Part 23 (1/2)

XII.

Oge's blood bubbled silently in the hearts of all the mulatto race. They swore to avenge him. The blacks were an army all ready for the ma.s.sacre; the signal was given to them by the men of colour. In one night 60,000 slaves, armed with torches and their working tools, burnt down all their masters' houses in a circuit of six leagues round the Cape. The whites were murdered; women, children, old men--nothing escaped the long-repressed fury of the blacks. It was the annihilation of one race by the other. The bleeding heads of the whites, carried on the tops of sugar canes, were the standards which guided these hordes, not to combat, but to carnage. The outrages of so many centuries, committed by the whites on the blacks, were avenged in one night. A rivalry of cruelty seemed to arise between the two colours. The negroes imitated the tortures so long used upon them, and invented new ones. If certain n.o.ble and faithful slaves placed themselves between their old masters and death, they were sacrificed together. Grat.i.tude and pity are virtues which civil war never recognises. Colour was a sentence of death without exception of persons; the war was between the races, and no longer between men. The one must perish for the other to live! Since justice could not make itself understood by them, there was nothing but death left for them. Every gift of life to a white was a treason which would cost a black man's life. The negroes had no longer any pity: they were men no longer, they were no longer a people, but a destroying element which spread over the land, annihilating every thing.

In a few hours eight hundred habitations, sugar and coffee stores, representing an immense capital, were destroyed. The mills, magazines, utensils, and even the very plant which reminded them of their servitude and their compulsory labour, were cast into the flames. The whole plain, as far as eye could reach, was covered with nothing but the smoke and the ashes of conflagration. The dead bodies of whites, piled in hideous trophies of heads and limbs, of men, women, and infants a.s.sa.s.sinated, alone marked the spot of the rich residences, where they were supreme on the previous night. It was the revenge of slavery: all tyranny has such fearful reverses.

Some whites, warned in time of the insurrection by the generous indiscretion of the blacks, or protected in their flight by the forests and the darkness, had taken refuge at the Cape Town; others, concealed with their wives and children in caves, were fed and attended to by attached slaves, at the peril of their lives. The army of blacks increased without the walls of the Cape Town, where they formed and disciplined a fortified camp. Guns and cannons arrived by the aid of invisible auxiliaries. Some accused the English, others the Spaniards; others, the ”friends of the blacks,” with being accomplices of this insurrection. The Spaniards, however, were at peace with France; the revolt of the blacks menaced them equally with ourselves. The English themselves possessed three times as many slaves as the French: the principle of the insurrection, excited by success, and spreading with them, would have ruined their establishments, and compromised the lives of their colonists. These suspicions were absurd; there was no one culpable but liberty itself, which is not to be repressed with impunity in a portion of the human race. It had accomplices in the very heart of the French themselves.

The weakness of the resolutions of the a.s.sembly on the reception of this news proved this. M. Bertrand de Molleville, minister of marine, ordered the immediate departure of 6000 men as reinforcement for the isle of San Domingo.

Brissot attacked these repressive measures in a discourse in which he did not hesitate to cast the odium of the crime on the victims, and to accuse the government of complicity with the aristocracy of the colonists.

”By what fatality does this news coincide with a moment when emigrations are redoubled? when the rebels a.s.sembled on our frontiers warn us of an approaching outbreak? when, in fact, the colonies threaten us, through an illegal deputation, with withdrawing from the rule of the mother-country? Has not this the appearance of a vast plan combined by treason?”

The repugnance of the friends of the blacks, numerous in the a.s.sembly, to take energetic measures in favour of the colonists, the distance from the scene of action, which weakens pity, and then the interior movement which attracted into its sphere minds and things, soon effaced these impressions, and allowed the spirit of independence amongst the blacks to form and expand at San Domingo, which showed itself in the distance in the form of a poor old slave--Toussaint-Louverture.

XIII.

The internal disorder multiplied at every point of the empire. Religious liberty, which was desire of the Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly, and the most important conquest of the Revolution, could not be established without this struggle in face of a displaced wors.h.i.+p, and a schism which spread far and wide amongst the people. The counter-revolutionary party was allied every where with the clergy. They had the same enemies, and conspired against the same cause. The nonjuring priests had a.s.sumed the character of victims, and the interest of a portion of the people, especially in the country, attached to them. Persecution is so odious to the public feeling that its very appearance raises generous indignation against it. The human mind has an inclination to believe that justice is on the side of the proscribed. The priests were not as yet persecuted, but from the moment that they were no longer paramount they believed themselves humiliated. The ill-repressed irritation of the clergy has been more injurious to the Revolution than all the conspiracies of the emigrated aristocracy. Conscience is man's most sensitive point. A superst.i.tion attacked, or a faith disturbed in the mind of a people, is the fellest of conspiracies. It was by the hand of G.o.d, invisible in the hand of the priesthood, that the aristocracy roused La Vendee. Frequent and b.l.o.o.d.y symptoms already betrayed themselves in the west, and in Normandy, that concealed focus of religious war.

