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    The Haitian Trilogy: Plays

    Page 7
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      We wait, with accident our mercy, and truth is pain;

      And pain, like joy, is sensual; so to feel happy, Vastey,

      Is nothing; it is to chew half

      Of our globe and spit truth out in morsels,

      Those bitter truths that choke the craw of hopes.

      I have no regret, and happiness?

      Well, end the sermon.

      The drums have stopped.

      They are here.

      The light, strengthen the light,

      I will not die in the dark.

      VASTEY

      It is almost morning.

      Tomorrow has no comfort; we must wage war against the dark

      In all of us, and make our chaos light.

      Regret, King, time …

      (CHRISTOPHE laughs loudly, VASTEY signals quiet.)

      CHRISTOPHE

      Regret, and your knees knocking?

      (His laughter dies.)

      That silence. Why have they stopped? They are here.

      I can hear them, Vastey.

      (His gun is drawn.)

      VASTEY (Tense, whispering)

      But you cannot tell where—

      CHRISTOPHE (Bewildered and angry)

      Yes, yes, I can tell …

      VASTEY

      How near are they?

      (A resounding crash, like glass, then silence.)

      What was that now?

      CHRISTOPHE

      The Hall of Mirrors.

      If I could move …

      (He forces himself half upright facing the direction of the noise. VASTEY, behind him, retreats slowly, until he is out of sight. CHRISTOPHE, unaware that he is alone, is speaking half to himself.)

      Do not regret, Vastey.

      But why do they stop playing? You say it will soon be morning …

      Why do they stop? Vastey?

      (He turns around.)

      Vastey …

      (He sinks in the chair, beaten, but alert, muttering, watching the skull and the incense in the foreground.)

      I am not without pity, but pity comes tardily, and fits

      Raggedly around my crimes. Besides, I think,

      In honesty, I am rather sorrier

      For myself than all those things I did.

      I cannot ripen compunction by rosaries

      Or pray to Damballa, or broken gods.

      (A scream. VASTEY is taken. CHRISTOPHE hardly listens.)

      History, breaking the stalk she grew herself,

      Kills us like flies, wings torn, held up to light,

      Burning biographies like rubbish.

      (He addresses the skull.)

      Skull, when your smile wore flesh around its teeth,

      Time like a pulse was knocking in the eyelid,

      The worm was mining in the bone for metal.

      What shall I leave?

      I am alone … this anonymous skull?

      What shall I?… A half-charred name?

      No. A king’s memory, or oblivion.

      (The drums rise, and he struggles to his feet, shouting to be heard.)

      Tell Pétion I leave him this dark monarchy,

      The graves of children, and years of silence …

      (His voice breaks with laughter and despair.)

      And after that …

      Oblivion and silence.

      (The drums reach their pitch, and when they stop suddenly, he shudders at the silence and puts the pistol slowly to his head as … the curtain falls.)

      DRUMS AND COLOURS

      Drums and Colours was produced in the Botanical Gardens, Port of Spain, Trinidad, on April 25, 1958. It was commissioned to mark the opening of the first West Indies Federation. The play was directed by Noel Vaz and Dagmar Butt. Costumes were designed by Motley. Lighting by John Robertson.

      The cast was as follows:

      CHORUS—Leonard St. Hill

      EMMANUEL MANO—Errol Jones

      POMPEY—James King

      YETTE—Jean Herbert

      RAM—Freddie Kissoon

      GENERAL YU—Mills Olivier

      LAS CASAS—Reginald Carter

      BOBADILLA—Errol Protain

      QUADRADO—Michael Wickers

      CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS—Hugh Butt

      FERNANDO—Robert Head

      BARTOLOME—Peter Pitts

      GARCÍA—Conrad Gonzalez

      YOUNG PACO—Charles Blakeman

      BROKER—Vernon Gomez

      BROKER’S NEPHEW—George Prichett

      PACO—Easton Lee

      JEW—Peter Ireson

      MERCHANT—Henri Perrin

      SPANISH WOMEN—Yolande Achong, Pat Cansfield, Gene Miles, Mavis Roodal

      FIRST SPANISH SAILOR—Abraham Chami

      SECOND SPANISH SAILOR—Asaad Sabeeney

      MALE SLAVE—William Webb

      FEMALE SLAVE—Eunice Bruno

      AFRICAN KING—Horace Burgess

      PACO AS AN OLD MAN—Ronald Williams

      YOUNG RALEIGH—Peter Donnegan

      HUMPHREY GILBERT—Arthur Webb

      SIR WALTER RALEIGH—Anthony Selman

      LAURENCE KEYMIS—William Stevenson

      DE BERRIO—Sydney Hill

      RALEIGH’S SON—Peter Minshall

      ENGLISH SAILORS—Robert Head, George Prichett

      BARBADIAN WINE STEWARD—Horace James

      PRIEST—Errol Protain

      EXECUTIONER—Joe Hatem

      GENERAL LECLERC—Tom Burley

      PAULINE LECLERC—Rhona Angel

      GENERAL DE ROUVRAY—Pip Angel

      MADAME DE ROUVRAY—Nancy Richards

      ARMAND CALIXTE-BREDA—Ronald Llanos

      ANTON CALIXTE—Desmond Rostant

      TOUSSAINT L’OVERTURE—Neville Hall

      LIEUTENANT FOUJADE—Peter Ireson

      BOUKMANN—Jeff Henry

      DESSALINES—Errol Hill

      CHRISTOPHE—Lloyd Stanford

      HAITIAN SOLDIER—Geoffrey Biddeau

      DEACON SALE—A. L. Jolly

      AARON—Winston Gay

      ELIJAH—Bertrand Henry

      BRITISH SERGEANT—Victor Hogg

      GEORGE WILLIAM GORDON—Errol Protain

      CAPTAIN—James Draper

      CALICO—Peter Pitts

      Author’s Note

      In one or two instances, for purposes of thematic cohesion, I have rearranged dates and incidents, but the general pattern of discovery, conquest, exploitation, rebellion, and constitutional advancement has been followed. The play, fully performed, runs well over three hours; however, the scenes are so arranged that interested producers can excise shorter, self-contained plays from the main work, for example, the story of Paco, the El Dorado theme in the Raleigh scenes, the betrayal of Toussaint, the relationship with M. Calixte-Breda (in which the young Anton becomes the central figure), and the escapades of Pompey. I have made a few alterations and several cuts from the acting script.

      D.W.

      Trinidad, 1960

      CAST OF PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS

      CHORUS, a Carnival figure

      EMMANUEL MANO, a masquerader, leader of a Carnival band

      POMPEY, a masquerader in Mano’s band

      YETTE, a masquerader in Mano’s band

      RAM, a masquerader in Mano’s band

      GENERAL YU, a masquerader in Mano’s band

      LAS CASAS, a Spanish cleric

      BOBADILLA, governor of Santo Domingo

      QUADRADO, a conquistador

      CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS

      FERNANDO, a Spanish sailor

      BARTOLOME, a Spanish sailor

      GARCÍA, a Spanish sailor

      YOUNG PACO, an Indian boy

      PACO, an Indian

      A JEW, emigrant to the New World

      A SLAVE

      A FEMALE SLAVE

      YOUNG RALEIGH

      YOUNG GILBERT

      SIR WALTER RALEIGH, English adventurer

      SIR HUMPHREY GILBERT, English adventurer

      LAURENCE KEYMIS, officer of Raleigh’s expedition

      DE BERRIO, Spanish governor of Trinidad

      WINE STEWARD, a Ba
    rbadian house slave

      GENERAL LECLERC, French commander in Haiti

      PAULINE LECLERC, his wife

      GENERAL DE ROUVRAY, a French general

      CALIXTE-BREDA, a plantation owner

      ANTON CALIXTE, his illegitimate son

      TOUSSAINT L’OUVERTURE, Calixte-Breda’s coachman, then liberator of Haiti

      BOUKMANN, a slave

      HENRI CHRISTOPHE, a Haitian general

      JEAN JACQUES DESSALINES, a Haitian general

      DEACON SALE, a Jamaican cleric

      GEORGE WILLIAM GORDON, a Jamaican

      Also, SPANISH WOMEN, SLAVES, SAILORS, SOLDIERS

      PROLOGUE

      The stage is set with a centrepiece of regimental and African drums, with the flags of Britain, France, Spain, and Holland. In the background, a central balcony with steps leading up to it from either side of the stage. A distant bugle and drum roll, then faint sounds of carnival music. The lights come up.

