St. Domingo, 1797.
I have to regret that in consequence of the greater part of the
territory being occupied by the enemy, or, according to the more common
term, the brigands, whose out-posts approach very near to the stations
garrisoned by our troops, I have not the same opportunity of witnessing
the scenery and state of culture of this island, as I had of Barbadoes,
and Martinique: you will not, therefore, expect similar details.
From the horrible events which have passed within the few last years,
the general face of the country, as well as the towns, must have
necessarily undergone a melancholy change:—destructive anarchy—the
consuming flames of war and rebellion,—and a barbarous system of
devastation have combined to lay waste this once rich and beautiful
colony[17].
In the great chain of West Indian islands, St. Domingo lies between
Porto Rico and Cuba, thirty leagues east of Jamaica, in 19° north
latitude, and 69° west longitude. It is nearly four hundred miles in
length, and, at the broadest part, almost one hundred and forty in
width. Its distance from England is about 3500 miles. It has the honor
of having been chosen, by the great Columbus, as the territory upon
which he first established a settlement, when he made his splendid
discovery of the new world. From the natives of Cuba the inquiring
navigator ascertained that the island was called Hayti; but on making
the land, and touching at Cape St. Nicholas, Dec. 6th, 1492, he
denominated it Espagnola, in honor of the kingdom, by which he was
employed.
Proceeding from St. Nicholas Mole, along the coast, Columbus there fixed
upon a spot for erecting a fort, which he termed Navidad; but, this
being destroyed, by the naked inhabitants of the country, he, on making
his second visit in November 1493, commenced a settlement, at a more
promising site, and erected a town, which he named Isabella, in
compliment to the Queen of Castile, his patroness.
The city of St. Domingo, from which the modern appellation of the island
is derived, was founded in 1498, six years after the first landing, by
Bartholomew Columbus, the Adelantado or Lieutenant-governor, who thought
it expedient, during his brother’s absence in Europe, to remove the
colony to a more commodious situation on the southern coast, where he
caused a handsome city to be erected, naming it after the favorite saint
of that time, St. Dominick.
The French possessions are in the western division, the territory to the
east being occupied by the Spaniards. The part held by the French was
originally settled by a small detachment of those celebrated adventurers
from the little island of Tortuga, who, for more than half a century, in
daring and successful enterprise, committed such extensive depredations
upon Spanish property and commerce, under the avenging denomination of
Buccaneers.
The bigoted and indolent Spaniards, persisting in the error committed by
the early followers of Columbus, have expected to obtain riches,
suddenly, from the _bowels_ of the earth: but the French, with better
policy, patiently, though actively, bestowed their labour upon its
_surface_, which rewarded their industry, not only with greater
certainty, but with a more generous return.
In an island, which, in point of size, almost vies with England, many
varieties of soil and climate must, necessarily, be found; but the land,
in general, is said to be fertile, and the French cultivators have known
how to avail themselves of its fecundity.
Prior to the destructive revolution, this noble colony was the pride and
boast of Frenchmen; and justly so, for never were the gorgeous vestments
of nature and art combined with a more happy effect. While the great
parent of the island presented her stupendous mountains; her picturesque
valleys and acclivities; her lakes and rivers; her rude forests and wild
savannas; and her fine landscapes adorned with luxuriant groves of
perennial verdure—the hand of industry embellished the whole with
unprecedented richness and variety: the plains were loaded with sugar,
rows of limes and citrons forming the fences of the canes; the sides of
the hills were clothed with coffee; canals, and other well-constructed
aqueducts brought bounteous streams to the estates; excellent roads led
to the towns and dwellings; plantations of provisions, of cotton, and of
indigo; elegant houses, and substantial sugar-works; orange groves, and
orchards of other delicious fruits; neatly enclosed gardens, ornamental
hedges, and improved grounds appeared on every quarter to grace the
magnificent scenery. Thus, gifted by nature and enriched by culture, St.
Domingo, at the commencement of the French revolution, stood unrivalled
among the islands of the Atlantic, and was considered as the garden of
the western world.
