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 AFRICAN HISTORIES AND MODERNITIES

FREE SLAVES,
FREETOWN, AND
THE SIERRA LEONEAN
CIVIL WAR
Joseph Kaifala
African Histories and Modernities

Series Editors
Toyin Falola
The University of Texas at Austin
Austin, Texas, USA

Matthew M. Heaton
Virginia Tech
Blacksburg, USA
Aim of the Series
This book series serves as a scholarly forum on African contributions
to and negotiations of diverse modernities over time and space, with a
particular emphasis on historical developments. Specifically, it aims to
refute the hegemonic conception of a singular modernity, Western in
origin, spreading out to encompass the globe over the last several decades.
Indeed, rather than reinforcing conceptual boundaries or parameters, the
series instead looks to receive and respond to changing perspectives on
an important but inherently nebulous idea, deliberately creating a space
in which multiple modernities can interact, overlap, and conflict. While
privileging works that emphasize historical change over time, the series
will also feature scholarship that blurs the lines between the historical and
the contemporary, recognizing the ways in which our changing under-
standings of modernity in the present have the capacity to affect the way
we think about African and global histories. Editorial Board Aderonke
Adesanya, Art History, James Madison University Kwabena Akurang-
Parry, History, Shippensburg University Samuel O. Oloruntoba, History,
University of North Carolina, Wilmington Tyler Fleming, History,
University of Louisville Barbara Harlow, English and Comparative
Literature, University of Texas at Austin Emmanuel Mbah, History,
College of Staten Island Akin Ogundiran, Africana Studies, University of
North Carolina, Charlotte

More information about this series at

http://www.springer.com/series/14758
 Joseph Kaifala

Free Slaves, Freetown,

and the Sierra
Leonean Civil War
Joseph Kaifala
The Jeneba Project Inc.
New York, USA

African Histories and Modernities

ISBN 978-1-349-94853-6 ISBN 978-1-349-94854-3 (eBook)
DOI 10.1057/978-1-349-94854-3

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016957295

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2017

This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the
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electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now
known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this
publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are
exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information
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The registered company address is: 1 New York Plaza, New York, NY 10004, U.S.A.
 For my mother, Mrs. Tewa Kaifala
And
In memory of my grandmother, Jeneba Kaifala
 PREFACE

Sierra Leone is a remarkable country whose history has not been granted
the comprehensive exploration it deserves. The country was home to slave
ports that supplied plantations in the Americas and West Indies with the
human cargo needed to maintain the Transatlantic Slave Trade. At the
end of the slave trade, British abolitionists chose Sierra Leone as a place
to resettle free slaves, which started with the arrival of the Black Poor
from London in 1787. The Nova Scotians, free African-American slaves
who fought alongside the British in the American Revolutionary wars,
arrived five years later, in 1792. The Maroons, rebellious African slaves
in Jamaica, were also repatriated to Sierra Leone through Nova Scotia in
1800. The last group of free slaves to settle in Sierra Leone was known as
the Recaptives, those freed onboard illegal slave ships in enforcement of
British slave trade abolition laws.
Another group of slaves who became the center of international atten-
tion at the time was the Sierra Leoneans who mutinied onboard the
Spanish schooner, La Amistad, and navigated the ship to US shores.
Competing claims for the Africans and the schooner landed the case in US
federal courts. After months of litigation and diplomatic counterclaims
between Spain and US, the US Supreme Court granted the Africans their
freedom and ordered their safe return to Sierra Leone. American Quakers
and influential abolitionists such as Lewis Tappan, Roger S. Baldwin, and
former President John Quincy Adams took up the cause of the Amistad
Africans. Sengbe Pieh or Joseph Cinque, the celebrated Mende leader of
the mutineers, and his comrades were eventually freed and transported
to Sierra Leone. These groups of free slaves named their settlement

vii
viii PREFACE

Freetown, which is the capital of Sierra Leone. Amidst unforeseen difficul-

ties, Freetown was transformed from a slave port to one of the most lively
trade hubs on the Atlantic coast of West Africa under the administration
of free slaves and representatives of the English Crown.
Sierra Leone remained a British colony until 1961 when it obtained
independence. Unlike many other British African colonies, Sierra Leone
flourished under British administration and Freetown was referred to as
the “Athens of West Africa,” a place where black intellectuals and philoso-
phers roamed the streets. The Church Missionary Society (CMS) estab-
lished Fourah Bay College in 1827 to educate Africans. It also founded
the Sierra Leone Grammar School in 1845, the first secondary school in
West Africa, to provide education and religious training. Relation between
Britain and Sierra Leone was so cordial that unlike other countries, Sierra
Leone avoided a war of independence with its colonizer.
Sierra Leone prospered in the years immediately following indepen-
dence until the death of its first Prime Minister, Sir Milton Margai, in
1964. The ensuing years were marred by coups and countercoups until
the establishment of a one-party state in 1978 by its first president, Siaka
Stevens. By the time President Stevens retired in 1985, he had orches-
trated a series of constitutional amendments that allowed him to handpick
a Sierra Leone military officer named Joseph Saidu Momoh to replace
him. Momoh’s regime, which lasted from 1985 until his overthrow by
a military junta in 1992, was a continuation of Stevens’ dictatorship and
maladministration.
In March 1991, the Revolutionary United Front (RUF) led by Corporal
Foday Saybana Sankoh invaded Sierra Leone with the support of Charles
Ganghay Taylor, leader of the National Patriotic Front of Liberia (NPFL).
The Sierra Leonean civil war was one of the most brutal wars of the twen-
tieth century and it became notorious for the use of child soldiers and the
vicious amputation of civilians with blunt machetes. When the 1996 Sierra
Leone Electoral Commission produced a slogan that the future of the
country was in the hands of the people, the rebels decided to chop off the
hands of civilians. The civil war ended in 2002 and two transitional justice
institutions were established—the Special Court for Sierra Leone (SCSL)
and the Sierra Leone Truth and Reconciliation Commission (SLTRC).
The SCSL was granted international criminal jurisdiction over those who
bear the greatest responsibility for the conflict, and the SLTRC was estab-
lished to create an impartial historical record of the conflict.
 PREFACE ix

