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."