Victor Sejour: "The Mulatto" (English Translation)

The Mulatto




Victor Séjour









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The first rays of dawn whitened the tops barely black mountains, when I left the Cape to get to St. Marc, a small town of St Domingo, now the Republic of Haiti. I had seen so many beautiful countryside, forests, high and deep, in truth I'm bored of these male beauties of creation. But at the sight of that town, with its picturesque vegetation, new and bizarre nature, I was surprised and confused by the variety of the sublime work of God. As soon as I arrived, I was accosted by an old negro, already in his seventies, his steps were firm, his head high, its large size and strong, nothing betrayed his age, if not remarkable whiteness of his hair frizzy. According to the custom of the country, he was wearing a large straw hat, and wearing a large gray linen pants and a camisole kind of ecru batiste

- Hello Master, he said, raising his hat.

- Ah! you are ... and I held out my hand, pressed it gratefully.

- Master, he says, is a noble heart what you do there ... but do you know a negro is as vile a dog ..., the company rejects the men hate him, curse the laws ... Ah! He is a very unfortunate, that not even the consolation of being virtuous always good ... it is born, noble, generous, God gives him a large and loyal soul, even so, often it descends into the grave hands stained with blood, and heart still eager for revenge, for more than one occasion he saw his dreams of destroying young man, because experience has taught him that his good deeds were not counted, and that he should not love his wife or his son, for one day the first will be seduced by the master, and sold off his blood despite his despair. So what do you want it to become? Se ... he will break his head against the pavement of the street? ... He will kill his tormentor? ... Or do you believe that the human heart can be shaped to such misfortunes? ...

The old negro paused as if waiting for my answer.

fool who thinks, 'he said warmly. If he lives, it's for revenge, for soon he gets up ... and the day he shakes his servility, it would be better to hear the teacher yelling hungry tiger at his side, than to meet face to face ... While the old man spoke, his face lit up, his eyes sparkled, and his heart beat violently. I did not find as much energy as old as an envelope. Taking advantage of this sort of exaltation:

- Anthony, I said, you promised me the story of your friend George.

- Do you listen to me now?

- Willingly ... We sat him on my travel trunk, and me on my suitcase. Here's what he told me:

"You see this building which rises so gracefully into the sky, which seems to be reflected in the sea, this building that resembles, in its originality, a temple, and her coquetry at any palace is home St-M ***. In one room of the building, meet every day walkers, pensioners and large planters. The first two play pool, or a delicious smoked Havana cigar, while the latter buy negroes, that is to say free men, torn by cunning or by force from their homeland, and became, by violence, well, the property of their kind ... Here, we book the husband without the wife is the sister without brother later, the mother without children. You shudder? However, these sales infamous recur at any time. But soon we will offer a young Senegalese, so beautiful that a single exclamation 's escape from every mouth ...

"How pretty she is! "Everyone wants to make the mistress, but no one dares to fight against the young Alfred, one of the richest planters of this country, then twenty-two years.

- How do you ask this woman?

- Fifteen hundred dollars, said the seller.

- Fifteen hundred dollars, Alfred repeated mechanically.

- Yes, sir.

- exactly?

- exactly.

- It's horribly expensive.

- Cher ... divides the seller a sign of surprise, but you not you see how pretty she is, like his skin is shiny, like the flesh is firm. She has eighteen years at the most ... As he spoke, he cast his hands on the shameless and powerful forms of half-naked beautiful African.

- It is guaranteed, said Alfred, after a moment's reflection?

- as pure as the dew of heaven, 'said the salesman, but the rest, you can do ...

- No, no ... it's useless, 'said Alfred, interrupting him, I trust in you.

- I've never sold the wrong goods, distributes the seller, under his whiskers with a triumphant air. When the deed was signed and all formalities completed, the seller approached the young slave:

- This man is your master now, he said, pointing to Alfred.

- I know, coldly replied the negress .

- In are you happy?

- What does it matter to him ... or else ...

- But still - the vendor stammered, looking for an answer.

- But still what? said the African angrily, and if it does not suit me?

- Well, it would be a misfortune, for it is all over ...

- So I keep my thoughts to me.

