Toussaint, who was sincerely desirous to preserve the public peace, and who was too honest to suspect treachery under such a friendly form, went to General Brunet's head-quarters, with a few attendants, on the 10th of June, 1802. He was received with the greatest respect and cordiality. His host consulted with him concerning the interests of the colony; and they examined maps together till toward evening, when General Brunet left the room. An officer with twenty armed men entered, saying: "The Captain-General has ordered me to arrest you. Your attendants are overpowered. If you resist, you are a dead man." Toussaint's first impulse was to defend himself; but seeing it would be useless against such numbers, he resigned himself to his hard fate, saying, "Heaven will avenge my cause." His papers were seized, his house rifled and burned, his wife and children captured, and at midnight they were all carried on board the French ship Hero, without being allowed to take even a change of clothing. His wrists were chained, he was locked in a cabin guarded by soldiers with fixed bayonets, and not permitted to hold any communication with his family. As the vessel sailed away from St. Domingo, Toussaint, gazing on the outline of its mountains for the last time, said, "They have cut down the tree of Liberty; but the roots are many and deep, and it will sprout again." Toussaint l'Ouverture was even then incapable of imagining the base designs against him. He supposed that he had been accused of something, and was to be carried to France for trial. Conscious of uniform fidelity to the French government, he felt no uneasiness as to the result, though the treachery and violence with which he had been treated in return for his great services made him very sad. Arrived on the shores of France, he was removed to another vessel, and allowed only a few moments to say farewell to his wife and children. They embraced him with tears, and begged him to remember them, who had always loved him so dearly. From the vessel, instead of being carried to Paris for trial, as he expected, he was hurried into a carriage, and, followed by a strong guard, was carried to the dismal Castle of Joux, near the borders of Switzerland. That ancient castle stands among the mountains of Jura, on the summit of a solid rock five hundred feet high. He was placed in a deep, dark dungeon, from the walls of which the water dripped continually. This was in August, 1802. But though it was summer elsewhere, it was damp and cold in Toussaint's dreary cell. The keeper was allowed about four shillings a day to provide food for him; and one faithful servant, who had accompanied the family from St. Domingo, was allowed to remain with him.