The Haitian Trilogy: Plays: Henri Christophe, Drums and Colours, and The Haytian Earth (32 page)

TOUSSAINT

General Leclerc, I was a slave. I understand.

LECLERC

Oh, we must clarify the distinction, General.

You are not our slave exactly but our prisoner.

A hostage to peace. A contract arranged

Between France and your comrade generals.

You may hoist sail, Captain.

(
The
CAPTAIN
looks in.
)

CAPTAIN

                                                  Excellency …

(
He exits.
)

TOUSSAINT

How far do I go, monsieur?

LECLERC

Quite far.

TOUSSAINT

                   For … for how long?

(
LECLERC
.
Silence. Then
 …)

LECLERC

I don’t manage these things. That’s up

To the First Consul.

TOUSSAINT

I have served France.

LECLERC
(
Wryly
)

You have served everybody.

TOUSSAINT
(
At the window.
)

I served her.

That place.

LECLERC

                     Why do we call countries women?

We see them as wives or whores. It is a piece of earth.

Frankly, I was hoping to avoid all of this sentiment.

I was hoping that you would not have forced me

To harden my heart. I admire your genius.

So do your two generals, Dessalines and Christophe.

TOUSSAINT

They betrayed me to my enemy so that there could be peace?

They aren’t Africans but slaves. Pets of your empire. Swine, not panthers!

LECLERC

Besides, I’m not sure that what protects you from tribal genocide

Isn’t this very empire that you mock. Before it, you were hungry

Wolves drinking the wind, tearing one another with your teeth.

TOUSSAINT

We have no wolves here. Wild boars, yes. Illiterate. Both of them.

LECLERC

Whichever predator you prefer. But with it, not only a common hate herded you together, but I’m tired of metaphor, I’m a rational man, a soldier with fever, not delirium, before it, wolves, boars; but with it, under it, under the French flag with its three colours, its three principles, you straightened up from animals to men. It is discipline that straightened your spine. It is our laws, our books, our courts, our language, our uniforms, our architecture that you would like to practise now, isn’t that correct? Then why be wolfish, why bite the hand that fed you? That taught you to add and write?

TOUSSAINT

I have always appreciated that. But those are ideals, as much as the Christian Church is an ideal. The empire wasn’t built on that, General.

LECLERC

I am talking about civilisation!

TOUSSAINT

I am remembering civilisation. All those glorious white marbles in your museums, all your Gothic arches, your embroidered books. What do they mean to a slave whose back is flayed so raw that, like a book, you can read the spine? I should be talking to your cousin-in-law the Emperor. We are not equals in rank. I wouldn’t discuss civilisation with my corporals.

LECLERC

Come, Commander General, you are more than that.

(
A sail is hoisted, creaking.
)

TOUSSAINT

                                             I am not the Commander General.

My name is François-Dominique Toussaint,

I am a coachman. I was employed under the kind care

Of Monsieur Calixte-Breda. I also suffer from … hallucinations,

Brought on by old age and the toothache,

And I have had, Doctor, this persistent dream

That all slaves, brothers, Africans, whatever,

Would follow me, this coachman, towards … towards … towards …

They have hoisted the sail. The longboat is ready.

You must go. The earth is cracked. There is division among

The soldiers. There must be peace.

LECLERC

Call yourself a hostage to peace, General.

And you promise the First Consul to cooperate

For the sake of peace; that when you are in exile

You will not try to make use of your authority?

TOUSSAINT

                                                                               My authority?

When this voice had authority it lived

In expectation of an echo. By the sea, armies!

Breakers throwing their caps in the air!

Lances of men bowed to it like the canes.

Now it’s an old man’s cough. Rattling gravel

In a riverbed. My tongue is a dry leaf. The sun has set

In my throat. My authority is hoarse. A child

Wouldn’t obey it. Much less hear it. No, sir,

You needn’t worry about my authority.

Any more than Moise.

LECLERC

                                        You mean Moise, your general?

Isn’t he dead?

TOUSSAINT

                         He lives in his uncle.

When his uncle dies, General Moise will die.

But they will die with me, every one of them

Who believed I saved this country for myself.

In those days when I had authority.

LECLERC

Don’t smile at me as if I laid a trap.

It was your own generals who approached me.

TOUSSAINT

The thought is common, the execution expected.

Nothing should startle a government, treaties, betrayals,

And done out of expediency, not friendship.

Once, I changed sides myself, and it surprised them.

I often wonder why I fought this war.

The war had all it needed, in campaigning.

For strategy: Christophe, for fury: Dessalines.

Why was I there? To curry-comb their horses?

Now they have offered me a greater choice than war

Without even my asking them. What a gift;

What, ultimately, an exact compensation.

To make myself a sacrifice, if not for war,

But for the original intention: peace.

I’ll go to my exile as Moise went to his,

That one where there is no passport needed,

No shadowy customs. He will say “Uncle,”

I’ll embrace him.

LECLERC

                              I know. General …

(
He extends his hand.
)

Adieu.

TOUSSAINT
(
Taking it.
)

We have been good enemies. Perhaps the First Consul

Will treat me as you have.

