The hour was nigh! The hands advanced on the dial plate of time.
Events, which no man could have foreseen or controlled, had gathered
for judgment, and at last a great nation had decreed freedom to a
poor, debauched and servile race. But who should lead them, who
should now defend them against themselves—give shape and system to
their undisciplined wishes—carry them safely through the anarchy of
unbounded liberty, and crystallize them into a STATE, whose only
sure basis is the _Rights and Duties of Labor, Thought, Speech and
Worship, the Rights and Duties of Manhood_?
The Hour _has_ come and the Man. Toussaint Breda, from his eyrie near
Dondon, sweeps the horizon. In the East he sees the decadent power
of Spain—it has spoken no word of freedom for the blacks. In the
West he sees the white sails of England—she is hand and glove with
the planters to reëstablish slavery. In the North France and Laveaux
are nigh death. France only has proclaimed liberty to the blacks.
Toussaint sees the “opening” for his race and for himself, and from
this day he is Toussaint Louverture—the first of the blacks. Bone of
their bone and skin of their skin, he alone knows their needs, their
capacities and their hearts. With the clear glance of inspiration he
sees the moment, with the firm grasp of talent he seizes it.
General Laveaux saw that this was the man, and through the Priest
La Haye made advances to him. Toussaint is wise and he is wary, he
keeps his own counsel—he consults not Jean François, who had once
cast him into prison, nor Biassou, nor the Marquis Hermona. As usual,
he performs his duties; as usual, he partakes of the communion;
as usual, his troops look to him, and Hermona said “there exists
on earth no purer soul.”[33] He has placed his wife and children
in safety—he has ordered his affairs—his horse stands saddled and
bridled: then, tearing off his epaulettes, he casts them at the
feet of the Spanish officers, flings himself on his horse and rides
like the wind out of the camp. The Spaniards are for a moment
paralyzed—they pursue him; but neither hoof nor pistol can reach him.
Toussaint is not to be caught. On the 4th of May (1794), he pulls
down the Spanish and hoists the French colors. Marmalade, Plaisance,
Ennery, Dondon, Acul and Limbé submit to him. Confusion and fear
prevail among the Spaniards. Joy exalts the negroes. Laveaux is
saved, and the colony not yet lost to France. Toussaint is a power
in the State—the negroes everywhere respond to the sound of his
voice—they look to him as their hero, defender, guide, and guard.
Did he deceive or sacrifice them? The mulattoes and whites have
called him treacherous, ambitious and unscrupulous. It is easy to
do so, and so to account for the power and success of this singular
man—but the explanation is not satisfactory. No brave man will seek
for a base motive, even in his enemy, when a noble one is patent and
suffices better. Toussaint’s talent, courage, and honor were inspired
by the lofty hope of redeeming his race; and the negroes, fanatic in
their hatred of slavery, became invincible. The electric spark which
fired his soul fired theirs. Great is he who spends his blood and his
life, fighting for liberty—but base is the man who kills and destroys
for fame or plunder.
Toussaint sets himself to his work. The whole province of the North
soon falls into his hands, and he drives the Spanish ally, Jean
François, westward along La Montaigne Noire. Then he hastens into the
rich valley of the Artibonite, attacks and beats back the English,
and besieges the strong fortress of St. Marc; but neither forces nor
ammunition are sufficient and he retires to the mountain fastnesses
of Marmalade to recruit his troops. On the 9th of October (1794),
he carries the fortress of San Miguel by storm. Laveaux and Rigaud
cannot withhold their admiration at his skill and prowess. His
horse and he are as one. This black centaur carries success at his
saddlebow. His troops love and admire, while his enemies fear him.
Toussaint determines to drive away the English, and he falls with
fury upon General Brisbane in the Artibonite, and compels him to
retreat. But Jean François hung over him in the heights of La Grande
Rivière. Again he retires to Dondon and organizes his forces to
repel the Spaniards—in four days he takes and destroys twenty-eight
positions—but Jean François with a superior force threatens his
rear, while the English are in front: again he is baffled; he returns
to Dondon. Toussaint is no longer the leader of marauding bands, but
the head of an army. His troops are mostly raw and ignorant, badly
clothed, armed, and fed, but they trust in him and have courage.
He seeks for efficient officers, and finds Dessalines, Desroulaux,
Maurepas, Clervaux, Christophe and Lamartinière: these he must
command with discretion—his troops he must provide with arms,
ammunition and food—he must watch the forces of the Spaniards, the
movements of the English—intrigues abroad and treachery at home:
henceforth he must organize campaigns. He has now little time for the
pleasures of sense—the enjoyment of books—the rest of home. Rarely
can he snatch an hour for his wife and children from the life of
ceaseless care. But does he, then, sigh for the hut and the bananas
and the careless slavery of M. Bayou? Human nature is one; no one
would have changed the life of a man, every faculty in action, for
the repose of a dog: not the black Toussaint.