No book has provided a complete narrative of the history of Sierra

Leone from its days as a slave harbor through its founding as a home for
free slaves, to its political independence and civil war. The aim of this book
is to provide a comprehensive understanding of the country in its times of
war and peace and to offer the reader a clear account of the various stages
of Sierra Leone’s sociopolitical development in a global context. A major
goal of the book is to provide a one-stop shop for Sierra Leone’s history,
from its founding to the end of the civil war. From the English slave case
of James Somerset (1772), which established that a slave could not be forc-
ibly removed from England to be re-sold, to the Amistad case in the US
Supreme Court, which set free Africans destined for Cuban plantations,
Sierra Leone has always been inextricably connected to the world.
This book also explores how a peace-loving country descended into a
decade of violent conflict that left it completely devastated. It is the first
book to offer a full historical narrative of Sierra Leone both in times of
war and peace. Such a book is paramount as the country embarks on its
remaking. The book is also a resource for world historians, international
legal researchers, and ordinary people who are interested in the history
and transformation of Sierra Leone. More importantly, it provides the
next generation of Sierra Leoneans with an understanding of their history
in order to further the aim of preventing a repetition of past errors that
often lead to unspeakable violence. My hope is that as Sierra Leoneans
continue to work toward forgiveness and reconciliation, they will walk
with an understanding of their past, because what we are is influenced by
where we have been.

Bowie, USA Joseph Kaifala

 ACKNOWLEDGMENT

I have always been interested in the study of history because of my belief

that who we are is shaped by our past. This book is the first product of an
extensive research into who we are as a nation.
I thank Francis Ben Kaifala, Esq. who is my beloved brother and intel-
lectual source of support. I also thank my sisters, Hawa Kaifala-Samba,
Amie Kaifala-Camara, Doris Jamiru, and Jeneba Kaifala, for the love and
laughter. I am grateful to my brother, Sahr Kendema, for the journey
we have been through together. Many thanks to Dr. Jowo Aberdeen,
Miniratu Kamara, and Aunty Kadie Aberdeen. Thank you to my brother-
in-law, Augustine Samba.
When my father died, my uncle, Sahr Joseph Tolno, welcomed
my bother and me into his home and enrolled us at the Sierra Leone
Grammar School. Sahr J., this book is a gift to you! Thank you to my aunt
Jeneba and my cousins, Samuel, Ben, and Patrick. I am also grateful to
my aunt, Mrs. Adeyemi Tolno and my cousin Valerie Tolno. To my lovely
aunt, Angeline Tolno and her husband, Docteur Saa Dimio Sandouno.
For the love of my cousins, Sia Tolno, Pascal Tolno, Mohamed Camara,
Watta Sandouno, Mariata Sandouno, Borbor Sandouno, Sia Tolno of
Concasseur, John and Edmond Kettor, Lucy Francoise Tongi, Christiana
Satta Tongi, and Abraham Kabba. Aunty Fatu Kettor, Emilia, and Hawa
Tongi, I say thank you.
I thank my brother, my comrade, Musa Adams, who has been my aca-
demic companion since the days when we walked miles on dusty roads to get
to various refugee schools. Dandora Tongi, thank you for your love. I am
grateful to Fatmata Tina Jalloh-Chamberlain for the family bond we have.

