Le Clerc was still obliged to wear his boots, for Toussaint was not taken, nor even Crête à Pierrot. The French then sat down before this fort to invest and besiege it in regular form, for the blacks fought like devils; they would not fly. During this time, Toussaint is not idle—everywhere the master-spirit is at work. He goes like the wind—he counsels—he schemes—he fights—he dares—he goes into the churches of the island, and with few and manly words rouses his people—he strengthens Charles Bellair in the mountain of Verettes—he cheers Maurepas in the northwest—he comes with a small force to Ennery, and the French garrison fly before him—he appears before Gonaïves—he hastens to Marmalade, and sends a new plan of operations to Christophe in the North—he goes to Plaisance, captures a fort, marches his troops to meet Desforneaux, and beats him back. Learning, then, that the fort of Crête à Pierrot was in danger, he hastens with a small and resolute force, determined to surprise and carry off Le Clerc. It is too late! Lamartinière, to whom Dessalines had entrusted the defense of the fort, had done all that skill, and courage, and heroism, could do, and at last had cut his way through the French lines, leaving only the ruined fortress and the bodies of dead men to the French army—no more, not even glory![60] The fortress of Crête à Pierrot had fallen, and five thousand gallant Frenchmen were disabled or dead! The black soldiers of St. Domingo had met the white soldiers of France, and had proved themselves men. The fortress had fallen, but not Toussaint. The French army, in separate divisions, took different directions. The country seemed to swarm with blacks, and they spared neither their own lives nor the lives of the French. General Hardy dragged his weary march towards Cap François, and five hundred of his men were destroyed before he reached it, yet no battle was fought. Boudet’s division returned to Port au Prince. Charles Bellair hung upon him—harassed him, and when he entered Port au Prince, a studied display was necessary to conceal his frightful losses. In the North, the war was kept alive by Christophe. The blacks were everywhere beaten—but the situation of the French was one of extreme difficulty. Le Clerc had learned the truth of what Vincent had told Napoleon—“At the head of so many resources is a man, the most active and indefatigable that can possibly be imagined.” Though many of the blacks had joined the French, yet, fear of slavery, and hatred of white dominion, made the rest desperate—they were men to die. Of what use to fight against these? Victory was barren: ruined forts—burned cities—putrefying carcasses—desolate fields, were the rewards of the French. The climate was intolerable, the work of the soldiers severe, and they murmured; they said, “the Consul has sent us here to perish.” Twelve thousand of them were dead or in the hospitals. Le Clerc again tried diplomacy and persuasion, and with success. FOOTNOTES: