The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Freedmen's Book, by Lydia Maria Child This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: The Freedmen's Book Author: Lydia Maria Child Release Date: January 3, 2012 [EBook #38479] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FREEDMEN'S BOOK *** Produced by Suzanne Shell, Henry Flower and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

[i]

THE



FREEDMEN'S BOOK. By L. MARIA CHILD.

O dark, sad millions,—patiently and dumb

Waiting for God,—your hour, at last, has come,

And Freedom's song

Breaks the long silence of your night of wrong.

John G. Whittier.

BOSTON:

TICKNOR AND FIELDS.

1865.

[ii]

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by

L. MARIA CHILD,

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.





University Press: Welch, Bigelow, & Co.,

Cambridge.



[iii]

TO



THE LOYAL AND BRAVE



CAPTAIN ROBERT SMALL,



Hero of the Steamboat Planter,



THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY



L. MARIA CHILD.



[iv]

TO THE FREEDMEN.

I have prepared this book expressly for you, with the hope that those of you who can read will read it aloud to others, and that all of you will derive fresh strength and courage from this true record of what colored men have accomplished, under great disadvantages.

I have written all the biographies over again, in order to give you as much information as possible in the fewest words. I take nothing for my services; and the book is sold to you at the cost of paper, printing, and binding. Whatever money you pay for any of the volumes will be immediately invested in other volumes to be sent to freedmen in various parts of the country, on the same terms; and whatever money remains in my hands, when the book ceases to sell, will be given to the Freedmen's Aid Association, to be expended in schools for you and your children.

Your old friend,

L. MARIA CHILD.



[v]

Author. Page Ignatius Sancho L. Maria Child 1 Extract from the Tenth Psalm 12 Prejudice Reproved Lydia H. Sigourney 13 Benjamin Banneker L. Maria Child 14 Ethiopia Frances E. W. Harper* 24 The Hour of Freedom William Lloyd Garrison 25 William Boen L. Maria Child 26 Anecdote of General Washington 31 Prayer of the Slave Bernard Barton 32 Toussaint l'Ouverture L. Maria Child 33 The Aspirations of Mingo Mingo, a Slave* 84 Bury Me in a Free Land Frances E. W. Harper* 85 Phillis Wheatley L. Maria Child 86 A Pertinent Question Frederick Douglass* 93 The Works of Providence Phillis Wheatley* 94 The Dying Christian Frances E. W. Harper* 96 Kindness to Animals L. Maria Child 97 James Forten L. Maria Child 101 The Meeting in the Swamp L. Maria Child 104 A Reasonable Request Peter Williams* 110 The Slave Poet George Horton, a Slave* 111 Ratie Mattie Griffith 114 The Kingdom of Christ James Montgomery 123 Progress of Emancipation in the British West Indies L. Maria Child 124 [vi] The Last Night of Slavery James Montgomery 146 Madison Washington L. Maria Child 147 Extract from the Virginia Bill of Rights 154 Praise of Creation George Horton* 155 Frederick Douglass L. Maria Child 156 How the Good Work goes on 176 Dedication Hymn J. M. Whitefield* 177 A Prayer John G. Whittier 178 William and Ellen Crafts L. Maria Child 179 Spring George Horton* 205 The Good Grandmother Harriet Jacobs* 206 The Colored Mother's Prayer 219 William Costin 220 Education of Children L. Maria Child 221 Thank God for Little Children Frances E. W. Harper* 226 Sam and Andy Harriet Beecher Stowe 227 John Brown L. Maria Child 241 The Air of Freedom Frances E. W. Harper* 243 Emancipation in the District of Columbia James Madison Bell* 244 The Laws of Health L. Maria Child 246 President Lincoln's Proclamation of Emancipation Frances E. W. Harper* 250 New-Year's Day on the Islands of South Carolina Charlotte L. Forten* 251 Song of the Negro Boatmen at Port Royal, S. C. John G. Whittier 257 Extract from Speech to Colored People in Charleston Hon. Henry Wilson 259 Extract from Speech to Colored People in Charleston Hon. Judge Kelly 261 Black Tom A Yankee Soldier 263 Letter from a Freedman Jourdon Anderson* 265 Colonel Robert G. Shaw Eliza B. Sedgwick 268 Advice from an Old Friend L. Maria Child 269 Day of Jubilee A. G. Duncan 277

[1]

* The names of the colored authors are marked with an asterisk.

THE FREEDMEN'S BOOK.

IGNATIUS SANCHO.

BY L. MARIA CHILD.

This was the name of a remarkable African, who excited a good deal of interest in his day. His father and mother were stolen from Africa and put on board a slave-ship in 1729, which was one hundred and thirty-six years ago. He was born during the passage, and when the vessel arrived at Carthagena, in South America, he was baptized by the name of Ignatius. His mother died soon after, and his father, seeing no means of escape from slavery, killed himself in a fit of despair. The man who took possession of the little orphan, and claimed to be his master, carried him to England, and gave him to three unmarried sisters who lived at Greenwich. He was then about two years old, a bright, lively, funny little creature. As he grew older, he showed such an inquisitive mind, said so many droll things, and was so full of mischief, that the ladies named him Sancho, after a very comical character in a famous old Spanish novel. He was very eager in the pursuit of knowledge; but this commendable disposition was not approved by the ladies. They thought that all a black servant had occasion to know was how to obey orders, and that it was not necessary or proper for him to learn to read and write. But nature had given Ignatius a very lively[2] mind, and a very susceptible heart, and neither of them could be kept quiet. He early plunged into love affairs, and was always overrunning with fun and frolic. Doubtless he was a great trial to the respectable maiden ladies, who were training him for a servant; and he, on his part, thought them very sour, severe, and disagreeable. Sometimes, when they were angry with him, they reminded him that he had been a slave, and threatened to send him into slavery again. This excited uneasiness in his mind, and kindled resentment.

The Duke of Montagu lived in the neighborhood, and his attention was attracted by the bright, frank countenance of the black boy. He entered into conversation with him occasionally, and was so much struck by his intelligence and wit, that he told the ladies their servant was a remarkable lad, and that his earnest desire to improve his mind ought to be gratified. They persisted in their opinion that knowledge was a very improper and dangerous thing for a black servant. But the Duke introduced him to the Duchess, and they both encouraged him to learn to read and write. They lent him books, and were greatly entertained by his bright remarks concerning what he read.

It was a great grief to Ignatius when the friendly Duke died. He besought the Duchess to receive him into her service, and she consented. He remained in her household as long as she lived. At her death, she left him an annuity of about one hundred and fifty dollars a year; and he had three hundred and fifty dollars, which he had laid up from his wages. He might have made this sum the foundation of a comfortable little property. But nature had made him very full of fun and frolic. He had such lively manners, and uttered so many pleasant jokes,[3] that his company was much sought for. This proved a temptation too strong for him. He accepted invitations to go to taverns, where he gambled away his earnings. He had a great passion for going to the theatre; and his conduct with regard to women was far from being correct.

But he soon saw the error of his ways, and resolved to reform. He went to the Chaplain of Montagu House, and begged to be taken into his service, where he remained several months. The descendants of his old friend, the Duke, encouraged him to persevere in his good resolutions; and when the young Duke saw that he continued sober and industrious, he took him into his employ. By the blessing of the Heavenly Father, another saving influence came to help him into the paths of virtue. He formed a serious attachment for a very worthy young woman from the West Indies, to whom he was soon after married. He remained in the employ of the Duke of Montagu until he was about forty-four years old. Frequent attacks of the gout, and clumsiness resulting from an hereditary tendency to corpulence, rendered him unfit to continue in the service to which he had so long been accustomed. His good friend and patron the Duke assisted him to establish a small shop for groceries. By economy and industry, he and his good wife managed to rear and educate well a numerous family of children.

He always retained his love of learning, and was such a diligent reader, that he was well acquainted with the current literature of that time. He was treated with respect and attention by many intelligent and educated people. Though not so full of fun as he was in his younger days, his conversation was entertaining. The[4] letters he wrote to various persons abound with good sense, and show that he was very affectionate and devoted as a husband and father. He evidently regarded his wife as the best blessing of his life. In one of his letters to a friend he says: "The hot weather does not befriend Mrs. Sancho, but time will, I hope. If true worth could plead exemption from pain and sickness, she would, by right divine, enjoy the best of health." On another occasion he writes: "I can compare her to nothing so properly as a diamond in the dirt. But, my friend, that is Fortune's fault, not mine; for had I the power, I would case her in gold." Years later, he writes: "Dame Sancho would be better in health, if she cared less. I am her barometer. If a sigh escapes me, it is answered by a tear in her eye. I often assume gayety to illume her dear sensibility with a smile, which twenty years ago almost bewitched me, and which still constitutes my highest pleasure. May such be your lot, my friend. What more can friendship wish you than to glide down the stream of time with a partner of congenial principles and fine feelings, whose very looks speak tenderness and sentiment."

After a severe illness he wrote to a friend: "I had excruciating pains and great lack of patience. Mrs. Sancho had a week of it. Gout did not sweeten my temper. It was washing week, and she had to attend the shop. God bless her, and reward her. She is good; good in heart, good in principle, good by habit."

The children appear to have been the delight of his heart. He called them "Sanchonettas," which would be the Italian way of saying Little Sanchos. He was never tired of describing their little winning ways. At the end of a letter to one of his friends he wrote: "Lydia[5] trots about amazingly; and Kitty imitates her, with this addition, that she is as mischievous as a monkey." But little William, his youngest, was evidently his pet. To another of his friends he wrote: "You cannot imagine what hold little Billy gets of me. He grows, he prattles, every day he learns something new. The rogue is fond of me to excess. By his good-will he would be always in the shop with me. The little monkey! He clings round my legs; and if I chide him, or look sour, he holds up his little mouth to kiss me."

