e was little conflict. Toussaint poured down
his force through the barracks, where the French soldiers gave him a
hearty welcome, and along the avenues of Government-House, and the
neighbouring public offices, in which quarter the mulattoes had little
interest. Within an hour, the mulattoes had all slunk back into their
homes, telling their families that they could have dealt with the French
alone, but that they could not withstand an army of twenty thousand men
(only doubling the real number), which had dropped from the clouds, for
aught they knew. The few dead bodies were removed, the sand sucked up
their blood, and the morning wind blew dust over its traces. A boat was
sent off, in due form, to bring Commissary Polverel home to
Government-House. Toussaint himself went to the prison to bring out
General Laveaux, with every demonstration of respect; and all presently
wore the aspect of a jour-de-fete.

Hour by hour tidings were spread which increased the joy of the French,
and the humiliation of their foes. The intercepted dispatches were
given up, and more arrived with the news of the successive defection
from the allies of all the important posts in the colony, held by negro
forces. In the name of Toussaint Breda, the garrisons of Marmalade and
Plaisance first declared for republican France; and after them, Gros
Morne, Henneri, and Le Dondon.

The news of the acquisition of these last arrived in the evening, when
the French officials were entertaining the negro chief in the salon of
Government-House. It was late: the house was brilliantly lighted; and
its illuminations were reflected from a multitude of faces without.
Late as it was, and great as had been the fatigues of the negro troops,
they were not yet weary of hearing the praises of their own Toussaint.
Adding their numbers to those of the white inhabitants of Cap, they
thronged the court of Government-House and the Jesuits' Walk; and even
in the Place d'Archer and the Rue Espagnole, passengers found it
difficult to make their way. The assemblage could scarcely have told
what detained them there, unless it were the vague expectation of more
news, the repetition of the praises they loved to hear, and, perhaps,
some hope of getting one more glimpse of Toussaint on this night of his
triumph. From mouth to mouth circulated the words which General Laveaux
had spoken in the morning, when released from his prison--"This man is
the saviour of the whites--the