Hayti; or, The black republic.

by Sir Spenser St. John

To this day the barbarous conduct of the Marquis of Caradeux is cited as a justification for the savage retaliation of the insurgent negroes. I think that the explanation of the different conduct of the Spanish and French slave-owner may be, that the former is indolent and satisfied with less, whilst the latter, in his fierce struggle to be rich, cared not how he became so, and worked his negroes beyond human endurance, and then, to keep down the inevitable discontent, sought to terrorise his slaves by barbarous punishments.

The true history of Hayti commences with the French Revolution, when, amid the flood of impracticable and practicable schemes, a few statesmen turned their generous thoughts towards the down-trodden African, and firing assembled France with their enthusiasm, passed laws and issued decrees granting freedom to the black; but before these had any practical effect, Hayti had to pass through scenes which have left blood-stains that nothing can wash away.

When reading the different accounts which have been written of the state of Hayti when France was upsetting the accumulated wrongs of ages, I have often desired to disbelieve them, and place to exaggerated feelings of sympathy the descriptions of the prejudices of the planters and the atrocities committed under their influence. But I have lived long in the West Indies, and know that there are many whites born in our colonies, who not only look upon the negro as of an inferior species—which he may be—but as fit only for servitude, and quite unworthy of freedom, and on an alliance with a coloured person as a disgrace which affects a whole family. They speak of a mulatto as they would of one affected with leprosy. If in these days such sentiments exist, we can readily believe that they existed even in a greater degree before, awakened to a feeling of justice, most European nations formally abolished slavery, and let the black and the coloured man have an equal chance in the struggle of life.

For some years before the meeting of the States-General, philanthropists who had inquired into the condition of the slave had had their compassion aroused, and to give direction to their efforts to ameliorate it, had founded in Paris a society called “The Friends of the Blacks.”

The summoning of the States-General in France created much enthusiasm throughout Hayti; the planters now reckoned that justice would be done, and that a share would be accorded them in the government of the colony; the lower class of whites had a vague idea that their position must be improved, and hailed the movement as the promise of better times—though in truth these two classes had little of which to complain; the former were rolling in wealth, and the latter were never in want of high-paid employment. Another class felt even greater interest—that of the free black and coloured men; they thought that no change could occur which would not better their condition, which was one of simple toleration; they might work and get rich, have their children educated in France, but they had no political rights, and the meanest white considered himself, and was treated, as their superior. The slaves, although discontented, were only formidable from their numbers.

Exaggerated expectations were naturally followed by disappointment. The planters, finding that the French Government had no intention of employing them to administer the colony, began to think of independence; whilst the lower whites, passionately attached to the dream of equality, thought that that should commence by an apportionment among them of the estates of the rich. A third party consisted of the Government employés, whose chiefs were Royalists under the leadership of Penier, the Governor-General, and Mauduit, colonel of the regiment of Port-au-Prince.

The Colonial party, or rather that of the planters, in order to increase their power, which had hitherto been disseminated in local assemblies, determined to have the law carried out which authorised a General Assembly. This was elected, and held its first meetings in St. Marc in March 1790. The leaders soon commenced to quarrel with the Government authorities, and dissensions rose to such a height that both parties began to arm; and on the Assembly decreeing the substitution of another Governor for Penier, he was roused to resistance, and in a brief struggle he forced the General Assembly to dissolve, a portion of the members seeking refuge on board of a ship of war, whose crew they had induced to mutiny and sail with them to France.

The white population thus set the example of internal strife, and in their struggle for mastery called in the aid of the freedmen, and then after victory insulted them. These, however, began gradually to understand the advantages they possessed in being able to support the climate, and the persecutions and cruelties of the French made them feel that those who would be free themselves must strike the blow.

Among the educated and intelligent mulattoes who had gone to France to urge on the National Assembly the rights of their colour was Ogé. He naturally thought that the time had arrived for justice to be done, when the President of the “Constituant” had declared that “aucune partie de la nation ne réclamera vainement ses droits auprès de l’assemblée des représentants du peuple français.” He visited the Club Massiac, where the planters held supreme sway, and endeavoured to enlist their sympathy, but he was coldly received. He then determined to return to Hayti to support the rights of his caste, which, though ambiguously, had been recognised by the legislature; but unexpected obstacles were thrown in his way by the Colonial party, and an order to arrest him was issued should he venture to embark for his native land. By passing through England and the United States he eluded these precautions, and landed privately at Cap Haïtien. When the news of his arrival on his property at Dondon reached the authorities, they endeavoured to capture him; then he, with a few hundreds of his colour, rose in arms, but after a few skirmishes they dispersed, and Ogé was forced to seek refuge in the Spanish settlement of Santo Domingo. There he was arrested, and, on the demand of the Governor of the French colony, handed over to his enemies. He was tried as a rebel and broken on the wheel, together with three companions; others were hung, the rest sent to the galleys.

Ogé’s armed resistance had encouraged the men of colour in the south to demand their rights; but they were easily dispersed, and their chief, Rigaud, taken prisoner. These isolated and irresolute outbreaks rendered the division between the coloured and the white population more marked than ever; the latter despised the former for their wretched resistance, while the coloured men were indignant at the cruel and unsparing executions which marked the close of Ogé’s career.