Ignatius Sancho had a very kind heart. It hurt his feelings very much to see any animal tormented. He tried to get some laws passed to prevent cruel market-men from abusing their donkeys; and he always tried to be a friend to everybody that was in distress. In one of his letters he says: "The joy of giving and of making happy is almost the attribute of a god. There is as much sweetness conveyed to the senses by doing a right good-natured deed as our frame can consistently bear."

Such a disposition is better than a remarkable intellect. But he had a quick intellect also, and generally took sensible views of things. Writing to a young colored friend, who had been somewhat wild, he says:—

"Look round upon the miserable fate of almost all of our unfortunate color. See slavery added to ignorance. See the contempt of the very wretches who roll in affluence from our labors. Hear the ill-bred, heart-racking abuse of the ignorant vulgar. If you tread as cautiously as the strictest rectitude can guide you, you must suffer from this. But if you are armed with truth and conscious integrity, you will be sure of the plaudits and countenance of the good.

"You are a happy lad. You have kind benefactors,[6] to whom you ought to look up with reverence, and humbly beg the Almighty to give you strength to imitate them in doing good. Your parts are as quick as most men's. If you urge your speed in the race of virtue with the same zeal you have exhibited in error, you will recover, to the satisfaction of your noble patrons, and to the glory of yourself.

"Some philosopher, whose name I forget, wished for a window in his breast, that the world might see his heart. I recommend him to your imitation. Vice is a coward. To be truly brave, a man must be truly good. You hate the name of cowardice; then detest a lie and shun liars. Be above revenge. If others have taken advantage either of your guilt or your distress, punish them only with forgiveness; and if you can serve them at any future time, do it.

"I sincerely congratulate thee upon thy repentance. It is thy birthday to real happiness."

To one of the white gentlemen who liked to correspond with him, he wrote:—

"There is something so amazingly grand and affecting in contemplating the works of the Divine Architect, either in the moral or the intellectual world, that I think one may rightly call it the cordial of the soul, the best antidote against pride and discontent. The friendly warmth of that glorious planet the sun, the leniency of the air, the cheerful glow of the atmosphere, make me involuntarily cry, 'Lord, what is man, that thou, in thy mercy, art so mindful of him? or what is the son of man, that thou so parentally carest for him?'

"Sometimes, when I endeavor to turn my thoughts inward, to review the powers or properties the indulgent all-wise Father has endowed me with, I am struck with[7] wonder and with awe; poor, insignificant worm as I am, in comparison with superior beings, mortal like myself. At the head of our riches I reckon the power of reflection. Where doth it lie? Search every member, from the toe to the nose,—they are all ready for action, but they are all dead to thought. It is that breath of life which the Sacred Architect breathed into the nostrils of the first man. We feel and acknowledge it, but it is quite past the power of definition. Then to think of the promise of never-ending existence! To rise, perhaps, by regular progression from planet to planet, to behold the wonders of immensity, to pass from good to better, increasing in goodness, in knowledge, in love. To glory in our Redeemer, to joy in ourselves, to be acquainted with prophets, sages, heroes, and poets of old times, and to join in the symphony with angels."

To a white young friend, who had obtained a situation in India, he wrote:—

"It is with sincere pleasure I hear you have a lucrative establishment. Your good sense will naturally lead you to a proper economy, as distant from frigid parsimony as from heedless extravagance. As you may have some time for recreation, give me leave to obtrude my poor advice. I have heard it more than once observed of fortunate adventurers, that they come home rich in purse, but wretchedly barren in intellect. My dear Jack, the mind wants food as well as the stomach. Why, then, should not one wish to increase in knowledge as well as in money? The poet Young says,—

'Books are fair Virtue's advocates and friends.'

My advice to you is, to lay by something every year to buy a little library. You have to thank God for strong natural parts; you have a feeling, humane heart; you[8] write with sense and discernment. Improve yourself, my dear Jack. Then if it should please God to return you to your friends with a fortune, the embellishments of your mind may be ever considered as greatly superior to your riches, and only inferior to the goodness of your heart. This is a good old adage: 'A few books and a few friends, and those well chosen.'"

The same young friend wrote a letter to his father, from Bombay, in India, in which he wrote: "The inhabitants here, who are chiefly blacks, are a set of canting, deceitful people, of whom one must have great caution."

Ignatius Sancho was always ready to defend the despised and the oppressed, and his sympathy was all the more lively if they were of his own color. He at once wrote to his young friend:—

"In one of your letters to your father, you speak with honest indignation of the treachery and chicanery of the natives of India. My good friend, you should remember from whom they learned those vices. The first visitors from Christian countries found them a simple, harmless people. But the cursed avidity for wealth urged those first visitors, and all the succeeding ones, to such acts of deception and wanton cruelty, that the poor, ignorant natives soon learned their knavish arts, and turned them upon their teachers. As a resident of your country, Old England, I love it. I love it for its freedom. For the many blessings I enjoy in it England shall ever have my warmest wishes, prayers, and blessings. But I must observe, and I say it with reluctance, that the conduct of your country has been uniformly wicked in the East Indies, in the West Indies, and on the coast of Guinea. The grand object of English navigators, and indeed of all the navigators of Christian nations, has been money, money,[9] money. Commerce was meant by the goodness of Deity to diffuse the various goods of the earth into every part; to unite mankind with the blessed bonds of brotherly love and mutual dependence. Enlightened Christians should diffuse the riches of the Gospel of Peace together with the commodities of their respective lands. If commerce were attended with strict honesty and religion for companions, it would be a blessing to every shore it touched at.

"The poor wretched Africans are blessed with a most fertile and luxuriant soil; but they are rendered miserable by what Providence meant for a blessing. The abominable traffic in slaves, and the horrid cruelty and treachery of the petty kings, is encouraged by their Christian customers. They carry them strong liquors, powder, and bad fire-arms to inflame them to madness, and to furnish them with the hellish means of killing and kidnapping. It is a subject that sours my blood. I mention these things to guard my friend from being too hasty in condemning a people who have been made much worse by their Christian visitors.

"Wherever thou residest, make human nature thy study. Whatever may be the religion or the complexion of men, study their hearts. Let simplicity, kindness, and charity be thy guides; and with these, even savages will respect you, while God will bless you."

The writings of the Rev. Laurence Sterne, who was living in England at that time, were well calculated to inspire humanity toward animals and kindly feelings toward the poor. These writings were very popular, and two of the characters conspicuous in them, called Uncle Toby and Corporal Trim, were great favorites with the public. Ignatius Sancho especially delighted in the writings of Sterne; and in 1776, when he was about[10] forty-seven years old, he addressed a letter to him as follows:—

"Reverend Sir,—It would perhaps look like an insult upon your humanity to apologize for the liberty I am taking. I am one of those people whom the vulgar and illiberal call 'Negurs.' The first part of my life was rather unlucky, as I was placed in a family who judged ignorance to be the best and only security for obedience. By unwearied application I got a little reading and writing. Through God's blessing, the latter part of my life has been truly fortunate, for I have spent it in the service of one of the best families in the kingdom. My chief pleasure has been books. How very much, good sir, am I, among millions, indebted to you for the character of your amiable Uncle Toby! I declare I would walk ten miles, in dog-days, to shake hands with the honest Corporal. Your sermons have touched me to the heart, and I hope have amended it. In your tenth discourse I find this very affecting passage: 'Consider how great a part of our species, in all ages, down to this, have been trodden under the feet of cruel and capricious tyrants, who would neither hear their cries nor pity their distresses. Consider Slavery, what a bitter draught it is, and how many millions are made to drink of it.' "I am sure you will forgive me if I beseech you to give some attention to Slavery, as it is practised at this day in the West Indies. That subject, handled in your striking manner, would perhaps ease the yoke of many; but if only of one, what a feast for a benevolent heart! and sure I am, you are an Epicurean[1] in acts of charity.[11] You, who are universally read and as universally admired, could not fail. Dear sir, think that in me you behold the uplifted hands of thousands of my brother Moors. You pathetically observe that grief is eloquent. Figure to yourself their attitudes, hear their supplications, and you cannot refuse."

Mr. Sterne wrote the following reply:—

"There is a strange coincidence, Sancho, in the little events of this world, as well as the great ones. I had been writing a tender tale of the sorrows of a poor, friendless negro girl, and my eyes had scarce done smarting with it, when your letter, in behalf of so many of her brethren and sisters, came to me. But why her brethren or your brethren, Sancho, any more than mine? It is by the finest tints, and the most insensible gradations, that nature descends from the fairest face to the sootiest complexion. At which of these tints are the ties of blood to cease? and how many shades lower in the scale must we descend, ere mercy is to vanish with them? "It is no uncommon thing, my good Sancho, for one half of the world to use the other half like brutes, and then endeavor to make them so. For my part, I never look Westward, when I am in a pensive mood, without thinking of the burdens our brothers and sisters are there carrying. If I could ease their shoulders from one ounce of them, I declare I would this hour set out upon a pilgrimage to Mecca for their sakes. It casts a sad shade upon the world, that so great a part of it are, and have so long been, bound in chains of darkness and chains of misery. I cannot but respect you and felicitate you, that by so much laudable diligence you have broken the[12] chains of darkness, and that by falling into the hands of so good and merciful a family, you have been rescued by Providence from the chains of misery. "And so, good-hearted Sancho, adieu. Believe me, I will not forget your letter. "Yours,

"Laurence Sterne."



The last sickness of Ignatius Sancho was very painful, but he was tenderly cared for by his good wife. He was fifty-two years old when he died. After his death, a small volume was published, containing a number of his letters, some articles he had written for newspapers, and an engraved likeness of him, which looks very bright and good-natured. The book was published by subscription, in which a large number of the English nobility and some distinguished literary men joined.

