Port-de-Paix. Maurepas submits to Debelle here and enters the town with the 9th.

Lubin Golart at once resolved to march against Maurepas, his personal enemy, at the head of the cultivators of the commune of Jean-Rabel, all of them Black. He declared that he wished to have the glory of arresting him himself, and the satisfaction of flaying him alive. Maurepas learned of Lubin Golart’s cruel designs from Sub-lieutenant Alain, who had taken refuge with him. The scouts of the 9th also came to report that General Desfourneaux was occupying Le Gros-Morne, that communications with Toussaint were cut, and that Debelle was about to march with a new division against the camp of the Trois Pavillons by the high road from Port-de-Paix. Maurepas saw that he would be attacked in front by Debelle, in the rear by Desfourneaux, and in the flank by Lubin Golart. This last enemy was dreaded by the Indigenous general more than all the others. Lubin Golart, a Creole of the district of Port-de-Paix, who knew the winding paths and the deepest gorges of the mountain, would have found Maurepas in any retreat whatever. Surrounded on every side by the enemy, Toussaint’s partisans resolved to submit. On 7 Ventôse (26 February) Maurepas sent one of his aides-de-camp to Debelle at Port-de-Paix, and Debelle eagerly accepted the submission of the Indigenous general. The Frenchman proposed an interview to him that very day at the gate of the town. Maurepas, accompanied by the colonel of the 9th, Bodin, a man of color, by the chef de bataillon René Vincent, a Black man, and by some other officers, went to the meeting place. Debelle soon arrived there, mounted on a fine horse that pranced proudly. He dismounted and asked where General Maurepas was. Maurepas presented himself before him not as a vanquished man, but as a victor whom unhappy circumstances compelled to submit. You will enter the town at once with all your troops, Debelle told him. General, answered Maurepas, my soldiers are scattered in the mountains; I cannot gather them at a moment’s notice; grant me twenty-four hours. Debelle pretended not to have understood him. What is the strength of your troops? Debelle asked him. Eight hundred men of the 9th, as many of the national guard, and 4,000 irregular cultivators, most of them without arms. That is impossible, cried Debelle; so few troops could not have withstood French valor. He grew agitated; a flush covered his brow. I repeat the order to enter the town at once. Maurepas flatly refused to obey him. I am your superior, Debelle retorted. Maurepas still resisted, with calm and dignity. Debelle, overcome by the tenacity of the Indigenous general, granted him the twenty-four hours he had asked. European perfidy had bred distrust in the soul of Maurepas, who feared falling defenseless under the blows of the French. The next day (27 February) he dismissed his 4,000 cultivators and the national guard, and came down from the mountain at the head of the 9th, drums beating and colors flying. He saw 3,000 white troops drawn up in line of battle on the savanna that stretches before the entrance of Port-de-Paix. He entered the town at the head of his soldiers, who waved their tricolor flags and sang the Marseillaise. Debelle ordered him to form his line of battle along the shore, facing several frigates whose gunports were open. The Indigenous believed their last hour had come; and already the determination to die heroically to the last man showed on their faces, when Debelle ordered the ration to be issued to them.