      Enter YETTE, RAM, YU, POMPEY, running, led by MANO.

      They rummage among set properties and dress.

      MANO

      Ram, Pompey, Yette, Yu, like I hear them coming.

      I got a plan, boys, we going change round the carnival.

      They bound to pass this alley, like I hear them approaching.

      Position yourself, we going ambush this road march!

      (Enter CARNIVAL MASKERS: dancing.)

      MANO

      Arawaks, Ashanti, Conquistadors!

      Give them the bugle, Pomps!

      We changing the march now to “War and Rebellion”!

      (POMPEY blows bugle: quiet. The CROWD objects. Shouts.)

      VOICE

      Ain’t that Pompey the shoemaker?

      POMPEY

      Is Pompey the warrior starting from today,

      And I want all you listen to what I go’ say.

      (Climbing on a barrel.)

      This confusion going change to a serious play!

      (Shouts, etc.)

      YETTE

      If anyone contradict what General Pompey said,

      A bullet from this musket, Pomps, go ahead.

      POMPEY (Singing.)

      Now you men of every creed and class,

      We know you is brothers when you playing Mass,

      White dance with black, black with Indian,

      But long time, it was Rebellion.

      No matter what you colour now is steel and drums,

      We jumping together with open arms,

      But if you listen now, you going see

      The painful birth of democracy.

      For in them days it was …

      CROWD (Singing and dancing.)

      Bend the angle on them is to blow them down, is to blow them down.

      Bend the angle on them is to blow them down, is to blow them down,

      When the bayonet charge is the rod of correction,

      Shout it everyone: when the bayonet charge

      Is the rod of correction, till rebellion!

      MANO

      All you get the idea, so le’ we get organise now.

      Now, some Spanish soldiers in a phalanx on the right,

      So hoist up them halberds in a mass of steel spikes.

      We picking three, four heroes, all in history, look a test

      Disguise as Columbus, in the front pardner. Yes, I see

      Walter Raleigh, up this side friend …

      (COLUMBUS and RALEIGH leave the crowd.)

      POMPEY

      Where this man Mano acquire such knowledge?

      MANO

      No Horatio Nelson? He ain’t in Mass this year? Well, we going take what we get. Toussaint L’Ouverture and his Haitian rebellion. In front, brother. No Morgan? No Rodney? Ah, I see George William Gordon. Now I want a test who could spout the Queen English.

      (GORDON and TOUSSAINT join COLUMBUS and RALEIGH.)

      Come up here, pardner. Yes, you.

      (A tall WARRIOR appears from crowd.)

      Now I want two masks, tragedy and comedy.

      (Two MASKERS hand over masks to the warrior, which he fixes to a staff.)

      As the figure of time and the sea, I giving you these two masks, and speak the best you could, poetry and all. And everybody going act, every blest soul going act the history of this nation. And now, friends and actors, as the sun been on his road march all day cooling his crack sole in the basin of the sea, we starting from sunset, through night to the dawn of this nation. Clear the stage. Darkness, music, and quiet. Right!

      (All go off. Drum roll and bugle.)

      CHORUS

      Before our actors praise his triumph, Time

      Shows his twin faces, farce and tragedy;

      Before they march with drums and colours by

      He sends me, his mace bearer, Memory.

      To show the lives of four litigious men,

      The rise and ebb of cause and circumstance.

      For your delight, I raise them up again,

      Not for your judgement, but remembrance.

      And now that I revolve his tragic eyes

      Upon this stage, I’ll show you his device.

      This barren height towards which the steps ascend

      Is that fixed point round which some issue wheeled.

      There our four heroes meet their common end,

      There in harsh light, each age must be revealed.

      (Steps down.)

      Below them, on this level of the stage,

      The spokes of normal action turn their course,

      (Enter SPANISH SAILORS.)

      Just as these sailors, fished from a drowned age,

      Were simple men, obscure, anonymous.

      And where the stage achieves its widest arc

      The violence of large action shall take place,

      Each sphere within the other leaves its mark,

      As one man’s dying represents the race.

