CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.
SUSPENSE.
Nature wrought with the blacks this season for the fulfilment of theirhopes, and the defence of their precarious liberties. Never, within theremembrance of the young people at Pongaudin, had the heat set in soearly, and the month of May been so sickly in the towns. To the eyes ofsuch as Genifrede, who were ever on the watch for signs, it might almostseem that they saw Pestilence floating, on her poison-dropping wings,beneath the clouds which sailed from all quarters of the sky to themountain-peaks; clouds muttering in thunder, and startling the intruderswith terrific lightnings, from night-to-night. The reports of feverhaving broken out here and there among the invaders became more and morefrequent. At first, those who were watching the times the most intentlyconcluded that, early as the season was, "the wish" must be "father tothe thought," and believed little of what they heard. But beforeToussaint had been ten days at Pongaudin, it was certain that diseasewas raging to such an extent among the French troops at Cap, that theCaptain-General had retired to Tortuga, to join his lady, and others ofthe expedition who were the most carefully guarded. The garrison atSaint Marc was thinning, Therese sent word; and the country peopleconveyed to Pongaudin the news that funerals were becoming daily morefrequent at Limbe, Le Dauphin, and other posts along the northern shore.
Not for this, however, was there any relaxation of the vigilance withwhich L'Ouverture was watched by the foe. His mode of life was simple,and open to the observation of any who chose to look on. He improvedhis gardens; he read much; he interested himself in Denis's studies; herode out daily, and conversed everywhere with the people by the wayside.He wrote many letters, sometimes with his own hand, and sometimesemploying that of his friend, Monsieur Pascal, who, with his wife,resided with the Ouvertures. Toussaint also received many letters, anda perpetual succession of visitors--of applicants about matters ofbusiness, as it seemed. The only mystery was, how all his despatcheswere sent to their destination. This was a mystery which grew out ofthe French practice of intercepting his correspondence. Accidents hadhappened to so many of his letters during the first week, that hepresently learned the necessity of some plan for securing the privacy ofhis correspondence: and some plan he did devise, which quite succeeded;as appeared from the French General having recourse to a new mode ofsurveillance--that of setting spies on the person and movements of theblack chief.
Toussaint's family were alarmed at finding his steps tracked, and hisrepose watched. They heard incessantly of his path being crossed in hisrides; and they knew that many of the trifling messages which werebrought, at all hours of the day and night, to be delivered intoL'Ouverture's own ear, were mere devices to learn whether he was athome. They saw that their grounds were never private; and felt thateyes watched them from the outer darkness when their saloon was lightedfor their evening employments and amusements. Toussaint smiled at thealarms of his family, admitting the fact of this incessant _espionnage_,but asking what harm it did, and pointing out that it was only aninconvenience of a few weeks' duration. He would not hear of anystrengthening of his guard. To increase his guard would be to encourageand authorise the suspicions which he was now daily weakening. He hadnothing to conceal; and the sooner the invaders satisfied themselves ofthis, the better for all parties.
In answer to Madame L'Ouverture's frequent speculations as to whatLeclerc could fix his suspicions on, Toussaint said he was probablysupposed to be in communication with Dessalines. He thought so from hisnever approaching the mornes, in his rides, without finding Frenchsoldiers overlooking his proceedings from every point of the hills. Hewas not in communication with Dessalines. He did not know, and hewished not to know even where he was--whether with the Bellairs, ortraining his soldiers elsewhere for further warfare. Dessalines hadnever submitted; and while this was the case, it was obviously prudentfor those who had made terms to know nothing of any plans of his towhich they might wish success. Therese would not compromise theOuvertures by living with them, in the present state of affairs. Sheremained quietly on her husband's estate, near Saint Marc, onlycorresponding frequently with her friends at Pongaudin, in letters whichall the world might see.
The chief subject of this correspondence was the fever-hospitalspreparing at Saint Marc, as at all the other towns on the coast, for thereception of the sick whites. Whatever might be Therese's feelingstowards the whites, her compassion towards sick persons of every colourwas stronger. Her gentle nature asserted itself whenever weakness andsuffering appealed to it; and this season she began to inspire thataffection in her neighbours--to establish that character for devotedcharity, which afterwards made her the idol of the people. If herhusband had been with her, he would probably have forbidden her to savethe lives of any of that race whom he desired to exterminate. Butthough she could perhaps have taken away life, with her own hand, on thebattlefield, with the cry of liberty in her ear, she could form nocompact with such an ally as pestilence. In the season of truce andretreat, in the absence of the sounds and sights of conflict, she becameall the woman--the gentle spirit--to whom the colony from this timelooked up, as sent to temper her husband's ferocity, and wisely todirect his strengthening passions. She who was so soon after "the GoodEmpress," was now the Sister of Charity, actually forgetting formerwrongs in present compassion for the helpless; and ministering to thesick without thought whether, on recovery, they would be friends orfoes. It was matter of speculation to many besides the Ouvertures,whether the invaders omitted the opportunity of making a hostage of her,because their sick needed her services, or because they were gratefulfor her offices, or because they knew Dessalines well enough to be awarethat, so far from such an act bringing him to submission, it wouldexasperate his ferocity, and draw down new sufferings and danger uponthe discouraged whites.
