The French Commissioners were getting into straits. The Spanish troops were against them, the blacks were against them, the remaining whites were divided—some wore the black cockade, others the white; the troops and friends of the commissioners, the tricolor; the mulattoes, the red; war was everywhere, and no man was safe but with arms in his hands, and in the strongest party. But this was not enough; some of the planters mounted the English hat and sent to the English for succor. Even “Perfide Albion” was welcome, if they might but reëstablish slavery and get again their estates. In this extremity, Santhonax decided to make friends with the blacks, and proclaimed at Cap François universal freedom (20th Aug., 1793). Polverel repeated the proclamation at Port au Prince.[30] The enthusiasm among the negroes was great, but not universal. Their leaders were not moved; they distrusted the Commissioners, and they doubted the stability of the French Republic; so the war went on. In September, the English landed at Jeremie, in the extreme southwest. They took possession of St. Nicholas, in the extreme northwest, and during the year 1794, the whole western coast was in their possession—St. Nicholas, St. Marc, Jacmel, Tiburon, Jeremie; and at last, on the 4th of June, Port au Prince, the capital, yielded. “Twenty-two top-sail vessels,” with their cargoes, worth 400,000 pounds sterling, were a part of the spoil. The mulatto chief, Rigaud, had taken the side of France. Educated in Bordeaux, he had followed, in St. Domingo, his trade of a goldsmith, which the whites thought “too good for a nigger.” He was a brave man, mild in peace, terrible in war, and, aided by Petion, he kept up a harassing fight against the English. Shortly after the fall of Port au Prince, a ship arrived with a requisition for the Commissioners to return to France; they must answer for their doings there, and General Laveaux was left as provisional governor. His case, and that of the French, was desperate. Shut up in Port de Paix, the last stronghold of the French, he wrote, (24th May, 1794):—“For more than six months we have been reduced to six ounces of bread a day, officers as well as men; but from the 13th, we have none whatever, the sick only excepted. If we had powder we should have been consoled. We have in our magazines, neither shoes, nor shirts, nor clothes, nor soap, nor tobacco. The most of the soldiers mount guard barefoot: we have not flints for the men. But be assured, that we will never surrender; be assured, too, that, after us, the enemy will not find the slightest trace of Port de Paix.”[31] Dark was the outlook, but brave was the heart of General Laveaux. FOOTNOTES: [30] BROWN’S _Hist._, v. i, p. 255. [31] BEARD’S _Life_, p. 82. BROWN’S _History_. VIII.