The Hour and the Man Part 58

"The delusion is so strong," said Placide, "that I verily believe that if these twelve thousand were all dead to-day, twenty thousand more would be ready to come to-morrow. If every officer was buried here, the choicest commanders there would press forward over their graves. If even the Leclercs should perish, I believe that other relatives of the First Consul, and perhaps some other of his sisters, would kneel to him, as these have done, to implore him to appoint them to the new expedition to Saint Domingo."

"The madness of numbers is never without an open cause," said Toussaint.

"What is the cause here?"

"Clear and plain enough. The representations of the emigrants coming in aid of the secret wishes of Bonaparte, have, under his encouragement, turned the heads of his family, his court, and after them, of his people."

"The emigrants sigh for their country (and it is a country to sigh after), and they look back on their estates and their power, I suppose; while the interval of ten years dims in their memories all inconveniences from the climate, and from the degradation of their order."

"They appear to forget that any form of evil but Oge and you, father, ever entered their paradise. They say that, but for you, they might have been all this while in paradise. They have boasted of its wealth and its pleasures, till there is not a lady in the court of France who does not long to come and dwell in palaces of perfumed woods, marbles, and gold and silver. They dream of pa.s.sing the day in breezy shades, and of sipping the nectar of tropical fruits, from hour to hour. They think a good deal, too, of the plate and wines, and equipages, and trains of attendants, of which they have heard so much; and at the same time, of martial glory and laurel crowns."

"So these are the ideas with which they have come to languish on Tortuga, and be buried in its sands! These emigrants have much to answer for."

"So Isaac and I perpetually told them; but they would not listen to anything said by an Ouverture. Nor could we wonder at this, when persons of every colour were given to the same boastings; so that Isaac and I found ourselves tempted into a like strain upon occasion."

"It appears as if the old days had returned," said Toussaint; "the days of Columbus and his crows. We are as the unhappy Indians to the rapacity of Europe. No wonder, if mulattoes and blacks speak of the colony as if it were the old Hayti."

"They do, from Lanville, the coffee-planter, to our Mars Plaisir. Mars Plaisir has brought orders for I do not know how many parrots; and for pearls, and perfumes, and spices, and variegated woods."

"Is it possible?" said Toussaint, smiling. "Does he really believe his own stories? If so, that accounts for his staying with you, instead of going with Isaac; which I wondered at. I thought he could not have condescended to us, after having lived in France."

"He condescends to be wherever he finds most scope for boasting. On Tortuga, or among the ashes of Cap, he can boast no more. With us he can extol France, as there he extolled Saint Domingo. If August brings the destruction we look for, the poor fellow ought to die of remorse; but he has not head enough to suffer for the past. You can hold out till August, father?"

"If Maurepas joins us here with his force, I have no doubt of holding out till August. In these mornes, as many as will not yield might resist for life; but my own forces, aided by those of Maurepas, may effectually keep off the grasp of the French from all places but those in which they are actually quartered. A few actions may be needful,-- morally needful,--to show them that the blacks can fight. If this lesson will not suffice, August, alas! will exterminate the foe. What do I see stirring among the ferns there? Is it more game?"

Placide started up.

"Too near us for game," he whispered; and then added aloud, "Shall we carry home another deer? Shall I fire?"

At these words, some good French was heard out of the tall, tree-like ferns,--voices of men intreating that no one would fire; and two Frenchman presently appeared, an army and a navy officer.

"How came you here, gentlemen? Are you residents in the colony?"

"If we had been, we should not have lost ourselves, as you perceive we have done. We are sent by the Captain-General to parley, as a last hope of avoiding the collision which the Captain-General deprecates. Here are our credentials, by which you will discover our names,--Lieutenant Martin," pointing to his companion, "and Captain Sabes," bowing for himself.

"It is too late for negotiation, gentlemen," said L'Ouverture, "as the news from the south will already have informed the Captain-General. I regret the accident of your having lost your way, as it will deprive you for a time of your liberty. You must be aware that, voluntarily or involuntarily, you have fulfilled the office of spies; and for the present, therefore, I cannot part with you. Placide, summon our attendants, and, with them, escort these gentlemen to Le Zephyr. I shall soon join you there, and hear anything that your charge may have to say."