EXTRACT FROM THE TENTH PSALM.

"The wicked in his pride doth persecute the poor. He hath said in his heart, God hath forgotten; He hideth his face; He will never see it. Thou hast seen it; for thou beholdest mischief and spite, to requite it with thy hand. The poor committeth himself unto thee; thou art the helper of the fatherless. Lord, thou hast heard the desire of the humble. Thou wilt cause thine ear to hear; thou wilt prepare their heart to judge the fatherless and the oppressed, that the man of the earth may no more oppress."

[13]

PREJUDICE REPROVED.

BY LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY.

God gave to Afric's sons

A brow of sable dye;

And spread the country of their birth

Beneath a burning sky.



With a cheek of olive He made

The little Hindoo child;

And darkly stained the forest tribes,

That roam our Western wild.



To me He gave a form

Of fairer, whiter clay;

But am I, therefore, in his sight,

Respected more than they?



No;—'tis the hue of deeds and thoughts

He traces in his book;

'Tis the complexion of the heart

On which He deigns to look.



Not by the tinted cheek,

That fades away so fast,

But by the color of the soul,

We shall be judged at last.



[14]

BENJAMIN BANNEKER.

BY L. MARIA CHILD.

This remarkable man was born near the village of Ellicott's Mills, Baltimore County, Maryland, in 1732. That was one hundred and thirty-three years ago, when there were very few schools and very few books in this country, and when it was not as easy as it now is for even white people to obtain a tolerably good education. His parents were both black, and though they were free, they were too poor to do much for their bright boy. They sent him to a school in the neighborhood, where he learned reading and writing and a little of arithmetic.

His father was a slave at the time of his marriage, but his wife was a free woman; and she was so energetic and industrious, that she soon earned money enough to buy his freedom. Then they worked together, and earned enough to buy a few acres of land, and build a small cabin.

Benjamin was obliged to labor diligently when he was at home from school, but every spare moment he could catch he was ciphering, and planning how to make things. As his parents grew old, he had to work early and late, to support himself and help them. His mother always continued active enough to do the in-door work. When she was seventy years old, if she wanted to catch a chicken she would run it down without appearing to be tired. The place was thinly peopled, and the few neighbors they had took no particular notice of Benjamin,[15] though he had the name of being a bright, industrious lad. His hands worked hard, but his brain was always busy. He was particularly fond of arithmetic, and was always working out sums in his head. He took notice of everything around him, observed how everything was made, and never forgot one word of what he had learned at school. In this way, he came to have more knowledge than most of his white neighbors; and they began to say to one another, "That black Ben is a smart fellow. He can make anything he sets out to; and how much he knows! I wonder where he picked it all up."

At thirty years old, he made a clock, which proved an excellent timepiece. He had never seen a clock, for nobody in that region had such an article; but he had seen a watch, and it occupied his thoughts very much. It seemed to him such a curious little machine, that he was very desirous to make something like it. The watch was made of gold and silver and steel; but Benjamin Banneker had only wood for material, and the rudest kind of tools to work with. It was a long while before he could make the hand that marked the hours, and the hand that marked the minutes, and the hand that marked the seconds, correspond exactly in their motions; but by perseverance he succeeded at last. He was then about thirty years old. This was the first clock ever made in this country. It kept time exactly, and people began to talk about it as a wonderful thing for a man to do without instruction. After a while, the Ellicott family, who owned the Mills, heard of it, and went to see it. Mr. Elias Ellicott, a merchant in Baltimore, became very much interested in the self-taught machinist. He lent him a number of books, among which were some on astronomy,—a science which treats of the sun, moon, and[16] stars. Banneker was so interested in this new knowledge that he could think of nothing else. He sat up all night to watch the planets, and to make calculations about their motions. Mr. Ellicott went to see him to explain to him how to use some of the tables for calculations contained in the books he had lent him; but he found, to his great surprise, that the earnest student had studied them all out himself, and had no need of help. It was not long before he could calculate when the sun or the moon would be eclipsed, and at what time every star would rise and set. He was never known to make a mistake in any of his astronomical calculations; and he became so exact, that he pointed out two mistakes made by celebrated astronomers in Europe.

In order to pursue his favorite studies without interruption, he sold the land which his parents had left him, and bought an annuity with the money, on which he lived in the little cabin where he was born. He was so temperate and frugal, that he needed very little to support him; and when it was necessary to have more than his annuity, he could always earn something by going out to work. But, as he was no longer seen in the fields late and early, his ignorant white neighbors began to talk against him. They peeped into his cabin and saw him asleep in the daytime. They did not know that he had been awake all night watching the stars, and ciphering out his calculations. In fact, they did not know that the planets moved at all; and if he had told them that he could calculate their movements exactly, they would only have laughed at him. I suppose they felt some ill-will toward him because he was black, and yet knew so much more than they did; and perhaps it excited their envy that the Ellicott family and other educated gentlemen liked to[17] go to his cabin and talk with him about his studies and observations.

But Banneker was wise enough not to enter into any quarrels because they called him a lazy, good-for-nothing fellow. He endeavored to live in such a way that they could not help respecting him. He was always kind and generous, ready to oblige everybody, and not at all inclined to boast of his superiority.

When he was fifty-nine years old, he made an Almanac. It is a very difficult job to calculate all about the changes of the moon, and the rising and ebbing of the tides, and at what time the sun will rise and set every day, all the year round; and it was a much more difficult task then than it is now; because now there is a great improvement in astronomical books and instruments. But notwithstanding Banneker's limited means and scanty education, he made an excellent Almanac. It was published by Goddard and Angell of Baltimore. In a Preface, they say: "We feel gratified to have an opportunity of presenting to the public, through our press, what must be considered an extraordinary effort of genius,—a complete and accurate Ephemeris[2] for the year 1792, calculated by a sable son of Africa. It has met the approbation of several of the most distinguished astronomers of America; and we hope a philanthropic public will give their support to the work, not only on account of its intrinsic merit, but from a desire to controvert the long-established illiberal prejudice against the blacks."

This was the first Almanac ever made in this country. It contained much useful information of a general nature, and interesting selections in prose and verse. Before it [18]was printed, Banneker sent a manuscript copy, in his own handwriting, to Thomas Jefferson, then Secretary of State, and afterward President of the United States. After apologizing for the liberty he took in addressing a person whose station was so far above his own, he says:—

"Those of my complexion have long been considered rather brutish than human,—scarcely capable of mental endowments. But, in consequence of the reports that have reached me, I hope I may safely admit that you are measurably friendly and well-disposed toward us. I trust that you agree with me in thinking that one Universal Father hath given being to us all; that He has not only made us all of one flesh, but has also, without partiality, afforded us all the same sensations, and endowed us all with the same faculties; and that, however various we may be in society or religion, however diversified in situation or color, we are all of the same family, and all stand in the same relation to Him. Now, sir, if this is founded in truth, I apprehend you will readily embrace every opportunity to eradicate the absurd and false ideas and opinions which so generally prevail with respect to us. "Suffer me, sir, to recall to your mind, that when the tyranny of the British crown was exerted to reduce you to servitude, your abhorrence thereof was so excited, that you publicly held forth this true and invaluable doctrine, worthy to be recorded and remembered in all succeeding ages: 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, and that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.' "Your tender feelings for yourselves engaged you thus to declare. You were then impressed with proper ideas[19] of the great value of Liberty, and the free possession of those blessings to which you were entitled by nature. But, sir, how pitiable it is to reflect that, although you were so fully convinced of the benevolence of the Father of mankind, and of his equal and impartial distribution of those rights and privileges which He had conferred upon them, that you should at the same time counteract his mercies in detaining, by fraud and violence, so numerous a part of my brethren under groaning captivity and cruel oppression; that you should at the same time be found guilty of that most criminal act which you detested in others with respect to yourselves. "Sir, I freely and most cheerfully acknowledge that I am of the African race; and in that color which is natural to them I am of the deepest dye. But, with a sense of most profound gratitude to the Supreme Ruler of the universe, I confess that I am not under that state of tyrannical thraldom and inhuman captivity to which so many of my brethren are doomed. I have abundantly tasted of those blessings which proceed from that free and unequalled liberty with which you are favored. "Sir, I suppose your knowledge of the situation of my brethren is too extensive for it to need a recital here. Neither shall I presume to prescribe methods by which they may be relieved, otherwise than by recommending to you and others to wean yourselves from those narrow prejudices you have imbibed with respect to them, and to do as Job proposed to his friends,—'Put your souls in their souls' stead.' Thus shall your hearts be enlarged with kindness and benevolence toward them, and you will need neither the direction of myself nor others in what manner to proceed. "I took up my pen to direct to you, as a present, a [20]copy of an Almanac I have calculated for the succeeding year. I ardently hope that your candor and generosity will plead with you in my behalf. Sympathy and affection for my brethren has caused my enlargement thus far; it was not originally my design. "The Almanac is the production of my arduous study. I have long had unbounded desires to become acquainted with the secrets of Nature, and I have had to gratify my curiosity herein through my own assiduous application to astronomical study; in which I need not recount to you the many difficulties and disadvantages I have had to encounter. I conclude by subscribing myself, with the most profound respect, your most humble servant, "B. Banneker."



