“ ‘According to us, the King of Spain is a good king who treats us well, and has testified it to us by rewards; so we shall continue to serve him with zeal and devotion.
“ ‘We see by the law of September 28, 1791, that the National Assembly and the King have agreed to settle definitely the status of slaves, and the political situation of people of colour. We will defend the decrees of the National Assembly with the last drop of our blood.
“ ‘It would be most interesting to us if you would declare, by an order sanctioned by your general, as to your intentions regarding the position of the slaves. Knowing that they are the objects of your solicitude through their chiefs, who send you this, they will be satisfied if the relations now broken are once again resumed.
“ ‘Do not count, gentlemen Deputies, upon our consenting to take up arms for the revolutionary Assemblies. We are the subjects of three kings—the King of Congo, the born master of all the blacks; the King of France, who represents our fathers; and the King of Spain, who is the representative of our mothers. These three kings are the descendants of those who, conducted by a star, worshipped the Man God. If we were to consent to serve the Assemblies, we might be forced to take up arms and to make war against our brothers, the subjects of those three kings to whom we have sworn fidelity. And, besides, we do not know what is meant by the will of the Nation, seeing that since the world has been in existence we have always executed that of the King. The Prince of France loves us; the King of Spain never ceases to help us. We aid them—they aid us; it is the cause of humanity; and, besides, if these kings should fail us we could soon enthrone a king of our own.
“ ‘Such are our intentions, although we now consent to make peace.
“ ‘Signed, Jean François, General; Biassou, Brigadier; Desprez, Manzeau, Toussaint, Aubert, Commissaires; ad hoc.’ ”[[3]]
“You see,” said Biassou, after he had read this piece of negro diplomacy, every word of which has remained imprinted on my memory, “that our intentions are peaceable; but this is what we want you to do: neither Jean François nor I have been brought up in the schools of the whites, or learned the niceties of their language. We know how to fight, but not how to write. Now we do not wish that there should be anything in our letter at which our former masters could laugh. You seem to have learned those frivolous accomplishments in which we are lacking. Correct any faults you may find in this dispatch, so that it may excite no derision amongst the whites, and—I will give you your life!”
This proposition of becoming the corrector of Biassou’s faults of spelling and composition was too repugnant to my pride for me to hesitate for a moment; and besides, what did I care for life. I declined his offer. He appeared surprised.
“What!” exclaimed he, “you prefer death to scrawling a few marks with a pen on a piece of paper?”
“Yes,” replied I.