This touching appeal met with the same fate as the first. Bonaparte even had the meanness to forbid the prisoner's wearing an officer's uniform. When he asked for a change of clothing, the cast-off suit of a soldier and a pair of old boots were sent him. There seemed to be a deliberate system of heaping contempt upon him. The daily sum allowed for his food was diminished, and the cold winds of autumn began to howl round his dungeon. They doubtless thought that so old a man, accustomed to tropical warmth, and the devotion of a loving family, would die under the combined influence of solitude, cold, and scanty food. But his iron constitution withstood the severe test. The next step was to deprive him of his faithful servant, Mars Plaisir. Seeing him weep bitterly, Toussaint said to him: "Would I could console thee under this cruel separation. Be assured I shall never forget thy faithful services. Carry my last farewell to my wife and family." The farewell never reached them. Mars Plaisir was lodged in another prison, lest he should tell of the slow murder that was going on in the Castle of Joux. Toussaint's supply of food was gradually diminished, till he had barely enough to keep him alive,--merely a little meal daily, which he had to prepare for himself in an earthen jug. The walls sparkled with frost, and the floor was slippery with ice, except immediately around his little fire. Thus he passed through a most miserable winter. He was thin as a skeleton; but still he did not die. As a last resort, the governor of the castle went away and took the keys of the dungeon with him. He was gone three days; and when he returned, Toussaint was lying stiff and cold on his heap of straw. Doctors were called in to examine him, and they certified that he died of apoplexy. This was in April, 1803, after he had been more than eight months in that horrid dungeon, and when he was a little more than sixty years old. The body was buried in the chapel under the castle. It was given out to the world that the deceased prisoner was a revolted slave, who had been guilty of every species of robbery and cruelty; and that he had been thrown into prison for plotting to deliver the island of St. Domingo into the hands of the English. When the family of Toussaint l'Ouverture were informed of his death, they were overwhelmed with grief, though they had no idea of the horrid circumstances connected with it. The two oldest sons tried to escape from France, but were seized and imprisoned. The French government feared the consequences of their returning to St. Domingo. The youngest son soon after died of consumption. Madame Toussaint sank under the weight of her great afflictions. Her health became very feeble, and at times her mind wandered. When the power of Bonaparte was overthrown, and a new government introduced into France, a pension was granted for her support, and her two sons were released from prison. She died in their arms in 1816.