Ten minutes later, the new slave of Alfred got into a cart that took the path of the wasps , quite convenient road that leads to the delightful countryside, clustered around St. Mark's as young virgins at the foot of the altar. A deep melancholy enveloped her soul, she was crying. The driver understood too well what was happening in it, to try to distract her, but when he saw the white house of Alfred emerge in the distance, he leaned toward the involuntary poor unfortunate, and in a voice full of tears, he said,

- Sister, what's your name?

- Lais, she replied without looking up.

- At this name, the driver shuddered, but mastering his emotion, he continued:

- Your mother?

- It is dead ...

- Your father?

- He died ...

- Poor child, he whispered ...

- What country are you, Lais?

- From Senegal ...

Tears came to his eyes and he had just met a fellow countryman.

- sister, 'he said, wiping his eyes, you probably know the old Chambo and his daughter ...

- Why, answered the girl, raising her head quickly?

- Why, the driver went on anxiously, but the old Chambo is my father, and ...

- My God, "cried the orphan, without giving him time to finish, you are? ...

- Jacques Chambo.

- My brother

- Lais! ...

They threw themselves into the arms of the each other. They were still entwined, when the truck entered the main part of the house of Alfred. The manager was there ... What I see, "cried he, with a whip down huge, he always wore hanging from his belt, Jacques embracing to me ... what the newcomer impertinence ! ... With that, the lash fell on the unfortunate, and rivers of blood gushed from his face.



II.



Alfred may have been good, man, loyal to his equals, but, certainly, that was a hard man, wicked to his slaves. I will not tell you all that he did have to Lais, for it was almost raped. For almost a year, she shared the bed of her master, but Alfred already beginning to get tired and it was the ugly, cold, insolent. About this time, the poor woman gave birth to a son whom she named George . Alfred the misunderstood, drove the mother of his presence, and relegated him in the worst cabin of his home, though convinced, as far as we can to be, he was the father of that child.

George had grown up without never heard the name his father's name, and if he sometimes tried to solve the mystery that surrounded his birth, he found his mother and inflexible to dumb questions. Only once she said:

- My son, you will not know his name only to your twenty-fifth year, for then thou shalt be a man, you will be more able to keep such a secret. Do not you know that he has forbidden me to tell you about him, on pain of hate you ... and you know, George ... the hatred of this man is death.

- Whatever, s' Georges cry out impetuously, at least I could reproach him for his infamous conduct ...

- Shut up ... shut up, George ... the walls have ears, and brush can speak, whispered the poor mother, trembling ...

Some years later, this unfortunate died, leaving any inheritance for George, his only son, a small bag of deerskin, which was the portrait of his father, but the only promise not to open that at its twenty-fifth year. Then she kissed him, and his head fell back on the pillow she was dead ... ... The cry of pain that threw the orphan caught the other slaves ... They began to cry, beating their breasts, tear their hair in despair . After the first marks of pain, they washed the body of the deceased, and exposed on a kind of long table supported by trestles. The dead is lying on his back, his face turned toward the East, dressed in his best clothes, and hands crossed on his chest. At his feet is a small cup full of holy water on which floats a branch of jasmine and finally, around the death bed, s' raise torches ... Everyone, after blessing the remains of the deceased, s 'kneel and pray as most Negro races, despite their fetish, deeply believe in the existence of God. The first ceremony was over, another begins ... no less remarkable are the cries, tears, songs, dances and funeral! ...





III.



George had all the necessary to become a very honest man, but it 'was one of those haughty and stubborn wills, one of these organizations Oriental, pushed away from the path of virtue, not afraid to walk the road of crime . He would have given ten years of his life for the name of his father, but he dared to violate the solemn promise made ​​to his dying mother. As if nature led him to Alfred, he loved her as much as one can love a man: while it's estimated, but this considers that the groom is the best and most vigorous his horses. At that time, a horde of brigands were desolation in these places, already more than a settler had been their victim. One night, I do not know by what chance, George was informed of their project. They had sworn to kill Alfred. As soon as the slave runs to his master.

- Master, master, "cried he ... for heaven's sake, follow me.

Alfred frowned.

- Oh! come, come, master, went forward to the mulatto.

- By Heaven, 'said Alfred, I think you control me.

- Sorry, Master ... sorry ... I'm so confused ... I do not know what I'm saying ... but, Heaven's sake, come, follow me ... ... because

- do you explain, said Alfred, in a tone of anger ...

