The Haitian Trilogy: Plays: Henri Christophe, Drums and Colours, and The Haytian Earth (17 page)

Who weeps for Jeremy Ford?

(
Enter two
SAILORS
.)

FIRST SAILOR

If you please, sir. Come, mate, give us a hand.

BERRIO

What is the matter now?

SECOND SAILOR

If you please, sir. Captain Keymis has just killed hisself.

FIRST SAILOR

There’s some takes things too hard. Excuse us, Governor.

(
BERRIO
bends his head over the table. The
SAILORS
wait. Slow fade-out. Drum.
)

Interlude

POMPEY
(
Rushing out onstage.
)

Mano! Hey, Mano. Where this man gone now?

I bet you he with them big shot in the five-dollar seat.

MANO
(
Emerging.
)

What happen now, pardner? You ain’t tired harass me?

POMPEY

You know what I wanted to tell you, pardner?

MANO

I don’t want to hear nothing.

POMPEY

Don’t vex nuh, pal. Is this. That last sailor there who carry off the table, the second one.

MANO

You mean the squinge-faced fellow?

POMPEY

Yeah, heself, well—

MANO

Well, what?

POMPEY

You ain’t find he talk like a Bajan?

MANO

Oh God, is that you call a man out here for, and people looking?

POMPEY
(
Sitting on barrel.
)

Looking at this feller, you know, remind me of a old joke once about a Barbadian.

MANO

Look nuh, man, we ain’t have time for that now.

POMPEY

This joke happen way back in about 1618 or so, the year Raleigh dead. Or some time around there. (
MANO
moves away.
) Wait nuh, man, I sure you going enjoy this joke. It have history in it. (
MANO
comes back.
) They had this Bajan feller during the early days of slavery, when some of the British islands was being settled, you know, like St. Kitts, Antigua, St. Lucia, and so on and so on.

MANO

I gone, yes.

POMPEY

Well, this feller, he get a work. This wasn’t no ordinary kind a work, you know. He wasn’t no
Nègre jardin,
no plantation nigger. He was a wine steward on a big estate.

MANO

You ever give a short joke yet?

POMPEY

Well, one night he bounce up wid a drunken sailor.

MANO
(
Moving away.
)

Look, nuh, like you planning to sleep here tonight?

POMPEY

All right, all right. But stop! You think I was lying? Look the two of them there! You going see if I was lying.

(
They exit.
)

Scene 7

Night. A wharf—enter a
SAILOR
,
jug in hand—Barbados.

SAILOR

It’s midnight, and I can’t find the way to the ship, and I wouldn’t like to be stuck in the Barbados for nothing. It’s pitch black and I’ve too much rum in me drum to move farther. Hup, boys, hup, boys! It’s no use, me legs is buckling below me like a shivered keel. Perhaps, and I’m lucky, I’ll get a passerby to pick me up. It’s a pitch-dark alley. Ah!

(
A prim
NEGRO STEWARD
passes with a small crate, sees the
SAILOR
,
sneers; then passes on.
SAILOR
rises.
)

SAILOR

Hey you, nigger! give us a hand there, mate.

Hey, you, come back here. You, buck, give us a hand.

STEWARD
(
Long pause, sneers.
)

Talking to me?

SAILOR

Yes, mate. I’m on me way to the ship, aren’t you a nigger?

I can’t hardly make out complexions in this obscurity.

STEWARD

Give you a hand? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(
Moves off.
)

SAILOR

Hey, you can’t go off, I compel you to give me a hand.

STEWARD
(
Setting down the cask carefully.
)

Now look. You see here yourself, mister man! If you can’t ack like a gentleman in a respectable British colony, then all I could say to you is you should be ashamed of yourself. A sailor of His Majesty’s navy, a Englishman, and drunk as a lord on the demon rum. And look here, too, besides, friend. I not one of these common nigger men you see working down by the carenage hauling spiders and getting on like they ain’t got self-respeck for their owners, yuh! I works at Sir George Somers’s cousin’s as house, food, and wine steward, so hence the uniform which I intends to respeck! A Englishman like you cavorting in this public alley on a Sunday night!

(
The
SAILOR
recoils from the outburst.
)

SAILOR

Look, mate, it’s late and I’m due aboard.

STEWARD

I don’t care what time it is, this is the year 1618, and this is a British colony, and Barbados is not one of them loose-living other colonies in these islands with their riotous living, like Jamaica and the buccaneers, and the other places, this is a decent self-respecking colony with a sense of justice and decency. You not in St. Kitts, Antigua, or St. Lucia, or one of them nasty French places, and I consider you should be ashamed of yourself! You have a responsibility to protect these British colonies with vessels, and so discharge them according to your service, before I take your name and number! Imagine, shouting my name out in the middle of the night like some bewildered alley cat. I am a steward, in a decent conducted plantation, and house-proud. Why, you getting on like one of them convicts and indentured Englishmen that they send out to work in the colonies. Now get up and march. You villain. Get up, I say, and remember the flag you fly under, you wicked thing you, and give me that bottle. On, get on. You villainous thing you. The ship is yonder. Now garn, garn. (
Pushes
SAILOR
off.
) A sailor of His Majesty and drunk! (
He exits.
)

Scene 8

The Death of Raleigh

1618. Cold dawn. The Tower of London. Enter
RALEIGH
.
Behind him a
PRIEST
and an
EXECUTIONER
.
Drumbeat.

RALEIGH

The wind is sharp, keen as an axe’s edge.

