Fort Bizoton. A league from the town; its battalion of the 13th went over to the French.

The calm that reigned in the bay of La Gonâve held back the squadron carrying Boudet’s division. The ships seemed to sleep upon the sea; their flags, stirred by not a breath of air, hung motionless. Latouche-Tréville and Boudet, impatient and overwhelmed by the rays of a burning sun, deliberated on the point they would choose for the landing. Latouche-Tréville casts his eyes over his chart; then he turns his spyglass toward the east; but he makes out only a white point at the foot of a high morne. He took this point now for the town, now for a rock. The breeze came to end his uncertainty: the surface of the water gently swelled; the vessels rocked, and the flags, streaming proudly, called the crews to their duties; the sails were spread, and soon there rose before the gratified eyes of the French the magnificent slopes of Marquissant and the varied and picturesque buildings of Port-Républicain. This town, built at the head of the bay of La Gonâve, stands in an admirable position. The shores of the southern peninsula and those of the province of the West form an immense basin whose peaceful waters were at that time ceaselessly furrowed by light craft which, putting out from the coves of the coast, came laden with coffee, provisions, vegetables and fruit to land at Port-Républicain. Almost girdled by high mountains that shelter it from hurricanes, this bay offers ships a safe anchorage. Two roadsteads form the port: the small roadstead, or port properly so called, near the shore, is separated from the large one, which stretches toward the open sea, by a line of coral rocks whose tops, level with the water, are forever crowned with foam. This line of rocks runs from south to north, and there is only one very narrow passage by which merchant vessels enter the small roadstead from the large one, where the warships anchor. Fort Ilet, a weak work in the midst of the islets that separate the two roadsteads, defends the passage and serves to police the inner roadstead. The heat of the town would be unbearable if the west wind did not come each day, from noon to seven in the evening, to temper that burning air with its coolness. The fortifications were then, as they are today, of little importance. Near the North Gate stood Fort Saint-Joseph; to the east, Fort National rose on the summit of a hill commanding the town and the bay; to the south was Fort Léogane, at the gate of that name; the Monbrun battery on the shore stood at the center of the town, and Fort Sainte-Claire, whose batteries at sea level protected the arsenal on the side of the roadstead. Finally, a lieue from the town, on the road to Léogane, stood Fort Bizoton, whose guns commanded the whole roadstead. The town was girdled by a wide, deep ditch, along which a few fortifications rose at intervals.

As soon as the sails of Admiral Latouche-Tréville’s squadron had been sighted, most of the inhabitants of Port-Républicain, whose number rose above 30,000 souls, had shown themselves disposed to receive the new government; and this disposition was fostered by General Agé, a European, commandant of the arrondissement, and by chef de brigade Dalban, commandant of the town, also a European. Father Lecun, prefect apostolic and parish priest of the town, exhorted all the women and the devout of the confraternities to welcome the French as brothers and to support them in word and deed. The director of the arsenal, Lacombe, a white man, was likewise wholly devoted to the French; and a large part of the Black and mixed-race people, giving no credit to the words of Toussaint’s partisans, who told them that Leclerc was coming to restore slavery, were preparing to give the white army a brilliant reception. Joy shone on the faces of the colonists, who awaited the European troops as an army of liberation: the supreme command of a Black man in the colony humiliated their pride. The garrison of the town consisted of the 3rd and 13th colonial demi-brigades, a squadron of the guard of honor commanded by Monpoint, and a battalion of the same guard under the orders of Magny. Lamartinière, a battalion commander in the 3rd colonial and a man of color, had made himself the first authority of the town. He rejected General Agé’s orders and directed all the military movements himself.

The French squadron had reached Le Lamentin on the evening of the third of February. Groups of citizens at once formed in every street. On all sides people declared themselves convinced that the French were coming not to restore slavery but to overthrow the despotism of Toussaint Louverture. The citizens were already talking of organizing a guard of honor, of going out to meet the European troops and fraternizing with them. But one man alone, by his energy, forced the inhabitants to give up their plan: this was Lamartinière, known for his intrepidity and the violence of his character. He went through the streets exhorting the citizens to arm for the defense of the town; the French are coming to restore slavery, he said; but his voice found no echo. All the inhabitants believed in the magnanimity of France: most of them had suffered cruelly under Toussaint’s government.

Meanwhile an aide-de-camp of General Boudet, chef de brigade Sabès, accompanied by a naval officer, citizen Gimont, came ashore into the town bearing the First Consul’s proclamation and several dispatches for the commandant of the arrondissement. General Agé received him with distinction; he wished to send him back; but Lamartinière opposed it, and Sabès remained as a hostage. The next day, 4 February, at daybreak, Agé answered General Boudet that since General Dessalines, commander of the division of the West, was not at Port-Républicain, he could take no decision concerning the surrender of the town, and that until he received the instructions of Dessalines, to whom he had written on the matter, he would keep Colonel Sabès, who would be in full safety under his protection. The bearer of this letter was charged at the same time to inform General Boudet by word of mouth that Agé’s authority was disregarded by the senior officers of the garrison, Lamartinière, Magny and Monpoint, and that the landing must be hastened. Lamartinière, for his part, sent word to the French: “That if a landing were forced without the orders of Governor-General Toussaint Louverture, three alarm guns would be fired, and that this signal, repeated from morne to hill, would be the signal for the burning of the colony and the slaughter of all the whites.”

