Avengers of the New World: The Story of the Haitian Revolution (30 page)

were calling for freedom for all slaves. The enemy, lamented one planter,

was “too numerous” and “their means of defense too great” for them to be

defeated. There was, in any case, no victory to be had. “Whichever way

things turn out, our ruin is total. If we do not defeat and destroy the rebel slaves, we will all end up being slaughtered by these monsters, and by destroying them we destroy our fortunes. For it is in these slaves that our for-d e f i a n c e

141

tunes exist.” Some whites sympathized with the rebels. In early 1793 one

resident of the south who had fought the insurgents there wrote to his

mother wondering: “Why is the desire to be free seen as a crime? . . . While

all of Europe resounds with the cries of liberty and equality, Saint-

Domingue rings with the voices of innumerable victims whom one slaugh-

ters without pity and who more than anyone have the right to revolt against

the hand that crushes them. What a century! What a philosophy!” Others

saw hope only in exile. Many, however, were determined to fight, such as

the planter who announced to “vile slaves” and “rebels” who had killed

many of his friends: “I will follow them coldbloodedly into the grave, and I

swear that you will see all my blood flow before I consent to your freedom,

because your slavery, my fortune, and my happiness are inseparable.” In

November 1792 another stated clearly an opinion that would be reiterated

by other planters in the next months: “We did not fetch half a million sav-

age slaves off the coast of Africa to bring them to the colony as French citizens.” He was wrong. Within the year the “savage slaves” he saw as nothing

but property would be just that: citizens.23

On September 17, 1792, the ship
America
arrived in the port of Le Cap.

On board were the three commissioners sent by the National Assembly to

govern Saint-Domingue: Léger Félicité Sonthonax, Etienne Polverel, and

Jean Antoine Ailhaud. Sonthonax and Polverel (having been abandoned by

Ailhaud soon after their arrival) would oversee a dramatic transformation

in the colony. Both had spoken out against slavery in previous years and

were bearers of a radical republicanism that was increasingly taking hold in

France. Their actions in Saint-Domingue would show a remarkable cour-

age and commitment to those radical ideals. But the transformation they

oversaw in the colony was determined less by what they brought from Eu-

rope than by their encounter with the power and political vision of the

slave insurgents who had begun their war for freedom in 1791.24

It was the first time that either man had set foot in Saint-Domingue.

Sonthonax came from a provincial family, wealthy though not aristocratic,

and in the 1780s had studied law at the University of Dijon. He then

moved to Paris, where he worked—as Moreau de St. Méry had a few years

before him—as a lawyer at the Paris Parlement. Polverel also came from

the provinces, from an aristocratic family, and was also trained in law. He

was a freemason, and in the decades before the Revolution was a member

of a Bordeaux lodge whose members included several free-coloreds from

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av e n g e r s o f t h e n e w w o r l d

Saint-Domingue. Although neither joined the Société des Amis des Noirs,

they were familiar with the antislavery thought of the Enlightenment. Af-

ter 1789 both wrote for some of the new newspapers that sprang up to

chronicle and propel the French Revolution. In 1789 Polverel wrote that

“nature has made men for liberty, for equality, and for society. No man was

given by nature the right to command other men or to sell them.” The

next year Sonthonax penned a remarkable prophesy in the newspaper

Révolutions de Paris:
“Yes, we dare to predict with confidence that the day will come—and the day is not too far off—when you will see a curly-haired

African, relying only on his virtue and good sense, coming to participate in

the legislative process in the midst of our national assemblies.”25

It was their encounter with the prominent abolitionist Jacques Brissot

de Warville that set them on their road to Saint-Domingue. Brissot acted

as a patron to both Sonthonax and Polverel in the Paris Jacobin Club,

where the two men gained experience dealing with colonial matters. In

1791 Polverel led a move to expel several members of the Club Massiac

from the Jacobin Club, asserting through his actions that there was no

place for proslavery views in his revolution. The next year Sonthonax sat

on a committee that issued a letter on behalf of the Jacobin Club support-

ing the May 15, 1791, decree granting political rights to some free-colored

men.26

When, in March and April 1792, Brissot and his allies gained control

over colonial policy and pushed through the April 4 decree granting politi-

cal rights to all free-coloreds, they turned to Sonthonax and Polverel. The

task of applying this decree in the colonies, as Brissot well knew, would

be a difficult one, and would require more firmness and ruthlessness than

the previous metropolitan representatives in Saint-Domingue had mus-

tered. Confident in their principles, Brissot supported the candidacy

of Sonthonax and Polverel to the position of commissioners for Saint-

Domingue. (He also supported the candidacy of Julien Raimond, but the

planters in the National Assembly successfully blocked this nomination.)

So it was that two provincial lawyers turned revolutionary journalists, nei-

ther of whom had any experience in the Caribbean, were handed the fate

of what had until recently been the most profitable colony in the world.27

Sonthonax and Polverel left the French port of Rochefort in late July

1792. According to their orders from the government, the commissioners

had the power to suspend or dissolve the existing colonial assemblies and

to take “all measures necessary” to apply the April 4 decree. They were ac-

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companied by 6,000 troops and a printing press. Also on board was the new

governor-general of Saint-Domingue, Desparbès, who was supposed to

take control of military matters in the colony. As had often been the case in the Old Regime, the division of power created problems. The commissioners and governor clashed as they crossed the Atlantic, and within a few

months of their arrival in Saint-Domingue Sonthonax and Polverel de-

posed Desparbès.28

Predictably, the appointment of Sonthonax and Polverel was contested

by the planters in Paris. Unable to stop the departure of the new commis-

sioners, the planters did what they could to make their landing difficult.