At this high period of its prosperity every thing that could be required
for the comfort or convenience of the inhabitants—every thing for use or
health, for profit or pleasure, seemed to be here assembled: labour was
rewarded with bounteous returns; the exports of produce were abundant;
the elevated lands afforded a salubrious climate; handsome carriages,
and elegantly furnished dwellings, with cooling verandas, and marble
baths, were luxuries commanded by the planters; while their tables were
supplied with choice viands, and the finest wines and fruits, and,
surrounded with riches and tranquillity, they lived in the highest
enjoyment of sumptuous gratification.
The accounts which we hear related by the people of the colony
respecting the luxuriant crops, the delicious productions of the
orchards and gardens, and the exquisite improvements which embellished
the fine plains of Cape Français and the Cul de Sac, and the delightful
borders of the river Artibonite, might lead to a belief that these spots
were unrivalled on any part of the globe.
The superior state to which this interesting colony was advanced,
proceeded, in a great measure, from the fertility of the soil, and the
laudable industry bestowed upon its culture: but much was to be
attributed, likewise, to the favorable circumstance of the planters and
other inhabitants making it their settled residence—their chosen and
only home. They did not, like the majority of the British colonists,
devote their labour, exclusively with a view of obtaining a competency
to enable them to return and live in an easy and independent condition
among their friends in Europe; but they cultivated their estates, both
for use and comfort, looking no less to the convenience and decoration
of their place of abode, than to the profitable returns, which were to
constitute the substantial reward of their toil.
The plain of the Cape is situated in the northern division, not distant
from the city whence it derives its name. It is a level territory,
nearly fifty miles in length, and twelve in width, possessing superior
fertility of soil. Throughout its whole extent it was covered with rich
plantations of sugar, divided by rows of fragrant limes and citrons—the
fields and dwellings receiving all the advantages of ornamental and
productive improvement consequent upon being in the vicinity of the
largest town of the colony.
The plain of the Cul de Sac is in the western division, a little to the
east of Port au Prince. It is nine miles wide, and extends between
thirty and forty miles in length. This vast field was, likewise, spread
with luxuriant crops of sugar, and adorned with the handsome dwellings,
and other buildings of opulent planters; its bordering hills being
richly clad with coffee, and its prolific estates having not only the
benefit usually derived from being in the neighbourhood of a large and
populous town; but also the peculiar advantage of being watered, in very
dry weather, by means of aqueducts constructed, at great toil and
expense, for that purpose. The produce obtained from these fertile and
highly cultivated lands was immense, and the amount of profit, in
proportion to the labour and expenditure bestowed, was unusually
abundant.
The extensive trade, with the quantity of shipping, and number of
sailors employed in it, rendered this colony of great importance to the
parent-country;—and the attention given to its interests proved the
government to be duly sensible of its value. Even the distribution of
the streams was deemed a subject of sufficient magnitude to require the
establishment of an express committee, which was appointed to regulate
the concerns of the reservoirs and aqueducts formed in different parts
of the territory for the purpose of supplying water to these generous
and magnificent possessions.
The French part of the island was divided into three great districts—the
northern, the western, and the southern. The western was the most
populous, and contained the greatest number of sugar estates. Port au
Prince is the principal town of this province. In time of peace it was
the residence of the governor, and regarded as the capital of the
colony. It contained nearly six hundred houses, and fifteen thousand
inhabitants.
Cape François is in the northern division. This was the largest and
handsomest town in the settlement; having more than eight hundred
well-built houses, of brick or stone, and a population amounting to
twenty thousand individuals, of whom about three-fifths were slaves—more
than one-fifth free people of colour; and the rest whites. This place
being situated more conveniently for an expeditious communication by
sea, the governor was required to remove thither in time of war, when it
consequently became the capital, not of the northern division only, but
of the whole colony.
The southern division was not so populous as either of the others; nor
did it equal them in its returns of produce. Les Cayes is the principal
town of this district.
Cape St. Nicholas stands at the western point of the northern division.
