_St. Jago de Cuba._
Madame G----, a native of the Gonaives, having lost her husband at the
beginning of the revolution, left St. Domingo, and sought a retreat
from the horrors that ravaged that devoted island in the peaceful
obscurity of Barracoa. Three infant daughters cheered her solitude; and
she found in cultivating their minds a never failing source of delight.
Some faithful slaves who had followed her, supplied by their industry
her wants. The beauty of her person, the elegance of her manners and
the propriety of her conduct, rendered her the admiration of all
who beheld her, whilst her benevolence, which shared with the poor
the scanty pittance she possessed, made her the idol of those whose
wants she relieved. Thus she lived, contented, if not happy, till the
arrival of the French army at St. Domingo recalled its inhabitants to
their deserted homes.
Madame G----, lured by the hope of reinstating her children in their
paternal inheritance, left Barracoa, followed by the blessings and
regret of all to whom she was known. On arriving at the Cape she found
a heap of ashes, and shuddered with horror at the dreary aspect of her
native country. But she viewed her children, recollected that on her
exertions they depended, and determined to sacrifice every thought of
comfort to their advancement. Some houses she owned in the Cape, upon
being rebuilt, promised to yield her a handsome revenue; and she passed
in anxious expectation the time during which the army kept possession
of the Cape. At length the moment of the evacuation arrived, and the
wretched Creoles were again reduced to the dreadful alternative of
perishing with want in foreign countries, or of becoming victims to
the rage of the exasperated negroes in their own. Whilst Madame G----
hesitated, she received a letter from one of the black chiefs, who had
been a slave to her mother. He advised her not to think of leaving the
country; assured her that it was the intention of Dessalines to protect
all the white inhabitants who put confidence in him, and that herself
and her children would be particularly respected. The dread of poverty
in a strange country with three girls, the eldest of whom was only
fifteen, induced her to stay. Many others, with less reason to expect
protection, followed her example.
When the time allowed for the evacuation had expired, the negroes
entered as masters. During the first days reigned a deceitful calm
which was followed by a dreadful storm.
The proclamation of Dessalines, mentioned in my last letter was
published. Armed negroes entered the houses and drove the inhabitants
into the streets. The men were led to prison, the women were loaded
with chains. The unfortunate madame G----, chained to her eldest
daughter, and the two youngest chained together, thus toiled, exposed
to the sun, from earliest dawn to setting day, followed by negroes
who, on the least appearance of faintness, drove them forward with
whips. A fortnight later the general massacre took place, but the four
hopeless beings of whom I particularly write, were not led to the field
of slaughter. They were kept closely guarded, without knowing for what
fate they were reserved, expecting every moment to hear their final
sentence. They were sitting one day in mournful silence, when the door
of their prison opened, and the chief, whose letter had induced them to
stay, appeared. He saluted madame G---- with great familiarity, told
her it was to his orders she owed her life, and said he would continue
his friendship and protection if she would give him her eldest daughter
in marriage. The wretched mother caught the terrified Adelaide, who
sunk fainting into her arms. The menacing looks of the negro became
more horrible. He advanced to seize the trembling girl. Touch her not,
cried the frantic mother; death will be preferable to such protection.
Turning coldly from her he said, You shall have your choice. A few
minutes after a guard seized the mother and the two youngest daughters
and carried them out, leaving the eldest insensible on the floor. They
were borne to a gallows which had been erected before their prison,
and immediately hanged. Adelaide was then carried to the house of the
treacherous chief, who informed her of the fate of her mother, and
asked her if she would consent to become his wife? ah! no, she replied,
let me follow my mother. A fate more dreadful awaited her. The monster
gave her to his guard, who hung her by the throat on an iron hook in
the market place, where the lovely, innocent, unfortunate victim slowly
expired.