One planter wrote in colorfully alarmist terms to the Colonial Assembly

about “secret” plans they were carrying from the National Assembly for the

“general emancipation” of the slaves. Their convoy, he claimed, was carry-

ing 20,000 rifles with which to arm the slaves, who, once they had been

freed, were to be turned against all “the foreign colonies” in order to carry

“revolt, and then independence, throughout the New World.” The com-

missioners he added, loved only the blacks and would attack all the whites

and free-coloreds “without distinction.” He called on the people of Saint-

Domingue to reject the “those tigers thirsty for blood” and to suffocate

their “barbarous projects.”29

On their arrival in Saint-Domingue the commissioners did what they

could to dispel such fears, announcing clearly that they had come to grant

political rights to free-coloreds in order to salvage slavery, not destroy

it. Sonthonax declared that the colonial assemblies were the only bodies

with “the right to rule on the lot of the slaves” and that slavery was “necessary to the cultivation and prosperity of the colonies.” It was neither his nor the National Assembly’s intention to attack the rights of the planters in this regard. (Several months later, in a private letter to Brissot, Sonthonax

noted his opposition to any sudden emancipation, which would “undoubt-

edly lead to the massacre of all the whites.”) The commissioners also

made clear, however, that they would no longer tolerate racial prejudice.

“Henceforth,” announced Sonthonax, “we recognize only two classes of

men in the French part of Saint Domingue: free men without any distinc-

tion of color, and slaves.” They were ready to use the extensive powers they

had been granted to confront any “defiance” by the colony’s residents.30

There was enough defiance to go around. An increasing number of

white planters, wary of the radicalization of the Revolution, were joining

the royalist opposition that existed throughout France. They shared with it

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av e n g e r s o f t h e n e w w o r l d

many general concerns, but they also had a particular worry: many be-

lieved that “having proclaimed equality” the French National Convention

would soon “proclaim general emancipation.” Rejecting republicanism and

embracing the white flag of the royalists would not only strike a blow for

the king but might also save slavery in the colony. Planters with royalist

sympathies could look to the examples of Martinique and Guadeloupe,

where in late 1792 white planters had successfully expelled Republican ad-

ministrators.31

Sonthonax and Polverel might have expected to find a supportive coun-

terweight to the royalists among poorer, pro-Republican whites. Some

residents did support their regime: “Things are better now that the com-

missioners are here,” one would write in mid-1793. But many who were

partisans of revolutionary change tended to support autonomy for Saint-

Domingue, and were often as hostile to the threat of a “tyrannical” metro-

politan authority as planters were. Furthermore, despite the various

official attempts to encourage cooperation between whites and free-

coloreds, racial conflict continued to polarize the colony. Just before the

commissioners arrived, fighting between whites and free-coloreds in Le

Cap had left several dead. And wealthy planters such as de Jumecourt and

the marquis de Rouvray, who had led the move for reconciliation with free-

coloreds, were already firmly anti-Republican, and indeed would soon turn

to enemy powers. As the commissioners quickly came to understand, they

were to find little support anywhere among the white population.32

In October 1792 startling news arrived in the colony: an August uprising

in Paris had led to the suspension of the king by the National Assembly. A

new assembly, based on universal manhood suffrage, was to be elected: the

National Convention. France had become a republic. Many were violently

opposed to this change, both inside and outside France. For the more radi-

cal leaders of the Revolution, notably those concentrated in the Jacobin

Club, it was vital to defend the fledgling republic by any means necessary.

With enemies rallying at the borders—the threat of war with all the kings

of Europe was looming on the horizon—internal dissent was branded as

treason and repressed with increasing violence. Power was increasingly

concentrated in the hands of a few powerful leaders in the National Con-

vention’s committees, such as the Committee of Public Safety. Sonthonax

and Polverel received expanded powers: they could suspend all adminis-

trators and officers who were disloyal enough to oppose them.33

Over the next months the two commissioners eliminated most of their

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145

enemies and consolidated their political power. Having expelled

Desparbès, they replaced him with General Donatien Marie Joseph de

Rochambeau, who had been sent to Martinique as the new governor but,

because of the royalist takeover there, had been forced to continue on to

Saint-Domingue. The commissioners disbanded all existing assemblies in

the colony, including the Colonial Assembly, announcing they would be re-

placed with new ones elected by both whites and free-coloreds. In fact,

though, there were not to be new elections in Saint-Domingue—not yet.

Instead, Sonthonax and Polverel replaced the assembly with an “Interme-

diary Commission.” Six of its members were chosen by the outgoing Colo-

nial Assembly, who selected six whites. The other six were to be chosen

by the commissioners, who selected six free men of color, including Pierre

Pinchinat. The racially integrated commission—the first of its kind in

the colony—was a powerful symbol of what the commissioners hoped to

achieve. But it had little power—or will—to oppose the Republican com-

missioners who had formed it.34

In late October the three commissioners split up, with Polverel and

Ailhaud leaving to assume governance in the west and south. Ailhaud took

advantage of the move to escape from Saint-Domingue, leaving Polverel

in charge of both regions. Sonthonax, more strident and combative than

Polverel, was soon embroiled in conflict in Le Cap. When a group of

whites broke into a prison and massacred whites and slave insurgents

locked up there, he blamed the attack on a political group in Le Cap and

disbanded it. When Polverel criticized his actions, Sonthonax retorted:

“You accuse me of having violated in this the rights of man and citizen, as