The most fearful of these symptoms burst out at Caen. The Abbe Fauchet was const.i.tutional bishop of Calvados. The celebrity of his name, the elevated patriotism of his opinions, the _eclat_ of his revolutionary renown, his eloquence, and his writings, disseminated widely in his diocese, were the causes of greater excitement throughout Calvados than elsewhere.

Fauchet, whose conformity of opinions, honesty of feelings for renovation, and even whose somewhat fanciful imagination, which were subsequently destined to a.s.sociate him in acts, and even on the scaffold, with the Girondists, was born at Domes, in the ancient province of Nivernais. He embraced the Catholic faith, entered into the free community of the priests of Saint Roch, at Paris, and was for some time preceptor to the children of the marquis de Choiseul, brother of the famous duke de Choiseul, the last minister of the school of Richelieu and Mazarin. A remarkable talent for speaking gave him a distinguished reputation in the pulpit. He was appointed preacher to the king, abbe of Montfort, and grand-vicaire of Bourges. He advanced rapidly towards the first dignities of the church; but his mind had imbibed the spirit of the times. He was not a destructive, but a reformer of the church, in whose bosom he was born. His work, ent.i.tled _De l'Eglise Nationale_, proves in him as much respect for the principles of the Christian faith as boldness of desire to change its discipline. This philosophic faith, which so closely resembles the Christian Platonism which was paramount in Italy under the Medici, and even in the palace of the popes themselves under Leo X., breathed throughout his sacred discourses. The clergy was alarmed at these lights of the age s.h.i.+ning in the very sanctuary. The Abbe Fauchet was interdicted, and, struck off the list of the king's preachers.

But the Revolution already opened other tribunes to him. It burst forth, and he rushed headlong into it, as imagination rushes towards hope. He fought for it from the day of its birth, and with every kind of weapon.

He shook the people in the primary a.s.semblies, and in the sections; he urged with voice and gesture the insurgent ma.s.ses under the cannon of the Bastille. He was seen, sword in hand, to lead on the a.s.sailants.

Thrice did he advance, under fire of the cannon, at the head of the deputation which summoned the governor to spare the lives of the citizens, and to surrender.[15] He did not soil his revolutionary zeal with any blood or crime. He inflamed the mind of the people for liberty; but with him liberty was virtue; nature had endowed him with this twofold character. There were in his features the high-priest and the hero. His exterior pleased and attracted the populace. He was tall and slender, with a wide chest, oval countenance, black eyes, and his dark brown hair set off the paleness of his brow. His imposing but modest appearance inspired at the first glance favour and respect. His voice clear, impressive, and full-toned; his majestic carriage, his somewhat mystical style, commanded the reflection, as well as the admiration, of his auditors. Equally adapted to the popular tribune or the pulpit, electoral a.s.semblies or cathedral were alike too circ.u.mscribed in limits for the crowds who flocked to hear him. It seemed as though he were a revolutionary saint--Bernard preaching political charity, or the crusade of reason.

His manners were neither severe nor hypocritical. He; himself confessed that he loved with legitimate and pure; affection Madame Carron, who followed him every where, even to churches and clubs. ”They calumniated me with respect to her,” he said, ”and I attached myself the more strongly to her, and yet I am pure. You have seen her, even more lovely in mind than face, and who for the ten years I have known her seems to me daily more worthy of being loved. She would lay down her life for me; I would resign my life for her; but I would never sacrifice my duty to her. In spite of the malignant libels of the aristocrats, I shall go every day at breakfast-time to taste the charms of the purest friends.h.i.+p in her society. She comes to hear me preach! Yes, no doubt of it; no one knows better than herself the sincerity with which I believe in the truths I profess. She comes to the a.s.semblies of the Hotel-de-Ville!

Yes, no doubt of it: it is because she is convinced that patriotism is a second religion, that no hypocrisy is in my soul, and that my life is really devoted to G.o.d, to my country, and friends.h.i.+p.”

”And you dare to a.s.sert that you are chaste,” retorted the faithful and indignant priests, by the Abbe de Valmeron. ”How absurd! Chaste, at the moment when you confess the most unpardonable inclinations; when you attract a woman from the bed of her husband--her duties as a mother--when you take about every where this infatuated female, attached to your footsteps, in order to display her ostentatiously to the public gaze! And who follow, sir! A troop of ruffians and abandoned women.

Worthy pastor of this foul populace, which celebrates your pastoral visit by the only rejoicings that can give you pleasure--your progress is marked by every excess of rapine and debauchery.” These bitter reproaches resounded in the provinces, and caused great excitement. The conforming and nonconforming priests were disputing the altars. A letter from the minister of the interior came to authorise the nonjuring priests to celebrate the holy sacrifice in the churches where they had previously done duty. Obedient to the law, the const.i.tutional priests opened to them their chapels, supplied them with the ornaments necessary for divine wors.h.i.+p; but the mult.i.tude, faithful to their ancient pastors, threatened and insulted the new clergy. b.l.o.o.d.y struggles took place between the two creeds on the very threshold of G.o.d's house. On Friday, November the 4th, the former _cure_ of the parish of Saint Jean, at Caen, came to perform the ma.s.s. The church was full of Catholics.