To this letter Jefferson made the following reply:—

"Sir,—I thank you sincerely for your letter, and for the Almanac it contained. Nobody wishes more than I do to see such proofs as you exhibit that Nature has given to our black brethren talents equal to those of the other colors of men, and that the appearance of a want of them is owing only to the degraded condition of their existence, both in Africa and America. I can add, with truth, that no one wishes more ardently to see a good system commenced for raising the condition, both of their body and mind, to what it ought to be, as fast as the imbecility of their present existence, and other circumstances which cannot be neglected, will admit. I have taken the liberty of sending your Almanac to Monsieur Condorcet, Secretary of the Academy of Sciences at Paris, and to members of the Philanthropic Society, because I considered it a document to which your whole color had a right, for their justification against the doubts which have been [21]entertained of them. I am, with great esteem, sir, your most obedient servant, "Thomas Jefferson."



In 1803, Mr. Jefferson invited the astronomer to visit him at Monticello, but the increasing infirmities of age made it imprudent to undertake the journey. His Almanacs sold well for ten years, and the income, added to his annuity, gave him a very comfortable support; and what was a still greater satisfaction to him was the consciousness of doing something to help the cause of his oppressed people, by proving to the world that Nature had endowed them with good capacities.

After 1802 he found himself too old to calculate any more Almanacs, but as long as he lived he continued to be deeply interested in his various studies.

He was well informed on many other subjects besides arithmetic and astronomy. He was a great reader of history; and he kept a Journal, which shows that he was a close observer of the vegetable world, of the habits of insects, and of the operations of Nature in general. That his busy mind drew inferences from what he observed is evident from the following entry in his Journal:—

"Standing at my door to-day, I heard the discharge of a gun, and in four or five seconds of time the small shots came rattling about me, which plainly demonstrates that the velocity of sound is greater than that of a common bullet."

After the Constitution of the United States was adopted, in 1789, commissioners were appointed to determine the boundaries of the District of Columbia. They invited Banneker to be present and assist them in running the lines; and he was treated by them with[22] as much respect as if he had been of their own color. His Almanacs were much praised by scientific men, and they often visited him in his humble little cabin. But these attentions never made him pert and vain. He rejoiced in his abilities and acquisitions, because he thought they might help to raise the condition of his oppressed brethren; but he always remained modest and unobtrusive in his manners.

He died in 1804, in the seventy-second year of his age. His friend, Mr. Benjamin H. Ellicott, collected various facts concerning him, which have been published. In a letter on this subject, Mr. Ellicott says: "During the whole of his long life he lived respectably, and was much esteemed by all who became acquainted with him; more especially by those who could fully appreciate his genius and the extent of his acquirements. His mode of life was extremely regular and retired. Having never married, he lived alone, cooking his own victuals and washing his own clothes. He was scarcely ever absent from home, yet there was nothing misanthropic in his character. A gentleman who knew him speaks of him thus: 'I recollect him well. He was a brave-looking, pleasant man, with something very noble in his appearance. His mind was evidently much engrossed in his calculations, but he was glad to receive the visits we often paid him.' Another writes: 'When I was a boy, I became very much interested in him. His manners were those of a perfect gentleman. He was kind, generous, hospitable, humane, dignified, and pleasing. He abounded in information on all the various subjects and incidents of the day, was very modest and unassuming, and delighted in society at his own house. Go there when you would, by day or night, there was constantly[23] in the middle of the floor a large table covered with books and papers. As he was an eminent mathematician, he was constantly in correspondence with other mathematicians in this country, with whom there was an interchange of questions of difficult solution. His head was covered with thick white hair, which gave him a venerable appearance. His dress was uniformly of superfine drab broadcloth, made in the old style of a plain coat with strait collar, a long waistcoat, and a broad-brimmed hat. His color was not jet black, but decidedly negro. In size and personal appearance he bore a strong resemblance to the statue of Benjamin Franklin, at the Library in Philadelphia.'"

The good which Banneker did to the cause of his colored brethren did not cease with his life. When the Abbe Gregoire pleaded for emancipation in France, and when Wilberforce afterward labored for the same cause in England, the abilities and character of the black astronomer were brought forward as an argument against the enslavement of his race; and, from that day to this, the friends of freedom have quoted him everywhere as a proof of the mental capacity of Africans.

"They found them slaves! but who that title gave?

The God of Nature never formed a slave!

Though fraud or force acquire a master's name,

Nature and justice must remain the same;—

Nature imprints upon whate'er we see,

That has a heart and life in it, BE FREE!"

Cowper.

[24]

BY FRANCES E. W. HARPER.

Yes, Ethiopia yet shall stretch

Her bleeding hands abroad;

Her cry of agony shall reach

Up to the throne of God.

The tyrant's yoke from off her neck,

His fetters from her soul,

The mighty hand of God shall break,

And spurn the base control.

Redeemed from dust and freed from chains,

Her sons shall lift their eyes;

From cloud-capt hills and verdant plains

Shall shouts of triumph rise.

Upon her dark, despairing brow

Shall play a smile of peace;

For God shall bend unto her woe,

And bid her sorrows cease.

'Neath sheltering vines and stately palms

Shall laughing children play,

And aged sires with joyous psalms

Shall gladden every day.

[25]

Secure by night, and blest by day,

Shall pass her happy hours;

Nor human tigers hunt for prey

Within her peaceful bowers.

Then, Ethiopia, stretch, O stretch

Thy bleeding hands abroad!

Thy cry of agony shall reach

And find redress from God.



BY WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON.

The hour of freedom! come it must.

O hasten it, in mercy, Heaven!

When all who grovel in the dust

Shall stand erect, their fetters riven;

When glorious freedom shall be won

By every caste, complexion, clime;

When tyranny shall be o'erthrown,

And color cease to be a crime.



[26]

WILLIAM BOEN.

BY L. MARIA CHILD.

William Boen was born in 1735, one hundred and thirty years ago. He was the slave of a man who lived near Mount Holly, in New Jersey. His master and most of the neighbors belonged to the Society of Friends, commonly called Quakers. That Society made it a rule that none of their members should hold a slave, long before the people of any other sect were convinced that slavery was wrong. But at the time William Boen was born some of the Quakers did hold slaves, though many of their members were preaching against it.

They were a very friendly and conscientious people, and as William grew up among them he naturally imbibed many of their ideas. However, like most boys, he did not think very seriously about religion, until the importance of it was impressed upon his mind by the following circumstance. In the time of the old French war, when he was a mere lad, his master sent him into the woods to cut down trees. The Indians were fighting on the side of the French, and they often killed the Americans. Some of them came into the neighborhood of Mount Holly; and when he went home at night, after his day's work in the woods, he would often hear that Indians had been lurking about in the neighborhood, and that somebody had been shot by their sharp arrows. This made him very much afraid to work alone in the woods.[27] He was always thinking that Indians might be hidden among the bushes; and if a bird flew off her nest it sounded to him like the whizzing of an arrow. It was very still in the forest, and it seemed very solemn to look up at the sky through the tall trees. William thought to himself, "What if the Indians should kill me before I have any time to think about it? Am I fit to die?" He thought he was not fit to die, and he longed earnestly to know what he ought to do to become fit to die. He had heard the Quakers talk about a light which God had placed in the soul, to show men what was wrong. And he said it went through his mind "like a flaming sword," that if he would be fit to die he must follow this inward light in every particular, even in the most trifling things. So he began to be very thoughtful about every action of his life; and if he felt uneasy about anything he was tempted to do, he said to himself, "This is the inward light, showing me that the thing is wrong. I will not do it." Pursuing this course, he became careful not to do anything which did not bring peace to his soul; and as the soul can never be peaceful when it disobeys God, he was continually travelling toward Zion while he strove to follow this inward light in his soul; and the more humbly he tried to follow it, the clearer the light became. He did not always keep in the straight path. Sometimes he did or said something wrong; then peace went away from his mind. But he confessed his sin before God, and prayed for strength not to do wrong any more. By humility and obedience he again found the path of peace. Religion comes in many different ways to human souls. This was the way it came to William Boen.

All who knew him saw that his religious feeling was deep and sincere, for it brought forth fruit in his daily[28] life. He never made others unhappy by indulging freaks of temper. He was extremely temperate, scrupulously honest, and very careful never to say anything but the exact truth. His character was so excellent that all the neighbors respected and trusted him. Many said it was a shame to keep him in slavery, and his master became uneasy about it. People said to him, from time to time, "William, thy master talks of letting thee be free." He heard it so often, that it became an old story, and he thought nothing would ever come of it. But one day his master was walking with him as he went to his work in the fields, and suddenly he inquired whether he would like to be free. William was silent for a while, and then began to talk about the work he was to do. But the question dwelt on his mind and excited his hopes. He told one of his friends about it, and when he was asked, "What didst thou say, William?" he replied, "I did not say anything; for I thought he might know I would like to be free."

When he was nearly twenty-eight years old his master offered to make a contract with him by which he could obtain his freedom. He was soon after married to a worthy young woman, and by industry and strict economy they were able in a few years to buy a few acres of land, and build a comfortable house. He led a peaceful and diligent life, doing good to others whenever he could, and harming no one. His conscience was extremely tender. He would never eat anything made of sugar manufactured by slaves, and he never would wear any garments made of cotton raised by slave labor. He thought Slavery was so wrong, that he did not feel easy to connect himself with it, even in the remotest degree.

He was equally scrupulous about telling the truth.[29] One of his neighbors, a rich white man, was very much in the habit of borrowing his tools. One day, when he had been using his grindstone, he thanked him for it, and William answered, in the customary way, "Thou art welcome." But soon he began to ask himself, "Was that the exact truth?" His mind was troubled by doubts about it, and finally he went to his neighbor, and said, "When I told thee thou wert welcome, I spoke mere complimentary words, according to custom; for the truth is, I do honestly think thou art better able to have a grindstone of thy own, than I am."

