A Memoir of Transactions That Took Place in St. Domingo, in the Spring of 1799 Affording an Idea of the Present State of that Country, the Real Character of Its Black Governor, Toussaint L'ouverture, and the Safety of our West-India Islands, from Attack or Revolt

The object of public attention is ever the sport of public rumour; and truth is not infrequently affected by the fabrications of the idle and the ignorant, when men and things are misrepresented by popular prejudice.

The present armament of Bonaparte against St. Domingo, and the general alarm for the safety of our colonial possessions from the powerful situation of the Brigands in that island, have occasioned much conjecture, but produced no authentic information, while on a subject of such importance it becomes a duty in those competent in any degree, to relieve the anxiety of the public mind. Had Bryan Edwards lived, we should not so long have fluctuated in uncertainty.

The present writer has by no means presumed to increase the number of ephemeral details, as contradictory as untrue, which have been offered to the public, of transactions that have now too long deformed this delightful country. In the dangerous duties of his profession, the common accidents of war afforded him a peculiar opportunity of judging (among other affairs) of the present state of St. Domingo, of its defence, and of the character of its extraordinary Governor.

The events themselves, with the opinions resulting from them, form, then, the subject of these pages; and authenticity will supply the place of the decorations of style. To preclude, however, the possibility of doubt, I think it necessary to say thus much of myself:—

Born of a respectable family in the kingdom of Ireland (where my elder brother, Counsellor Rainsford, now enjoys the liberal fortune of our ancestors)[1] I early embraced the military profession, and joined a regiment under the command of the Earl of Moira, in which I served during the American war. Our corps was considerably employed during two campaigns, and was in the memorable battles of Camden, &c. I afterwards unfortunately left that regiment to enter into a provincial one, commanded by the late Lord Charles Montague, and served in Jamaica four years. On the commencement of the present war, I went to the continent in the corps of Royal Fusileers commanded by Colonel Hardy, and shared its complicated hardships during the retreat.[2]

I was removed in May, 1795, through the interest of my inestimable brother-in-law, General Doyle, to a black corps, to be raised in the West Indies, under the command of General Keppel. I went to Barbadoes, and from thence to Jamaica, where the corps was to be raised. I arrived on the 17th of August, and continued on duty till a severe attack of the yellow fever compelled my return in his Majesty’s ship, Sampson. After recovering in England, at the instance of his Royal Highness the Duke of York I went to Martinique in 1798, but it not being understood by General Keppel that his corps was to be levied there, he ordered me back to Jamaica, from whence, I found on my arrival, the officers had sailed for England.

Desirous, as I always am, of being with my regiment, to facilitate that object I undertook the mode of returning to Martinique by beating up to the island of St. Thomas, an exertion of considerable difficulty and danger. This, however, I but little regarded; and Admiral Smith, with whom I had been long acquainted, kindly accommodated me in his cabin on board the Hannibal to the Mole St. Nicholas. Losing no opportunity of proceeding on my voyage, I went on board a little Danish schooner, commanded by Mr. Frazer.

We had not been many days at sea, when a violent hurricane having dismasted the vessel, drove us under the walls of Cape François. Thus unfortunately commenced the opportunities of obtaining that information and forming that judgment of the Present State of St. Domingo, which I am about to submit to the public. Had I conceived it possible, at that time, that a relation of facts respecting that unhappy country would have become so interesting to my friends, I might from these opportunities have collected much respecting it, and been enabled to communicate what I collected in a better form.

Thus situated, the Brigand boats soon came out to meet us; and it was recommended to me, as the only means to prevent the confiscation of the vessel, and avoid becoming myself a prisoner of war, to pass for an American.

We were permitted to land at the once famous city of the Cape; and the first object that excited our attention amidst thousands of People of Colour of every description, was the respectable TOUSSAINT in familiar conversation with two private Brigands. He very civilly came up to us—enquired the news—from whence we came? and our destination. I accommodated my answers to the occasion, and to the character I was to support, and complained of severe treatment from the English! to which he replied, “_Je pense que les Anglois y sont bien malade à la Mole_”—he believed the English were very sick at the Mole—and we took our leave.

I then retired to the American hotel, and was introduced to the table d’ hote—to behold for the first time a perfect system of equality!

Here were officers and privates, the general and the fifer, at the same table indiscriminately. I had the honour of sitting near a fat drummer, who very freely helped himself from my dish, and addressed me with frequent repetitions of “_A votre Santé bon Americain_.” Here also TOUSSAINT dined, but did not take the head of the table, from the idea (I was informed) that no man should be invested with superiority but in the field. In the evening I went to the billiard table, where TOUSSAINT also came. Much hilarity prevailed, and his affability highly increased the satisfaction of the company. I played with him, and found nothing to dissipate the pleasure which the novelty of the scene inspired. There were several tables in the same room, at which all played with the same familiarity with which they dined.

