CHAPTER XV. TOUSSAINT A PRISONER IN FRANCE.
While the cause of independence, forced at length on the aspirations of the natives of Hayti, was advancing with rapid strides, amid all the tumult of armies, and all the confusion of despotic cruelties, Toussaint L’Ouverture pined away in the dark, damp, cold prison of Joux.
This castle stands on the brink of the river Daubs; on the land side, the road of Besancon, leading into Switzerland, gives the stronghold the command of the communications between that country and France. This dungeon built by the Romans, has in it a room fifteen feet square, with a stone floor, the same of which the entire castle is constructed. One small window, high up on the side, looking out on the snows of Switzerland, is the only aperture that gives light to the dismal spot. In winter, ice covers the floor; in summer, it is deep with water. In this living tomb, Toussaint was placed, and left to die.
All communication was forbidden him with the outer world. He received no news of his wife and family. He wrote to Bonaparte, demanding a trial, but received no reply. His fare was limited to a sum not sufficient to give him the comforts of life. His servant was taken away, and food reduced to a still smaller quantity; and thus the once ruler of St. Domingo, the man to whom in the darkest day of the insurrection the white planters looked for safety, knowing well his humanity, was little by little brought to the verge of starvation.
Toussaint’s wife and children had been arrested, sent to France, separated from him, and he knew nothing of their whereabouts. He wrote to Napoleon in behalf of them. The document contained these words:
“General Le Clerc employed towards me means which have never been employed towards the greatest enemies. Doubtless I owe that contempt to my color; but has that color prevented me from serving my country with zeal and fidelity? Does the color of my body injure my honor or my courage? Suppose I was a criminal, and that the general-in-chief had orders to arrest me; was it needful to employ carabineers to arrest my wife and children; to tear them from their residence without respect, and without charity? Was it necessary to fire on my plantations, and on my family, or to ransack and pillage my property? No! My wife, my children, my household, were under no responsibility; have no account to render to government. General Le Clerc had not even the right to arrest them. Was that officer afraid of a rival?
“I compare him to the Roman Senate, that pursued Hannibal even into his retirement. I request that he and I may appear before a tribunal, and that the government bring forward the whole of my correspondence with him. By that means, my innocence, and all I have done for the republic, will be seen.”
Toussaint was not even aware of Le Clerc’s death. Finding that the humanity of Colomier, the governor of the castle, would not allow the prisoner to starve fast enough, Napoleon ordered the keeper to a distance; and on his return, Toussaint was dead.
Thus in the beginning of April, in the year 1803, died Toussaint L’Ouverture, a grandson of an African king. He passed the greater number of his days in slavery, and rose to be a soldier, a general, a governor, and to-day lives in the hearts of the people of his native isle. Endowed by nature with high qualities of mind, he owed his elevation to his own energies and his devotion to the welfare and freedom of his race. His habits were thoughtful, and, like most men of energetic temperaments, he crowded much into what he said.
So profound and original were his opinions, that they have been successively drawn upon by all the chiefs of St. Domingo since his era, and still without loss of adaptation to the circumstances of the country. His thoughts were copious and full of vigor; and what he could express well in his native patois, he found tame and unsatisfactory in the French language, which he was obliged to employ in the details of his official business.
He would never sign what he did not fully understand, obliging two or three secretaries to re-word the document, until they had succeeded in furnishing the particular phrase expressive of his meaning. While at the height of his power, and when all around him were furnished with every comfort, and his officers living in splendor, Toussaint himself lived with an austere sobriety, which bordered on abstemiousness.
Clad in a common dress, with a red Madras handkerchief tied around his head, he would move amongst the people as though he were a laborer. On such occasions he would often take a musket, throw it up into the air, and catching it, kiss it; again hold it up, and exclaim to the gazing multitude, “Behold your deliverer; in this lies your liberty!” Toussaint was entirely master of his own appetites and passions.
It was his custom to set off in his carriage with the professed object of going to some particular point of the Island, and when he had passed over several miles of the journey, to quit the carriage, which continued its route under the same escort of guards, while Toussaint mounted on horseback, and followed by his officers, made rapid excursions across the country to places where he was least expected. It was upon one of these occasions that he owed his life to his singular mode of travelling. He had just left his carriage when an ambuscade of mulattoes, concealed in the thickets of Boucassin, fired upon the guard; several balls pierced the carriage, and one of them killed an old servant, who occupied the seat of his master.
No person knew better than he the art of governing the people under his jurisdiction. The greater part of the blacks loved him to idolatry. Veneration for Toussaint was not confined to the boundaries of St. Domingo; it ran through Europe; and in France his name was frequently pronounced in the senate with the eulogy of polished eloquence. No one can look back upon his career without feeling that Toussaint was a remarkable man. Without being bred to the science of arms, he became a valiant soldier, and baffled the skill of the most experienced generals that had followed Napoleon. Without military knowledge, he fought like one born in the camp.
Without means, he carried on a war successfully. He beat his enemies in battle, and turned their weapons against them. He possessed splendid traits of genius, which were developed in the private circle, in the council chamber, and upon the field of battle. His very name became a tower of strength to his friends and a terror to his foes.