On the 13th of August, a close carriage rolls rapidly away from Brest—rapidly through France, guarded only by a few dragoons. Few knew whom it contained, few remarked upon it; for such things were common enough in Napoleon’s day, as they were before and have been since. The Castle of Joux, in the high rocks which border Switzerland, receives the prisoner. Alone with his servant, he passes the weary days in inaction,—with crushed hopes, with lacerated affections. He sees his wife, his children, no more—no more the sunny hights of St. Domingo—no more the luxuriant valleys of Ennery. He knows he is doomed; yet his soul is too strong for despair. His letters to Napoleon are manly and simple; they meet with no reply but a visit from Caffarelli, to discover where he had buried his gold![68] Ten long months drag themselves away—the cold winds of the mountains pierce the sensitive body of the prisoner—the trickling water on the walls of his dungeon is turned to ice[69]—the single servant is taken away.[70] For three days the governor of the castle is absent, and none see the prisoner. When he returns, cold, hunger, and disappointment have done their work. The kind angel, Death, has carried the soul through the prison bars. The Hero of the Blacks is no more. Toussaint is dead![71] The first of the whites stands alone! A few short years, and Waterloo came, and then the unscrupulous victor of a hundred fights fretted out his diseased life, and cursed his angry gods, on the lonely rock of St. Helena. The first of the blacks died at Joux; the first of the whites at St. Helena. Judge between them. The following is Wordsworth’s sonnet, written during the disappearance of Louverture. “Toussaint, the most unhappy man of men! Whether the whistling rustic tend his plough Within thy hearing, or thy head be now Pillow’d in some deep dungeon’s earless den: Oh, miserable Chieftain! where and when Wilt thou find patience? Yet, die not; do thou Wear rather, in thy bonds, a cheerful brow. Though fallen thyself, never to rise again, Live and take comfort. Thou hast left behind Powers that will work for thee: _air_, _earth_ and _skies_. There’s not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee; thou hast great allies; Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man’s unconquerable mind.” FOOTNOTES: [68] LACROIX, v. ii., p. 208. [69] IBID., v. ii., p. 204. [70] RAINSFORD, p. 324. [71] _Biogr. Universelle._ RAINSFORD says that he died at Besançon. p. 323. Transcriber’s Notes pg 16 Changed: unbidden, struck the Marsellaise to: unbidden, struck the Marseillaise pg 16 Changed: killed by his postillon to: killed by his postillion pg 66 Changed: Toussant reads it. to: Toussaint reads it. pg 67 Changed: now all his confusion and misery to: now all is confusion and misery