The mulatto hesitated.

- I want, I order, 'said Alfred, rising to menacingly.

- Master, we must kill you tonight.

- Lady, you lie ...

- Master, they want to your life.

- Who?

- Bandits.

- Who told you?

- Master, c It's my secret ... said the mulatto in a submissive voice.

- Are you armed, 'said Alfred, after a moment of silence?

The mulatto pushed some rags which covered it, and showed an ax and a pair of pistols.

- Well done, says Alfred hastily arming themselves.

- Master, are you ready?

- Let ...

- Let's go, 'repeated the mulatto, stepping to the door ...

Alfred caught him by the arm.

- But where are Us

- In the closest of friends, Mr. Arthur.

They went out when the door creaked on its hinges.

- Hell, murmured the mulatto, it's too late ...

- What do you say?

They are there, George said, pointing to the door ...

- Oh ...

- Master, what do you have?

- Nothing ... unwell ...

- Do not worry, master, before coming to you, they will walk me to the body, says the slave with a calm and resigned.

The still air, this noble devotion were likely to reassure the mortal looser. However, these words, Alfred trembled more, for a horrible idea overwhelmed: he imagined that the generous George was the accomplice of his killers. These are the tyrants they believe the rest of men incapable of a high sense, a boundless devotion, for their souls are narrow and treacherous ... It's a wasteland, where only grow bramble and ivy. The door shook violently ... This time, Alfred could not control his cowardice, he had just seen the smiling mulatto was it of joy or anger? It did not take this.

- Wretch cried he, s' a stitch in next room you wanted to assassinate me, but your wait will be deceived, and he disappeared ... George bit his lips with rage, but he could not do any thinking, as the door opened suddenly, and four men stood on the threshold. Quick as the lightning, the mulatto cocked his pistols, and attaches itself against the wall, crying in a stentorian voice:

- Infamous! What do you want?

- We want to talk to you in the face, said one of them, drawing Georges at close range.

- Well drawn, whispered it convulsively.

The bullet had shattered his left arm. He fired. The robber turned three times on himself and fell dead. A second followed closely. Then, like a raging lion harassed by hunters, Georges, ax in hand and a dagger between his teeth, ran over his opponents ... A terrible fight is committed ... The fighters rush ... face ... ... The interwoven ax shines ... the blood flows ... the dagger, true to the hand that grows, plows the chest of the enemy ... but not a cry ... not a word ... not a breath s' escape of these three mouths of men who rush between the bodies as in a heady orgy ... To see them as well, pale and bloody, dumb and desperate, we figure three ghosts that collide and tear each other apart at the bottom of a tomb ... But George is covered with wounds, he argues just ... Oh! it is all of the intrepid mulatto ax sharp rises on his head ... Suddenly two explosions are heard, and the two robbers fall in blaspheming God. Meanwhile, Alfred returned, followed by a young negro. He carried the wounded in his cabin, and ordered him to bring his doctor. Meanwhile, learn how George was saved by the same man who accused him of treason. Just away, Alfred hears the sound of a gun, and the clatter of iron blush of his cowardice, he awakens his valet, and flies to the rescue of his deliverer. - I forgot to tell you that George was a woman named Celia, whom he loved with all the power of his soul, it 'was a mulatto girl of eighteen to twenty years, the size arched, with black hair , to look full of love and pleasure. George remained twelve days between life and death. Alfred went to see her often, prompted by I know not what fatality, it s' of fell in love with Celia, but unfortunately for him, this was not one of those women who sell their love, or engage in homage to their master . She pushed with humble dignity proposals Alfred, for she did not forget that it 'was the teacher who spoke to the slave. - Instead of being touched by that virtue so rare among women, especially among those who, like Celia, are slaves, and who see their lewd companions each day as prostitutes to the settlers, and fuel their licentiousness, instead of be touched, I say, Alfred angry ... What! he, the despot, the Bey, Sultan of the West Indies, be despised by a slave ... what irony! ... So he vowed to possess ... A few days before recovery of George, Alfred sent for Celia in her room . So, listening only to his criminal desires, he clasps his arms, and deposited on a hot kiss his cheek, the young slave beg, beg, resists, but in vain ... He already leads to layer adultery; ... So already, the virtuous servant, full of noble indignation, rejected by a last effort, but so sudden, but so powerful, that Alfred lost balance and smashed his head falling. In this view, Zelie tore his hair in despair, and wept with rage, because she understood, the poor, that death was waiting to have shed the blood of a being so vile. When she had a good cry, she went to her husband. - This one probably dreamed of it, for he had a smile on the lips.

