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    The Haitian Trilogy: Plays

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      Look, you, both of you; I will not be pushed, I will not!

      DESSALINES

      He hates excess. I remember.

      CALIXTE-BREDA

      Did you kill my son? Answer me that.

      (Pause.)

      TOUSSAINT

      Take him away, Sergeant.

      SERGEANT

      And …

      DESSALINES

      And shoot him, hang him, anything, you fool!

      We have an army waiting for this ruin.

      SERGEANT

      My general?

      TOUSSAINT

      Shoot him. Monsieur Calixte, it is the times.

      CALIXTE-BREDA

      General, blame man and not the times, not God …

      (Exit SERGEANT with CALIXTE-BREDA.)

      DESSALINES

      Eh, all this argument for a white …

      CHRISTOPHE

      Jacques, in the name of God! Enough!

      (TOUSSAINT is weeping, shoulders shaking. A long pause.)

      Peace will be full of sour memories.

      (The sound of gunfire.)

      DESSALINES

      Eh, qui ça, memories. Life is very long.

      (Pause. TOUSSAINT exits.)

      You see? He is crumbling. We sell him to Leclerc.

      Why do you study me so carefully, my good friend?

      I see that parrot on your shoulder, like a crow.

      CHRISTOPHE

      You are growing sick in your own mind, Jean Jacques.

      Once we have sold him to Leclerc, peace is assured.

      And we will share our power to restore the peace.

      Now, come, it looks suspicious to be here alone.

      (He exits.)

      DESSALINES

      The tent is struck now. Yet if all were known,

      The parrot Jacko screams in Jacques’s black ear,

      Trust men as far as I can throw this stone.

      (He exits, trailing the bottle. Bugle, marching, shouts, drums. Blackout.)

      Scene 13

      Jamaica, 1830. Martial drums change to merry Jamaican mento. A white PLANTER chucks his “housekeeper,” YETTE, out of his great house, throwing her possessions after her.

      PLANTER (Hurling baggage.)

      I don’t want to see any more of you on this estate, unless you learn to keep your thieving hands off my gold and silver!

      YETTE (Picking up baggage.)

      All Jamaica know ’bout you, you good-for-nothing rascal! You and your self-righteousness. I going tell them about you, mister! They should call you Calico, you off-colour planter, you!

      PLANTER

      Now go on down the road and into Kingston, where you belong. Before I set the dogs on you. And here your things! I should never have encouraged you; away, go on.

      YETTE

      One day the sugar market going collapse, and don’t come weeping on my shoulder then. I’m not any ordinary slave, yuh. I got good blood. You can’t ruin Yette. Don’t mind I have coloured blood in me, at least I respectable. My father never come here as no convict.

      PLANTER

      You better get out.

      (He exits. YETTE gathers up her bundles, grumbling.)

      WOMAN (Passing. The first of several who have entered for the next scene.)

      Wey wrong, mi love?

      YETTE

      You jes’ clear out of me way, hear?

      (She exits.)

      Scene 14

      Jamaica, 1833. Secret meeting of a Christian mission. Two slaves, ELIJAH and AARON, hold up a banner marked: TO DWELL TOGETHER IN UNITY: SOCIETY FOR THE PROPAGATION OF THE GOSPEL IN JAMAICA AND THE INDIES. SLAVES gathering. DEACON SALE enters.

      ELIJAH

      The coast is clear, brothers and sisters.

      Come, Brother Aaron, give me a hand with this banner.

      The meeting go start just now.

      AARON (Helping with the banner.)

      You ain’t hear ’bout Brother Pompey, Brother Elijah?

      De soldiers chasing him for scattering pamphlets

      ’Bout emancipation and riots, but don’t let Deacon know.

      ELIJAH

      You mean Pompey the shoemaker? Ain’t he was a pacific man?

      AARON

      Well, him rougher than Atlantic now. Pass out the hymn books?

      ELIJAH

      What’s the damn use passing hymn books

      And oonoo cyant read?