The officers protested, but in vain.

"It is too late, gentlemen. You may thank your own commanders for compelling me to run no more risks--for having made trust in a French officer's honour a crime to my own people. You may have heard and seen so much that I am compelled to hold you prisoners. As I have no proof, however, that you are spies, your lives are safe."

In answer to Placide's shout--the well-known mountain-cry which he was delighted to revive--their followers appeared on all sides, some bringing in their game, some empty-handed. The French officers saw that escape was impossible. Neither had they any thought, but for a pa.s.sing moment, of fighting for their liberty. The Ouvertures were completely armed; and there never was an occasion when a man would lightly engage, hand-to-hand, with Toussaint or his son.

Half the collected party, including Vincent, accompanied Toussaint to Pongaudin. The other half escorted Placide and his prisoners up the morne to Le Zephyr; these carried all the game for a present provision.

Placide observed an interchange of glances between his prisoners as they pa.s.sed the spades, pick-axes, and fresh-dug earth in the plateaus. He had little idea how that glance was connected with the romancing he had just been describing; nor how much of insult and weary suffering it boded to his father.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

RETREAT.

Pongaudin was indeed no longer safe. Immediately on the return of Coa.s.son to the fleet, under the date of the 17th of February, the Captain-General issued a proclamation of outlawry against L'Ouverture and Christophe, p.r.o.nouncing it the imperative duty of every one who had the power to seize and deliver up the traitors. As Toussaint said to his family, Pongaudin was a residence for a citizen; outlaws must go to the mountains.

To the mountain they went--not weeping and trembling, but in a temper of high courage and hope. The rocks rang with the military music which accompanied them. Their very horses seemed to feel the spirit of their cause; much more were the humblest of the soldiery animated with the hope of success in the struggle, which was now to be carried on in a mode which they much preferred to keeping watch in the plains. They found the pa.s.s well fortified; they found the morne above it still and undisturbed; untrod, as it seemed now likely to remain, by the foot of an invader. They found the mansion at Le Zephyr, s.p.a.cious as it was, much enlarged by temporary erections, and prepared for the abode of more than the number that had come. Madame Pascal looked at her husband with a sigh, when the alterations met her eye; and Raymond himself did not much relish seeing sentinels posted at all his gates. Euphrosyne, however, was still quite happy. Here was her beloved Le Zephyr, with its blossoming cacao-groves. Here were s.p.a.ce, freedom, and friends; and neither convent rules nor nuns.

A perpetual line of communication was established between the pa.s.s and this mansion. Vincent, with a troop, was appointed to guard the estate and the persons on it--including the two French prisoners. Placide was to join his father below, to receive the forces which flocked to the rendezvous. Before he went, he pointed out to Vincent, and his own family, a station, on a steep at some distance in the rear of the house, whence they might discern, with a good gla.s.s, the road which wound through the plain of the Artibonite, within two miles of the Plateaux, and up towards Plaisance to the north. Many and wonderful were the objects seen from this lofty station; but not one of them--not even the green knolls and hollows of the morne, stretched out from Le Zephyr to the pa.s.s--not the br.i.m.m.i.n.g river of the plain--not the distant azure sea, with its tufted isles--was so interesting, under present circ.u.mstances, as this yellow winding road--the way of approach of either friend or foe.

But for the apprehensions belonging to a state of warfare--apprehensions which embitter life in all its hours to women--and, possibly, more than is generally acknowledged, to men--but for the speculations as to who was destined to die, who to fall into the most cruel hands that ever abused their power over a helpless foe (for the French of former wars were not forgotten), and what was to be the lot of those who escaped death and capture--but for these speculations, which were stirring in every woman's heart in all that household, the way of life at Le Zephyr was pleasant enough.