He had also a very nice sense of justice with regard to the rights of property. Nothing would induce him to use what belonged to another person without first obtaining leave. One day, when he was mowing in the meadows, he accidentally killed a fat partridge with his scythe. The other workmen advised him to take it home for his wife to roast. But he replied, "Nay, the partridge does not belong to me, it belongs to the owner of the meadow." Accordingly he carried it to his employer. Another time, when he was working with others in the woods, they found an empty cabin, wherein they stowed their provisions, and lodged for a fortnight, till they had finished cutting the timber. After William returned home he took an early opportunity to tell the owner of the cabin what he had done, and to offer payment for the accommodation.

He constantly attended Quaker meetings, and followed their peculiar customs in dress and language; but he was not admitted into full membership with that religious society till he was nearly eighty years old, though he had made application to join it thirty years before.

He was scrupulously neat in his person. His linen[30] was always very white, and his light drab-colored clothes showed no speck of dirt. He wore his beard long, and as he grew old it became very white; his curly hair also was white as snow. His dark face was very conspicuous in the midst of all this whiteness, and gave him an odd appearance. But he had such a friendly, pleasant expression of countenance, and there was so much modest dignity in his manners, that he inspired respect. A stranger once said to one of his wealthy neighbors, "I wonder that boys and giddy young folks don't ridicule that old black man, his dress and appearance are so very peculiar." The neighbor replied, "William Boen is a religious man, and everybody respects him. The light-minded are so much impressed by his well-known character, that they are restrained from making fun of his singular appearance."

He died in his ninetieth year; not from any disease, but the mere weakness of old age. His faculties were clear, and his mind serene and cheerful to the last. He spoke of his approaching death with the greatest composure; saying that he had no wish about the manner of his exit from this life, that he was resigned to the Divine will in all things.

One of the last things he said was, "I am glad to see that the feeling against slavery is growing among the Society of Friends. Once I felt as if I was alone in my testimony against that wicked system."

After his death, the Society of Friends at Mount Holly wrote a Memorial concerning his character, which was read in their Yearly Meeting. It concluded thus: "In early life, he was concerned 'to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with his God.' By close attention to the light of Christ within, he was enabled, not[31] only to bear many precious testimonies faithfully to the end of his days, but also to bring forth those fruits of the spirit which redound to the glory of God and the salvation of the soul. As he lived, so he died,—a rare pattern of a self-denying follower of Christ. 'Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright; for the end of that man is peace.'"

ANECDOTE OF GENERAL WASHINGTON.

During the war of the Revolution, Primus Hall was the colored servant of Colonel Pickering, with whom General Washington often held long consultations. One night, finding they must be engaged till late, he proposed to sleep in the Colonel's tent, provided there was a spare blanket and straw. Primus, who was always eager to oblige the Commander-in-Chief, said, "Plenty of straw and blankets."

When the long conference was ended, the two officers lay down to rest on the beds he had prepared. When he saw they were asleep, he seated himself on a box, and, leaning his head on his hand, tried to take as comfortable a nap as he could. General Washington woke in the night, and seeing him nodding there, called out, "Primus!" The servant started to his feet, and exclaimed, "What do you wish for, General?"

"You told me you had plenty of straw and blankets," replied Washington; "but I see you are sitting up all night for the sake of giving me your bed."

"It is no matter about me," rejoined Primus.

"Yes, it is," replied General Washington. "If one of us must sit up, I will take my turn. But there is no need of that. The blanket is wide enough for two. Come and lie down with me."

Primus, who reverenced the Commander-in-Chief as he did no other mortal, protested against it. But Washington threw open the blanket, and said, "Come and lie down, I tell you! There is room enough for both, and I insist upon it."

The tone was too resolute to admit of further parley, and the General and his colored friend slept comfortably under the same blanket till morning.

[32]

PRAYER OF THE SLAVE.

BY BERNARD BARTON.

O Father of the human race!

The white, the black, the bond, the free,

Thanks for thy gift of heavenly grace,

Vouchsafed through Jesus Christ to me.

This, 'mid oppression's every wrong,

Has borne my sinking spirits up;

Made sorrow joyful, weakness strong,

And sweetened Slavery's bitter cup.

Hath not a Saviour's dying hour

Made e'en the yoke of thraldom light?

Hath not thy Holy Spirit's power

Made bondage freedom? darkness bright?

Thanks then, O Father! for the gift

Which through thy Gospel thou hast given,

Which thus from bonds and earth can lift

The soul to liberty and heaven.

But not the less I mourn their shame,

Who, mindless of thy gracious will,

Call on the holy Father's name,

Yet keep their brethren bondmen still.

Forgive them, Lord! for Jesus' sake;

And when the slave thou hast unbound,

The chains which bind the oppressor break!

Thus be thy love's last triumph crowned.

[33]

TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE.

"Everywhere thy name shall be

Redeemed from color's infamy;

And men shall learn to speak of thee

As one of earth's great spirits, born

In servitude and nursed in scorn,

Casting aside the weary weight

And fetters of its low estate,

In that strong majesty of soul

Which knows no color, tongue, or clime,

Which still hath spurned the base control

Of tyrants, through all time."

John G. Whittier.

On the western coast of Africa, a tribe called the Arradas are said to be superior to most of the other tribes in intelligence and strength of will. The son of their chief, named Gaou-Guinou, was seized by a prowling band of slave-traders, one day when he was out hunting. He was packed in the hold of a European ship, with a multitude of other unfortunate victims, and carried to the island of Hayti to be sold. This is one of the largest of the West India Islands, and lies between Cuba and Porto Rico. It was first discovered by Spaniards, who found it inhabited by mild-tempered Indians, leading a very simple and happy life. These natives called their island Hayti, which in their language signified a Land of Mountains. A lofty ridge of mountains runs across it, and gives it a solemn, dreary appearance, when seen in the distance. But it is a very beautiful and fertile island. The high, rocky precipices, piled one above another, look down on broad flowery plains, flowing with water, and[34] loaded with tropical fruits. When the Spaniards established a colony there, they introduced the cultivation of sugar, cotton, and coffee, to supply the markets of Europe. They compelled the native Indians to work so hard, and treated them so badly, that the poor creatures died off very fast. Then they sent men in ships to Africa to steal negroes to work for them. They founded a city in the eastern part of the island, and named it St. Domingo; and the whole island came to be called by that name by European nations.

The French afterward took possession of the western part of the island. Their principal city was named Cap François, which means French Cape. The African prince Gaou-Guinou was sold in the market of that city. He was more fortunate than slaves generally are. He was bought by the manager of a sugar plantation belonging to a French nobleman, named the Count de Breda. He was kind-hearted, and was very careful to employ none but humane men to take charge of his laborers. The condition of the young African was also less desolate than it would have been, by reason of his finding on the Breda estate several members of the Arradas tribe, who, like him, had been stolen from their homes. They at once recognized him as the son of their king, and treated him with the utmost respect. In process of time he married a black slave, who is said to have been handsome and virtuous. They joined the Roman Catholic Church, which was the established religion of France and the French islands. Of their eight children, the oldest, born in 1743, one hundred and twenty-two years ago, was named Toussaint. The day of his birth is not certainly known. It has been said to have been on the 20th of May. But, from his name, it seems more likely[35] that it was on the 1st of November. In Catholic countries, almost every day of the year is set apart to the worship of some saint; and a child born on the day of any particular saint is very apt to receive his name from that day. The first of November is a festival of the church, called All Saints' Day; and Toussaint, in the French language, means All Saints.

In the neighborhood of Gaou-Guinou lived a very honest, religious old black man, named Pierre Baptiste. He had been in the service of Jesuit missionaries, and had there learned to read and write, also a little of geometry. By help of the Catholic Prayer-Book he learned some prayers in Latin, and found out their meaning in French. This man stood godfather for Toussaint at his baptism, and as the boy grew older it was his pleasure to teach him what little he himself knew. The language of the Arradas tribe was always spoken in the family of Gaou-Guinou, but from his godfather Toussaint learned to speak tolerably good French, which was the language of the whites in the western part of St. Domingo. It is said that Gaou-Guinou was allowed to cultivate a little patch of ground for his family, and that some of his fellow-slaves were permitted to assist him occasionally. This indulgence indicates that he stood well in his master's opinion. But, in common with other slaves, it is probable that he and his wife toiled early and late in the fields or the sugar-house, and that their family were huddled together in a hut too small to allow of their observing the laws of cleanliness or modesty.

For several years Toussaint was so feeble and slender that his parents called him by a name which signified "The Little Lath." But he gained strength as he grew older; and by the time he was twelve years old he could beat all the boys in running, jumping, and leaping.

[36]

It was the business of young slaves to tend the flocks and herds. They generally neglected and abused the creatures under their care, because they themselves were accustomed to hard treatment. But Toussaint was of a kindly disposition, and there was less violence on his master's plantation than elsewhere. It was remarked in the neighborhood that he differed from other boys in his careful and gentle treatment of the animals under his care. He was naturally a silent and thoughtful child, and probably this tendency was increased by being much alone, watching the browsing cattle in the stillness of the great valleys. Perhaps also the presence of the mountains and the sky made him feel serious and solemn. His pious godfather told him legends of Catholic saints, which he had heard among the missionaries. All these things combined to give him a religious turn of mind, even in his boyhood. From his own father he learned a great deal about Africa and the customs that prevailed in the tribe of his grandfather, King of the Arradas; also the medicinal qualities of many plants, which afterward proved very useful to him. Nothing is recorded of the moral and intellectual character of his father; but Toussaint always respected him highly, and when he was himself an old man he spoke of him as a good parent, who had trained him well by lessons of honor and virtue.

Toussaint Breda, as he was called, from the name of the estate on which he worked, early acquired a reputation for intelligence, sobriety, and industry. The Manager of the estate, M. Bayou de Libertas, was so much pleased with his conduct and manners that he made him his coachman, a situation much coveted by the slaves, as being more easy and pleasant than most of their tasks. His kindness to animals fitted him for the care of horses,[37] and he was found as faithful in this new business as he had been while he was herds-boy. He was afterward promoted to an office of greater trust, being made steward of the sugar-house.

