The Freedmen's Book

by Lydia Maria Child

Though he paid so much attention to external show in public, his own personal habits were extremely simple and frugal. There was a large public house at the Cape, called The Hotel of the Republic, frequented by whites and blacks, officers and privates. Toussaint l'Ouverture often took a seat at the table in any chair that happened to be vacant. If any one rose to offer him a higher seat, he would bow courteously, and reply, "Distinctions are to be observed only on public occasions." His food consisted of vegetable preparations, and he drank water only. He had a wonderful capacity of doing without sleep. During the years that so many public cares devolved upon him, it is said he rarely slept more than two hours out of the twenty-four. He thought more than he spoke, and what he said was uttered in few words. Surrounded as he was by inquisitive and treacherous people, this habit of reserve was of great use to him. Enemies accused him of being deceitful. The charge was probably grounded on the fact that he knew how to keep his own secrets; for there are many proofs that he was in reality honest and sincere. It is singular how he escaped the contagion of impurity which always pollutes society where Slavery exists. But his respect and affection for his wife was very constant, and he was always clean in his manners and his language. A colored lady appeared at one of his reception-parties dressed very low at the neck, according to the prevailing Parisian fashion. When he had greeted her, he placed a handkerchief on her shoulders, and said in a low voice, "Modesty is the greatest ornament of woman."

His ability and energy as a statesman were even more remarkable than his courage and skill as a military leader. He was getting old, and he was covered with the scars of wounds received in many battles; but he travelled about with wonderful rapidity, inspecting everything with his own eyes, and personally examining into the conduct of magistrates and officers. Often, after riding some distance in a carriage, he would mount a swift horse and ride off in another direction, while the coach went on. In this way, he would make his appearance suddenly at places where he was not expected, and ascertain how things went on in his absence. It was a common practice with him to traverse from one hundred to one hundred and fifty miles a day. After giving his evening audience to the people, he sat up late into the night answering letters, of which he received not less than a hundred daily. He dictated to five secretaries at once, so long that he tired them all; and he examined every letter when finished, that he might be sure his dictation had not been misunderstood.

The eastern part of the island had been ceded to the French by treaty, but had never been given up by the Spanish, who still held slaves there. Complaints were brought to General Toussaint that the Spaniards kidnapped both blacks and mulattoes from the western part of the island, where all were free, and carried them off to sell them to slave-traders. Resolved to destroy Slavery, root and branch, throughout the island, in January, 1801, he marched into the Spanish territory at the head of ten thousand soldiers. The Spanish blacks were desirous to come under French dominion, in order to secure their freedom, and the whites offered but slight resistance. Having taken possession of the territory in the name of the French republic, he issued a proclamation, in which he declared that all past offences should be forgotten, and that the welfare and happiness of Spaniards and Frenchmen should be equally protected. He then assembled his troops in the churches and caused prayers of thanksgiving to be offered for the success of their enterprise, almost without bloodshed. Most of the wealthy Spanish slaveholders made arrangements to depart to Cuba and other neighboring islands. But the main body of the people received General Toussaint with the greatest distinction. As he passed through the principal towns, he was everywhere greeted with thunder of artillery, ringing of bells, and loud acclamations of the populace.

Under his wise and watchful administration all classes were protected, and all parts of the country became prosperous. The desolations occasioned by so many years of warfare were rapidly repaired. Churches were rebuilt, schools established, waste lands brought under cultivation, and distances shortened by new and excellent roads. The French commissioner Roume was struck with admiration of his plans, and pronounced him to be "a philosopher, a legislator, a general, and a good citizen." The Frenchman, Lavoque, who was well acquainted with him and the condition of the people, said to Bonaparte, "Sire, let things remain as they are in St. Domingo. It is the happiest spot in your dominions." The historian Lacroix, though prejudiced against blacks, wrote, "That the island was preserved to the French government was solely owing to an old negro, who seemed to bear a commission from Heaven." Strangers who visited St. Domingo expressed their surprise to see cities rising from their ashes, fields waving with harvests, and the harbors filled with ships. Planters, who had fled with their families to various parts of the world heard such good accounts of the activity of business, and the security of property, that many of them so far overcame their repugnance to be governed by a negro as to ask permission to return. This was easily obtained, and they were received by the Governor without anything on his part which they might deem offensive familiarity, but with a dignified courtesy which prevented familiarity, or airs of condescension, on their side. He had annually sent some token of remembrance to M. Bayou de Libertas, then residing in the United States. He now wrote to invite him to return to St. Domingo. The invitation was gladly accepted. When he arrived, he was received with marked kindness, but with dignified reserve. Governor Toussaint evidently did not wish bystanders to be reminded of the former relation that existed between them as overseer and slave. "Return to the plantation," said he, "and take care of the interests of the good old master. See that the blacks do their duty. Be firm, but just. You will thus advance your own prosperity, and at the same time increase the prosperity of the colony."

This return of the old slaveholders excited some uneasiness among the black laborers. But Toussaint, who often spoke to them in simple parables, sprinkled a few grains of rice into a vessel of shot, and shook it. "See," said he, "how few grains of white there are among the black."