One evening, the household of the Ouvertures were where it was now theirwont to be at sunset--under the trees, on a grassy slope of the gardens,fronting the west. There they usually sat at this hour, to see the sunsink into the ocean; the darkness following almost as quickly as if thatgreat fire were indeed quenched in the waters. On this occasion, thesun was still half-an-hour above the horizon, when Madame Dessalinesappeared, in her riding-dress, and, as she said, in haste. She spokeapart with Madame L'Ouverture and Toussaint; and presently calledGenifrede to the conference.
Therese had of late wanted help at Saint Marc--help in directing thenursing of the sick. Now she must have it. Monsieur Papalier was ill--very ill. The people of the house where he lived insisted upon sendinghim into the hospital this very night, if good attendance were notprovided for him; and now--
Therese did not yet seem quite clear why this event had determined themoment of her application for Genifrede's assistance. She was agitated.She could only say that Genifrede had nursed Dessalines well; and shemust have her help again now.
"You will go, Genifrede," said her father; "that Madame Dessalines maybe at liberty to nurse Monsieur Papalier herself."
"No, no," said Therese, trembling. Genifrede also said "No."
"You would not have me nurse _him_?" said Therese. "Any one else! Askme to save Rochambeau. Send me to Tortuga, to raise Leclerc from thebrink of the grave; but do not expect me to be _his_ nurse again."
"I do hope it from you. I expect it of you, when you have consideredthe tenfold mercy of nursing _him_ with your own hands. Think of theopportunity you will give him of retrieving wrongs, if he lives, and ofeasing his soul, if he dies. How many of us would desire, above allthings, to have those whom we have injured beside our dying pillow, tomake friends of them at last? Let Monsieur Papalier die grateful toyou, if he must die; and give him a new heart towards you, if hesurvives."
"It was not this that I intended," said Therese. "Genifrede will doeverything, under my care. You shall have my help, Genifrede."
"No," said Genifrede. "Do not play the tempter with me. Find some oneelse. You will have much to answer for, if you make me go."
"What tempta
tion, Genifrede?" asked her mother.
"Do not press her," said Toussaint, who read his child's mind. "Youshall not be urged, Genifrede."
"You do not know--I myself do not know," said Genifrede, hurriedly, toMadame Dessalines, "what might happen--what I might be tempted to do.You know--you have read what some nurses did in the plague at Milan--inthe plague in London--in the night--with wet cloths--"
"Do not speak of it. Stay here, Genifrede. I can do without you."
"If," continued Genifrede, "they could do that for money--if the temptermoved their hands to that deed with whispers of money, with the sight ofmere rings and watches, what might not a wretched creature do, at such atime, with revenge muttering for ever in her heart! My ear is weary ofit here; and there--I cannot go."
"No, you cannot," said Therese.
"Christ strengthen you, my child," said Toussaint, "as Therese isstrengthening! She can already serve those whom she and you once hatedalike: and she is about to save her foe of foes."
"No, you will not save Monsieur Papalier," said Genifrede.
"L'Ouverture is a prophet, as all men are in proportion as they areChristians," said Therese. "If he says I shall save my enemy, I believeI shall."
"You will, at least, try. If you are going, go;--the sun is setting,"said Toussaint. "What escort have you?"
"Old Dessalines and another, I want no more."
"Old Dessalines!" said Toussaint, smiling; "then he must have wine. Imust see him."
"He is here," said Therese, calling him.
The old man was, indeed, lingering near, preferring the chance of a wordfrom L'Ouverture even to supper and wine within. He was ready enough totell his story:--that he lived as butler at General Dessalines'; and,that though master and servant had changed places, he liked the newtimes better than the old. He was treated with more respect now, byeverybody, than when he was a negro tradesman, even though he then had aslave of his own. The place of butler suited him too. GeneralDessalines and his lady drank only water; and they left him to managethe wine-cellar just as he liked; except at the present time, when adreadful quantity of wine was wanted for the convalescents. Itfrightened him to think how soon the cellar might be emptied, if theywent on at this rate. Old Dessalines was glad he had come to Pongaudinto-day. He had not only seen L'Ouverture, but had heard fromL'Ouverture's own lips that General Dessalines' cellars should never bequite empty while there was wine at Pongaudin.