This town consists of about two hundred and fifty houses, built of wood,
according to the common manner of the West Indies, and covered with
shingles.
The total population of the three districts was calculated at more than
half a million, of whom above thirty thousand were whites, nearly
twenty-five thousand free people of colour, and the remainder
slaves[18].
But, alas! after exhibiting so much of natural beauty, and improved
scenery, and being brought into such an enviable state of culture—after
rewarding the industry of its inhabitants with such a high degree of
opulence and general convenience, and enriching the parent-country with
its bounteous productions and extensive commerce—after giving birth to
splendid cities, multiplying its population, and raising itself to the
first rank among colonies, what a sudden and melancholy reverse has
befallen this once magnificent, but now most wretched and disastrous
settlement! All its distinguished advantages have been sacrificed to the
hypothetical doctrines of the French school of modern philosophy; and,
by one fatal error, this happy land has been exposed to the horrible
ravages of a cruel and blood-stained revolution.
Not aware that, in order to be benefited by their wild theoretical
improvements, mankind would require to be formed anew, the self-created
lawgivers of France, despising all the advantages of experience, and
disregarding the actual condition of the human race, overturned, at a
word, the majestic fabric of society! Under the pretence of a
high-sounding, but hollow humanity the indigent, the idle, and the
vicious have been set loose to ravage and commit every species of
injustice upon the opulent and industrious.
Unappalled by the mischievous effect which their frantic innovations had
produced, among a civilized people at home, the disorganizing system has
been extended to a barbarous population, accustomed only to savage life;
and the result has been precisely such as every person possessing the
least knowledge of the West Indies must have predicted. The fatal decree
of May 15, 1791, produced one wide and dreadful scene of devastation. It
was the signal for revolt and massacre. The whites, and the people of
colour, were declared by the National Assembly to be equal, and, too
soon, raging flames, and the destructive sword verified the levelling
manifesto! Ruin instantly spread around, and all was anarchy and
carnage. In a few dismal hours of the morning of August 23d, of the same
year (1791), the rich plain of the Cape was drenched with the blood of
its inhabitants, and all its fine buildings, and luxuriant plantations
were reduced to ashes. Restraint being removed, jealousy, suspicion,
revenge, and all the worst passions of uncivilized man were left to rage
in lawless sway. The most horrible cruelties which savage nature could
invent were practised upon the whites—men, women, and children—the aged,
and the tender infant, all were slaughtered with one undistinguishing
barbarity; and a scene of human woe was introduced such as no former age
had witnessed. Even death became a boon, for, too frequently, lingering
torture, mockery, and violation, were made to aggravate and prolong the
departing moments! With the same inhuman spirit, likewise, were the most
shocking enormities committed upon the dead bodies of those who fell.
The revolt began at one of the estates in the plain of Cape François, a
few miles from the city; but it was soon discovered that the slaves of
the other plantations were united in a concerted plot to massacre all
the whites, and set fire to the buildings, and the standing crops of
sugar.
The few persons who had the good fortune to save themselves fled to the
Cape, and, by announcing what was passing in the plain, spread terror
and consternation through the town. Great numbers of the inhabitants,
particularly of the women and children, immediately thronged on board
the vessels in the harbour for safety; while the major part of the
citizens flew to arms, and joined the troops in defence of the place;
which it was every moment expected would be attacked from without, or
destroyed by the rising of the blacks within its walls. The city was
thus saved for a time, but it has since, like the bounteous plain which
graced its environs, fallen a victim to the flames of an all-devouring
and merciless rebellion.
Your imagination will figure to you more correctly than it can be
conveyed by the pen, the splendid but horrible spectacle, which must
have presented itself to the inhabitants of the Cape, when the morning
dawn opened to their view the extended plain, with its numerous mansions
and sugar-works, and prolific fields of canes, all raging in a wide sea
of conflagration.
War, pestilence, and the blazing torch spread their ravages to the other
provinces, when the rich improvements, which bounteous industry had
given to this favored colony were destroyed, and all was converted into
one vast field of desolation and carnage.
