negro chief, justly apprehending insincerity, stood
out and defended himself gallantly for a brief space;
but stronghold after stronghold yielded to numbers
and discipline; and at length he too submitted, on
condition that he should be permitted to retire in
safety to his plantation. Some obscure rumours
of insurrection were soon made the pretext for arresting
him; and he, being put on board ship, and sent to
France, was shut up in a dungeon, where either the
midnight cord or dagger, or the wasting influence of
confinement and hopeless misery, ere long put an end
to his life. His mysterious fate, both before
and after its consummation, excited great interest.[43]
The atrocious cruelty of the French soldiery, in their
subjugation of St. Domingo, equalled (it could not
have surpassed) that of the barbarous negroes whom
they opposed; but was heard of with disgust and horror,
such as no excesses of mere savages could have excited.
As if Heaven had been moved by these bloody deeds
of vengeance, disease broke out in the camp; thousands,
and among them Leclerc himself, died. For the
time, however, the French armament triumphed—and,
in the exultation of victory, the government at home
had the extreme and seemingly purposeless ungenerosity,
to publish an edict banishing all of the negro race
from their European dominions.[44] But the yellow fever
was already rapidly consuming the French army in St.
Domingo; and its feeble remnant, under Rochambeau,
having been at length expelled, in November, 1803,
the independence of
Hayti was formally proclaimed
on the 1st of January, 1804.
The course of Napoleon’s conduct, in and out
of Europe, was calculated to fill all independent
neighbours with new or aggravated suspicion; and in
England, where public opinion possesses the largest
means of making itself heard, and consequently the
greatest power, the prevalence of such feelings became,
from day to day, more marked. The British envoy’s
reclamation against the oppression of Switzerland,
was but one of many drops, which were soon to cause
the cup of bitterness to overflow. As in most
quarrels, there was something both of right and of
wrong on either side. When the English government
remonstrated against any of those daring invasions
of the rights of independent nations, or crafty enlargements,
through diplomatic means, of the power of France, by
which this period of peace was distinguished, the
Chief Consul could always reply that the cabinet of
St. James’s, on their part, had not yet fulfilled
one article of the treaty of Amiens, by placing Malta
in the keeping of some power which had been neutral
in the preceding war. The rejoinder was obvious:
to wit, that Napoleon was every day taking measures
wholly inconsistent with that balance of power which
the treaty of Amiens contemplated. It is not
to be denied that he, in his audaciously ambitious
movements, had contrived to keep within the strict
terms of the treaty: and it can as little be disputed
that the English cabinet had equity with them,
although they violated the letter of the law, in their
retention of the inheritance of the worthless and
self-betrayed Knights of St. John.