When Toussaint resumed his seat under the tree, where the Pascals,Euphrosyne, Placide, and Denis remained (the rest having gone into thehouse with Therese), he found Denis discussing with Monsieur Pascal theprinciple and policy of nursing the sick who were hereafter to be mowndown on the battlefield. Denis had been reminded that this was a timeof peace, and that he was not authorised to anticipate morebattlefields: and his reply had shown that he had no faith in thispeace, but looked forward, like others of his colour, to August and itsconsequences. He was not contradicted here; and he went on to askwhether the Crusaders (his favourite warriors) nursed the wounded andsick heathens whom they found on their road, and in the cities theytook.
"They were no Christians if they did not," said Euphrosyne.
"It was a savage age," observed Placide.
"Still they were the representatives of the Christianity of their day,"said Afra; "and Christianity requires us to do good to those who use usill."
"The Crusaders," said Toussaint, "lived in the early days of thatChristianity which is to endure as long as the race of man. Likeothers, they did their part in acting out one of its principles. Thatone was not love of enemies,--which yet remains for us."
"I agree with you," said Pascal. "There are many ways of warring forthe Cross. Theirs was one; ours is another."
"You always speak as if you were a black, Monsieur Pascal," said Denis.
"I would fain be a negro in heart and temper, Denis, if what your fatherthinks of the vocation of negroes be true."
"But about those ways of warring for the Cross!" inquired Afra.
"I mean, and L'Ouverture, I think, means," said Pascal, "that nothingcan immediately alter the nature of men; that the glorious Gospel itselfis made to change the face of the world gradually; all the more surely,because slowly and naturally. This seed of life was cast upon the floodof human passions, and the harvest must not be looked for till aftermany days. Meantime it sprouts out, now here, now there, proving thatit is alive and growing; but the harvest is not yet."
"We find one trace of the Gospel here, and another there," saidToussaint; "but a Christian nation, or race, or class of people, who hasseen?"
"Not in the earliest days?" asked Euphrosyne. "Were not the firstconfessors and martyrs a Christian class?"
"They were so according to their intention, to their own idea," saidToussaint. "They were votaries of the one Christian principle mostneeded in their time. The noble men, the courageous women, who stood,calm and resolved, in the midst of the amphitheatre, with the heathenaltar behind them, the hungry tiger before them, and a careless orscoffing multitude ranged all around--these were strong witnesses to thegreat principle of Faith--noble proofs of the power of living and dyingfor things unseen. This was their function. It was for others to showforth the humility and modesty in which, as a class, they failed."
"The anchorites," said Pascal, "each in his cave, solitary, abstemious,showed forth in its strength the principle of Devotion, leaving Charityunthought of."
"And then the nun," said Toussaint--
"What possible grace of religion did the nun exhibit?" asked Euphrosyne.
"The original nun, Euphrosyne, was inspired with the reverence ofPurity. In an age of licence, those who were devoted to spiritualthings were the salt of the earth. But in their worship of purity theyoutraged human love."
"The friar," said Pascal, "was a perpetual emblem of Unworldliness. Heforced upon the admiration of a self-seeking world the peace of poverty,the repose of soul which is troubled with no thought for the morrow.But for other teachers, however, industry would have been despised--thegreat law of toil would have remained unrecognised."
"The Crusaders worked hard enough," said Denis. "Thousands andthousands of them died of their toils, besides the slain."
"They were the apostles of Zeal," said Monsieur Pascal. "For the honourof the Gospel they suffered and died. They overlooked all that itteaches of toleration and universal love;--of peace on earth andgood-will to men."
"None of these Christians," said Afra, "appear to have had much concernfor men. They seemed to have lived for God and the faith, without loveor care for those for whose sake God gave the faith."
"Just so," said her husband. "That part of our religion had not yetcome into action. The first step taken towards this action was onewhich united with it the former devotion to God. The organisation ofthe great Church of Christ united, in the intentions of those who formedit, care for the glory of God and the salvation of men. It was a greatstep."
"But still," said Euphrosyne, "there was not the Charity, the living forthe good of men, soul and body, which was what Christ taught andpractised."
"That, Euphrosyne, was a later fruit; but it is ripening now. We havemore Sisters of Charity than contemplative nuns, at this time. Thereare hospitals in every Christian land for the sick and the aged. It isremembered now, too, that Christ had compassion on the blind, and thedeaf, and the insane: and charity to these is now the Christianity of amultitude."
"And what is their defect?" asked Denis. "What essential do theyoverlook, as the anchorite and the crusader overlooked this samecharity?"
