The Hour and the Man, An Historical Romance

by Harriet Martineau

  CHAPTER NINE.

  THE MAN.

  The town of Cap Francais was next morning in a hurry, which attractedthe attention of General Laveaux in his prison, and the Frenchcommissary, Polverel, on board the vessel in the roads, in which he hadtaken refuge from the mulattoes, and where he held himself in readinessto set sail for France, in case of any grave disaster befalling theGeneral or the troops. From his cell, Laveaux heard in the streets thetramp of horses and of human feet; and from the deck of the _Orphee_,Polverel watched through his glass the bustle on the wharves, and theputting off of more than one boat, which prepared him to receive news.

  The news came. The report was universal in the town that ToussaintBreda had gone over from the allies to the side of republican France;and that this step had been followed by a large defection from theallied forces. Messengers had arrived, one after another, withdispatches which had been intercepted by the mulattoes. These whobrought them, however, had given out that some posts had beensurrendered, without a summons, into the hands of the French. This wascertainly the case with Marmalade and Plaisance; and others wereconfidently spoken of.

  "Offered to our hands just when our hands are tied, and we cannot takethem!" said Polverel. "If our fresh regiments would only arrive to-day,and help us to wrench the prison keys from the hands of those devils ofmulattoes, and let out Laveaux, the colony would be ours before night."

  As he spoke, he swept the horizon to the north and east with his glass;but no welcome sail was visible.

  "Now look the other way," said the commander of the vessel; "if there isno help at sea, try if there be none on land. I have been watching thatmountain-side for some time; and, if I am not much mistaken, there is anarmy of dusky fellows there."

  "Dusky! mulattoes! then we are lost!" cried Polverel. "If the mulattoesfrom the south have come up in any numbers--"

  "They are black as the night that is just gone," said the commander,still keeping his eye fixed on the western heights above the town."See, the sun strikes them now. They are blacks. The negroes underToussaint himself, very probably. I shall not have the pleasure ofcarrying you to France just yet, Monsieur Polverel."

  Notwithstanding the display of black forces on the Haut-du-Cap, thebustle of the town seemed to be in the opposite direction. A few shotswere fired in the south-east quarter, and some smoke arose from thence.This was soon explained by the news that Henri Christophe had approachedthe town from the plain, with four or five thousand men, and was forcingan entrance that way. There was little conflict. Toussaint poured downhis force through the barracks, where the French soldiers gave him ahearty welcome, and along the avenues of Government-House, and theneighbouring public offices, in which quarter the mulattoes had littleinterest. Within an hour, the mulattoes had all slunk back into theirhomes, telling their families that they could have dealt with the Frenchalone, but that they could not withstand an army of twenty thousand men(only doubling the real number), which had dropped from the clouds, foraught they knew. The few dead bodies were removed, the sand sucked uptheir blood, and the morning wind blew dust over its traces. A boat wassent off, in due form, to bring Commissary Polverel home toGovernment-House. Toussaint himself went to the prison to bring outGeneral Laveaux, with every demonstration of respect; and all presentlywore the aspect of a jour-de-fete.

  Hour by hour tidings were spread which increased the joy of the French,and the humiliation of their foes. The intercepted dispatches weregiven up, and more arrived with the news of the successive defectionfrom the allies of all the important posts in the colony, held by negroforces. In the name of Toussaint Breda, the garrisons of Marmalade andPlaisance first declared for republican France; and after them, GrosMorne, Henneri, and Le Dondon.

  The news of the acquisition of these last arrived in the evening, whenthe French officials were entertaining the negro chief in the salon ofGovernment-House. It was late: the house was brilliantly lighted; andits illuminations were reflected from a multitude of faces without.Late as it was, and great as had been the fatigues of the negro troops,they were not yet weary of hearing the praises of their own Toussaint.Adding their numbers to those of the white inhabitants of Cap, theythronged the court of Government-House and the Jesuits' Walk; and evenin the Place d'Archer and the Rue Espagnole, passengers found itdifficult to make their way. The assemblage could scarcely have toldwhat detained them there, unless it were the vague expectation of morenews, the repetition of the praises they loved to hear, and, perhaps,some hope of getting one more glimpse of Toussaint on this night of histriumph. From mouth to mouth circulated the words which General Laveauxhad spoken in the morning, when released from his prison--"This man isthe saviour of the whites--the avenger of the authorities. He is surelythe black, the Spartacus predicted by Raynal, whose destiny it should beto avenge the wrongs of his race." From mouth to month went thesewords; and from heart to heart spread the glow they kindled.