The treaty of Basle had secured the cession of the whole Spanish part
of the island to France. Jean François was, therefore, at liberty
to retire to Spain, to enjoy his honors. There remained but the
English now to distract the plans of Toussaint and the French. One
more disturbing element yet existed. The mulattoes felt themselves
superior to the blacks, and the rightful successors to the whites,
in the honors and government of the island. Jealous of Toussaint and
the favors shown the blacks, headed by Villate, they rose against
Laveaux, the governor at the Cape, and threw him into prison; his
danger was extreme.[34] Toussaint descends on the town with ten
thousand blacks and saves him. Laveaux appointed him his lieutenant,
second in command in the island, and declared that he was the
“Spartacus” foretold by Raynal, who should avenge the sufferings of
his race.[35] Confidence grew now, between the blacks and the whites,
and Lacroix, who is no way friendly to the blacks, admits that “if
St. Domingo still carried the colors of France, it was solely owing
to an old negro who seemed to bear a commission from Heaven.”[36] The
French continued to send commissioners (Santhonax among them), but
Toussaint was the moving mind; and when Laveaux, having been elected
delegate to the Assembly, sailed for France, Santhonax finally
appointed him Commander-in-chief.[37]
This history will, for a short time, be more simple. Toussaint has
filled the “Opening;” he is “Louverture.” A strong hand and a clear
head, though black, direct the affairs of the island. Daily he gains
strength, and the confidence of the negroes. They flock to his
army—they listen and obey his words. Christophe, in the North, had
encouraged cultivation. Toussaint throws his powerful influence into
the work—his maxim, “that the liberty of the blacks can never be
solid without agriculture,”[38] passes from mouth to mouth among the
negroes, and rouses in them the desire for lands and wealth—for the
_first time_ now possible. He wishes that Cap and the towns along
the North should be rebuilt. It is done; they rise from their ashes.
All hopes are centered in the General-in-chief: HE can restore peace
and prosperity: he alone.[39]
The English now were sore bested. The French pressed them in the
West; Desfourneaux in the North; Rigaud in the South; Christophe
had carried the heights of Vallière, the Vendée of St. Domingo.
Louverture again attempts to take St. Marc: thrice he storms it,
thrice he deserves success; but again he fails to clutch this strong
fortress. He turns now to Mirebelais, an interior Thermopylæ,
strongly fortified by the English: his lieutenant, Mornay,
intercepted Montalembert, who was advancing with 700 men and two
pieces of artillery. The next day he drives in all the English
troops, invests the village of St. Louis, carries the forts by
assault, and in fourteen days totally defeats the English, taking
200 prisoners, eleven pieces of cannon, and military stores. The
efforts of the English are nearly at an end—weak and weary, their
strength is spent. Whitlocke, Williamson, Whyte, Horneck, Brisbane,
and Markham, have tried to subdue these rebels and to wrest the
colony from France: they have bitten a file. Millions of pounds have
been wasted; Brisbane and Markham are killed; thousands of soldiers
slain; the yellow fever, too, has done its work. Poor fellows! The
“bloody ichor” has been bloody tears. “Condemned to fall without
a conflict, and to die without renown!”[40] If the ghosts of the
dead hover about us, as some love to think, heavy must be the air of
St. Domingo—pale shades of black and white still carrying on their
conflict, or sighing over the past.
General Maitland at last decided to leave the island, and between him
and Toussaint there went on a struggle of diplomacy; but Louverture
was more than his equal: he accepted his honors, but refused his
bribes. They made terms, and Maitland evacuated Port au Prince and
St. Nicholas. One incident illustrates General Maitland’s confidence
in Toussaint. Before the disembarkation of his troops, he determined
to return Louverture’s visit. He proceeded to his camp, through a
country full of negroes, with but three attendants. On his way he
heard that Roume, the French commissioner, had advised Toussaint to
seize him; but he proceeded, and when he reached the camp, after
waiting a short time, Toussaint entered, and, handing him two
letters, (Roume’s and his reply), said: “Read; I could not see you
till I had written, so that you could see that I am incapable of
baseness.”[41]
Gen. Lacroix has written that he saw, in the archives at Port au
Prince, the offers made to Toussaint, securing him in the power and
kingship of the island, and liberty to his race, with a sufficient
naval force on the part of England, provided he would renounce France
and form a commercial treaty with England.[42] The event leads one to
regret that Toussaint’s ambition was not superior to his loyalty to
France.
During these proceedings with the English, Santhonax had departed for
France, partly at his own request, partly because he was in the way
of Toussaint’s plans for the restoration of the island. With him,
Toussaint sent his two sons to receive some education in France,
and to show, as his letter stated, “his confidence in the Directory
* * * at a time when complaints were busy against him:” he said,
“there exist no longer any internal agitations; and I hold myself
responsible for the submission to order and duty of the blacks—my
brethren,” etc.
Rochambeau and Santhonax had both found that Toussaint’s power was
superior to theirs. The planters and the mulattoes in Paris were ever
busy against him: he had much to fear. But the Directory sustained
him, and sent Gen. Hedouville (who at once betrayed his distrust)
to watch and control him. This was not an easy thing to do, for
Louverture knew more than they all about St. Domingo.