CHAPTER XIII.
Stunned by the noise of the minute-guns from the Fort, by the cries of the fugitives, and the distant crash of falling buildings, I did not know in what direction to lead my men; but, meeting in the main square the captain of the Yellow Dragoons, he advised me to proceed direct to the Governor.
Other hands have painted the disasters of Cap, and I must pass quickly over my recollections of them, written as they are in fire and blood. I will content myself with saying that the insurgent slaves were already masters of Dondon, of Terrier-Rouge, of the town of Ouanaminte, and of the plantation of Limbé. This last news filled me with uneasiness, owing to the proximity of Limbé to Acul. I made all speed to the Government House. All was in confusion there. I asked for orders, and begged that instant measures might be taken for the security of Acul, which I feared the insurgents were already threatening. With the Governor, Monsieur de Blanchelande, were M. de Rouvray, the Brigadier, and one of the largest landholders in Cap; M. de Touzard, the Lieutenant-Colonel of the Regiment of Cap; a great many members of the Colonial and the Provincial Assemblies, and numbers of the leading colonists. As I entered, all were engaged in a confused argument.
“Your Excellency,” said a member of the Provincial Assembly, “it is only too true, it is the negroes, and not the free mulattoes; it has often been pointed out that there was danger in that direction.”
“You make that statement without believing in its truth,” answered a member of the Colonial Assembly, bitterly, “and you only say it to gain credit at our expense. So far from expecting a rising of the slaves, you got up a sham one in 1789. A ridiculous farce in which with a supposed insurgent force of three thousand slaves, one national volunteer only was killed, and that most likely by his own comrades.”
“I repeat,” replied the Provincial, “that we can see farther than you. It is only natural. We remain upon the spot and study the minutest details of the colony, whilst you and your Assembly hurry off to France to make some absurd proposals; which are often met with a national reprimand Ridiculus mus.”
The member of the Colonial Assembly answered with a sneer—
“Our fellow citizens re-elected us all without hesitation.”
“It was your Assembly,” retorted the other, “that caused the execution of that poor devil who neglected to wear a tricolored cockade in a café, and who commenced a petition for capital punishment to be inflicted on the mulatto Lacombe with that worn-out phrase, ‘In the name of the Father, of the Son, and the Holy Ghost.’ ”
“It is false,” exclaimed the other; “there has always been a struggle of principles against privileges between our assemblies.”
“Ha, Monsieur, I see now you are an Independent.”
“That is tantamount to allowing that you are in favour of the White Cockade: I leave you to get out of that confession as best you may.”
More might have passed, but the Governor interposed.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, what has this to do with the present state of affairs, and the pressing danger that threatens us? Listen to the reports that I have received. The revolt began this night at ten o’clock amongst the slaves in the Turpin Plantation. The negroes, headed by an English slave named Bouckmann, were joined by the blacks from Clement, Trémés, Flaville, and Nöe. They set fire to all the plantations, and massacred the colonists with the most unheard-of barbarities. By one single detail I can make you comprehend all the horrors accompanying this insurrection. The standard of the insurgents is the body of a white child on the point of a pike.”
A general cry of horror interrupted the Governor’s statement.
“So much,” continued he, “for what has passed outside the town. Within its limits all is confusion. Fear has rendered many of the inhabitants forgetful of the duties of humanity, and they have murdered their slaves. Nearly every one have confined their negroes behind bolts and bars. The white artisans accuse the free mulattoes of being participators in the revolt, and many have had great difficulty in escaping from the fury of the populace. I have had to grant them a place of refuge in a church, guarded by a regiment of soldiers; and now, to prove that they have nothing in common with the insurgents, they asked that they may be armed and led against the rebels.”
“Do nothing of the kind, your Excellency,” cried a voice which I recognized as that of the planter with whom I had had a duel. “Do nothing of the kind; give no arms to the mulattoes.”
“What, do you not want to fight?” asked a planter, with a sneer.
The other did not appear to hear him, and continued: “These men of mixed blood are our worst enemies, and we must take every precaution against them. It is from that quarter that the insurgents are recruited; the negroes have but little to do with the rising.” The poor wretch hoped by his abuse of the mulattoes to prove that he had nothing in common with them, and to clear himself from the imputation of having black blood in his veins; but the attempt was too barefaced, and a murmur of disgust rose up on all sides.
“Yes,” said M. de Rouvray, “the slaves have something to do with it, for they are forty to one; and we should be in a serious plight if we could only oppose the negroes and the mulattoes with whites like you.”
The planter bit his lips.
“General,” said the Governor, “what answer shall be given to the petition: shall the mulattoes have the arms?”
“Give them weapons, your Excellency; let us make use of every willing hand. And you, sir,” he added, turning to the colonist of doubtful colour. “Go arm yourself, and join your comrades.”
The humiliated planter slunk away, filled with concentrated rage.
But the cries of distress which rang through the town reached even to the chamber in which the council was being held. M. de Blanchelande hastily pencilled a few words upon a slip of paper, and handed it to one of his aides-de-camp, who at once left the room.
“Gentlemen, the mulattoes will receive arms; but there are many more questions to be settled.”
“The Provincial Assembly should at once be convoked,” said the planter who had been speaking when first I entered.