The cruelties and atrocities which were committed cannot be stated in
terms sufficiently strong to convey an adequate idea of their enormity;
they form a picture of unexampled horror. It was calculated that within
a few weeks, after the rising of the negroes in the plain of the Cape,
two thousand white persons were massacred, more than one thousand
plantations destroyed, and twelve hundred families reduced from opulence
to absolute misery and want.
Civil war, waged with its utmost fury, and accompanied with the
extremest violence of malignant factions, has since prevailed in the
different parts of the settlement—the conflict being aggravated by the
most rancorous feelings of hatred and revenge; and each party aiming at
the total destruction of the other.
In addition to the multitudes of whites and of all the various shades of
colour, who have been murdered or executed—who have fallen in battle, or
been cut off by fatigue or the common disease of the country, a direful
pestilence which broke out among the crowded bodies of negroes, who were
assembled in revolt, carried off thousands and tens of thousands of
their numbers.
By all these causes, together with an extensive emigration, the
population is supposed to be diminished to less than half what it was
before the revolution, while this princely settlement has been reduced
to a wilderness, fit only to be inhabited by savages.
What benefit is likely to result from our invasion of a colony so
circumstanced it is beyond my ability to conjecture. All the troops
which England could spare, would not be sufficient to vanquish those who
are in arms, and to subjugate the different hordes who have revolted. If
it were possible to conquer the numerous bodies, against whom we have to
contend, still the settlement would require to be new-peopled, before it
could be again made subservient to the beneficial purposes of
cultivation and commerce; for it is not to be expected that men, who
have acquired a sufficient knowledge of their power to feel that they
are the stronger party, and have lived, during several years, in the
most licentious, and profligate freedom, can be brought to surrender
their liberty, however acquired, patiently expose their backs to the
lash, and again endure all the hardships and degradation of slavery.
It is probable that from the earliest period of the revolt, in the plain
of Cape François, in the year 1791, proposals were made, by the
emigrants, to the Lieutenant-governor at Jamaica, and, through him, to
the ministers of the British government, to induce them to send forces
to take possession of the colony in the name of the King of England. But
the war with France had not then commenced, and their overtures could
not be accepted, without violating the neutrality which it was desirable
that England should maintain (if it should be possible) towards her
turbulent and factious neighbour. After the horrible and exterminating
massacre of the whites, at the Cape, in 1793, and the burning of that
fine city, the circumstances were different: Louis XVI. having been
dragged to the guillotine, and the French Republic having declared war
against England.
The proceedings which were now adopted implied that ministers had been
deluded into the persuasion that the French part of the island might be
subjugated, and annexed as an useful possession to the British empire.
Accordingly Monsieur de Charmilly, who possessed a property in the
district of Grand Anse, was sent out from England, with instructions for
Sir Adam Williamson to detach troops from Jamaica to take possession of
such posts in St. Domingo, as the colonists might be willing to
surrender to the English.
The first division, placed under the command of Lieut.-colonel
Whitelocke, left Port-Royal in September 1793, and sailed for Jeremie, a
small town on the south-western point of the island, which place
surrendered upon terms previously arranged between the commissioners and
Sir Adam Williamson.
Soon afterwards Cape St. Nicholas accepted the same conditions, and a
small division of the troops from Jeremie was sent to that garrison; a
second limited detachment proceeding thither likewise from Jamaica.
Before the expiration of the year 1793, Jean Rabel, Arcahaye, St. Marc,
Leogane, and several other places yielded upon similar terms; and, in
consequence of these posts being so willingly given up to British
protection, an eager, but treacherous hope was imbibed that the whole
colony would submit without opposition.
But the direful disease of the country had already commenced its
ravages, and Sir Adam Williamson found himself in the distressful
predicament of being compelled to reduce the garrison of Jamaica to a
very small number, in order to detach a third division of troops for the
purpose of aiding their sinking comrades, in holding possession of the
places which had voluntarily submitted to be garrisoned by the English.