Having arrived at manhood, he began to want a home of his own. Most of the slaves took up together without any form of marriage, that being one of the bad customs which grows out of Slavery. But Toussaint was religious, and it would have troubled his conscience to live in that bad way. He had become attached to a widow named Suzan, who had one little son called Placide. She was not handsome, but he loved her for her good sense, good temper, and modest manners. They were married according to the ceremonies of the Catholic Church. He adopted her little boy, and brought him up as tenderly as he did his own children. The Manager allowed him a small patch of ground for vegetables, and all the hours they could snatch from plantation labors he and his wife devoted to the cultivation of their little garden. M. Bayou de Libertas was such a humane and considerate man that life in his service seems to have been as happy as the condition of slaves can be. Long afterward, Toussaint, speaking of this period of his life, said: "My wife and I went hand in hand to labor in the fields. We were scarcely conscious of the fatigues of the day. Heaven always blessed our toil. We had abundance for ourselves, and the pleasure of giving to other blacks who needed it. On Sundays and festival days my wife, my parents, and myself went to church. Returning to our cottage we had a pleasant meal, passed the remainder of the day in family intercourse, and closed it by prayer, in which all took part."

Thus contented in his humble station, and faithfully[38] performing its duties, he gained the respect and confidence of both blacks and whites. Many of the slaves in the French colonies were cruelly treated, as is always the case wherever Slavery exists. Toussaint could not avoid seeing a great deal of wrong and suffering inflicted on people of his color, and he was doubtless grateful to God that his lot was so much better than theirs. But he was too intelligent and thoughtful not to question in his own mind why either he or they should be held in bondage merely on account of the complexion which it had pleased God to give them. He was fond of reading, and M. Bayou de Libertas, contrary to the usual custom, allowed him the use of his books. He read one volume at a time, and tried to understand it thoroughly. He devoted every spare moment to it, and while he was at work he was busily thinking over what he had read. It took complete possession of his soul for the time, and he would repeat extracts from it to his companions for weeks after. In this earnest way he read several books of ancient history, biography, and morals, and a number of military books. There was a French author, called the Abbé Raynal, who was much opposed to Slavery. In some way or other, one of his books fell into the hands of Toussaint Breda, and made a deep impression on him. It contained the following sentence: "What shall be done to overthrow Slavery? Self-interest alone governs kings and nations. We must look elsewhere. A courageous chief is all the negroes need. Where is he? Where is that great man whom Nature owes to her vexed, oppressed, and tormented children? He will doubtless appear. He will come forth and raise the sacred standard of Liberty. This venerable signal will gather round him his companions in misfortune. More impetuous than the torrents,[39] they will everywhere leave the indelible traces of their just resentment. Everywhere people will bless the name of the hero who shall have re-established the rights of the human race."

When the Abbé Raynal wrote those prophetic words, he did not foresee that they would meet the eye of the very man he called for; and the humble slave, when he read them, did not hear in them the voice of his own destiny.

While he was diligently toiling for his humane masters, and seizing every opportunity to increase his small stock of knowledge, the island of St. Domingo was growing very rich by agriculture and commerce. The planters acquired enormous wealth, built splendid houses, and lived in luxury, laziness, and dissipation, upon the toil of the poor unpaid negroes. Twenty thousand slaves were imported from Africa every year, to make up the deficiency of those who were killed by excessive toil and cruel treatment. These new victims, men and women, had the name of their purchaser branded on their breast-bones with red-hot iron.

But men never violate the laws of God without suffering the consequences, sooner or later. Slavery was producing its natural fruits of tyranny and hatred, cruelty and despair. The reports of barbarity on one side and suffering on the other attracted attention in Europe; and benevolent and just men began to speak and write against Slavery as a wicked and dangerous institution. The Abbé Gregoire, a humane Bishop of the Catholic Church, introduced the agitating question into the French Assembly, a body similar to our Congress. He also formed a society called Les Amis de Noirs, which means "The Friends of the Blacks." Of course, this was very[40] vexatious to slaveholders in the French colonies. They knew very well that if the facts of Slavery were made known, every good man would cry out against it. Political parties were formed in St. Domingo. Some of the planters wanted to secede from France, and set up an independent government. Others wanted to increase their political power by having a Colonial Assembly established in the island, by means of which they could mainly manage their own concerns as they chose. For this purpose they sent deputies to France. But their request gave rise to the question who should have the right to be members of such an Assembly; and, for the following reasons, that question was very annoying to the haughty slaveholders of St. Domingo.

In the United States of America, slaveholders made a law that "the child shall follow the condition of the mother"; consequently, every child of a slave-woman was born a slave, however light its complexion might be. This was a very convenient arrangement for white fathers, who wanted to sell their own children. In the French colonies, the law was, "the child shall follow the condition of its father." The consequence was, that all the children the planters of St. Domingo had by their slaves were born free. This was, of course, a numerous class. In fact, their numbers were two thirds as great as those of the whites. There were at that time in St. Domingo thirty thousand whites, twenty thousand free mulattoes, and five hundred thousand black slaves. Not unfrequently the white planters sent their mulatto children to France to be educated like gentlemen. Many of them acquired great wealth and held numerous slaves. But they were a class by themselves. However rich and educated they might be, they were kept trampled down[41] in a degraded and irritating position, merely on account of their color. They despised the negro slaves, from whom they had descended on the mother's side; and they in their turn were despised by the whites, whose children they were, because their color connected them with the enslaved race. They were not allowed to be doctors, lawyers, or priests; they could hold no public office; they could not inherit the name or the property of their fathers; they could not attend school with white boys, or sit at a white man's table, or occupy the same portion of a church with him, or be buried in the same graveyard. They were continually insulted by whites, but if they dared to give a blow in return, the penalty was to have the right hand cut off. This class of free mulattoes claimed that, being numerous and wealthy, and the payers of taxes, they had a right to send representatives to the Colonial Assembly to look after their interests. They had the more hopes of gaining this point, because a great Revolution was then going on in France, and the friends of liberty and equality were daily growing stronger there. When the white planters sent deputies to France, the mulattoes sent deputies also, with a present of more than a million of dollars, and an offer to mortgage a fifth part of all their property toward the payment of the French national debt. All they asked in return was that the law should put them on an equality with white men. Being slaveholders, they manifested the same selfishness that white slaveholders did. They declared that they asked redress of grievances only for oppressed freemen; that they had no wish to change the condition of the negroes, who were slaves.

This petition was drawn up in 1790, and sent to Paris by a wealthy colored man named Ogé. It excited lively[42] discussion in the National Assembly of France. One of the members, named Lamoth, who owned large estates in St. Domingo, said: "I am one of the largest proprietors in that island; but I would lose all that I possess there rather than disown principles which justice and humanity have consecrated. I am not only in favor of admitting men of color into the Colonial Assemblies, but I also go for the emancipation of the negro slaves." After animated discussion, the reply received by the mulatto deputies from the President of the Assembly was: "No portion of the French nation shall in vain claim its rights from the representatives of the French people."

When the white planters of St. Domingo heard of this, they were filled with wrath. In one place, a mulatto named Lacombe, whose only crime was that he had signed the petition, was seized and hung. In another place, the mob seized a highly respected old white magistrate and cut off his head, because he had drafted for the mulattoes a very moderate petition, begging to be released from some of the hardships under which they had so long suffered. When the colored deputy Ogé returned from France and demanded that mulattoes should have the rights of citizenship, which had been decreed to them by the French Assembly, soldiers were sent to seize him, and he was sentenced to have all his limbs broken on a wheel, and then to have his head cut off.

Besides the classes of which I have spoken there was another class in St. Domingo called petit blancs, which means small whites. They were so called to distinguish them from the large landed proprietors. They occupied a position not unlike that of the class known as "poor whites" in the slaveholding portion of the United States.[43] They were ready instruments to carry out the vengeance of the infuriated planters. They seized every opportunity to insult the free mulattoes, and to inflict cruelty and outrage on the negro slaves. They went about as patrols, traversing the plantations, and bursting into negro huts at all times of night, under the pretence that they were plotting insurrection. The poor ignorant slaves did not understand what all this mobbing and murdering was for; but finding themselves so much suspected and abused without cause, they became weary of their lives. Many committed suicide, others tried to poison their tormentors. At Port au Prince an attempt was made to get up an insurrection. Fifty slaves, suspected of being connected with it, were beheaded, and their heads, stuck on poles, were set up by the hedges in a row.

While the fire was thus kindling under their feet the white planters came out in open defiance of the French government, and refused to take the oath of allegiance. They called on the English for aid, and offered to make the island over to Great Britain. The mulattoes were filled with dismay, for the French government was their only hope. They had hitherto kept aloof from the negroes; but now, seeing the necessity of curbing the power of the white planters, at all hazards, they instigated the already exasperated slaves to seize this favorable moment of commotion and rise against their masters. They did rise, on the 22d of August, 1791. All at once the sky was red with the reflection of burning houses and cane-fields. The cruelties which they had witnessed or suffered, they now, in their turn, inflicted on white men, women, and children. It was a horrible scene.

Toussaint was working as usual on the Breda estate, when he heard that the planters had called in the aid[44] of the English, and that four thousand negroes had risen in insurrection. He exerted his great influence with his fellow-slaves to prevent the destruction of houses and cane-fields on the Breda estate. For a month, he kept the insurgents at bay, while he helped M. Bayou de Libertas to convey a cargo of sugar on board a Baltimore ship, for the support of his family, and aided his mistress to collect such articles of value as could conveniently be carried away. Then he secretly conveyed them to the same ship; and it was an inexpressible relief to his heart when he saw them sailing away, bound for the shores of the United States.

