LETTER IX.

Republic of Hayti.

HISTORICAL SKETCH--GENERAL DESCRIPTION PREVIOUS TO 1790.

“Think not that prodigies must rule a state-- That great revulsions spring from something great.”

I have given you Dominicana as a garden of poetry and the home of legendary song. Well, Hayti is a land of historical facts, and the field of unparalleled glory. Consulting one day with Mr. Redpath, the talented author of the series of letters to which I have previously referred, he suggested the impossibility of any one forming even a comparatively correct opinion respecting affairs in Hayti, without being guided by a sketch of the country’s previous history. Confessedly, therefore, much as his letters were appreciated by the readers of the _Tribune_ he had not done the Haytiens simple justice. Since nothing could be so highly interesting, be it mine and the _Anglo-African’s_ to undertake what the _Tribune_ and its correspondent failed to supply. The following compilation will be taken from Rainsford’s, St. Domingo, and Edwards’ and Coke’s histories of the West Indies, but principally, and when not otherwise marked, from Coke.

There is nothing low or cowardly in the history of Hayti. Notwithstanding their conquests on the main land, the Spaniards were wont to regard it as the parent colony and capital of their American possessions. The buccaneers of Tortuga, however much they may have suffered or have been feared, can not be said to have ever been really conquered. In fact, by whomsoever settled, the country has shown one uninterrupted record of pride and independence. I regard this as an honor to begin with.

The history of Hayti begins with the buccaneers, a company of French, English, and Germans, driven from their homes in the neighboring islands by the haughty arrogance of the Spaniards, in 1629. These men, collected on the shores of Tortuga, vowed mutual fidelity and protection to each other, but eternal vengeance against their persecutors. How well they kept their word has passed into a proverb.

In 1665 the court of Versailles, observing a beautiful country of which some of its subjects had taken an actual though accidental possession, took the fugitive colony under its protection. It was not difficult for the French government to see that the island was in value equal to an empire, and it was therefore determined to enhance its interests with all possible speed. The first care was to select a governor who should be equal to the difficult task of humanizing men who had become barbarians; which important task was committed to D’Ogerton, a gentleman of Anjou.

Hitherto not a single female resided in the settlement, to supply which deficiency was the governor’s first care. With this view he sent immediately to France, and many women of reputable character were induced to embark. From this time the prosperity of the colony fairly begins.

The personal fame of D’Ogerton drew many who had suffered persecution at home to flee for safety to an asylum which his lenient measures had established in Hayti, among whom was one Gobin, a Calvinist, who, upon his arrival, (1680,) erected a house on the Cape, and prevailed on others to join him in his retreat. Time added to their numbers, and the conveniences of the situation justified their choice. As the lands became cleared and the value of its commodious bay became known, both inhabitants and shipping resorted to the spot, and raised the town of Cape François to a degree of elegance, wealth, and commercial importance which in 1790 scarcely any city in the West Indies could presume to rival.

Considered in itself, the situation of the town is not to be commended. It stands at the foot of a very high mountain which prevents the inhabitants from enjoying the land breezes, which are not only delicious but absolutely necessary to health. It also obstructs the rays of the sun, causing them to be reflected in such a manner as to render the heat at times almost insupportable. On one side of the town, however, is an extensive plain, containing, perhaps, without any exception, some of the finest lands in the world. The air is temperate, though the days and nights are constantly cool. In short, it is another Eden. “Happy the mortal who first taught the French to settle on this delicious spot.”

The situation of Port au Prince, to which place the seat of government has been transferred, seems to have been unfortunately selected. It is low and marshy, and the air is impregnated with noxious vapors, rendering it extremely unwholesome. To this day it is commonly regarded as the graveyard of American seamen. In 1790 it had also reached an eminent degree of prosperity, and contained 14,754 inhabitants, of whom 2,754 were white, 4,000 free people of color, and the remainder slaves. So, also, near Port au Prince is a fertile plain called Cul de Sac. The mountains surrounding it possess a grateful soil, and are cultivated even to their summits. The value of such lands is at present from ten to twenty dollars per acre.

The town of St. Mark’s, near which the last body of colored emigrants from America have settled, is somewhat more advantageously situated. It lies on the northern shore of the bay, on the point of an obtuse angle formed by the margin of the rocks and waves. Hills encircle it in the form of a crescent, the points of which unite with the sea, and, while they afford it shelter, leave it open to the breezes of the ocean, which become the springs of health.

The land which the French had brought under cultivation previous to the revolution was devoted mostly to the cultivation of sugar, coffee, indigo, and chocolate. It is said that Hayti alone produced as much sugar at this time as all the British West Indies united. The prodigious productions of little more than two million acres of land were as follows: brown sugar, 93,773,300 lbs.; white sugar, 47,516,351 lbs.; cotton, 7,004,274 lbs.; indigo, 758,628 lbs. But great as this product may appear, it by no means gives the entire amount, the quantity of tanned hides, spirits, &c., being equally immense.

Immorality and irreligion everywhere prevailed, worse even than at present, if we are to judge from a poem written about that time. The West Indies would seem to be peculiarly conducive to this species of iniquity:

“For piety, that richest, sweetest grant, Of purest love blest super-lunar plant, Is here neglected for inferior good, Torn from the roots, or blasted in the bud. Soft indolence her downy couch displays, And lulls her victims in inglorious ease, While guilty passions to their foul embrace Seduce the daughters of the swarthy race.”

This brings us to the consideration of the all-important subject called in America the “negro question,” but which is, nevertheless, the immortal question of the rights of man.

The inhabitants of Hayti consisted of 540,000 souls, and were divided into three distinct classes--the whites, the slaves, and the mulattoes and free blacks. The term mulatto comprehended all shades between whites and negroes. The whites conducted themselves as if born to command, and the blacks, awed into submission, yielded obedience to their imperious mandates, while the mulattoes were despised by both parties.

The freedom they enjoyed was rather nominal than real. On reaching a state of manhood each became liable to serve in a military establishment, the office of which was to arrest runaway slaves, protect travellers on the public roads, and, in short, to “mount a three years’ guard on the public tranquillity.” To complete their degradation, they were utterly disqualified from holding any office or place of public trust. No mulatto durst assume the surname of his father; and to prevent the revenge which such flagrant and contemptible injustice could hardly fail to excite, the law had enacted that if a free man of color presumed to strike a white man, _his right arm should be cut off_. In fact, they were not much above the condition of the free blacks in the United States. “On comparing the situation of these two classes of men”--the slaves and the nominally free--says Coke, “it is difficult to say which was the most degraded. The social difference was, without doubt, very great, but in the aggregate must have been about the same.”

Such was the state of affairs previous to 1790. What they have been subsequently remains to be seen. The whip of terror never yet made a friend. It may prevent men from being avowed enemies for a while, but it usually makes a deeper impression upon the heart than upon the skin. The heart is nearest the seat of recollection, and will stimulate to revenge for a long time after the wound has been inflicted, as the reader of the following pages will abundantly attest.

“Time the Avenger! unto thee I lift My hands and eyes and heart, and crave of thee a gift.”