This meeting offended the const.i.tutionalists and excited the other party. The _Te Deum_, as a thanksgiving, was demanded and sung by the adherents of the ancient _cure_, who, encouraged by this success, announced to the faithful that he should come again the next day at the same hour to celebrate the sacrament. ”Patience!” he added; ”let us be prudent, and all will be well.”

The munic.i.p.ality, informed of these circ.u.mstances, entreated the _cure_ to abstain from celebrating the ma.s.s the next day, as he had announced; and he complied with their wishes. The mult.i.tude, not informed of this, filled the church, and clamoured for the priest and the promised _Te Deum_. The gentry of the neighbourhood, the aristocracy of Caen, the clients and numerous domestics of the leading families in the neighbourhood, had arms under their clothes. They insulted the grenadiers; an officer of the national guard reprimanded them. ”You come to seek what you shall get,” replied the aristocrats: ”we are the stronger, and will drive you from the church.” At these words some young men rushed on the national guards to disarm them: a struggle ensued, bayonets glittered, pistol shots resounded in the cathedral, and they made a charge, sword in hand. Companies of cha.s.seurs and grenadiers entered the church, cleared it, and followed the crowd, step by step, who fired again upon them when in the street. Some killed and others wounded, were the sad results of the day. Tranquillity seemed restored.

Eighty-two persons were arrested, and on one of them was found a pretended plan of counter-revolution, the signal for which was to be given on the following Monday. These doc.u.ments were forwarded to Paris.

The nonjuring priests were suspended from the celebration of the holy mysteries in the churches of Caen until the decision of the National a.s.sembly. The a.s.sembly heard with indignation the recital of these troubles, occasioned by the enemies of the const.i.tution, and the adherents of fanaticism and the aristocracy. ”The only part we have to take,” said Cambon, ”is to convoke the high national court, and send the accused before it.” They deferred p.r.o.nouncing on this proposition until the moment when they should be in possession of all the papers relative to the troubles in Caen.

Gensonne detailed the particulars of similar disturbances in La Vendee: the mountains of the south, La Lozere, l'Herault, l'Ardeche, which were but ill repressed by the recent dispersion of the camp of Jales, the first act of the counter-revolutionary army, were now greatly agitated by the two-fold impulse of their priests and gentry. The plains, furnished with streams, roads, towns, and easily kept down by the central force, submitted without resistance to the _contre-coups_ of Paris. The mountains preserve their customs longer, and resist the influence of new ideas as to a conquest by armed strangers. It seems as though the appearance of these natural ramparts gave their inhabitants confidence in their strength, and a solid conviction of the unchangeableness of things, which prevents them from being so easily carried away by the rapid currents of alteration.

The mountaineers of these countries felt for their n.o.bles that voluntary and traditional devotion which the Arabs have for their sheiks, and the Scots for the chieftains of their clans. This respect and this attachment form part of the national honour in these rural districts.

Religion, more fervent in the south, was in the eyes of these people a sacred liberty, on which revolution made attempts in the name of political liberty. They preferred the liberty of conscience to the liberty as citizens. Under all these t.i.tles the new inst.i.tutions were odious: faithful priests nourished this hatred, and sanctified it in the hearts of the peasantry, whilst the n.o.bility kept up a royalism, which pity for the king's misfortunes and the royal family made more full of sympathy at the daily recital of fresh outrages.

Mende, a small village hidden at the bottom of deep valleys, half way between the plains of the south and those of the Lyonnais, was the centre of counter-revolutionary spirit. The _bourgeoisie_ and the n.o.bility, mingled together from the smallness of their fortunes, the familiarity of their manners, and the frequent unions of their families, did not entertain towards each other that intestine envy, hatred, and malice, which was favourable to the Revolution. There was neither pride in the one nor jealousy in the other: it was as it is in Spain, one single people, where n.o.bility is only, if we may say so, but a right of first birth of the same blood. These people had, it is true, laid down their arms after the insurrection of the preceding year in the camp of Jales: but hearts were far from being disarmed. These provinces watched with an attentive eye for the favourable moment in which they might rise _en ma.s.se_ against Paris. The insults to the dignity of the king, and the violence done to religion by the Legislative a.s.sembly, excited their minds even to fanaticism. They burst out again, as though involuntarily, on the occasion of a movement of troops across their valleys. The tricoloured c.o.c.kade, emblem of infidelity to G.o.d and the king, had entirely disappeared for several months in the town of Mende, and they put up the white c.o.c.kade, as a _souvenir_ and a hope of that order of things to which they were secretly devoted.

The directory of the department, consisting of men strangers to the country, resolved on having the emblem of the const.i.tution respected, and applied for some troops of the line. This the munic.i.p.ality opposed, in a resolution addressed to the directory, and made an insurrectional appeal to the neighbouring munic.i.p.alities, and a kind of federation with them to resist together the sending of any troops into their districts.