Even poor Genifrede appeared to revive here. She showed more interest in nursing Dessalines than in any previous occupation since the death of her lover. Therese was delighted to afford her the opportunity of feeling herself useful, and permitted herself many a walk in the groves, many an hour of relaxation in the salon, which she would have despised, but for their affording an interest to Genifrede. The three were more than ever drawn together by their new experience of the conduct of the French. Never was sick man more impatient to be strong than Dessalines.

Genifrede regarded him as the pillar of the cause, on account of his uncompromising pa.s.sion for vengeance; and his wife herself counted the days till he could be again abroad at the head of his forces.

When not in attendance upon him, Genifrede spent the hours of daylight at the station on the height. She cared neither for heat nor chill while there, and forgot food and rest; and there was sometimes that in her countenance when she returned, and in the tone of her prophesying about the destruction of the enemy, which caused the whisper to go round that she met her lover there, just under the clouds. Monsieur Pascal-- the rational, sagacious Monsieur Pascal--was of opinion that she believed this herself.

On this station, and other heights which surrounded the mansion, there were other objects of interest than the visitations of the clouds, and the whisperings of the breezes from the depths of the woods. For many days, a constant excitement was caused by the accession of troops. Not only Toussaint's own bands followed him to the post, but three thousand more, on whom he could rely, were spared from his other strong posts in the mountains. Soon after these three thousand, Christophe appeared with such force as could be spared from the garrisons in the north. The officers under Dessalines also, aware that the main struggle, whenever the French would come to an engagement, must be in the Plateaux de la Ravine, drew thither, with the remnants of the force which had suffered defeat in the south-west. Hither, too, came Bellair, with his family, and the little garrison which had fortified and held L'Etoile, till it became necessary to burn and leave it.

Messenger arrived after messenger, to announce these accessions of force; and the whole household poured out upon the heights to see and hear. If it was at noon, the clear music of the wind-instruments floated faintly in the still air; if the morning or evening breezes were abroad the harmony came in gushes; and the shouts of greeting and reception were plainly distinguishable, and were responded to involuntarily by all at Le Zephyr but the two prisoners. Under the impulse of the moment, no voice was louder or more joyous than Vincent's. It now only remained for Maurepas to bring his numerous troops up to the point of junction. He must presently arrive; and then, as Placide and other sanguine young soldiers thought, and as Sabes and his companion began seriously to fear, the negro force under L'Ouverture might defy all Europe.

News, stirring news, came from all corners of the colony with every fresh arrival. Deesha, especially, could tell all that had been done, not only at L'Etoile, and in all the plain of Cul-de-Sac, but within the districts of the unfaithful generals, Clerveaux and La Plume. Her boy Juste, though too young to take a practical part in the war, carried the pa.s.sion and energy of a man into the cause, and was versed in all the details of the events which had taken place since the landing of the French. It was a sore mortification to Juste that he was not permitted to remain by his father's side at the Plateaux; but he consoled himself with teaching his little brother Tobie the military exercise, and with sport. Juste was as fond of sport as on the day when he floated under calabashes, to catch wild ducks; and this was well; for at Le Zephyr, under present circ.u.mstances, the sportsman was one of the most useful members of the establishment. The air of the mornes was celebrated for its power of creating an appet.i.te; and there were many mouths to feed: so that Juste was a.s.sured, on all hands, that he had as important a function to fulfil as if he had been a soldier. As it was believed impossible for human foot to stray beyond the morne by any other pa.s.sage than that of the Plateaux, the boys were permitted to be out early and late, in the woods and upon the hill-sides; and often did Genifrede and the sentries hear the far-off shouts of the little sportsmen, or see the puff of smoke from Juste's rifle in the valley, or under the verge of the groves. Many a nest of young orioles did Tobie abstract from the last fork of a branch, when the peculiar note of the parent-bird led him on into the midst of the thicket where these delicate creatures hide themselves. The ring-tail dove, one of the most exquisite of table luxuries, he was very successful in liming; and he would bring home a dozen in a morning. He could catch turkeys with a noose, and young pigs to barbecue. He filled baskets with plover's eggs from the high lands; and of the wild-fowl he brought in, there was no end. In the midst of these feats, he engaged for far greater things in a little while--when the soldier-crabs should make their annual march down the mountains, on their way to the sea. In those days, Tobie promised the tables at Le Zephyr should groan under the profusion of savoury soups, which should banish for the season the salt beef and salt-fish which, meantime, formed part of the daily diet of the household.