      AARON

      Why you don’ hush you’ mouth?

      ALL

      Good evening, Deacon.

      DEACON SALE

      Any sight or sound of Brother Pompey, Brother Aaron?

      He has never been absent from a secret meeting before.

      AARON (Exultantly)

      Him spreading righteousness right and left, Deacon.

      Like white doves on this countryside, him scattering pamphlets.

      ELIJAH

      We best hurry the meeting, Deacon. Aaron, hush!

      You know is against the law. I going watch for soldiers.

      DEACON SALE

      Thank you, Brother Elijah.

      (He climbs up the steps.)

      Brothers and sisters assembled in Christ, I will read you the text of this banner. Repeat it after me, and try and remember it, as if it were embroidered forever on your hearts. To dwell …

      SLAVES (Together)

      To dwell …

      ELIJAH

      You talking too loud, Deacon, this place crawling with militia.

      DEACON SALE

      Thanks, vigilant Brother Elijah. Together …

      SLAVES (Together)

      Together …

      DEACON SALE

      … in unity …

      SLAVES (Together)

      To dwell together in unity …

      DEACON SALE

      Moses is anointing the head of his brother Aaron in this text. How sweet and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity, it is like the precious ointment upon the head that ran down upon the beard, even Aaron’s beard, that went down to the skirts of his garments. Oh, my poor, naked, abused brothers in Christ, today there are many in England who pray and work for your emancipation. What was that moaning in the night, Brother Elijah?

      ELIJAH

      Nothing, Deacon. The canes in the wind.

      DEACON SALE

      As a woman in her labour, brethren, so does a nation conceive. Through blood and agony, freedom is born. This suffering which we pass through in Jamaica now is the tossing of a country that shall bring forth a new world. There are midwives to this labour, preachers and patriots who know that love and not revenge is the meaning of mankind.

      AARON

      Deacon, how you could love somebody that whipping you?

      DEACON SALE

      The man who whips you cuts his own flesh, Aaron. For you are a piece of that man. Do not hate him. Twenty years ago, in Haiti, the slaves turned on their masters and butchered them. When the great generals of the Haitian revolution came to power, their cause was corrupted by greed. Even that great general Toussaint caught the contagion of hate. But those that followed him, Dessalines, Christophe, from free slaves turned to insane emperors. Toussaint died in a cold tower in France, his dream ruined. Betrayed by his own generals, sold to his enemies. Do not hate, Aaron, however hard it seems. Revenge is easier than love. That is why we tell you to pray continually, for God delivers us from evil and from hatred in the end. And now, in honour of our absent brother Pompey, who is secretly spreading the gospel of peace over Jamaica, up in the mountains, in secret gullies, let us sing the hymn “There Were Ninety and Nine,” starting at the last verse but one …

      (He sings.)

      Lord, whence are those blood drops all the way

      That mark out the mountain track.

      SLAVES (Singing softly.)

      Lord, whence are those blood drops all the way

      That mark out the mountain track.

      They were shed for one who had gone astray.

      DEACON SALE

      Pray for Brother Pompey, scattering pamphlets of peace …


      SLAVES (Singing.)

      Ere the shepherd could bring him back.

      (Shots in the distance.)

      Lord, whence are thine hands so rent and torn,

      They were pierced tonight with many a thorn,

      They were pierced tonight with many a thorn …

      (POMPEY sneaks in quickly.)

      But all through the mountains, thunder riven,

      And up through the rocky steep …

      (POMPEY hides among the crowd.)

      There arose a cry from …

      (Enter SERGEANT, SOLDIERS.)

      SERGEANT

      Quiet! All right, all right, here we are again, Deacon. Now don’t mind me, Deacon, I’d just like this little illegal meeting to stand still and be normal. It’s a tune I always like meself, but don’t any one of you protestants move. We’re looking for a little fellow, name of Pompey, who’s been preaching riot round the compounds. Now, where was we, Deacon? The last verse, I believe … (Sings). But all through the mountains. Go on from there … And keep the muskets cocked, men … Sing!