- George ... George ... "cried she anxiously.

The mulatto opened his eyes, he felt the first need was to smile to his beloved. Celia told him what just happened. He would not believe it, but soon he was convinced of his misfortune, for the men entered her hut and pinioned his wife crying ... George made ​​an effort to get up, but still too weak, he fell on the layer, the haggard, his hands clenched, mouth gasping.





IV.



Ten days after two small white Creoles were playing in the middle of the street.

- Charles, said one of them: it is said that the mulatto woman who wanted to kill his master will be hanged tomorrow?

- At eight o'clock, 'replied the other.

- Will you go?

- No doubt.

- It will be nice to see her pirouetting between heaven and earth resumed the first, and s' drove away laughing.

Are you surprised to hear two ten year olds talk so merrily in the death of others is a consequence may be fatal for their education. From their infancy they repeat that we are born to serve, bless ed for their whims, and they should consider us nothing more than a dog ... But what they care about our agony and sufferings? do not they see their best horses often die? They do not cry, because they are rich, tomorrow they will buy other ... While these two children spoke, George was on his knees before his master.

- Master, thanks ... thanks ... "cried he, weeping ... ... have mercy on her master, save her ... Oh! so save it, because you can ... oh! ... you speak one word to say ... one ... and she will live. Alfred did not answer.

- Oh! pity ... pity ... master tell me that you forgive him ... oh! talk ... tell me, Master ... do not you forgive him ... and the unfortunate writhing in pain ...

Alfred, still impassive, turned away ...

- Oh! George went begging, answer me ... one word answer ... but then, you do not see your silence me torture the heart ... ... is killing me

- I can not do anything about it, finally answered in a tone of Alfred ice.

The mulatto dried her tears, and rose to his full height.

- Master, he continued in a hollow voice, do you remember what you told me when I writhed in agony on my bed.

- Not ...

- Well I remember ... the master said to the slave: you saved my life, what do you want to reward? do you want your freedom ...? master, the slave replied, I can not be free, when my son and my wife are slaves. Then the master said: if you ever pray to me, I swear that your wishes will come true, and asked the slave, for he was happy to have saved the life of his master ... but now he knows that in eighteen hours his wife will live, he runs to jump to your feet, and you cry master, the name of God, save my wife. And the mulatto, hands clasped, pleading look, went back to his knees and wept floods of tears ...

... Alfred turned his head

- Master ... master ... for pity's sake answer me ... oh! say you want her to live in God's name ... ... ... with your mother ... mercy ... and the mulatto kissed the dust of his feet.

Alfred was silent.

- But at least talk to this poor man who begs you, 'he sobbed.

Alfred did not answer.

- My God ... my God! I'm unhappy ... and he rolled on the floor, and tore his hair in despair.

Alfred Finally decided to speak

- I've already said it was no longer for me to forgive.

- Master murmured George always crying, it will probably be convicted, because you and I alone know that she is innocent.

At this last word of the mulatto, the red rose to the figure of Alfred and anger in his heart ...

George realized that it was no longer time to pray, for he had raised the veil that concealed the crime of his master, yet he rose with a determined air.

- Exit ... going in, cried Alfred.

Instead out the mulatto folded his arms across the chest, and a fierce look, he stared at his master's feet to the head.

- Will ... in going in, I tell you, 'said Alfred with anger grew.

- I will not leave, said George:

- You make me brave, miserable. He made ​​a motion to strike, but his hand remained glued to his thigh, as there was pride and hatred in the eyes of George.

- What! you can let it kill, kill, murder, said the mulatto, when you know the innocent ... when you wanted to seduce her loose.

- Insolent, what do you say?

- I say it would be a shame to let her die ...

- George ... George ...