      So turn with me, far as your thought will reach,

      By this drum’s pulse, through the dissolving foam.

      (Enter to drumbeats, PRIESTS and a choir of AMERINDIAN ACOLYTES.)

      Time, 1499. A crowded beach.

      Columbus leaves on his third voyage home,

      Behind him, Governor Bobadilla, whom Isabella, Queen

      Of this Castilian colony, has decreed

      To charge the old admiral with mismanagement.

      By his heart’s side, Las Casas, the grey friar.

      Santo Domingo, while the sun’s lamp descends,

      Our actions start, the conqueror cracks the whip

      A desolate conch sounds from the waiting ship

      These ghosts Time raised are given back their speech.

      (Exit.)

      Scene 1

      Santo Domingo. 1499. COLUMBUS sent home in disgrace. COLUMBUS; FRANCISCO DE BOBADILLA, governor; LAS CASAS, bishop of the Indies; INDIANS, SAILORS, SOLDIERS, QUADRADO, officer of the watch.

      LAS CASAS

      This is the ship that takes you back to Spain.

      Our bodies are ribbed vessels, Admiral,

      And being fitted thus, shipwreck is certain

      Unless Christ is our pilot.

      BOBADILLA

      As governor of the province of Santo Domingo,

      I accept in the names of our two sovereigns

      The resignation of your recent office.

      Your Excellency, despite the jurisdiction of our princes,

      Saw fit to contradict their majesties’ edicts

      Against these Indians who are their native subjects,

      Against these add, this province’s indiscipline,

      The mounting, step by step, to your great arrogance

      And the mishandling of this Christian conquest.

      For this, and all the rest, as public remonstrance,

      I have seen it fit to send you home in irons.

      I wish you a safe conduct to Cádiz. The chains.

      (SOLDIERS chain COLUMBUS.)

      LAS CASAS

      Kneel, for the blessing of the perpetual Church.

      Keep in your days that memorable seal


      Of christopher, who bore Christ to the west,

      And let this hand that fights for the Indians’ cause

      Rest heaven’s blessing on your foam-white hair.

      Jesus et Maria sit nobis in via. God go with you.

      (Exit with ACOLYTES.)

      QUADRADO

      Vamos, marineros. Set the ropes free.

      Vamos, vamos, the sun is losing light.

      (SAILORS hauling. A sail unfurls.)

      SAILORS

      O Dio! Ayuta noy! O que some! Servi soy!

      O voleamo! Ben servir O la fede! Mantenir!

      (Drumbeat; exit BOBADILLA, SOLDIERS, CROWD.)

      (On deck.)

      QUADRADO

      Excellency, my captain says the chains need not be used.

      COLUMBUS

      I’ll wear these irons till we fold sail in Spain.

      Now lead me to my quarters, my good officer.

      QUADRADO (To SOLDIER)

      You, take the admiral to the captain’s quarters.

      (COLUMBUS climbs steps. Exit; a rope ladder let down from above. Two sailors, FERNANDO and BARTOLOME, enter.)

      FERNANDO

      A gentle dusk to thee, Quadrado.

      BARTOLOME

      You took us out of the port most commendably.

      Wilt thou have a biscuit, it appears wholesome,

      But worms are mining in it, it should suit

      Thy opinion of the times.

      FERNANDO (Laughing.)

      He’s a poor scholar, Lieutenant,

      This world is like an orange, not a biscuit.

      QUADRADO

      I have forbidden the use of wine till it is issued,

      That is well known to you. Give me the wineskin.

      GARCÍA

      I paid for it.

      (Hands it over.)

      QUADRADO

      Some get so drunk they have a sense of justice.

      (Throws away wineskin.)

      When is your watch, Bartolome?

      BARTOLOME

      With these two Christians. The cemetery patrol.

      QUADRADO

      See you observe it. Come set the shrouds.

      GARCÍA

      I hate the bloody authority of that officer.

      There’s not half a skinful of a man’s blood in him.

      Didn’t he use to drink with us before?

      FERNANDO

      Come set the shroud, you’re a sailor, a drunk one.

      He’s changed fidelities, but hasn’t lost his temper.

      BARTOLOME

      The penitential officer, he troubles me.

      Tonight you’ll hear him pace the deck alone.

     


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