The armed negroes increased in numbers, and marshalled themselves under an intelligent leader named Jean François. When the French governor in St. Domingo called upon them to lay down their arms, their leaders replied for them: "We have never thought of failing in the respect and duty we owe to the representatives of the King of France. The king has bewailed our lot and broken our chains. But those who should have proved fathers to us have been tyrants, monsters, unworthy the fruits of our labors. Do you ask the sheep to throw themselves into the jaws of the wolf? To prove to you, excellent sir, that we are not so cruel as you may think, we assure you that we wish for peace with all our souls; but on condition that all the whites, without a single exception, leave the Cape. Let them carry with them their gold and their jewels. All we seek is our liberty. God grant that we may obtain it without shedding of blood. Believe us, it has cost our feelings very much to have taken this course. But victory, or death for freedom, is our profession of faith; and we will maintain it to the last drop of our blood."

[45]

The negroes were mistaken in supposing that Louis XVI., king of France, had broken their chains, or that the king's party, called Royalists, were trying to do anything for their freedom. It was the revolutionary party in France, called Republicans, who had declared themselves in favor of emancipating the negro slaves, and giving the free mulattoes their civil rights. The main body of the negroes had been kept in the lowest ignorance, and of course could not understand the state of political parties. The world was ringing with French doctrines of liberty and equality, to be applied to men of all colors; and they could not help hearing something of what was so universally talked of. The Spaniards in the eastern part of St. Domingo were allies of the French king, and they wanted the negroes to help them fight the French planters, who were in rebellion against the king. In order to give them a strong motive for doing so, they told them that Louis XVI. had been cast into prison in France, and that they were going to kill him, because he wanted to emancipate the slaves in his colonies. They readily believed that it was so, because they saw their masters in arms against the king. Therefore they called their regiments "The King's Own," and carried flags on which were inscribed, "Long live the King," "The Ancient System of Government."

The slaveholders mounted the English cockade, and entered into alliance with Great Britain, while their revolted slaves joined the Spanish. The war raged horribly on both sides. Jean François was of a gentle disposition, and disposed to be merciful; but the two other leaders of the negroes, named Jeannot and Biassou, were monsters of revenge and cruelty. The bleeding heads of white men surrounded their camps, and the bodies[46] of black men hung on trees round the camps of the planters.

This state of things shocked the soul of Toussaint Breda. Much as he desired the freedom of his own race, he was reluctant to join an enterprise marked by so many cruelties. Conscience forbade him to enlist on the side of the slaveholders, and he would gladly have remained neutral; but he found that men of his own color were suspicious of him, because he had adhered so faithfully to M. Bayou de Libertas. He joined the black insurgents; but, resolved not to take part in their barbarities, he occupied himself with healing the wounded,—an office for which he was well qualified by his tender disposition and knowledge of medicinal plants.

After a while, however, the negroes were compelled to retreat before the superior discipline of the white troops; and feeling greatly the need of intelligent officers, they insisted upon making Toussaint aide-de-camp to Biassou, under the title of Brigadier. He desired, above all things, that hostilities should cease, that the negroes should return to their work, and that the planters should consent to cease from oppressing them. A very little justice and kindness would have pacified the revolted slaves; but the slaveholders were so full of rage and pride, that if a slave attempted to return to his master, however sincere he might be, he was instantly put to death. Three commissioners came from France to try to negotiate a peace between the contending parties. The blacks sent deputies to the Colonial Assembly to help the French commissioners in this good work; but the planters treated their overtures with haughtiness and contempt.

It is said that Toussaint wept when he saw the hopes[47] of peace vanish. It was plain that his people must resist their tyrants, or be forever hopelessly crushed. He was then fifty years old, in the prime of his bodily and mental strength. By becoming a leader he felt that he might protect the ignorant masses, and restrain those who were disposed to cruelty. Perhaps he remembered the prediction of the Abbé Raynal, and thought that he was the appointed deliverer,—a second Moses, sent by God to bring his people out of bondage. From that time henceforth he made it the business of his life to conquer freedom for his race; but never in a bloodthirsty spirit.

Biassou was so enraged by the contemptuous manner in which their deputies had been treated, that he gave orders to put to death all the white prisoners in their camps. But Toussaint remonstrated, and succeeded in saving their lives. His superior intelligence gave him great influence, and he always exerted it on the side of humanity. He also manifested extraordinary courage and sagacity in the very difficult position in which he was placed. He was surrounded by conflicting parties, fighting against each other, agreeing only in one thing, and that was hostility to the negroes; all of them ready to make the fairest promises, and to break them as soon as they had gained their object. France was in a state of revolutionary confusion, and rumors were very contradictory. One thing was certain,—their former masters were fighting against the king of France; and instinct led them to take the other side. Toussaint deemed it wisest to keep under the protection of their Spanish allies, and fight with them for the king's party. By a succession of battles, he gained possession of several districts in the mountains, where he entrenched his forces strongly, and tried to bring them under regular military discipline.[48] He was very strict, and allowed no disobedience of orders. He forbade his soldiers to go about plundering, or revenging past injuries. His motto was, "No Retaliation,"—a noble, Christian motto, totally disregarded by men whose opportunities for enlightened education were a thousand times greater than his. When he felt himself secure in the mountain districts, he invited the white planters of that region to return and cultivate the estates which they had abandoned in their terror. He promised them that their persons and property should be protected; and he faithfully kept his word. In his language and in his actions he was always saying to the whites, "Why will you force us to fight? I cherish no revenge against you. All I want is the freedom of my race." His energy and ingenuity in availing himself of every resource and supplying every deficiency were truly wonderful. On one occasion a map was greatly needed, in order to plan some important campaign, and no map could be procured. Toussaint, having made diligent inquiries of various persons well acquainted with the portion of country to be traversed, employed himself in making a map. By help of the little geometry taught him by his godfather, he projected a map, and marked down the important towns, mountains, and rivers, with the distances between them.

No trait in the character of Toussaint Breda was stronger than his domestic affections. He was devotedly attached to his wife and children, and he had not seen them for seven months. At last an interval of quiet enabled him to visit the Spanish part of the island, whither he had sent them for security. The Spanish authorities, in acknowledgment of his services, received him with the greatest distinction. Toussaint thanked them, but humbly ascribed his successes to a superintending Providence.[49] Always strict in religious observances, he went to the church to offer prayers. His general, the Spanish Marquis Hermona, seeing him kneel to partake of the communion, said: "In this lower world God visits no purer soul than his."

But the Spaniards had no regard for the rights and welfare of the negroes. They used them while they had need of their help, and were ready to oppress them when it served their own interests. News came from France that the Republican party were triumphant, and that the king had been beheaded. The Spanish had nothing further to gain by adhering to the defeated Royalist party. Accordingly, Spain and Great Britain entered into a league to divide the island of St. Domingo between them, and restore Slavery. On the contrary, the Republican party in France, assembled in convention at Paris, February, 1794, proclaimed freedom to the slaves in all the French colonies; and as the government was now in their hands, there was no doubt of their having power to protect those they had emancipated. Under these circumstances, there was but one course for Toussaint to take. He left the Spanish and joined the French forces, by whom he was received with acclamation. His rude bands of untaught negroes had now become a well-disciplined army. They were proud of their commander, and almost worshipped him. Under his guidance, they performed wonders, proving themselves equal to any troops in the world. Toussaint was on horseback night and day. It seemed as if he never slept. Wherever he was needed, he suddenly appeared; and as he seemed to be wanted in twenty places at once, his followers thought he had some powers of witchcraft to help him. But the witchcraft consisted in his superior intelligence,[50] his remarkable activity, his iron constitution, and his iron will. His heart was never of iron. In the midst of constant warfare he paid careful attention to the raising of crops; and if women and children, black or white, were suffering with hunger, he caused them to be supplied with food. He and his brave officers and troops everywhere drove the English before them. The French general Laveaux appointed him second to himself in command; and, in his proclamation to that effect, he declared: "This is the man whom the Abbé Raynal foretold would rise to be the liberator of his oppressed race."

One day, when he had gained some important advantage, a white officer exclaimed, "General Toussaint makes an opening everywhere." His black troops heard the words, and feeling that he had made an opening for them, from the dungeon of Slavery to the sunlight of Freedom, they shouted, "L'Ouverture," "L'Ouverture"; which, being translated into English, means The Opening. From that day henceforth he was called Toussaint l'Ouverture.

The English general Maitland, finding him so formidable, wished to have a conference with him to negotiate terms of accommodation. The request was granted; and such was his confidence in the black chieftain that he went to his camp with only three attendants, through miles of country full of armed negroes. One of the French officers wrote to General Toussaint that it would be an excellent opportunity to take the English commander prisoner. General Maitland was informed of this while he was on his way; but he said, "I will trust General Toussaint. He never breaks his promise." When he arrived, General Toussaint handed him[51] two letters, saying, "There is a letter I have received, advising me to detain you as prisoner; and there is my reply. I wish you to read them before we proceed to business, that you may know I am incapable of such a base action." The answer he had written was, "I have promised this Englishman my protection, and he shall have it."