- I say you're a villain, leaving George yelled to his anger, and seizing him by the arm Alfred ... ah! she dies ... she dies because she did not prostitute to you ... to you because you are white ... to you because you are his master ... ... infamous seducer

- Georges, take care, 'said Alfred trying to take a confident tone. Beware that instead of a victim is tomorrow's executioner in two.

- You talk of victim and executioner, miserable, yelled George ... This means that she will die ... ... my Zelie ... but you do not know that your life is tied to his.

- George!

- But you do not know your head on your shoulders will do that as she lives.

- George ... George!

- But you do not know that I will kill you ... I drink your blood if they ever tear a hair of his head.

And all the while the mulatto Alfred shook all the strength of his arm.

- Let me go, cried Alfred.

- Ah! she dies ... she dies, the mulatto screamed in delirium.

- George, let me go!

- Shut up ... shut up, miserable ... ah! she will die ... well, the key executioner in the days of my wife ... went there with a ghastly smile.

Alfred was so upset, he did not see George out. It immediately went to his cabin, where, in a small cradle an infant creeper slept for two years, he took it and disappeared. To understand what follows, remember that the home of Alfred there was a small river to be in the middle of thick forests, which seem to embrace the new world.

For six solid hours George worked hard and finally he stopped a few steps of a hut, built in the thick of the forest, you will understand this kind of joy that shone in her eyes when you know that this tiny shack, all alone, that 'it is the camp of runaway slaves, in other words slaves fleeing the tyranny of their masters. Right now the whole cabin was in an uproar, we had just heard the forest tremble and the chief had sworn that the noise n 'is caused by any animal, or he cocked his gun and went out ... Suddenly the bushes bend before him, and he finds himself face to face with a stranger.

- For my freedom, "cried he, by adjusting the unknown, you know too well our niche.

- Africa and freedom, said Georges without s' move, but by pushing aside the gun barrel ... I am one of you.

- Your name.

- Georges Alfred slave.

They shook hands and embraced.

The next day the crowd gathered around a gallows, on which hung the body of a young mulatto woman ... When she was quite dead, the executioner got his body in a coffin of pine and ten minutes after they threw the body and coffin in a grave dug at the entrance to the forest.

So this woman for being too virtuous died of execution of the infamous, do you think that fact alone is not enough to make the sweetest man, wicked and bloodthirsty?





V.



S three years' were passed since the death of the virtuous Zelie. Alfred in the early days was very troubled, the day he expected to see at any time an avenging hand lowered his forehead, he trembled at night because it brought him fearful and terrible dreams, but soon driving out of his soul, and the painful memory of the martyr, and the terrible threat of George, he married, became a father ... Oh! he was happy when he was told that his wishes were fulfilled, he humbly kissed each night the floor of the temple, praying to Our Lady of pain to give him a son.

George also had his share of happiness in the came into the world of the child: for if he had hoped three years without knowing the executioner of hitting his wife if he had spent so many sleepless nights, the fury in his heart and his hand on his dagger, c ' Alfred would have expected is that, like him, a wife and a son that he would kill him only when the links would retain the expensive and precious in this world ... George had always maintained intimate relations with a slave of Alfred, he even went to see every week, yet this slave had nothing better to do than to announce the existence of the newborn ... once he flies to the home of his enemy, comes across a black woman who wore a cup of broth to Mrs. Alfred, he stops, he said a few meaningless words, and s' away ... After many difficulties, he managed to crawl like a snake in the room Alfred bedroom ... there, hidden behind the bedside, he waited for his master ... Alfred returned an instant later by singing, he opened his secretary, took a superb green diamond that he had promised his wife, if it gave him a son, but filled with joy and happiness, he sat head in hands, like a man who can not believe in an unexpected happiness, but when he looked up he saw before him a kind of shadow still, arms folded across his chest, and two burning eyes that had all the ferocity of the tiger about to tear its prey. Alfred made ​​a movement to rise, but a strong hand held him on the chair.

- What do you want, Alfred accentuated in a trembling voice.

- Te compliment of the birth of your son, 'replied a voice which seemed out of the grave.

shuddered Alfred foot to the head, his hair stood on end, and a cold sweat flooded its members.

- I do not know you, Alfred murmured weakly ...

- My name is George.

- You ...

- You thought I was dead is not it, said the mulatto, with a convulsive laugh.