PRIEST

                                                          Sir Walter, now is the time

When you must fit your vessel for that fatal sea,

To that Virginian voyage, death’s New Found Land.

Yet Christ shall guard you.

RALEIGH

                                                  Do you hear that, executioner?

Make no arrangements for my supper tonight.

Come, lead me to the summit of all endeavour.

PRIEST

God keep you on that long voyage, Sir Walter.

RALEIGH

I had forgotten God too long, my age is finished,

Just as de Berrio said, as the old sailor warned

At my son’s cost, and broken Laurence Keymis.

I’ll tell you this, Father, although my hermit’s voice

Will be drowned in the roar of wars and politics,

The only wisdom, whether of single man or nation,

Is to study the brevity of this life and love it.

That’s the poor wisdom I bequeath to soldiers.

If I sound unreasonable, sir, it is because, again,

I have lost my head. Look, I get not even a dry laugh.

EXECUTIONER

Come.

(
They climb the steps.
RALEIGH
places his head on the block. Drums to crescendo. Blackout.
)

(
Enter
CHORUS
in single spot.
)

CHORUS

The blood that jets from Raleigh’s severed head

Lopped like a rose when England’s strength was green,

Spreads on the map its bright imperial red

To close the stain of conquest on our scene.

So Time turns now from Europe and the sea,

Revolves its gaze and shows the land itself,

Hundreds of battles past the discovery,

To the slaves’ suffering and the settlers’ wealth,

Until an exiled people find release,

Through revolutions of despair and love,

As human suffering presages peace.

How shall we love, till we have known love’s cost,

How praise our liberty, so lately earned,

How shall our brothers love, till we forgive?

And so to Haiti now our theme is turned.

How shall we live, till these ghosts bid us live?

(
Fade-out. Music.
)

Scene 9

Haiti.
GENERAL LECLERC
’s mansion.
M. ARMAND CALIXTE-BREDA
;
his nephew,
ANTON
,
apart.
GENERAL LECLERC, GENERAL
and
MADAME DE ROUVRAY
.
Liveried
NEGRO LACKEYS
.
Night. The garden. Wine is served.

LECLERC

It’s not quite as terrible as one had imagined,

This heat, I mean, General. In France one had heard

That Haiti was a plague of fevers and sweltering heat,

Yet your garden is cool, and the view is excellent.

DE ROUVRAY

You will find it almost wintry later, in the mountains.

You can imagine what terrain it is for a revolt.

I have very little sentiment in surrendering my command.

LECLERC

And you, Madame de Rouvray?

MADAME DE ROUVRAY

                                             You know wives, General Leclerc.

This is what I shall miss, the supervision of my gardens,

I hope Madame Pauline will look after these lilies.

Monsieur Calixte, I know, will understand my misery,

Being himself the paragon of planters.

CALIXTE-BREDA

                                                         I can understand, madame.

I comprehend completely your devotion to lilies.

MADAME DE ROUVRAY

And since Madame Pauline is absent, General,

Perhaps you can tell us of the situation in Paris.

DE ROUVRAY

She probably means the fashions, but, my dear Emilie,

General Leclerc is more proficient at uprooting rebellions

Than in describing Paris couture and the qualities of flowers.

LECLERC

It has altered considerably since the birth of the republic.

But Calixte’s nephew has returned, full of enthusiasm,

So perhaps Monsieur Anton—it is Anton, is it not, monsieur?

Perhaps this silent gentleman is the best one to ask.

MADAME DE ROUVRAY

Haiti has also altered. Things are terribly unsettled.

Is there much similarity, in your opinion, Anton?

(
ANTON
moves away.
)

CALIXTE-BREDA

When Anton drinks too much wine, as he did here at dinner,

The boy falls into an unshakeable melancholy.

MADAME DE ROUVRAY

Do you think Madame Leclerc may have met with an accident?

It is dangerous to be riding these roads at night alone.

LECLERC
(
Smiles.
)

My wife is not alone. I think she should be safe.

DE ROUVRAY

You see there is always the danger of runaway slaves;

Then, there are serpents …

MADAME DE ROUVRAY

                                     And so many other dangers, monsieur.

There are hazards much more subtle in a colonial society.

CALIXTE-BREDA
(
Laughs.
)

I resent that word, excuse me, “colonial.”

MADAME DE ROUVRAY
(
Fanning.
)

                                                 Oh, quite innumerable hazards.

The danger, though concealed of a mixed aristocracy,

The ambushes that wait for one under glittering candles,

The serpents in the smiles of the most charming hostess,

Arrows of eyebrows, and artilleries of slander

Behind the barricades of those fluttering fans …

LECLERC

                                        You don’t like the word “colonial”?

This, I presume, then, is the birth of a nation?

Generals who were slaves, each one a black Spartacus.

You know, Napoleon calls them gilded Africans.

DE ROUVRAY

They are becoming quite formal in their conduct of this war.

LECLERC
(
Impatiently
)

This is not a war, de Rouvray, it is a large-scale civic action.

I am employed to subjugate a province of France.

ANTON

                                                                          Do not be so sure,

One must never underrate the authority of the people.

CALIXTE-BREDA

Slaves are not people, they are intelligent animals.

MADAME DE ROUVRAY

Gentlemen, please, let us not lose our tempers.

ANTON

Madame, I am simply saying this is not a revolt.

LECLERC

So at last we grow eloquent. You say the will of the people.