Stone That the Builder Refused - Madison Smartt Bell [65]
The black general was just emerging from the cabinet when they reached the anteroom, paper and a stand with a pair of inkwells and two pens in his hands. He sat down with his back to the cabinet door, and for a moment covered his eyes with his large hands. In that posture he seemed exhausted, past the point of collapse. But when he had lowered his hands from his face, he looked solidly composed.
“Gentlemen,” he said, with a nod toward the writing instruments he had brought out. “I shall want two copies of this letter.”
Obediently the doctor and Pascal each reached for pen and paper. Christophe spread his fingers and pressed lightly down on them, looking over their heads at the ceiling as he began to speak.
From the headquarters of Le Cap, 13 Pluviôse, Year Ten. Henri Christophe, brigadier general commanding the arrondissement of Le Cap, to General in Chief Leclerc.
Your aide-de-camp, General, has delivered to me your letter of this day. I have the honor to let you know that I cannot deliver to you the forts and other places confided to my command until beforehandI have received the orders of the Governor Toussaint Louverture,my immediate superior, from whom I hold the powers vested in me.
The doctor noticed, as his pen scratched, that Christophe’s voice was loud enough to be quite audible through the cracked door of the cabinet behind him . . . but surely he had seen that small space to be empty, not more than an hour ago. And now there was nothing for him to do but concentrate on Christophe’s words, though every one of them made his heart sink lower.
I would very much like to believe that I am dealing with the French, and that you are the chief of the army called “expeditionary,” but I am waiting for the orders of the Governor, to whom I have dispatched one of my aides-de-camp, to announce to him your arrival and that of the French army; and until his response has reached me, I cannot permityou to debark . . .”
On the deck of the flagship L’Océan, Captain-General Leclerc paused in his reading and looked out across the coast. He had walked down from the bow of the vessel for the sake of privacy, though Lebrun and the admiral Villaret-Joyeuse had followed him and stood at a little distance, watching. Leclerc inhaled the many-layered scent of the nearby land. At sunrise they’d sailed closer into shore, and now the fleet stood west of Fort Picolet, well out of the range of cannon. Though certainly he could reduce that place in an hour, if it came to that. The town itself was hidden, behind the point where the fort was placed, sunk in the deepest pocket of the bay.
A gull swooped at the letter, mistaking it for bread. Leclerc tucked the paper to his belly and turned to give the striking bird his shoulder. The gull spiraled up and away from him, shrieking, losing itself among the several others gliding around the masts of the ship like chaff in the updraft of some bonfire. Had his movement seemed a flinch? Leclerc stole a glance at Lebrun and Villaret-Joyeuse, to see if they’d been amused at his expense, but they had turned their faces to the coast. He knew that there were some who mocked him, and because of his small stature called him the blond Napoleon; they accused him of aping his brother-in-law.
Leclerc looked up toward the bridge, where Pauline, his lady wife, was holding court. The captain’s chair enthroned her. She had got herself up in an exotic motley of kerchiefs, scarves, and bandannas—her fantasy of what a grand Creole dame would wear. The junior naval and military officers were fawning all over her, as usual, as if she were already Queen of Saint Domingue, as she soon expected, in effect, to be. It was this whole extravaganza that had sent Captain-General Leclerc down from the bridge to the spot where he now stood.
Since his marriage to the First Consul’s sister, Leclerc had had more than one occasion to reflect that perhaps husband, at the end of the day, was not the most enviable relation to enjoy to the most recklessly beautiful woman in Europe. Never had he felt