  Toussaint himself had heard these words; and in his heart also were theyglowing. As he sat at table, refreshing himself with fruits, but(according to his invariable custom) refusing wine, he was reminded byall that passed that his career was not ended. He wore the uniform ofbrigadier-general--a token that he had not lost rank. Monsieur Polverelhad declared his intention of soon returning to France; and GeneralLaveaux had said that when he was thus left in charge of the colony, heshould entreat General Toussaint, who best understood its affairs, tofill the office of lieutenant-governor, and should also be guided inmilitary affairs implicitly by his counsels. Toussaint heard, and feltthat, in truth, his career was not ended. He was requested to name aday when he would take the oaths publicly, and receive the homage of thegrateful colony; and in his reply he took occasion to declare withearnestness that his present course of action originated altogether inthe decree of the Convention in favour of the negroes; and that theresources of his power and influence should all be directed towardsraising his race to that intellectual and moral equality with thewhites, without which they could neither enjoy nor retain the politicalequality which the Convention had decreed. In the midst of the stronglyexpressed sympathy of his hosts, who were this day disposed to approveand admire all he said and did--while they were uttering hopes for hisown people which touched his soul, the final news of this great day wasbrought in, contained in dispatches which told of the acquisition of theposts of Limbe and l'Aeul--the two bars to the north-western peninsulaof the colony. The commanders declared their adhesion to the cause ofthe blacks and Toussaint Breda.

  "Bravo!" cried the French general: "that obstinate region is ours! Wewill march through those posts to hold our festival, and the oaths shallbe taken at Port Paix. Was not that district considered the mostobstinate, general?"

  Toussaint did not answer. He did not hear. The mention of Port Paixcarried back his thoughts to the night when he was last there, heavy atheart, assisting his master to escape.

  "All is ours, now, through him," said Monsieur Polverel, gazing at hisguest, "Yes," rejoined Laveaux; "he is the Napoleon Bonaparte of SaintDomingo."

  "Who is he?--who is Napoleon Bonaparte?" asked Toussaint, roused tolisten. "I have heard his name. What has he done?"

  "He is a young French artillery officer--"

  "A Corsican by birth," interposed Polverel.

  "Is he really? I was not aware of that," said Laveaux. "Thatcircumstance somewhat increases the resemblance of the cases. He wasill-used (or thought he was) by his officers, and was on the point ofjoining the Turkish service, when he was employed in the defence of theConvention, the other day. He saved the Convention--he saved Paris--andhe is about to put off his uniform of brigadier-general" (and Laveauxsmiled and bowed as he spoke)--"like yourself, he is about to put offhis uniform of brigadier-general for that of a higher rank. His namewas known before in connection with the siege of Toulon. But this lastachievement is the grand one. He has cleaved the path of theConvention. Polverel, did I not say rightly that General Toussaint isthe Napoleon Bonapar
te of Saint Domingo?"

  "Yes. General Toussaint also is making for us an opening everywhere."

  Toussaint heard the words, but they made a faint impression at themoment of his imagination being fixed on the young artillery officer.There were those present, however, who lost nothing of what was spoken,and who conveyed it all to the eager ears outside. The blackattendants, the gazers and listeners who went in and out, intoxicatedwith the glory of the negro general, reported all that was said of him.These last few words of Polverel wrought wonderfully, and were instantlyspread through the excited multitude. A shout was presently heard,which must have sounded far up the mountains and over the bay; andPolverel started with surprise when his word came back to him in aresponse like that of an assembled nation. "L'ouverture!""L'ouverture!" cried the multitude, fully comprehending what the wordcontained in its application to their chief, "Toussaint L'Ouverture!"Henceforth, the city, the colony, the island, and, after a time, allEurope, rang with the name of Toussaint L'Ouverture.

  When Toussaint heard the cry from without, he started to his feet; andhis hosts rose also, on seeing the fire in his eye--brighter than duringthe deeds of the morning.

  "The general would address them," said Polverel. "You wish to speak tothe people, General Toussaint."

  "No," said Toussaint.

  "What then?" inquired Laveaux.

  "I would be alone," said Toussaint, stepping backwards from the table.

  "Your fatigues have doubtless been great," observed Laveaux. "Lightsshall be ordered in your apartment."

  "I cannot sleep yet," said Toussaint. "I cannot sleep till I have newsfrom Breda. But I have need of thought, gentlemen; there is moonlightand quiet in these gardens. Permit me to leave you now."

  He paced the shrubberies, cool with moonlight and with dews; and hisagitation subsided when all eyes but those of Heaven were withdrawn.Here no flatteries met his ear--no gestures of admiration made him drophis eyes, abashed. Constrained as he yet felt himself in equalintercourse with whites, new to his recognised freedom, unassured in hisacts, uncertain of the future, and (as he believed) unprepared for sucha future as was now unfolding, there was something inexpressibly irksomeand humbling in the homage of the whites--of men who understood nothingof him, and little of his race, and who could have none but politicalpurposes in their intercourse with him. He needed this evening thesincerities as well as the soothings of nature; and it was with a senseof relief that he cast himself once again upon her bosom, to beinstructed, with infantine belief, how small an atom he was in theuniverse of God--how low a rank he held in the hierarchy of theministers of the Highest.