The English, seeing little prospect of conquering him by force, or outwitting him by stratagem, tried to bribe him to their interest. They offered to make him king of St. Domingo, to establish him with a sufficient naval force, and give freedom to the blacks, if he would come over to their side. But the English still held slaves in the neighboring islands, while the French had proclaimed emancipation in all their colonies. He felt grateful to the Republican government of France, and he resolved to stand by it. The only crown he coveted was the freedom of his race. He pursued the English vigorously, till he drove them from the island. Yet he had no desire to harm them, any further than was inevitable for the protection of his people. An English naval officer, named Rainsford, being driven on the coast of St. Domingo by a violent storm, was arrested as a spy. A court-martial was held, at which General Christophe presided, in the absence of General Toussaint. Rainsford was convicted, and sentenced to die. He was put into a dungeon to wait till the sentence was signed by General Toussaint. The women of the island pitied the stranger, and often sent him fruit and sweetmeats. When Toussaint returned, he examined into the case, and said: "The trial appears to have been fair, and the sentence just, according to the rules of war. But why should we execute this stranger? He is alone, and can do us no[52] harm. His death would break his mother's heart. Let us have compassion on her. Let us send him home, that he may tell the English what sort of people we are, and advise them not to attempt to reduce us to Slavery."

Having cleared the island of foreign enemies, Toussaint exerted all his abilities to restore prosperity. He discharged the greater part of the regular troops, and sent them to till the soil. At that time, men were afraid to trust to immediate, unconditional emancipation; they had not then learned by experiment that it is the wisest policy, as well as the truest justice. Toussaint feared that when the former slaves were disbanded from the army they would sink into laziness and vice, and thus cause the name of freedom to be evil spoken of. Therefore, with the view of guarding public morals, he instituted a kind of apprenticeship. He ordained that they should work five years for their masters, on condition of receiving one fourth of the produce, out of which the cost of their subsistence was to be defrayed. Regulations were made by which the laborers became a sort of proprietors of the soil; but I do not know what were the terms. He did everything to encourage agriculture, and tried to impress on the minds of the blacks that the permanence of their freedom depended in a great measure upon their becoming owners and cultivators of land. He proclaimed a general amnesty to men of all colors and all parties, even to those who had fought with the English against their own country. He invited the return of all fugitives who were willing to become good citizens, and by public discourses and proclamations promised them pardon for the past and protection for the future. Before any important measure was carried into execution, he summoned all the people to church, where, after[53] prayers were offered, he discoursed to them upon the prospects of the republic, and what he considered essential to its future peace and prosperity. He ordered prayers to be said night and morning at the head of the regiments. The discipline of the army was so strict, that some accused him of severity. But the soldiers almost idolized him, which I think they would not have done, if he had not proved to them that he was just as well as strict. After such a long period of foreign and civil war, it required a very firm and judicious hand to restore order and security. His troops, once lawless and savage, had become perfectly orderly under his regulations. They committed no thefts on the plantations and no pillage in the cities. He opened to all nations an unrestricted commerce with St. Domingo; and he has the honor of being the first ruler in the world who introduced a system of free trade. In the distribution of offices, he sought out the men that were best fitted, without regard to complexion. In many things he seemed to favor the whites more than the blacks; probably from his extreme fear of not being impartial; perhaps also because he knew the whites distrusted him and needed to be conciliated, while people of his own color had entire confidence in him. But the most obstinate prejudices gradually gave way before the wisdom and uprightness of his government. White planters, who had been accustomed to talk of him as a revolted slave and a lawless brigand, began to acknowledge that he was a conscientious man and a wise legislator. A general feeling of security prevailed, activity in business was restored, and wealth began to flow in through its former channels.

But, with all his prudence and efforts at universal conciliation, he could not at once heal the old animosities[54] that had so long rankled in the breasts of men. Some of the returned French planters resumed their old habits of haughtiness and contempt toward the negroes. Some of the proprietors, both white and black, in their haste to grow rich, overworked their laborers; and, in addition to these causes of irritation, it was whispered round that the whites were influencing the French government to restore Slavery. In one of the northern districts a proposition was made to disband the black troops. This excited suspicion, and they rose in rebellion. Buildings were fired, and three hundred whites slaughtered. Toussaint hastened to the scene of action, and by assurances and threats quelled the tumult. The command of that district was in the hands of General Moyse, the son of Toussaint's brother Paul. He disliked the system of conciliation pursued toward the whites, and had expressed his opinions in terms less respectful than was proper toward a man of his uncle's age and character. The agricultural returns from his district had been smaller than from other portions of the island; and when Toussaint remonstrated with him for neglecting that department, he replied: "Whatever my old uncle may see fit to do, I cannot consent to be the executioner of my race, by causing them to be worked to death. All your orders are given in the name of France. But to serve France is to serve the interests of the whites; and I shall never love the whites till they give me back the eye I lost in battle." When the insurrection broke out in his district, the relatives of the slaughtered whites complained to General Toussaint that his nephew had not taken any efficient measures to put down the riot; and the black insurgents excused themselves by saying General Moyse approved of their rising. A court-martial was held, and[55] General Moyse and several of the ringleaders were condemned to be shot. The execution of this sentence excited a good deal of ill-feeling toward Toussaint. He was loudly accused of favoring the whites more than he did his own color; and to this day it is remembered against him in the island. It certainly is the harshest action recorded of Toussaint l'Ouverture. But it must be remembered that he had invited the whites to come back, and had given them promises of protection, because he thought the peace and prosperity of the island could best be promoted in that way; and having done so, it was his duty to see that their lives and property were protected. Moreover, he knew that the freedom of his race depended upon their good behavior after they were emancipated, and that insurrections would furnish the French government with a pretext for reducing them to Slavery again. If he punished any of the ringleaders with death, he could not, without partiality, pardon his own nephew, who had been condemned by the same court-martial. In this matter it is fair to judge Toussaint by his general character, and that leaves no room to doubt that severity was painful to him, and that when he resorted to it he was actuated by motives for the public good.

That he could forgive offences against himself was shown by his treatment of the mulattoes, who made trouble in the island about the same time. They had never been pleased to see one of the black slaves, whom they had always despised, placed in a situation which made him so much superior to any of themselves. They manifested their dissatisfaction in a variety of ways. They did their utmost to increase the feeling that he showed partiality to the whites. In several instances[56] attempts were made to take his life. At one time, the plume in his military cap was shot away. On another occasion, balls passed through his carriage, and his coachman was killed; but he happened to be riding off on horseback in another direction. This hostile feeling led the mulattoes into an extensive conspiracy to excite rebellion against his government. Toussaint was forewarned of it, and the attempt was put down. Eleven of the leaders were carried to the Cape and imprisoned. Toussaint called a meeting of the civil and military authorities, and ordered the building to be surrounded by black troops while the mulatto prisoners were brought in under guard. They looked extremely dejected, expecting nothing but death. But he announced to them that, deeming the forgiveness of injuries a Christian duty, he pardoned what they had attempted to do against him. He gave them money to defray their travelling expenses, told them they were at liberty to return to their homes, and gave orders that they should be protected on the way. As he passed out of the building, they showered blessings on his head, and the air was filled with shouts of "Long live Toussaint l'Ouverture."

These outbreakings of old hatreds were local and short-lived. The confidence in Toussaint's goodness and ability was almost universal; and his popularity was so great with all classes, that he might have made himself emperor, if he would. But through all the changes in France he had been faithful to the French government; and now to the habit of loyalty was added gratitude to that government for having proclaimed freedom to his race. Next to the emancipation of his people, he sought to serve the interests of France. Personal ambition never tempted him from the path of duty. When the affairs of the[57] colony seemed to be arranged on a secure basis, he manifested willingness to resign the authority which he had used with so much wisdom and impartiality. He published a proclamation, in which he said:—

"Penetrated with that which is set forth in our Lord's Prayer, 'forgive us our transgressions, as we forgive those who transgress against us,' I have granted a general amnesty. Fellow-citizens, not less generous than myself, endeavor to have the past forgotten. Receive misled brethren with open arms, and let them in the future be on their guard against the snares of bad men. Civil and military authorities, my task is accomplished. It now belongs to you to take care that harmony is no more disturbed. Allow no one to reproach those who went astray, but have now returned to their duty. But, notwithstanding my proclamation of amnesty, watch bad men closely, and do not spare them if they excite disturbance. A sense of honor should guide you all. A true, confiding peace is necessary to the prosperity of the country. It must be your work to establish such a peace. Take no rest until you have accomplished it."

The people refused to accept the resignation of their "friend and benefactor," as they styled him. He replied: "If I undertake the administration of civil affairs, I must have a solid rock to stand on; and that rock must be a constitutional government." Feeling the necessity of laws and regulations suited to the altered state of the country, he called a meeting of deputies from all the districts to draft a constitution. Of these nine deputies eight were white and one a mulatto. They were selected for their learning and ability. Very likely Toussaint's habitual caution led him to choose men from the two classes that had been hostile to him, that there might[58] be no pretext for saying he used his popularity with the blacks to carry any measure he wished.

Among other things, this constitution provided that Slavery should never more exist in St. Domingo; that all who were born there were free citizens of the French republic. It also provided that offices were to be distributed according to virtue and ability, without regard to color. The island was to be ruled by one governor, appointed for five years, with a proviso that the term might be prolonged as a reward for good conduct. But "in consideration of the important services rendered to the country by General Toussaint l'Ouverture," he was named governor for life, with power to appoint his successor. This was early in the summer of 1800. The constitution, approved by Toussaint and published, was accepted by the people with solemn formalities and demonstrations of joy. This new colonial government was to go into operation provisionally, until it should receive the sanction of the authorities in France.

General Napoleon Bonaparte was then at the head of the French government, under the title of First Consul. Governor Toussaint wrote to him, that, in the absence of laws, after the revolution in St. Domingo, it had been deemed best to draft a constitution. He added: "I hasten to lay it before you for your approbation, and for the sanction of the government which I serve. All classes of citizens here have welcomed it with joy, which will be renewed when it is sent back with the sanction of the French government."

Some writers have accused Toussaint of personal ambition because he consented to be governor for life. He himself said it was because circumstances had given him influence, which he coul