While his little brother was thus busy with smaller game, Juste was indulging a higher ambition. When nothing better was to be had, he could condescend to plovers and pigeons; but he liked better to bring down a dainty young heifer among the herds of wild cattle, or several head of deer in a day. It was his triumph to return heavily laden, and to go forth again with three or four soldiers, or half-a-dozen servants (whichever could best be spared), to gather up from the hill-sides the fallen game, which he had covered with branches of trees, to keep off hawk and vulture. It was triumph to point out to his aides spot after spot where the bird of prey hovered, seeking in vain for a s.p.a.ce on which to pounce. Amidst these triumphs, Juste was almost satisfied not to be at the Plateau.

Perhaps the heaviest heart among all that household, scarcely excepting Genifrede's, was Madame L'Ouverture's; and yet her chief companions.h.i.+p, strangely enough, was with the one who carried the lightest--Euphrosyne.

It was not exactly settled whether Madame L'Ouverture or Madame Pascal was hostess; and they therefore divided the onerous duties of the office; and Euphrosyne was their handmaid, charmed to be with those she loved best--charmed to be busy in new ways--charmed to hear, from time to time, that she was useful. She useful to the Ouvertures! It was an honour--it was an exquisite pleasure. She was perhaps the first white lady in the island, out of the convent, who had gathered fruits, prepared vegetables, and made sweet dishes with her own hands. Morning after morning the three ladies spent together in domestic occupations, finding that the servants, numerous as they were, could not get through the whole work of hospitality to such a household. Morning after morning they spent in the shaded store-room, amidst the fragrance of fruits and spices. Here the unhappy mother, the anxious wife, opened her heart to the young people; and they consoled and ministered to her as daughters.

"If you are not my daughters," said she, on one of these mornings, "I have none."

"But you will have: they will return to you," said Afra. "Think of them as you did of your sons, when they were at Paris--as absent for a while to gain experience, and sure to return. You will find one of them, perhaps both, as happy on your bosom hereafter as we see your Placide by his father's side."

"How can you say so, Afra? Which of my girls will ever come to me again, as they did at Breda?"

"Genifrede is better," said Euphrosyne; "better since we came here-- better every day: and I should wonder if she were not. No one can long be sullen here."

"Do not be hard, Euphrosyne, my love--'Sullen' is a hard word for my poor, unhappy child."

"Nay, madam; no one can be more sorry for her than I am; as you will find, if you ask Father Gabriel. He will tell you how angry I was with L'Ouverture, how cruel I thought him on that dreadful day. But now, in these stirring times, when our whole world, our little world in the middle of the sea, is to be destroyed, or made free and glorious for ever, I do think it is being sullen to mope on the mountain as she does, and speak to n.o.body, care for n.o.body, but the Dessalines. However, I would not say a word about it, if I were not sure that she is getting better. And if she were growing worse, instead of better, there is nothing that I would not do to help or console her, though I must still think her sullen--not only towards her father here, but--"

And Euphrosyne crossed herself.

"It is hard," sighed Madame L'Ouverture; "it is hard to do all one ought, even in the serious hours of one's prayers. I do try, with my husband's help, when he is here, and from the thought of him when he is absent, to pray, as he desires, for our enemies. But it generally ends (G.o.d forgive me!) in my praying that Bonaparte may be held back from the work of estranging our children from us."

"It can only be for a time," said Afra, again. She could think of no other consolation.

"Those who know best say that everything is for good," continued Margot.

"If so, I wonder whether anyone can foretell what can be the good of a stranger, a man that we have never seen, and who has everything about him to make him great, thrusting himself between us and our children, to take their hearts from us. I asked L'Ouverture to foretell to me how this would be explained; and he put his hand upon my month, and asked me to kneel down, and pray with him that we might have patience to wait G.o.d's own time."

"And could you do so?" asked Euphrosyne, with br.i.m.m.i.n.g eyes.