Discouraging circumstances soon began to cloud the prospect of a
successful issue: an offensive operation was undertaken against Tiburon,
a strong position near the S. W. point of the island, and failed in
consequence of the colonists not being able to raise the force, which
they had promised to bring in support of the attack. No troops had yet
arrived from England—nor could any more be spared from Jamaica; and, the
yellow fever, spreading with fearful malignity, was rapidly destroying
those already in the colony.
The year 1793 had not closed before it became manifest that the British
force was insufficient to give security even to the places which had
surrendered; and, seeing the numbers so speedily diminish, the zeal and
confidence of the inhabitants declined: those who had been neutral
became hostile; and many who were friendly preserved only a lukewarm
attachment.
The proceedings of 1794 were chequered with various marks of good and
bad fortune. A powerful reinforcement was expected under General Whyte;
and considerable bodies of colonial troops were forming under the active
and zealous Baron Montalembert, which, from their knowledge of the
country, and their power of resisting the destructive influence of the
climate, it was hoped would be extensively useful. But, without waiting
for these additional means, the season being favorable for military
operations, the few troops which remained effective, were employed at
the beginning of the year, in various enterprises; in all of which both
the officers and men conducted themselves with their accustomed bravery.
The post of Tiburon was again attacked, and taken; as was, likewise, the
fortress of l’Acul, near Leogane; but against a post called Bompard, on
the northern coast, the result was less fortunate. The soldiers acted
with the most determined spirit and good conduct; but were obliged to
retire from the attack, in consequence of being opposed by superior
numbers.
Notwithstanding these energetic measures, a knowledge of the sickly
state, and reduced numbers of the troops could not be concealed from the
enemy, who was, accordingly, emboldened to assume an offensive attitude;
and, in the month of April, Rigaud, the mulatto commander, proceeded
from Les Cayes, with a body of two thousand brigands, to attack the post
of Tiburon; but it was defended with the utmost gallantry, and the
besiegers were repulsed with uncommon slaughter. Fort l’Acul was also
defended with equal bravery, against a very determined and formidable
attack; but a few more such victories would have led to entire defeat,
since the weakened ranks of our little army must have been utterly
exhausted. In addition to these offensive operations, on the part of the
brigands, Jean Rabel, one of the posts, which, only a short time before,
had voluntarily sought the protection of the British, was lost by the
treachery of our supposed allies; who rose against their commanders, and
gave up the place to the enemy.
Such was the unpromising state of our affairs in the settlement, after
the lapse of only half a year from the first landing of the British
troops at Jeremie; and the fatal experience, which has since been
purchased at such a prodigious waste of treasure, and of the best blood
of our country, proves that it would have been wise to have withdrawn
the surviving troops at this period, and abandoned every attempt at
conquest in this baneful and deep-stained colony. But the government was
now pledged to the disastrous measure; many of the colonists were still
sanguine; and it was, perhaps, consistent with the principle on which we
had engaged in the contest, not to despair of ultimate success, without
making a more powerful effort to obtain it; yet, it was manifest that
whatever further advantage might be acquired, could only be gained by
decided force of arms; for the confidence of the inhabitants in our
power of giving them protection and defence was too much shaken ever to
be restored.
In the month of May General Whyte arrived, with a considerable body of
troops, to take the chief command: and the corps raised by the Baron de
Montalembert being considerably augmented, as well as peculiarly
effective, with regard to the climate, a brighter prospect seemed to
open; whence, in the minds of those who were enthusiastic, the
anticipations of success were, in some degree, confirmed.
After the least possible delay, in preparing for the attack, the army
moved against Port au Prince. Every thing that valour and good
discipline could effect was achieved; and the town surrendered on the
4th of June. This capture, highly honorable to the troops, was said to
be abundantly profitable, likewise, to those who survived; in
consequence of a crowd of shipping, deeply laden with colonial produce,
being taken in the harbour.
