University of Virginia Library

HIS PRIME.

The years pass on, and overhead,
Portentious clouds of fear and dread,
Obscure the sky!
No ray of hope for bondmen sad,
“Whom gods destroy they first make mad!”
Then seize their prey.

24

In seventeen hundred ninety-one,
Mid-August at the set of sun,
There suddenly
Appeared upon the evening sky
A ruddy glow; we hear the cry—
For liberty!
The horror of those days, no pen
Can tell, of children, women, men,
Hurried to death!
The masters tortured, shot and burned;
The slaves their hideous crimes returned;
The very breath.
Of realms infernal filled the air!
Nor cry, nor groan, nor pleading prayer.
Could stay the hand
Of voilence, 'twas deaths mælstrom!
It seemed indeed the day of doom
Throughout the land!
From peaceful toil to take his place,
As the deliverer of his race
Toussaint came forth.
This is the man of prophecy,
Who, for a noble destiny
Was given birth!

25

A leader-born, in manhood's prime,
Called to command in God's own time,
When there was need;
Large-hearted, pure, magnanimous,
His policy was glorious,
With noble deed!
And brightly shone his prosperous star,
Red Mars, the harbinger of war,
On many a field!
Confronted by the valiant band,
Under his firm and steady hand,
The foemen yield!
His dauntless courage everywhere,
His power with men, his wisdom rare,
Success assure.
An inspiration is his name!
With pride his followers exclaim:
L'Overture!
Yes, 'twas Toussaint L'Overture,
Who boldly opened freedom's door
To Afric's son,
Who met the men of Britain, Spain,
In war-array, on hill and plain,
And nobly won!

26

To win him o'er the British bring
Inducement—“Thou shalt be a king
Of great renown!”
To serve the race his heart desires!
To wreath of Freedom he aspires!
The richest crown!
The war is over; peace again
Discovers fields of fruit and grain,
In bounty rare!
Prosperity on every hand;
Free, happy toil, throughout the land!
Oh! vision fair!
New laws are made, and order reigns;
No more the clank of servile chains;
But far and near,
With one accord—“Our Governor,
Shall be Toussaint L'Overture!”
From all we hear.
This man is chosen for his life,
To govern Hayti, freed from strife,
And takes his place,
Among the rulers of the earth.
Destined to rule e'en from his birth!
Again we trace!

27

How peaceful are the scenes that we
Behold on every hand! how free
The people all!
'Tis Jubilee, the year of rest;
Each one with royal bounty blessed,
Both great and small.
But years pass on. The gathering cloud,
The rolling peal of thunder loud,
Is seen and heard.
Oppression rears his hideous head,
That hateful foe; the people's dread
Is deeply stirred!
In eighteen one, great Bonaparte,
Proud conqueror with a treacherous heart,
Sent forth the word;
“That slavery in the Colonies,
And in the French Dependencies,
Shall be restored!”
Now consternation everywhere,
And maledictions fill the air.
“For liberty!
We'll fight until the latest breath!
We'll fight for freedom unto death
Or victory!”

28

Then sixty ships from shores of France,
On waves of ocean gaily dance,
With martial crew.
“All France to St. Domingo comes!
Ah! we must perish with our homes.”
Like morning dew!
LeClerc with thirty thousand men,
Draws near and slays the garrison
Of Liberty.
Holding the sons of brave Toussaint
As hostages, he makes a feint
Of Amity.
“Surrender: and your sons remain!
Refuse, we take them back again!
To misery!
“Take back my sons!” the chief exclaimed;
“I can not pay the ransom named—
Our liberty!”
Then reigned a carnival of blood!
Wild revelry—a crimson flood
Was everywhere!
The sea was red with human gore,
For fifteen hundred blacks, and more
Were slaughtered there!

29

No quarter, now, for age or sex!
The order is to slay and vex
The old and young.
The rich and poor, of every race,
Are, without warning, called to face
Death's fiery tongue!
Toussaint with burning eloquence,
To deeds of valor in defence,
Inspired his men:
“Remember that the cause of Right,
Of Justice, Truth—a righteous fight—
Is sure to win!”
'Twas all in vain! The Frenchmen found
On St. Domingo's battle-ground,
And Hayti's field,
A foe they could not overcome;
They fought for freedom and for home!
They would not yield!
“LeClerc in disappointment sore;
His troops discouraged, more and more.
Issues decree:
“Each one who will refuse to fight,
Shall have all privilege and right!
He shall be free!