  "Yet I _am_ one," thought he, as the shout of his name and now titlereached his ear, distinct, though softened by distance. "I am anappointed minister. It seems as if I were the one of whom I myself havespoken as likely to arise--not, as Laveaux says, after Raynal, toavenge, but to repair the wrongs of my colour. Low, indeed, are wesunk, deep is our ignorance, abject are our wills, if such a one as I amto be the leader of thousands--I, whose will is yet unexercised--I, whoshrink ashamed before the knowledge of the meanest white--I, so lately aslave--so long dependent that I am an oppression to myself--am at thishour the ruler over ten thousand wills! The ways of God are dark, or itmight seem that He despised His negro children in committing so many ofthem to so poor a guide. But He despises nothing that He has made. Itmay be that we are too weak and ignorant to be fit for better guidancein our new state of rights and duties. It may be that a series ofteachers is appointed to my colour, of whom I am to be the first, onlybecause I am the lowest; destined to give way to wiser guides when Ihave taught all that I know, and done all that I can. May it be so! Iwill devote myself wholly; and when I have done may I be more willing tohide myself in my cottage, or lie down in my grave, than I have beenthis day to accept the new lot which I dare not refuse!--Deal gentlywith me, O God! and, however I fail, let me not see my children's heartshardened, as hearts are hardened, by power! Let me not see in theirfaces the look of authority, nor hear in their voices the tones ofpride! Be with my people, O Christ! The weaker I am, the more be Thouwith them, that Thy gospel may be at last received! The hearts of mypeople are soft--they are gentle, they are weak:--let Thy gospel makethem pure--let it make them free. Thy gospel--who has not heard of it,and who has seen it? May it be found in the hearts of my people, thedespised! and who shall then despise them again? The past is all guiltand groans. Into the future open a better way--"

  "Toussaint L'Ouverture!" he heard again from afar, and bowed his head,overpowered with hope.

  "Toussaint L'Ouverture!" repeated some light gay voices close at hand.His boys were come, choosing to bring themselves the news from Breda--that Margot and her daughters, and old Dessalines and Moyse were allthere, safe and happy, except for their dismay at finding the cottageand field in such a state of desolation.

  "They will not mind when they hear that they are to live in a mansionhenceforward," said Placide. "Jean Francais had better have stood byhis colour, as we do."

  "And how have you stood by your colour, my young hero?"

  "I told Jean in the camp to-day--"

  "Jean! In the camp! How came you there?"

  "We were so near, that I galloped in to see what they thought of yourleaving, and who had followed you."

  "Then I thank God that you are here."

  "Jean caught me; but the General bade him let me go, and asked whetherthe blacks made war upon children. I told him that I was not a child;and I told Jean that you had rather live in a cave for the sake of theblacks, than go off to the court of Spain--"

  "What made you fancy I should go there?"

  "Not you, but Jean. Jean is going, he says, because he is a noble.There will soon be peace between France and Spain, he says; and then heshall be a noble at the court of Spain. I am glad he is going."

  "So am I, if he thinks he shall be happy there."

  "We shall be better without him," said Isaac. "He would never be quietwhile you were made Lieutenant-Governor of Saint Domingo. Now you willbe alone and unmolested in your power. Where did you learn all this?"

  "Every one knows it--every one in Cap. Every one knows that Jean hasdone with us, and that the Commissary is going home, and that GeneralLaveaux means to be guided in everything by you; and that the posts haveall surrendered in your name; and that at Port Paix--"

  "Enough, enough! my boys. Too much, for I see that your hearts areproud."

  "The Commissary and the General said that you are supreme--the idol ofyour colour. Those were their words."

  "And in this there is yet no glory. I have yet done nothing, but bywhat is called accident. Our own people were ready--by no preparationof mine; the mulattoes were weak and taken by surprise, throughcircumstances not of my ordering. Glory there may hereafter bebelonging to our name, my boys; but as yet there is none. I have power:but power is less often glory than disgrace."

  "Oh, father! do but listen. Hark again! `Toussaint L'Ouverture!'"

  "I will strive to make that shout a prophecy, my sons. Till then, nopride! Are you not weary? Come in to rest. Can you sleep in my finechamber here as well as at Breda?"

  "Anywhere," said Isaac, sleepily.

  Toussaint gave up his apartment to his sons, and went forth once more tosurvey the town, and see that his troops were in their quarters. Thisdone, he repaired to his friend Henri, willing for one more night toforego his greatness; and there, in his friend's small barrack-room, thesupreme in the colony--the idol of his colour--slept, as he had hopedfor his boys, as tranquilly as if he had been at Breda.