But, alas! even this splendid conquest, rich and glorious as it was,
bore, within it, fatal marks of discouragement. It was not gained
without a severe struggle, consequently not without a heavy loss; and
the enemy, although compelled to abandon the town, retired only to the
hills, at a short distance from it, where he established a chain of
posts, and, holding communication with Les Cayes the capital of the
southern division, placed himself in a strong position; and caused the
forces in Port au Prince to pursue a system of daily labour and nightly
watching, which proved more destructive to them than the sword. The
fever raged with such dreadful mortality, that, by the time the
defensive lines were finished, which it was necessary to construct for
the security of the garrison, scarcely a sufficient number of troops
remained to mount the different guards: and it was sadly afflicting to
find that the greater proportion of these brave men, instead of being
led to fresh victories, shortly perished by disease.
General Whyte seeing no hope of effecting any new enterprise, or of
making a further progress towards the general conquest of the colony,
unless he could obtain the aid of great additional reinforcements,
embarked for England, in September 1794, leaving the command to General
Horneck, who was compelled to act upon the defensive, having the
difficult task of maintaining with a feeble and inadequate force, the
posts which had surrendered to the British.
The weakened state of the army now disclosed itself, in every quarter.
Those of the colonists who were in declared opposition acquired
confidence; those who were wavering and undecided became hostile; many,
who had been friendly, grew timid and desponding—some proved treacherous
and deceitful; and only a small number remained faithful to the cause of
the English, whose assistance they had so earnestly invoked.
Such a situation was calculated to invite attacks from without, and to
encourage plots and conspiracies among our doubtful friends, within the
garrisons. Accordingly some of the places again fell into the possession
of the enemy! Our allies at St. Marc revolted, and gave up the town to
the republicans; and Rigaud the mulatto chief, advancing with augmented
means, retook Tiburon and Leogane, and was even daring enough to conduct
an enterprise against Fort Bizotton in the immediate vicinity of the
capital.
The year 1795 commenced with very unfavorable auspices. Not only had the
troops to struggle against the dreadful ravages of a malignant disease,
and to resist superior numbers, improved in discipline, and encouraged
to vigorous hostility; but their situation was rendered still more
distressing and perilous, in consequence of a spirit of treachery and
disaffection prevailing among those, with whom, and on whose behalf they
were acting.
It was scarcely to be expected, indeed, that the motley and
heterogeneous assemblage which had been brought together should long
continue to concert their measures in harmony and faithful combination:
co-operating with the British troops were bodies of French colonists, of
mulattoes, and of negroes, besides volunteer inhabitants of the towns
and parishes, and a corps of about three hundred reluctant Spaniards.
Opposed to these, in the north, was an army, commanded by Toussaint,
amounting to 17,000, or 18,000; consisting of republican troops, French
colonists, and revolted negroes: in the south was a division nearly as
powerful, under the command of Rigaud, formed of mulattoes, white
colonists and impressed slaves. These two bodies, although both
contending against the British, were in decided and inveterate
hostility, and only restrained by the presence of a common enemy from
waging a war of extermination against each other.
A third, and still more numerous band of revolted and runaway slaves had
retired to the woods, and the mountains, where, without engaging in the
existing contest, they were lying in wait, equally disposed to involve
either party in destruction.
Besides these there were various irregular hordes of brigands—ruffians
and desperadoes of the worst description, wandering about as marauders,
assassins, or mid-day murderers in different parts of the country; or
employing themselves in piratical excursions, from several points of the
sea-coast, in which they captured numerous small vessels, both English
and American; when they usually massacred the men; and carried off the
women, if any chanced to be on board, for purposes which might render
enviable the fate, even of those who were killed.
In the early part of this year a dark conspiracy was discovered among
the inhabitants of St. Marc’s, to confine the British commandant who had
taken the town, and to give the place up, again, to the enemy; and, soon
afterwards, a still deeper and more extensive plot was detected at Port
au Prince, by which it was intended to seize the town and put all the
English to death.
Viewing the actual state of the troops and garrisons at this period, it
was evident that every fair prospect of ultimate success had vanished.