      SLAVES (Feebly)

      But all through the mountains, thunder riven,

      And up through the rocky steep,

      There arose a cry from the gate of heaven,

      (SERGEANT spots POMPEY.)

      SERGEANT

      There’s the black sheep we’re looking for! Hold him!

      SLAVES (Loudly)

      Rejoice, I have found my sheep.

      And the angels echoed around the throne,

      Rejoice for the Lord brings back his own,

      Rejoice for the Lord brings back his own.

      (POMPEY is held, struggles, is clubbed.)

      DEACON SALE

      You’ve killed him, Sergeant, there’s a law against this.

      SERGEANT

      Resisting arrest and inciting violence. Deacon,

      I can’t fight the law, can I? I got a call same as you,

      And mine was protecting the interests of justice.

      Now herd them along, you’re all heading for court.

      I didn’t mean to do him half the damage he invited.

      (All are almost offstage when POMPEY rises.)

      POMPEY

      Ay! you there, Sergeant. Look, Pompey resurrected!

      SERGEANT

      Come on, after him!

      (General confusion: whistles, shots, blackout.)

      Scene 15

      Jamaica. GEORGE WILLIAM GORDON, rehearsing a speech which he reads from.

      (ELIJAH, a servant, enters.)

      ELIJAH

      Mr. Gordon, Mr. Gordon, we’re ready to leave now.

      GORDON

      I’ll be down in a moment.

      Your Excellency, gentlemen of this assembly, fellow Jamaicans,

      In the history of nations, the birth of their spirit,

      There can be no last battle. For the history of man

      Is continual conflict, with himself, with his enemies.

      The potential of a country is the mass of its people.

      That torrent may be poisoned by the discolouring intellect

      Of ambitious conquerors, and the blame is theirs.

      Your Excellency suggests patience, to be satisfied with progress,

      The evolution of our society, the dissolution of prejudice,

      But human truths cannot be concealed in a pact.

      The history of these islands has been tragic from birth,

      Their soils have been scoured, their peoples forgotten,

      While the powers of Europe struggled for possession.

      And when that wealth has been drained, we have been abandoned.

      ELIJAH

      Your horse is ready, Mr. Gordon.

      GORDON

      I am coming down. Gentlemen,

      I am not satisfied with the form of the constitution.

      This may flout the government, result in rebellion.

      But I am prepared for this also, we must not be satisfied.

      I risk my life for this; if we ask for these liberties.

      We are seeking what is natural.

      ELIJAH

      Mr. Gordon, you going be late, suh.

      Dem have plenty people gathering round the courthouse.

      And is a long ride to Kingston. You best come now.

      GORDON

      If one last battle, which remains to be fought,

      Means the absolute freedom of those who have suffered

      With patience, faith, and humour, I shall incite that battle.

      I am compelled, at the risk of hanging for that truth,

      To tell this country, and these islands, the meaning of liberty:

      That it must be fought for, regardless of its price.

      Does it sound good to you, Elijah?

      ELIJAH

      Sound good enough, sir,

      For them to put a rope round your neck.

      Come, sir, Kingston.

      GORDON

      And certain execution.

      (He exits.)

      Scene 16

      On one side of the stage, enter POMPEY. He carries a breadfruit and a dented bugle. On the other side, CALICO enters. Both are grimy.

      POMPEY

      What a blow this sergeant deal me on me crown! I been in flight for six days now, through hill and gully, trying to reach the rebel Maroon camp in the mountains behind God’s back. It must be somewhere ’bout here, though since the rifle butt daze me, I can’t read no map. I like a black, lost sheep, and hungry.