I was here informed that a review was to take place on the following day, in the plain of the Cape; and desirous of being present at such a spectacle, I was accompanied by some Americans, and others of my own country who resided in the island under that appellation.

In traversing this once superb town, what a scene of desolation every where presented itself to my contemplation! On the site where elegance and luxury had united all their powers to delight the voluptuary, remained nothing but ruins. On these were erected temporary houses for the American merchants and little shops of the natives, which but exhibited the devastation with additional horror. The great street still contained the walls of many superb edifices of five and six stories high, and most beautiful structure; highly-finished gilt balustrades, in some instances, yet remained. Nor was this all—in different parts of the general ruin the skeletons of their possessors were mingled with the broken walls—

“There in the ruin, heedless of the dead, “The shelter-seeking peasant rears his shed; “And, wondering man could want the larger pile, “Exults, and owns his cottage with a smile.”

Through this dreadful scene I passed to behold a review, of the real grandeur of which I had not the least conception. There were two thousand officers out, Generals and Ensigns, all carrying arms—yet with the utmost regularity and attention to rank—none of that disregard which had marked the leisure of the preceding day being the least evident. Each general officer had a demi-brigade, which went through the manual exercise with a degree of expertness I had seldom before witnessed, and they performed excellently well several manœuvres applicable to their method of fighting. At a whistle a whole brigade ran three or four hundred yards, and then, separating, threw themselves flat on the ground, changing to their backs and sides, and all the time keeping up a strong fire till recalled—after this they formed again into their wonted regularity; and this manœuvre is executed with such facility and precision, as totally to prevent cavalry from charging them in bushy and hilly countries. Indeed, such complete subordination prevailed, so much promptness and dexterity, as must astonish an European who had known any thing of their previous situation.

After the review I returned to the city, to continue my solitary walk through the remaining monuments of human ferocity, and indulge in contemplating the vanity of all sublunary establishments.

I was brooding over scenes where Fancy herself had once been satiated, when I arrived at a large square, in the centre of which was a considerable eminence, and a seat on the top;—there were two centinels to guard it—of whom I enquired if I might ascend the steps? They answered in the affirmative, but cautioned me not to touch the Cap of Liberty which crowned it, for it was SACRED TO SANTHONAX AND POLVEREL! My curiosity induced me to ascend; when I perused, immediately under the cap, a showy inscription in French, of which I do not exactly recollect the idiom, not daring to take a copy, but it was to the following purport—

My Friends, We came to make you free. The French Nation gives liberty to the World. YOU ARE FREE. Guard your Freedom. Vive la Liberte—Vive la Republique. Vive Robespierre!

This inscription, I understand, formed a part of their speech in 1793, when the Blacks and the Mulattos carried them in triumph to the Government-House, and afterwards set fire to the city in eight different places. They used every woman with savage barbarity, and then murdered with the bayonet, man, woman, and child. Sixty-two thousand inhabitants left the city. They exterminated the Whites, and revelled in their cruelty eighteen days! Such is man when in the possession of power! and happy would it be for the human race if the Insurgents of St. Domingo, so little removed from savage life, were not countenanced by those who have partaken of the felicities of civilized society. Of the carnage that flew through this island enough has already been said; but it is yet in the recollection of many Americans, that the view of the city in flames, the adjacent sugar works, &c. was the most dreadful ever beheld.

After a long perambulation over these scenes of former horrors, I returned to the hotel, but with a mind so much impressed with what I had seen, that for a considerable time I could not divest myself of the most terrible ideas:—my imagination was haunted with the shades of those who had fallen, and murdered worth and innocence were ever before my eyes.——I was also dissuaded from walking too much, lest by some observation I might be suspected not to be an American.

For three weeks I continued among these people; and, except the recollection of what had been, without any other sacrifice than my wish to be on duty, and the necessity of subscribing to every sentiment hostile to my country, I enjoyed the amusements and the habits of a capital. I remained unmolested and comfortable.

On the topography of the island, I shall not retail what is told by those who recite its history, nor have I ever had leisure to inspect it. It is, I believe, considered the richest, as well as the largest of all the islands, except Cuba; and nature seems to have lavished on it the advantages which are but partial in the others. It extends about 400 miles in length, and is more than 70 in breadth, yet completely peopled. Its natural defence is unequalled, being entirely fortified by vast rocks and extensive shoals. It contains gold (perhaps really the least valuable of its productions) and the most charming rivers meander through its variegated soil.