Having made vain efforts to bring the citizens to take up arms, Lamartinière went to the arsenal. He was boiling with fury; had he not met with opposition from Magny and Monpoint, he would have burned Port-Républicain, which he called a cowardly and corrupt town, ready to receive new chains. He went in alone to Lacombe and said to him: “Citizen, the authority of Governor Toussaint Louverture is the only one recognized by the officials of the colony, and whoever disregards it is guilty before the Constitution. Therefore, citizen, I ask you for munitions and arms to fight the French, who are coming to plunge us back into slavery.” Lacombe flatly refused to grant his request, declaring that he had received no order to do so from General Agé, his immediate superior, and that in any case Leclerc had not been sent by the First Consul to change the order of things already established, but rather to put the finishing touch to the tranquillity and happiness of the colony. Lamartinière brandished his saber in one hand and his pistol in the other: “Since that is how it is, die, wretched colonist,” he cried in a thundering voice; and Lacombe fell, struck by a ball in the head. This act of cruel energy spread terror through the arsenal; all the munitions were at once handed over to him. The colonists who had formed the plan of arresting him were frightened, and most of them hid and awaited the outcome of events. All the citizens had shut their doors; the streets were full of patrols, and every white man they met was arrested and taken to the barracks. Agé ceased entirely to command, and Lamartinière found himself sole master of the town. He sent battalion commanders Bardet and Séraphin, who held Fort Bizoton with the 1st battalion of the 13th, the order to conquer or die; he placed the other two battalions of the 13th and some gunners at the Piémont entrenchment, under the orders of commandant Lubin Hudicourt. The whole body of the 13th, a regiment of the South composed of Rigaud’s former soldiers, had been won over by the inhabitants of the town, to whom the soldiers had promised not to fire on the French. A company of cavalry of the guard of honor under Captain Barthélemy Marchand and a company of the foot guard commanded by Captain Eloy Turbet took up position in the redoubt of the Léogane gate. The rest of the guard of honor occupied Fort National. Strong detachments of the 3rd colonial patrolled the town to hold the inhabitants in check and to fight them should they arm with the aim of attacking Fort Léogane from behind while the French stormed it. The 3rd demi-brigade was drawn up in line of battle on the Place Vallière. The troops Lamartinière had to oppose to Boudet amounted to 2,400 men; they would have sufficed to defend the town, had they been loyal.

The next day, 5 February, at ten in the morning, the French army landed at Le Lamentin. Lamartinière, to his great astonishment, did not hear the guns of Fort Bizoton. At once Fort National fired three alarm guns, and all the whites who had been arrested were led to the Valembrun savanna and to Saint-Martin, where they were pitilessly massacred. Boudet advanced at the head of a division of 6,000 men, whose columns, formed in part of veterans, presented an imposing sight. These valiant warriors shone with all the brilliance of their uniforms. Tall bearskin caps weighed on their menacing brows, great black gaiters covered their trousers, and their arms glittered in the burning rays of the sun. When the division came near Fort Bizoton, Boudet sent in an officer under flag of truce, who declared to Bardet and Séraphin that they must, in the name of France, their fatherland, surrender the fort to him; that they would be kept in their ranks, and that nothing would be changed in the colony. At the same time Boudet said to the grenadier companies drawn up behind him: “Comrades, you will march with arms at the carry beneath the guns of the fort, for you are on French soil; and if rebels dare to fire on you, you will carry the fortification with the bayonet and put its garrison to the sword.” The battalion of the 13th came out of the fort and advanced to meet the French with cries of “Long live our brothers!” The division answered with cries of “Long live liberty! Long live the Republic!” The colonial battalion took its place in the European lines and marched against the town. A French regiment occupied Fort Bizoton. Having arrived opposite the Piémont redoubt, at the bend in the highroad, Boudet halted his column and sent the cavalry colonel d’Henin to the fort of Léogane with the mission of receiving the submission of the troops who held it. Lamartinière appeared in the redoubt and ordered the cavalry of the guard of honor to dismount and fight in the entrenchments. Colonel d’Henin, arriving at the foot of the fort, asked to speak with the man in command there; Lamartinière presented himself. “We have not come to fight you,” d’Henin said to him; “you are French; we are brothers; we come to increase, by mingling with you, the number of the defenders of the fatherland.” He threw his sword far from him and asked to enter the fort alone, among his fellow countrymen. “No! no!” cried the soldiers. Boudet, impatient at so much delay, had d’Henin recalled and said in a loud voice that was heard in the redoubt: “Grenadiers, forward! With the bayonet!” The charge was beaten, and the division, moving off, marched against the fort. At that very moment battalion commander Magny arrived. “Halt, my friends! Halt, my brothers!” he cried, addressing the French. Whether his voice was not heard, drowned by the noise of the drums, or whether Boudet would not listen to him, the French column had already reached the foot of the fort. “Fire! fire!” Magny commanded. Death flew through the French ranks. The guard of honor, crying “Long live liberty! Long live the Republic!”, kept up a heavy and murderous fire. The grenadiers of the 68th fired a terrible volley and rushed at the redoubt; they were stopped, raked with grapeshot and driven back to Piémont, leaving the road covered with dead. The two battalions of the 13th who were at Piémont, instead of charging them from behind, withdrew to the Morne de l’Hôpital, out of musket range. Commandant Lubin Hudicourt, who was at the head of the Piémont battery, seeing himself betrayed, fired a volley of cannon shot on the whites and hurried back into the fort of Léogane.