      CALICO

      O Lord, what’s going to happen now? The bottom fell out of the sugar market. I’m ruined, all I have in my pocket is this heirloom of a golden Spanish coin. I’m ruined, that’s the truth. I wish I could find Yette now, but I hear she’s joined the Maroons. Some fellow called Mano, or something. Oh, what’s the use. Mano, Mano, what a name for a general. Why, it could be anybody. I’m ruined.

      POMPEY

      How a man could have a name so anyhow, Mano? Mano whom, Mano what? I best give a blast on the bugle, this bush full of enemies. Oh God, I eh even got breath for that yet.

      CALICO

      I’d better get out of sight, there are wild slaves who make no distinction about a man’s skin.

      POMPEY (Backing towards CALICO.)

      You can’t trust these white fellers, like that sergeant. God, me head!

      CALICO (Backing towards POMPEY.)

      These fellows just take revenge, as if I invented history. I’d best give a shout and hoist up a white flag, if Yette will forgive me. Mano!

      POMPEY

      The best thing is to shout them. Mano! Mano!

      (They turn together, then run off.)

      Oh God, is a white feller.

      CALICO

      Holy God, a mad slave! Oh God, help! Pardon!

      POMPEY

      Man, I ain’t do you nothing. Oh God, beg your pardon!

      (YETTE appears with a musket.)

      YETTE

      Shut up your jaws, both of you. There’s British soldiers crawling through these plains.

      CALICO

      Yette, forgive me. The bottom fell out of the sugar market.

      YETTE

      Move, man!

      CALICO

      All I have left in my name in this coin.

      POMPEY

      Him was trying to kill me, I is a pacific man. I want to join General Mano.

      YETTE

      Shut up, I’m taking you to headquarters right away. March ahead, recruits.

      (They exit, marching ahead of her. Blackout.)

      Scene 17

      MANO’s camp and field kitchen, Accompong. GENERAL YU stirs a huge cauldron with a wooden ladle. RAM sits patching a pair of pants. MANO, bare-chested, cleaning a musket.

      MANO

      How this food coming, General Yu?

      YU

      Proceeding carefully, General Mano. I have included various weeds, ingredients to concoct a new savour, fragments of finished meat, flowers, spinach; all is one green swamp.

      MANO (Drinking.)

      What you going
    call it?

      YU

      Calaloo. Be patient, sir. I know an army travel on its stomach. One thing lacking, though, that fruit of Captain Bligh, breadfruit.

      MANO

      Don’t worry about the breadfruit. The Lord will provide.

      RAM

      Oh God, look at this pants, nuh! Where Yette disappear since morning?

      MANO

      Yette have the noon watch.

      RAM

      Mano, this troop going to pieces day after day, like my pants shredding into shreds. I wish to God we had a proper army with a couple cannon. Oh God, I juk me finger with the needle again. All of us is generals, but we need more support. All night I was figuring some tactics that would paralyse them British soldiers, but I can’t think too calm with the wind ventilating my trousers and this kind of food that the general inventing. Now look, Napoleon himself said that …

      YU

      Better to observe the discretion of Buddha. Buddha observed that one may conquer a thousand thousand men in battle but he who conquer himself, he is the greatest victor. Please pass the rum, General.

      (RAM passes the rum.)

      MANO

      Wait, like I hear a bugle.

      RAM

      Is only your belly crying. You only getting nervous. Is the bad food we eating, General. Now, how we going make rum? We best go back to slavery. At least you could drink. Napoleon used to drink good before war.

      MANO

      Napoleon said that God was on the side of the big battalions, but look where he finish. Well, General Emmanuel Mano say this, that God on the side of the right cause. Power consume itself, Ram. Your religion, my religion, and the general’s religion teach us that. An old Jew long time gone teach that to my great-great-grandfather.

      RAM

      But, Chief, that’s the way the world turn, power is the law, and we ain’t nothing without an army and artillery. You think any man have a right to dead in this pants?

      (Shout off: “Mano!”)

      MANO

      Is Yette voice, but don’t trust them soldiers, scatter. Hide the tureen, General.

      RAM

     


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