In 1697 France, by treaty, acquired the western part of the island, the eastern portion remaining in the possession of Spain, which had held it ever since its discovery by Columbus. The French found their Haitian lands very profitable in cotton and sugar, and the western region prospered, while the Spanish community was stagnant. At the outbreak of the French Revolution (1789) the whole island was thrown into a ferment, out of which came the changes that Elliott relates. At that time the French portion of Haiti had about half a million inhabitants, of whom some forty thousand were of European blood, thirty thousand free negroes, the rest negro slaves. The free colored people, mostly mulattoes, had no voice in the Government, but in 1790 the French National Assembly decreed to those born of free parents full citizenship. Opposition on the part of the whites caused delay in carrying out the decree. Taking advantage of the ensuing commotion, the slaves rose in revolt (August, 1791), and the conditions which Toussaint at length was called upon to meet were inevitably brought about. This black hero, of whose origin and personality information is given below, has been made the subject of a noble sonnet by Wordsworth, of an equally fine eulogy by Wendell Phillips, of a tragedy by Lamartine, and of a romance, _The Hour and the Man_, by Harriet Martineau. Auguste Comte, the founder of positivism, placed Toussaint in his new calendar among the great modern liberators--Hampden, Cromwell, Algernon Sidney, Washington, and Bolivar. On August 25, 1791, was the feast of St. Louis. For the week preceding, the planters gathered at Cap François[35] to concert measures against the mulattoes; against the National Assembly; and--to dine. The great men, and the rich, and the brave, were there. It was not a time to drive the slaves; and during that week they "danced" more than before. On the evening of August 23d, the best dishes of the cook Henri, a born prince, whose future no one could suspect, tempted the palates of the born whites. In brave counsels, in denunciations of the mulattoes, in songs for Governor Blanchelande and "Liberty," the time passed, the wine flowed, and hearts swelled. So the shadows of the night stole on. Light! More light! was called for; they threw open the jalousies; curious black faces swarmed about the piazzas--but what meant that dull glare which reached the sultry sky? The party was broken up: they rushed to the windows; they could smell the heavy smoke, they could hear the distant tramp of feet. The band, unbidden, struck up the _Marsellaise_; it was caught up in the streets; and from mouth to mouth, toward the rich Plain du Nord, passed along the song: "_Le jour de gloire est arrivé!_ _Aux armes! aux armes! pour Liberté!_"