your love of ourpeople and of me, my brother, will rouse you to exertion andself-denial. For the rest you shall have able counsellors on the spot.For your private guidance, I shall be ever at your call. Confide whollyin me, and your appeal shall never be unanswered."

  "You shall be governor, then. I will wear the robes, and your headshall do the work. I will amuse the inhabitants with water-parties, andyou--"

  "No more of this!" said Toussaint, somewhat sternly. "It seems that youare 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 aremen--fit to govern as to serve;--and you would rather sleep in thesunshine than listen to the message from the sky. My own brother doeswhat 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 willdo what I can. I will go to-morrow, and try whether I can toil as youdo. 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 willfind 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 heindulges them. He must remain with you, in order to command hispassions. He inherited them from me; and I must thus far help him tomaster them. You are all-powerful with him. I have no power."

  "You mean that Genifrede and I together are all-powerful with him. Ibelieve 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 theisland is secured, there are two duties which I assign to you--tosupport the spirit of the blacks, and to take my Genifrede for yourdaughter. The rest of my family love each other, and the world we livein. 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 whichhe shall not want opportunity. I have a higher duty than that to myfamily--it is my duty to call out all the powers of every black. Moysemust therefore prove what he can do, before he can marry his love. Forhim, however, this is an easy condition."

  "I doubt not you are right, brother; but it is well for me that the daysof my love are past."

  "Not so, Paul. The honour of your race must now be your love. For thisyou must show what you can do."

  They had paced the northern piazza while conversing. They now turnedinto the eastern, where they came upon the lovers, who were standinghalf shrouded by creeping plants--Moyse's arm round Genifrede's waist,and Genifrede's head resting on her lover's shoulder. The poor girl wassobbing violently, while Moyse was declaring that he would marry her,with or without consent, and carry her with him, if he was henceforth tolive in the east of the island.

  "Patience, foolish boy!" cried his father. "You
go not with me. Icommit you to my brother. You will stay with him, and yield him theduty 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," saidToussaint. "I have heard your plans of marriage. You shall hear mine.I will give you opportunities of distinguishing yourself, in theservices of the city and of the field. After the first act which provesyou 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 somehasty words just now; but we supposed I was to be sent among thewhites--and I had so lately returned from the south--and Genifrede wasso wretched!"

  Genifrede threw herself on her father's bosom, with broken words of loveand gratitude. It was the first time she had ever voluntarilyapproached so near him; and she presently drew back, and glanced in hisface with timid awe.

  "My Genifrede! My child!" cried Toussaint, in a rapture of pleasure atthis loosening of the heart. He drew her towards him, folded his armsabout 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 shallall be proud of him."

  She looked up once more, with a countenance so radiant, that Toussaintcarried into all the toils and observance of the day the light heart ofa happy father.

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  Note 1. I have to acknowledge that injustice is done in this work tothe character of General Vincent. The writer of historical fiction isunder that serious liability, in seizing on a few actual incidents,concerning a subordinate personage, that he makes himself responsiblefor justice to the whole character of the individual whose name heintroduces into his story. Under this liability I have been unjust toVincent, as Scott was to Edward Christian, in "Peveril of the Peak," andCampbell to Brandt, in "Gertrude of Wyoming." Like them, I am anxiousto make reparation on the first opportunity. It is true that in myAppendix I avowed that Vincent was among those of my personages whosename alone I adopted, without knowing his character; but such anexplanation in an appendix does not counteract the impression alreadymade by the work. Finding this, I had thoughts of changing the name inthe present edition; but I feared the character being still identifiedwith Vincent, from its being fact that it was Vincent who accompaniedToussaint's sons to Paris, and returned with the deputation, as I haverepresented; I think it best, therefore, to say here that, from all Ican learn, General Vincent was an honourable and useful man, and thatthe delineation of character under that name in my book is purelyfictitious. The following extract from Clarkson's pamphlet on NegroImprovement will show in what estimation General Vincent is held by onewhose testimony is of the highest value:--

  "The next witness to whom I shall appeal is the estimable GeneralVincent, who now lives at Paris, though at an advanced age. He was aColonel, and afterwards a General of Brigade of Artillery in SaintDomingo. He was detained there during the time both of Santhonax andToussaint. He was also a proprietor of estates in the island. He wasthe man who planned the renovation of its agriculture after theabolition of slavery, and one of the great instruments in bringing it tothe perfection mentioned by La Croix. In the year 1801 he was calledupon by Toussaint to repair to Paris, to lay before the Directory thenew Constitution, which had been agreed on in Saint Domingo. He obeyedthe summons. It happened that he arrived in France just at the momentof the Peace of Amiens. Here he found, to his inexpressible surpriseand grief, that Bonaparte was preparing an immense armament, underLeclerc, to restore slavery in Saint Domingo. He remonstrated againstthe expedition: he told him to his face that though the army destinedfor this purpose was composed of the brilliant conquerors of Europe,they could do nothing in the Antilles. He stated, as another argumentagainst the expedition, that it was totally unnecessary, and, therefore,criminal; for that everything was going on well in Saint Domingo; theproprietors in peaceable possession of their estates, cultivation makingrapid progress, the Blacks industrious, and beyond example happy."