- ... Help for help, cried Alfred ...

- Who will rescue you, 'replied the mulatto ... have not you returned your home, close all your doors, to be alone with your wife ... you know so that your screams are useless ... and recommend your soul to God.

Alfred s' was gradually relieved of his chair, but this last word, he fell back pale and trembling.

- Oh ! sorry, George ... do not kill me today.

George shrugged. - Master, is not it horrible to die when we are happy to lie in the grave when one sees his fondest dreams come true ... oh! Is not it awful, said the mulatto, with an infernal laugh ...

- Thanks, George ...

- However, he continued, that is your destiny ... you will die today, at this hour, in a minute , to say to your wife one last farewell ...

- Pity ... pity ...

- No kiss a second time your son is born ...

- Oh! thanks thanks ....

- I think my vengeance worthy of yours ... I sold my soul to Satan if he promised me this time.

- Oh! ... with mercy, Alfred said, throwing himself at the feet of mulatto.

George shrugged his shoulders and raised his ax.

- Oh ... another hour of life!

- To kiss your wife is not it?

- Wait a minute ...

- To see your son, is not it?

- Oh! ... out of pity

- it would be better to request the hungry tiger to let go its prey.

- In God's name, George.

- I no longer believe.

- On behalf of your father ...

At this word the wrath of Georges fell. - My father ... my father, said the mulatto a tear in the eye, you know ... oh! tell me his name ... what name does it ... oh! say, tell me his name ... I will bless you ... I forgive you.

And the mulatto was ready to kneel before his master. But suddenly shrill cries are heard ...

- Good heavens ... the voice of my wife, "cried Alfred s slenderness in the direction whence the cries ...

As reminded himself, the mulatto remembered that he had come to his master, not to know the name of his father, but has to ask his wife's blood. Alfred retaining soon, he said with a sneer horrible

- Stop, Master, it is nothing.

- Jesus Maria, you do not hear it asks for help.

- It is nothing, I tell you I.

- Let me go ... let me go ... it is the voice of my wife.

- No ... it's the death rattle of a dying woman.

- Wretch, you lie.

- I poisoned.

- Oh ...

- Do you hear these complaints ... it is his.

- ... Hell

- Do you hear the cries ... ... they are his

- Curse ...

And all this time, Alfred was trying to escape from the hands of the mulatto, but he will the increasingly embraced, for his head too excited, his heart leapt, he was terrible in his role.

- Alfred to the rescue ... ... water ... I 'm choking a woman cried ... s in 'stitches in the middle of the room. She was pale and his eyes went out of her head, her hair was in disorder.

- Alfred, Alfred ... for heaven's sake, help me ... a little water ... a little water ... my blood burns me ... My heart clenches, oh! Water, water ...

Alfred was making desperate efforts to save her, but George kept his hand of iron, and grinning like a madman, he cried not, master ... not ... I want this woman die ... there ... in your eyes before you ... ... you understand, sir, before you, telling you the water, air, not that you can rescue her.

- O woe ... woe to you, screaming Alfred, struggling like a madman.

- You will have great curse, blaspheme, said the mulatto, this must be it.

- Alfred, again whispered the dying, farewell ... farewell ... I die ...

- Look, said the mulatto always with a sneer ... gasp ... she looks ... well! a single drop of this water and take her life. He showed him a small bottle.

- My whole fortune for this drop of water ... cried Alfred.

- Are you crazy, Master ...

- Ah! the water ... the water ... do not you see she is dying ... Give ... Give ... So

- Here ... and the mulatto broke the bottle against the wall.

- Be cursed, shouted Alfred, George, seizing him by the neck ... oh ! my whole life, my soul for a dagger ...

George got rid of the hands of Alfred.

- Now that she is dead, your turn, sir, he said, raising his ax. Strike, strike executioner ... ... after having been poisoned, although you can kill your pil ... The ax fell, and the head of Alfred rolled on the floor, but the head while driving the last syllable distinctly murmured re ... George believed have not heard, but the word father . like the funeral knell, ringing in his ears, yet to be sure, he opened the bag fatal ... ah! he cried, I cursed ... a detonation was heard the next day they found near the corpse of one of the unfortunate Alfred George.


Copyright: 2011 Beaver County Writer's Guild