At that time General Napoleon Bonaparte had become very famous by his victories, and had recently been made ruler of France. There were many points of resemblance between his career and that of the hero of St. Domingo; and it was a common thing for people to say, "Napoleon is the First of the Whites, and Toussaint l'Ouverture is the First of the Blacks." If General Toussaint had known the real character of Napoleon, he would not have felt flattered by being compared with such a selfish, tyrannical, and treacherous man. But, like the rest of the world, he was dazzled by his brilliant reputation, and felt that it was a great honor to him to be called the "The Black Napoleon." The vainest thing that is recorded of him is that on one of his official letters to Bonaparte he wrote, "To the First of the Whites, from the First of the Blacks." It was a departure from his usual habits of dignity, and was also poor policy; for Bonaparte had been rendered vain by his great success, and he was under the influence of aristocratic planters from St. Domingo, who would have regarded it as a great insult to couple their names with a negro. General Toussaint soon had reason to suspect he had been mistaken in the character of the famous man, whom he had so much admired. He wrote several deferential letters to Bonaparte, on official business; but the First Consul never condescended to make any reply. It was soon rumored abroad that proprietors of estates in St. Domingo, residing in France, were urging him to send an army to St. Domingo to reduce the blacks again to Slavery. Governor Toussaint could not believe that the French government would be persuaded to break the solemn promises it had made to the colony. But when he sent General Vincent to Paris to obtain Bonaparte's sanction to the new constitution, the wicked scheme was found to be making rapid progress. In vain General Vincent remonstrated against it as a measure cruel and dangerous. In vain he represented the contented, happy, and prosperous state of the island. In vain did many wise and good men in Paris urge that such a step would be unjust in itself and very disgraceful to France. The First Consul turned a deaf ear to all but the haughty old planters from St. Domingo. The Legislative Assembly in France, though still talking loudly about liberty and the rights of man, were not ashamed to propose the restoration of Slavery and the slave-trade in the colonies; and the wicked measure was carried by a vote of two hundred and twelve against sixty-five. In May, 1801, Bonaparte issued a decree to that effect. But he afterwards considered it prudent to announce that the islands of St. Domingo and Guadaloupe were to be excepted.

When this news reached St. Domingo, the people were excited and alarmed. They asked each other anxiously, "How long shall we be excepted?" On that point no assurances were given, and all suspected that the French government was dealing with them hypocritically and treacherously. The soul of Toussaint was on fire. If the names of the men who voted for the restoration of Slavery were mentioned in his presence, his eyes flashed and his whole frame shook with indignation. He published a proclamation, in which he counselled obedience to the mother country, unless circumstances should make it evident that resistance was unavoidable. In private, he said to his friends: "I took up arms for the freedom of my color. France proclaimed it, and she has no right to nullify it. Our liberty is no longer in her hands; it is in our own. We will defend it, or perish."

General Toussaint had sent his two eldest sons to Paris to be educated. As a part of the plan of deception, General Bonaparte invited the young men to visit him. He spoke of their father as a great man, who had rendered very important services to France. He told them he was going to send his brother-in-law, General Le Clerc, with troops to St. Domingo; but he assured them it was not for any hostile purpose; it was merely to add to the defence of the island. He wished them to go with General Le Clerc and tell their father that he intended him all protection, glory, and honor. The next day Bonaparte's Minister of Marine invited the young men to a sumptuous dinner, and at parting presented each with a splendid military uniform. The inexperienced youths were completely dazzled and deceived.

In January, 1802, General Le Clerc sailed with sixty ships and thirty thousand of Bonaparte's experienced troops. When Governor Toussaint received tidings that a French fleet was in sight, he galloped to the coast they were approaching, to take a view of them. He was dismayed, and for a moment discouraged. He exclaimed, "All France has come to enslave St. Domingo. We must perish." He had no vessels, and not more than sixteen thousand men under arms. But his native energy soon returned. The people manifested a determination to die rather than be enslaved again. He resolved to attempt no attack on the French, but to act wholly on the defensive. Le Clerc's army attacked Fort Liberty, killed half the garrison, and forced a landing on the island. Toussaint entrenched himself in a position where he could harass the invaders; and the peaceful, prosperous island again smoked with fire and blood. Le Clerc, still aiming to accomplish Bonaparte's designs by hypocrisy, scattered proclamations among the blacks of St. Domingo, representing that Toussaint kept them in a kind of Slavery on the plantations, but that the French had come to set them wholly free. This did not excite the rebellion which he intended to provoke, but it sowed the seeds of doubt and discontent in the minds of some. At the same time that he was playing this treacherous game, he sent Toussaint's two sons to their father, accompanied by their French tutor, to deliver a letter from the First Consul, which ought to have been sent three months before. The letter was very complimentary to General Toussaint; but it objected to the constitution that had been formed, and spoke in a very general way about the liberty which France granted to all nations under her control. It counselled submission to General Le Clerc, and threatened punishment for disobedience. The tone of the letter, though apparently peaceful and friendly, excited distrust in the mind of General Toussaint, which was increased by the fact that the letter had been so long kept from him. Knowing the strength of his domestic affections, orders had been given that if he surrendered, his sons should remain with him, but if he refused they were to return to the French camp as hostages. Though his heart yearned toward his children, from whom he had been so long separated, he said to their tutor: "Three months after date you bring me a letter which promises peace, while the action of General Le Clerc is war. I had established order and justice here; now all is confusion and misery. Take back my sons. I cannot receive them as the price of my surrender. Tell General Le Clerc hostilities will cease on our part when he stops the progress of his invading army." His sons told him how kindly they had been treated by Bonaparte, and what promises he had made concerning St. Domingo,—promises which had been repeated in the proclamation brought by General Le Clerc. Toussaint had had too severe an experience to be easily deceived by fair words. He replied: "My sons, you are no longer children. You are old enough to decide for yourselves. If you wish to be on the side of France, you are free to do so. Stay with me, or return to General Le Clerc, whichever you choose. Either way, I shall love you always." Isaac, his oldest son, had been so deceived by flattery and promises, that he declared his wish to return to the French camp, feeling very sure that his father would be convinced that Bonaparte was their best friend. But Placide, his step-son, said: "My father, I will remain with you. I dread the restoration of Slavery, and I am fearful about the future of St. Domingo." Who can tell what a pang went through the father's heart when he embraced Isaac and bade him farewell?