"It may be liberality--regard to the Christian liberty of others;--itmay be--"
"Let us not look too closely into their failures," said Toussaint. "Letus not judge our brethren. These are too near our own time for us to bejust judges. We see their charity--the brightest light yet in theconstellation of Christian principles; let us be thankful that our eyeshave seen it. It is brightening too; s
o that day telleth to-day of itsincrease, and night is witness of it unto night. It is now not only thesick and infirm in body that are cared for; but I am told there has beena man in England who has taken such pity on those who are sick anddeformed in soul as to have explored the most loathsome of Europeanprisons in their behalf. There has been a Briton who pitied the guiltyabove all other sufferers, and devoted to them his time, his fortune,his all. He will have followers, till Christendom itself follows him;and he will thus have carried forward the Gospel one step. The charitywhich grieves more for the deformity of the soul than the evils of thebody is so far higher a charity, that it may almost be called a newprinciple."
"What remains?" asked Euphrosyne.
"Do you see anything further to be done, father?" inquired Denis.
With a mournful smile, Toussaint replied that mankind had advanced but alittle way yet. The world was very far from being Christianised.
"In practice," said Euphrosyne. "But, supposing us all to fulfil whathas been exemplified from the earliest days till now, do you supposethat many principles remain to be acted upon?"
"No doubt. If I saw none, I should believe, from all experience, thatrevelations (or rather verifications of what Christ revealed) willsucceed each other as long as men exist. But, from the beginning tillnow, individuals here and there have lived by the principles whichclasses and nations have overlooked. By a solitary ray shining here andthere, we may foretell something of the new lights about to rise uponthe world. There will be more privileged classes, Euphrosyne; and,Denis, these privileges are lying within our grasp."
"A new charity, father?"
"A new charity, my boy. To solace the sick and infirm is good. To tendthe diseased soul is better. But there is a higher charity still."
"To do good to those who hate us," said Monsieur Pascal; "in doing good,to conquer not only our love of ease and our fear of pain, but ourprejudices, our just resentments, our remembrance of injuries, ourdisgust at oppression, our contempt of pride--to forget or conquer allthese through the love of men as men, is, indeed, a higher charity thanany which classes have yet illustrated."
"The negroes are the race that will illustrate it," said Toussaint, withcalm confidence. "The Gospel is for the whole world. It sprang upamong the Jews; the white Gentiles hold it now; and the negroes aredestined to fulfil their share. They are to illustrate its highestCharity. For tokens, mark their meek and kindly natures, the softnessand the constancy of their affections, and (whenever tried) theirplacability. Thus prepared, liberty is about to be opened to them in aregion of civilisation. When God has given them the strength of thefree, it will exalt their meekness and their love into that highestcharity of which we have spoken. I myself am old; and though I shall dowhat I can on this side the grave, I cannot see the great day, except infaith. But my children may witness at least its dawn."
"In those days, wars will cease," said Euphrosyne, recalling thethoughts she had revolved on the day of the death of Moyse: "there willbe no bloodshed, no violence--no punishment of injuries to others, whileyour people forgive their own."
"So will it be, I trust," said Toussaint.
"Why not, then, begin now? Why not act upon your whole principle atonce?"
"Because the nature of the negro has been maimed. He has been madeselfish, cowardly, and indolent. He must be educated back into a faircondition; and this necessary education circumstances have imposed. Weare compelled to the self-denial, toil, and danger of warfare, in orderto obtain the liberty which is to carry us forward. I once hopedotherwise, Euphrosyne; but I now see the bracing process of defensivewarfare to be inevitable, and, on the whole, good for my people. Theirliberties, thus hardly won, will be prized, so as to shut out the futuredanger of war. If, however, one stroke is inflicted for other purposesthan defence--if one life is taken for vengeance, we shall be set back,long and far, in our career. It shall not be, under my rule. Alas! forthose who succeed me, if they permit it! It will not only make thefirst black empire a by-word throughout the world, but it will renderthe Christian civilisation of my people difficult and slow."
Toussaint spoke like a rider; and he was virtually still a sovereign, ashe had been for years past. Nor were the tokens of sovereigntyaltogether wanting. At this moment, as was continually happening,despatches arrived, on affairs of great importance, on which he mustthink and act.
"See what these French commanders are doing," said he, handing hisletters to Monsieur Pascal, "at the very moment that they disclaim allintention of enslaving the negroes! What are they doing yonder butrecommencing slavery? It must not be. Are you disposed for business?"
"This moment," said Monsieur Pascal, springing up before he had finishedthe letters. "Will you provide a messenger? Slavery is restored; andthere is not a moment to be lost."
As in old days, lights were ordered into the library; and theroyal-souled negro dictated his commands to his friendly secretary, whosmiled, at such an hour, at the thought of the exultation of the Frenchcourt over the "surrender" and "submission" of the blacks.