30

Deceived; his brother Paul withdraws,
Bellair, and gallant Maurepas
Submit to France!
But brave Toussaint his aid-de-camps
Valiant Christoph and Dessalaines
With sword advance!
A solemn message is received;
The wise Toussaint is not deceived,
But fear awakes!
To pacify his followers,
With chief of Frenchmen he confers,
And treaty makes.
“Submit, and truly, I declare,
Shall rights and freedom everywhere
Respected be!
In rule my colleague thou shalt be;
Full rank, and general amnesty,
And lenity.”
“I might in mountains still remain,
And harass thee on hill and plain
With brigand's shield;
But constant bloodshed I disdain!
I fought our freedom to maintain!
To terms I yield!”

31

He now retired to Ennery,
Surrounded by his family,
For rest and peace.
A valley, rich and beautiful
Where Nature's gifts are bountiful—
A great increase.
The French, the aged chief annoyed,
The soldiers wantonly destroyed
His property.
His friends indignant recommend
To rise in might, his rights defend—
His liberty.
He made reply to words of strife;
“What if my liberty, my life,
Is from me shorn?
My country's freedom is at stake!
I can not now afford to make
My people mourn!
A letter couched in language fair,
Invites our hero to repair
To Brunet's home:
“Your welfare and the colony,
My highest pleasure e'er shall be;
Believe me, come!”

32

Without a thought of treachery:
Trusting in his sincerity,
Nor doubt, nor fear;
For love of country he goes forth,
To treachery's hand, this man of worth,
From freedom dear!
Received with honour and respect,
Naught but good-will could he detect—
A noble part!
His host examined heartily
The interests of the colony,
With map and chart.
'Tis evening's hour, when suddenly
Armed men appear, and forcibly,
Before he wist,
They seize the veteran with the word:
“Surrender! Death at point of sword
If you resist!”
He rose to meet them in his might!
'Tis useless—an unequal fight!
No help is near.
Such are Injustice's cruel laws!
“Heaven will avenge my righteous cause!
My God will hear!”

33

'Tis midnight. With his wife and child,
Breast raging with a tempest wild,
A storm of grief;
Chained—manacled—the guards beside—
Toussaint is hurried o'er the tide,
Beyond relief!
Gazing farewell unto the shore,
His home for years, but his no more,
He said, with tears;
“They have cut down the noble tree,
The tree of Freedom, Liberty!
But coming years
Shall see these rootlets sprout again!
Many and deep on hill and plain,
And valley broad!”
His trust was in a higher power
Than France could wield that treacherous hour,
Jehovah! God!
Without a charge or just complaint,
To Castle Joux they bear Toussaint
A captive lone,
Upon the verge of Switzerland,
On Jura's height the castles stand
On summit stone!

34

Here in the dreary dungeon cell
The brave Toussaint is forced to dwell
In misery!
Damp, cold, and hunger, his compeers,
Grim loneliness, and hideous fears,
Continually!
He wrote to General Bonaparte:
“I served thy cause with my whole heart—
Fidelity,
What is my crime? Why do I dwell
A prisoner in this loathsome cell?
My liberty!
To these appeals no answers come;
No message from the loved at home
Glad news to tell!
He sent a message to his wife
Which never reached her in this life—
His last farewell!
Reduced by peril, hunger, cold,
By longings that can ne'er be told;
With failing breath;
He bowed beneath the heavy rod,
With perfect trust and faith in God,
And slept in death!

35

A warrior true of great renown.
A hero, martyr, him we crown!
He led the van!
His heaven-born soul to God has flown!
This world of ours has never known
A nobler man!
[_]
Note.—

Toussaint died of starvation and exposure to cold in a cell, in Castle Joux, near the border of Switzerland, in 1803, at the age of 60 years. He was confined there eight months, and France refused to give him a trial or to answer his communications. Madame Toussaint sank under the weight of her great afflictions. Her health became very feeble, and at times her mind wandered.

When the power of Bonaparte was overthrown, and a new Government was introduced into France, a pension was granted for her support, and her two sons were released from prison. She died in their arms in 1816, thirteen years after the death of our hero.

 

L'Overture means—The Opening.

Fort Liberty.