His spirits were kept up for some time with the daily expectation of being summoned to attend his trial. But time passed on, and he could obtain no tidings from the French government, or from his family. In a letter to General Bonaparte, beseeching him to let him know of what he was accused, and to grant him a trial, he wrote:-- "I have served my country with honor, fidelity, and integrity. All who know me will do me the justice to acknowledge this. At the time of the revolution, I spent all I had in the service of my country. I purchased but one small estate, on which to establish my wife and family. I neglected nothing for the welfare of St. Domingo. I made it my duty and pleasure to develop all the resources of that beautiful colony. Since I entered the service of the republic I have not claimed a penny of my salary. I have taken money from the treasury only for public use. If I was wrong in forming a constitution, it was through my great desire to do good, and thinking it would please the government under which I served. I have had the misfortune to incur your displeasure; but I am strong in the consciousness of integrity and fidelity; and I dare affirm that among all the servants of the state no one is more honest than myself." This letter is still in existence, and some of the words are blotted out by tears that fell while the noble captive was writing it. Bonaparte paid no attention to this manly appeal. After weary waiting, Toussaint wrote again:-- "First Consul, it is a misfortune to me that I am not known to you. If you had thoroughly known me while I was in St. Domingo, you would have done me more justice. I am not learned; I am ignorant: but my heart is good. My father showed me the road to virtue and honor, and I am very strong in my conscience in that matter. If I had not been so devoted to the French government I should not be here. All my life I have been in active service, and now I am a miserable prisoner, without power to do anything, sunk in grief, and with health impaired. I ask you for my freedom, that I may labor for the support of my family. For my venerable father, now a hundred and five years old, who is blind, and needs my assistance; for my dearly loved wife, who, separated from me, cannot, I fear, endure the afflictions that overwhelm her; and for my cherished family, who have made the happiness of my life. I call on your greatness. Let your heart be softened by my misfortunes."