“The Provincial Assembly?” retorted his antagonist; “what is the Provincial Assembly?”
“You do not know because you are a member of the Colonial Assembly,” replied the favourer of the White Cockade.
The Independent interrupted him. “I know no more of the Colonial than the Provincial—I only recognize the General Assembly.”
“Gentlemen,” exclaimed a planter, “whilst we are losing time with this nonsense, tell me what is to become of my cotton and my cochineal?”
“And my indigo at Lumbé?”
“And my negroes, for whom I paid twenty dollars a-head all round?” said the captain of a slave ship.
“Each minute that you waste,” continued another colonist, “costs me ten quintals of sugar, which at seventeen piastres the quintal makes one hundred and thirty livres, ten sous, in French money, by the——”
Here the rival upholders of the two Assemblies again sought to renew their argument.
“Morbleu,” said M. de Rouvray in a voice of thunder, striking the table violently, “what eternal talkers you are! What do we care about your two assemblies. Summon both of them, your Excellency, and I will form them into two regiments, and when they march against the negroes we shall see whether their tongues or their muskets make the most noise.”
Then turning towards me he whispered—
“Between the two Assemblies and the Governor nothing can be done. These fine talkers spoil all, as they do in Paris. If I was seated in his Excellency’s chair, I would throw all these fellows out of the window, and with my soldiers and a dozen crosses of St. Louis to promise, I would sweep away all the rebels in the island. These fictitious ideas of liberty, which they have all run mad after in France, do not do out here. Negroes should be treated so as not to upset them entirely by sudden liberation; all the terrible events of to-day are merely the result of this utterly mistaken policy, and this rising of the slaves is the natural result of the taking of the Bastille.”
Whilst the old soldier thus explained to me his views—a little narrow-minded perhaps, but full of the frankness of conviction—the stormy argument was at its height. A certain planter, one amongst the few who were bitten with the rabid mania of the revolution, and who called himself Citizen General C——, because he had assisted at a few sanguinary executions, exclaimed—
“We must have punishments rather than battles. Every nation must exist by terrible examples; let us terrify the negroes. It was I who quieted the slaves during the risings of June and July by lining the approach to my house with a double row of negro heads. Let each one join me in this, and let us defend the entrances to Cap with the slaves who are still in our hands.”
“How?” “What do you mean?” “Folly,” “The height of imprudence,” was heard on all sides.
“You do not understand me, gentlemen. Let us make a ring of negro heads, from Fort Picolet to Point Caracole. The rebels, their comrades, will not then dare to approach us. I have five hundred slaves who have remained faithful—I offer them at once.”
This abominable proposal was received with a cry of horror.
“It is infamous! It is too disgusting!” was repeated by at least a dozen voices.
“Extreme steps of this sort have brought us to the verge of destruction,” said a planter. “If the execution of the insurgents of June and July had not been so hurried on, we should have held in our hands the clue to the conspiracy, which the axe of the executioner divided for ever.”
Citizen C—— was silenced for a moment by this outburst; then in an injured tone he muttered—
“I did not think that I, above all others, should have been suspected of cruelty. Why, all my life I have been mixed up with the lovers of the negro race. I am in correspondence with Briscot and Pruneau de Pomme-Gouge, in France; with Hans Sloane, in England; with Magaw, in America; with Pezll, in Germany; with Olivarius, in Denmark; with Wadstiörn, in Sweden; with Peter Paulus, in Holland; with Avendaño, in Spain; and with the Abbé Pierre Tamburini, in Italy!”
His voice rose as he ran through the names of his correspondents amongst the lovers of the African race, and he terminated his speech with the contemptuous remark—
“But, after all, there are no true philosophers here.”
For the third time M. de Blanchelande asked if any one had anything further to propose.
“Your Excellency,” cried one, “let us embark on board the Leopard, which lies at anchor off the quay.”
“Let us put a price on the head of Bouckmann,” exclaimed another.
“Send a report of what has taken place to the Governor of Jamaica,” suggested a third.
“A good idea, so that he may again send us the ironical help of five hundred muskets!” sneered a member of the Provincial Assembly. “Your Excellency, let us send the news to France, and wait for a reply.”
“Wait—a likely thing indeed,” exclaimed M. de Rouvray; “and do you think that the blacks will wait, eh? And the flames that encircle our town, do you think that they will wait? Your Excellency, let the tocsin be sounded, and send dragoons and grenadiers in search of the main body of the rebels. Form a camp in the eastern division of the island; plant military posts at Trou and at Vallieres. I will take charge of the plain of Dauphin; but let us lose no more time, for the moment for action has arrived.”
The bold and energetic speech of the veteran soldier hushed all differences of opinion. The general had acted wisely. That secret knowledge which every one possesses most conducive to his own interests, caused all to support the proposal of General de Rouvray; and whilst the Governor with a warm clasp of the hand showed his old friend that his counsels had been appreciated, though they had been given in rather a dictatorial manner, the colonists urged for the immediate carrying out of the proposals.
I seized the opportunity to obtain from M. de Blanchelande the permission that I so ardently desired, and, leaving the room, mustered my company in order to return to Acul—though, with the exception of myself, all were worn out with the fatigue of their late march.
