I was born when our country was perishing. Thirty thousand Frenchmen, vomited on our coasts, drowning the throne of liberty in streams of blood—such was the odious spectacle which first presented itself to my sight.
The cries of the dying, the groans of the oppressed, the tears of despair, were the companions of my infancy.
You quitted our island, and with you disappeared the hope of happiness. Slavery was the reward of our submission; weighed down under the triple chain of the soldier, the legislator, and the collector of imposts, our countrymen live despised—despised by those who have the forces of the administration in their hands. Is not this the severest of suffering for those who have the slightest elevation of sentiment? Can the wretched Peruvian, groaning under the tortures of the rapacious Spaniard, experience a vexation more galling?
The traitors to our country—the wretches whom the thirst of sordid gain has corrupted—to justify themselves, have circulated calumnies against the national government, and against you in particular. Writers, adopting them as truths, transmit them to posterity.
While reading them, my blood has boiled with indignation; and at length I have resolved to disperse these delusions, the offspring of ignorance. An early study of the French language, long observation, and documents drawn from the portfolios of the patriots, have led me to promise myself some success.
I wish to compare your government of our country with the present one. I wish to brand with infamy the men who have betrayed the common cause. I wish to summon before the tribunal of public opinion the men now in power—to set forth their vexatious proceedings, expose their secret intrigues, and if possible, interest the present minister[659] in the deplorable situation we are now in.
If my fortune had permitted me to live in the capital, I should doubtless have found out other means of making known the wrongs of my country: but, obliged to serve in the army, I find myself compelled to resort to this, the only means of publicity; for, as to private memorials, they would either not reach those for whom they were intended, or, stifled by the clamour of interested individuals, they would only occasion the ruin of the author.
Still young, my undertaking may be a rash one; but a love of truth, my native land, and fellow-countrymen—that enthusiasm, with which the prospect of an amelioration in our state always inspires me, will be my support. If you, general, condescend to approve of a labour, of which your deeds will form so large a portion—if you condescend to encourage the efforts of a young man, whom you have known from the hour of his birth, and whose parents were always attached to the good cause, I shall dare to augur favourably of my success.
I at one time indulged a hope, that I should have been able to go to London, to express to you in person the sentiments you have given birth to in my bosom, and to converse together on the misfortunes of our country; but the distance is an obstacle. The day, perhaps, will arrive, when I shall be able to overcome it.
Whatever may be the success of my work, I am sensible that it will raise against me the whole host of French employés, who misgovern our island, and against whom my attack is directed. But what imports their enmity, when the interest of our country is at stake! I shall be loaded with their abuse; and, when the bolt falls, I shall descend into my own bosom, call to memory the legitimacy of my motives, and from that moment defy it.