We had not been many days at sea, when a violent hurricane having dismasted the vessel, drove us under the walls of Cape François. Thus unfortunately commenced the opportunities of obtaining that information and forming that judgment of the Present State of St. Domingo, which I am about to submit to the public. Had I conceived it possible, at that time, that a relation of facts respecting that unhappy country would have become so interesting to my friends, I might from these opportunities have collected much respecting it, and been enabled to communicate what I collected in a better form.
Thus situated, the Brigand boats soon came out to meet us; and it was recommended to me, as the only means to prevent the confiscation of the vessel, and avoid becoming myself a prisoner of war, to pass for an American.
We were permitted to land at the once famous city of the Cape; and the first object that excited our attention amidst thousands of People of Colour of every description, was the respectable Toussaint in familiar conversation with two private Brigands. He very civilly came up to us—enquired the news—from whence we came? and our destination. I accommodated my answers to the occasion, and to the character I was to support, and complained of severe treatment from the English! to which he replied, “Je pense que les Anglois y sont bien malade à la Mole”—he believed the English were very sick at the Mole—and we took our leave.
I then retired to the American hotel, and was introduced to the table d’ hote—to behold for the first time a perfect system of equality!
Here were officers and privates, the general and the fifer, at the same table indiscriminately. I had the honour of sitting near a fat drummer, who very freely helped himself from my dish, and addressed me with frequent repetitions of “A votre Santé bon Americain.” Here also Toussaint dined, but did not take the head of the table, from the idea (I was informed) that no man should be invested with superiority but in the field. In the evening I went to the billiard table, where Toussaint also came. Much hilarity prevailed, and his affability highly increased the satisfaction of the company. I played with him, and found nothing to dissipate the pleasure which the novelty of the scene inspired. There were several tables in the same room, at which all played with the same familiarity with which they dined.
I was here informed that a review was to take place on the following day, in the plain of the Cape; and desirous of being present at such a spectacle, I was accompanied by some Americans, and others of my own country who resided in the island under that appellation.
In traversing this once superb town, what a scene of desolation every where presented itself to my contemplation! On the site where elegance and luxury had united all their powers to delight the voluptuary, remained nothing but ruins. On these were erected temporary houses for the American merchants and little shops of the natives, which but exhibited the devastation with additional horror. The great street still contained the walls of many superb edifices of five and six stories high, and most beautiful structure; highly-finished gilt balustrades, in some instances, yet remained. Nor was this all—in different parts of the general ruin the skeletons of their possessors were mingled with the broken walls—
“There in the ruin, heedless of the dead,
“The shelter-seeking peasant rears his shed;
“And, wondering man could want the larger pile,