(
LECLERC
descends the ship’s side.
)

LECLERC

                                             Oh, I’m sure of that. Now,

After this, you will be confined to your cabin.

Take a long, last look at those mountains, General.

TOUSSAINT

                                                                                    
Haiti, adieu.

(
LECLERC
climbs onto the pier. The ship moves out of the harbour. Music. Fade-out.
)

Scene 8

Belle Maison. Interior. Night. The quarters.
YETTE
goes to the earthen oven and prepares supper. Her back turned to
POMPEY
,
entering. He embraces her, wearily, from habit.

POMPEY

Ça raide.
Is hard. All the men going.

They tired of the earth. The last one, Félix,

Leave today, to join the army.

YETTE

Which one?

POMPEY

                     You know Félix.

How you mean “which one”?

He always watching you.

YETTE

Which army?

(
She comes to the crude table with the pot.
)

POMPEY

How I know which army? It have so many.

Maybe Christophe, maybe Dessalines, maybe

Pétion, maybe even Leclerc. Or with your

People, the mulattos, Royer and Pétion.

YETTE

My people. So is my people again?

POMPEY
(
Touching her hand.
)

Pardon, but I tired. The mule is sick.

(
He begins eating.
)

They say that Dessalines, and some say even

Christophe, hunting down our people, all the

Blacks, under the orders of General Leclerc.

YETTE

You must wear that nasty cloth?

If you want a serviette when you eating, tell me

And I will wash one. But I can’t bear to see it.

I hate when you wipe your mouth on your sleeve.

(
POMPEY
,
hurt, stops eating. His eyes flicker with the old fear of her restlessness.
)

POMPEY

All right. You see me,
hein?
Making pose.

I thought you would like it. For manners.

You know, like the aristocrats.

(
A silence. Night outside. The insects, and the wind.
)

You not going to eat, then?

(
YETTE
moves away to the oven. She pauses there, her back to him.
)

Yette?

Qui ça?

(
Silence. The night. The wind.
)

Tell me.

I can take it.

YETTE

Yes. You so strong. So nice. So good.

Is I who am nothing.

No. Don’t come by me.

(
POMPEY
sits back down. He looks into his bowl. He swallows dryly, his head down.
)

I want the strength.

(
She turns.
)

Ti-moune
 …

(
She turns away again.
)

All this, all this, is only sadness for me, Pompey.

Since I was a girl I know this war. Here is,

Well, different. Is pretty, true. Is really, really pretty …

(
POMPEY
silently, expressionlessly, weeping.
)

I know you crying, but I must still talk. I see you in the field there, you alone, planting, you and the damn mule, and I know how much you love the earth. And I wish I could love you like you love the earth. But in the war, when I was with the soldiers, even the white soldiers, even when I used to feel so shame, I know I was not for this country life. Maybe because I have their blood in me. French blood. Maybe I want all that. My life is Le Cap. But sometimes I does just feel, at my age, like an old black woman up in the mountains with my teeth going, my body getting dry, and nothing to do but cook white yam and a piece of saltfish for you. You understand what I am saying?…

(
YETTE
turns to
POMPEY
.
He has turned sideways in his chair, to avoid her pity.
)

POMPEY

I understand. You asking to go.

You are too fine for all of this. Is true.

YETTE

I suppose so. I don’t know. To go again.

I didn’t know I could say it.

POMPEY

They say there is nothing in Le Cap now,

Since General Christophe burn it. But

There is what you want. Not that?

YETTE

Look, I am weak?

POMPEY

What you asking me, woman?

YETTE

If I am weak?

POMPEY

Ask yourself that. Ask God that. Not me.

You cannot expect me to say that.

YETTE

They give you this big house

And you will not live in it. Look at us.

Look at it. Up there, empty. Look how we live,

Eat. It is yours. You frightened to go in it.

You bring me back here. To live how I used to.

Look at your clothes. There are clothes in that house.

POMPEY

What you doing to me, woman?

What kind of man you making out of me?

YETTE

Don’t beg me, then,
Ti-moune.
Tell me.

Give me an order like a soldier. Tell me to go!

You was never a soldier. Try. Like a soldier to his whore.

Order me stay and I will stay. Otherwise, otherwise,

Oh God, what will happen to me?

(
She is at his knees, sobbing.
)

POMPEY

Stay.

(
Pause.
)

Stay. Not for me. But because

There is nothing else. Now let me eat.

And from now on, we will live.

(
YETTE
rises, wipes her face. She shakes her head.
)

We will live the way you want to. Clothes, lace.

Servants, if you want servants. You deserve it.

YETTE

It was not for that …

POMPEY

Maybe. But that is where we will live, anyway.

Over there. When I finish in the earth,

I will come into the big house, a different

Man. Not to please you. But it will be Pompey,
le Bourgeois;

Pompey, the man of property. It will be amusing, for

A while. Here. Money. Go into Le Cap and buy some clothes.

YETTE

That is not what I want,
Ti-moune.

(
She sits opposite him.
)

I was just tired.

POMPEY

Nevertheless, we will do that.

YETTE

Moi aimais-ou Ti-moune.

I love you for yourself, Pompey.

POMPEY

Yes.