There seemed, no longer, to be any object in carrying on hostilities in
this ill-fated country—the only effect of which would be to produce the
untimely death of multitudes of brave men, who must perish in a
fruitless contest.
Sir Adam Williamson and the ministers had been deceived by the favorable
and exaggerated accounts of interested individuals, respecting the
dispositions of the French inhabitants remaining in the island. The
greater number of the whites, who escaped at the time of the general
massacre, had emigrated: of those who were still in the colony many were
mere adventurers, some of whom had possessed themselves of the estates
of their murdered, or emigrated countrymen: some were neutral, and were
lying in wait to join the strongest party—and the few, who were of
better principle, being over-zealous, deceived themselves and others.
The majority had no view but that of regaining, or securing their own
property and plantations.
Notwithstanding all these discouraging circumstances the government,
probably from being further deceived, by the representations of sanguine
or designing colonists, after the Success of General Whyte at Port au
Prince, still sent out additional reinforcements, and even indicated an
intention of retaining and consolidating the conquests which had been
made, by appointing Sir Adam Williamson Governor-general of St. Domingo.
In this capacity His Excellency arrived at Port au Prince, and assumed
the government in May 1795. In April a body of troops, about seventeen
hundred in number, arrived from Ireland; and, in August, another
reinforcement of nearly a thousand men came from Gibraltar; yet these
were insufficient to make up the former losses. But, during this year,
as if flattering expectations still prevailed, preparations were made at
home for sending out two formidable expeditions, one to the Charibbee
Islands, the other to St. Domingo; and, from the scale of these
armaments being far more extensive, and the troops to be embarked, more
numerous, than upon any former expedition to the West Indies, it was
calculated, probably, that the force assembled might be competent to
overpower all opposition, and to place not only St. Domingo but the
whole of the French possessions to windward, under British dominion.
Possibly, if these unprecedented armaments could have been conducted,
unbroken, to their destination, the French Charibbee Islands might have
been subdued in the first campaign; and, from the known valour of the
troops, many new stations might have been conquered in St. Domingo; but,
from the wide destruction caused by the ravages of a malignant disease,
it was plain that all the forces which England could have spared, would
not have been sufficient to have maintained possession of the various
towns and posts, in the French part of the island, even if the whole of
them could, at this time, have been captured.
But the army, already in the colony, was not allowed to remain idle, in
the anticipation of being joined by the powerful reinforcement preparing
at home. Many brave enterprises were undertaken; the troops acted with a
noble spirit; vigorous efforts were made to distress the enemy, and he
was driven out of several strong posts, and a great extent of country;
but the soldiers were not sufficient to garrison the places which were
taken; and the white inhabitants, who were disaffected, plainly foresaw
that the very efforts, which were made in the cause, must soon work its
ruin: indeed, all that was effected served only to confirm the
improbability of subduing the entire colony, or annexing it, in an
useful condition, to the British possessions.
Toward the close of the year great preparations were made for attacking
the blacks, under the command of Dudonait, who occupied the hills above
Port au Prince, and had contrived to cut off the supply of water from
the town; but, from the numerous difficulties which occurred, the
assault was not made before the 28th of February 1796, when the brigands
were speedily defeated and dispersed by a spirited little army, under
the command of General Bowyer.
Owing to the repeated and fatal impediments occasioned by the
tempestuous weather at the end of the year 1795, and beginning of 1796,
the great body of troops, which had been assembled for service in the
West Indies, did not reach the colonies as was expected.
