There are among the mulattoes men eminently agreeable, and perhaps the one who best pleased me was Auguste Elie, at one time Minister for Foreign Affairs. He had been brought up in France, was highly educated, and had an astonishing memory. My Spanish colleague and myself used to visit him almost every evening, and pass a pleasant hour in varied conversation. One day my friend remarked, “I am often surprised at the knowledge shown by Auguste Elie, and the elegance of the language in which it is expressed.” I replied, “This evening turn the conversation on agriculture in the South of France.” He did so, and he was again struck by the minute knowledge shown and the manner in which it was conveyed. On our return home, I opened the last number of “La Revue des Deux Mondes,” and showed him paragraph after paragraph which Auguste Elie had repeated almost word for word. I knew that he read the review regularly, and was persuaded he had not missed reading the article on the agriculture of that part of France which interested him most, and his memory was so exact that he had forgotten nothing. I had often remarked his quotations, but he could digest what he read as well as remember. A few men like Auguste Elie would have given a better tone to Haytian society.
A strong desire to appear what they are not is a defect from which the best-known Haytians are not free. A French colleague once called upon a Secretary of State, whose writings have been compared to those of Plato, and found him, book in hand, walking up and down his verandah. “Ah! my friend, you see how I employ my leisure hours. I am reading Demosthenes in the original.” But the sharp Frenchman kept his eye on the volume, and soon found that it was an interlinear translation.
Every Haytian appears fully persuaded that his countrymen never seek office except for the purpose of improving their private fortunes, and the most precise stories of official robbery were falsely made against Auguste Elie and M. Bauce, both Secretaries of State. At Auguste Elie’s death there was little left for the family, and Madame Bauce declined the succession to her husband’s effects, as the debts were not covered by the inheritance. Liaulaud Ethéart and M. Darius Denis, though long Secretaries of State, afterwards honourably supported their families, the one in retail trade, the other by keeping a school.
Perhaps, as a rule, the accusation is well founded, and nearly all, black and coloured, believe in the saying, “Prendre l’argent de l’état, ce n’est pas volé.”
When I first arrived in Port-au-Prince a small club was formed among the foreigners, and one of the first rules was, “No Haytian to be admitted.” I asked why, and was answered, that they introduced politics into every place they entered. I soon found, however, that the real reason was that their society was disliked; and one day, after listening for an hour or two to the criticism on the people—and be it remembered that half those present were married to Haytian ladies—I could not help remarking, “If I had such an opinion of this race, I would not have sought my wife among them.” The married men looked foolish, the bachelors laughed, and one of the former observed, “The women are so superior to the men.”
The following story shows some delicacy of feeling; it is told by Mackenzie, and I have heard it repeated. When the decree was issued by Dessalines that mulatto children should inherit the estates of their white fathers, two young men met, and one said to the other, “You kill my father and I will kill yours;” which they accordingly did, and took possession of their estates. On another occasion, the Emperor Dessalines said to a young man who claimed to be a mulatto, “I don’t believe it, but you can prove it by going and poniarding your French friend.” The man did not hesitate, and was accepted as a Haytian citizen. A negro general, grandfather of a lady I knew in Hayti, went to Dessalines after the appearance of the decree to murder all the white French left in the island and said, “Emperor, I have obeyed your decree: I have put my white wife to death.” “Excellent Haytian,” answered he, “but an infernal scoundrel. If ever again you present yourself before me I will have you shot,”—the only saying of his that I have seen recorded showing any humane feeling.
CHAPTER V.
VAUDOUX WORSHIP AND CANNIBALISM.
When the news reached Paris of the massacres in Port-au-Prince of the mulattoes by orders of the black President Soulouque in April 1849, it is said that Louis Napoleon took the opportunity of saying at a public reception, in presence of the sable representative of Hayti, “Haïti, Haïti! pays de barbares.” Had he known all the particulars relating to Vaudoux worship and cannibalism, he would have been still more justified in so expressing himself.
There is no subject of which it is more difficult to treat than Vaudoux worship and the cannibalism that too often accompanies its rites. Few living out of the Black Republic are aware of the extent to which it is carried, and if I insist at length upon the subject, it is in order to endeavour to fix attention on this frightful blot, and thus induce enlightened Haytians to take measures for its extirpation, if that be possible.[8]