In March 1796, Sir Adam Williamson embarked for England, leaving the
chief command to General Forbes. In April, a reinforcement amounting to
between three and four thousand men arrived from Gibraltar. In June,
General Whyte, after returning from the expedition against the colonies
of Guiana, landed at St. Domingo, with four regiments, of the Cork
division of the great armament; and not long afterwards the fleet from
Cove came into harbour, with a further addition of five or six thousand
men: but instead of being in a state fit for active service in such a
climate, numbers of them were already enfeebled by sickness, and in a
short time the greater part became inmates of the hospitals, from whence
it was their sad lot to be soon carried to the grave. Still the honor of
the British flag was ably maintained: many vigorous efforts were made to
establish their possession, and the troops on all occasions displayed
the greatest bravery—but it was impossible to struggle against the fatal
devastations of disease. The fever now raged in every quarter of the
colony with accumulated and direful malignity. At Port au Prince, the
Mole, St. Marc, Mirebalais, and all the principal stations the weekly
returns exhibited frightful lists of casualties:—to very few remained
the strength required for military duty. From two hundred to six, or
even eight hundred men of each regiment were destroyed by this
relentless malady; and, of one regiment (the 96th), not an individual
escaped.
Notwithstanding the powerful reinforcements which arrived in the course
of this year, it appeared that, by the month of September, scarcely
three thousand effective men could be mustered, while the hospital
register announced a mortality approaching to thrice that number.
It was now discovered that the extreme waste of blood, and all our
fruitless efforts in this unhappy island, were attended, likewise, with
an alarming waste of property; and it was supposed that General Simcoe,
who was sent out with the appointment of chief governor, had received
instructions to inquire minutely into the state of expenditure, as well
as all other points concerning the British prospects and interests in
the colony.
General Simcoe arrived in the month of March, of the present year
(1797), and embarked again, for England, in July, when the command
devolved on General Whyte, who, like his gallant predecessors, has the
mortification of not being able to undertake any enterprise of magnitude
against the enemy, in consequence of the defective number of troops.
Viewing the many and great efforts which have been made, and the
multitudes of brave men who have perished, it is grievous to contemplate
the situation in which we now find ourselves—a situation not less
singular, than it is vexatious and distressing: the army, by a dreadful
mortality, is reduced to a skeleton, and we are left without the power
of engaging in offensive operations, while the rebel negroes are seen at
the very gates.
Adieu.
_Note_.—General Nesbit was appointed to succeed General Simcoe; but
having died on the passage, and General Whyte having returned to
England in April 1798, General Maitland was left in command.
The Government at length despairing of attaching the entire colony to
the British crown, sent out instructions, after the return of General
Simcoe, for drawing in the garrisons, and reducing the number of posts
occupied by the English troops, thus putting a stop to the dreadful
sacrifice of human life, and lessening the enormous expenditure, which
had been incurred in this hopeless, and too long continued attempt.
By a well-devised arrangement with Toussaint, General Maitland
withdrew the British forces on the 22d of April 1798, from Port au
Prince and St. Marc, and their dependencies, and retired to the Mole;
wishing, however, to possess the strong hold of the opposite point of
the bay, as affording a more complete protection to our trade, and to
the island of Jamaica, the General planned an expedition, and
proceeded from the Mole, in the month of June following, with a view
of retaking Tiburon; but, in consequence of adverse winds and raging
elements, he was unable to land his troops, and compelled to abandon
the enterprise.
Emboldened by this failure, and by the reduced state of our army, the
enemy, soon afterwards, made an attack upon the Mole, but they were
driven back, with very considerable loss. In a short time they
returned with a more formidable force; and were again repulsed with
great slaughter. Still, it was evident that the Mole was now insecure,
and, as there was no longer any hope of conquest, the General
prudently directed his thoughts to the preservation of the brave, but
feeble remains of his army.
By a judicious negotiation with Toussaint it was agreed that the
British should make an undisturbed evacuation of all the posts still
in their possession; and, after a sad waste of blood and treasure, the
island was wisely abandoned in October 1798; the troops being
withdrawn, from Jeremie and the Mole, to Jamaica.
So ended this lamentable enterprise, undertaken upon the deceitful
assurances of a few adventurers, who, by representing the colonists as
ready and desirous to surrender the settlement to British possession,
led the ministers and Sir Adam Williamson to engage in the conquest
with means infinitely inadequate. After five years of bloody and
afflicting warfare, and the sacrifice of perhaps twenty thousand brave
Englishmen, not one thousand veterans remained to experience the
humiliation of quitting the island.