xi
xii ACKNOWLEDGMENT

Without your kindness and support this work would not have been eas-
ily accomplished. Many thanks to Elijah Koroma, Imani Koroma, and Ms.
Abdinnah Jalloh. Thanks to my Landors, Alhassan Jalloh and Adulrahman
Jalloh. To Memuna Jalloh and her lovely children, Isatu and my darling
Yeabeh. Thank you Mohamed Jalloh, Alyssa LaPane, Ms. Karimata Bah,
and comrades Chernor and Aissatou Bah for your friendship. A very special
thanks to Dr. Judith Goldstein and Humanity in Action.
No other person has shaped me more as a writer than Prof. Michael
Marx. I am a better storyteller because of the work we did together. Thank
you for welcoming me into the Golden-Marx family. I am grateful to Prof.
Catherine Golden, Emmet, and Jesse Golden-Marx. I am also thankful
to Prof. Kate Graney and her family, Sean, Mimi, and Ronan, for your
love and support. Thank you Prof. Stephanie Farrior for shaping me into
a human rights lawyer. I appreciate the love and support of the Shafiroff
family: Martin, Jean, Jackie, and my lovely Elizabeth. When my computer
gave up during the process of writing this book, the Shafiroffs mobilized
and I was back to writing in no time. Thank you to the Krawczyk family:
Hugo, Leonor, Noa, Nir, and Liat, the one soul mate who always chal-
lenges me to become the better of me. I remain grateful to Barbara Opitz,
Carol Springs, Darren Drabek, and Mary-Beth O’Brien for my successes
at Skidmore College.
My sincere gratitude to the Wells: Tamar, Rich, Rebecca and her hus-
band Luis Salmaso, and my dearest Alicia and her husband, Jeremy Day.
I thank you Alicia for your ability to survive my craziness. Thanks to the
Bolmstand family, especially my brother Erik and his wife Frida Carlstedt,
Ulla, and Magnus. For the love of Desiree Øvretveit, Inge Larsen, Anna
Kamilla, Jakob, Johannes and Elias. To Aseem Shrivastava and Maria
Teresa Julianello for believing in me at a time when I had doubts in my
own abilities. I remain grateful to Barbara and Daniel Toa-Kwapong for
parenting us in Flekke. Thank you to the indefatigable principal of the
Sierra Leone Grammar School, A.J. Lasite, who first mentioned Abeokuta
to me and ignited a historical curiosity in my young mind.
I am thankful for the love of Skidfam. There is no love greater than
what we have. To my brother Peter S. Brock, I say thank you for always
believing in me and for all those beer funds. To Billy Peard, for the late
night discussions about the marginalized peoples of the world instead of
reading our casebooks. I am grateful for Sweta Prabhakar and Shannon
Clarke. To my friend Katie R. Thomas, I say go best friend! Thank you to
my Italian intellectual, Federica D’Alessandria, for your friendship. I am
 ACKNOWLEDGMENT xiii

sincerely grateful to Chloe Viner Collins and her husband Shane Collins.
The language in this book is better because of Chloe’s editing. To all other
family, friends, and supporters, thank you.
 CONTENTS

1 Discovery of Sierra Leone 1

2 The Ethnic Makeover 9

3 Granville Sharp’s Fight to Free the Slaves 33

4 Free Slaves in Freetown 59

5 War and Peace in Freetown 91

6 The Amistad Saga 127

7 The Hut Tax War 167

8 Postcolonial Political Fiasco 185

9 RUF Invasion and the First NPRC Coup 213

10 Second NPRC Military Coup

and Elections Before Peace 241

xv
xvi CONTENTS

11 The AFRC Military Coup 259

12 AFRC/RUF Invasion of Freetown and the

Lomé Peace Accord 283

13 Flames of Peace 311

Bibliography 323

Index 331
 CHAPTER 1

Discovery of Sierra Leone

If Africa is the cradle of humanity then Sierra Leone, a small diamond-

shaped country of approximately 28,000 square miles on the west coast
of Africa, is the home of its abandoned children. A bona fide melting pot
of cultures, were the country better than it has been, humanity east and
west, north and south, would have come knocking at its door in search of
their heritage or at least evidence of that macabre transatlantic commercial
transactions in human beings. But Sierra Leoneans have not always been
worthy guardians of their orphanage of humanity, so that for a while, they
hunted one another in a decade of savage bloodbath during a vicious civil
war that lasted from 1991 to 2002. The violent conflict effaced the tri-
umphs of the country’s prominent founding as a home for free slaves and
wrote a lamentation to the post-independence political disintegration that
flung it back to square one.
Modern Sierra Leone received its christening from Pedro de Sintra, a
fifteenth-century Portuguese explorer who visited the area. Signor Pedro’s
expedition reached the west coast of Africa in 1462 and that was when
legends regarding the discovery of Sierra Leone were hatched. Even
though de Sintra was the one to name the country, his compatriot Álvaro
Fernandez, another fifteenth-century explorer in the service of Henry the
Navigator, had visited the region earlier in 1447 and perhaps stopped for
drinking water or to observe the vegetation of the area for future colo-
nization. It is also probable that de Sintra studied Signor Álvaro’s voyage

© The Author(s) 2017 1

J. Kaifala, Free Slaves, Freetown, and the Sierra Leonean
Civil War, African Histories and Modernities,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-349-94854-3_1
2 J. KAIFALA

and learned about the relevance of the Sierra Leone stop to early explor-
ers traveling the west coast of Africa looking for possible hubs to obtain
the human cargo that would be needed for the transatlantic slave trade or
locations for spices on growing demand in Europe.
The available fact is that de Sintra stopped on the coast of Sierra Leone to
refill his water barrels at the Rokel estuary on the coast of Freetown. The area
near the estuary would later become known as the Watering Place because
of its relevance to early European explorers as a stop for drinking water on
their long journeys along the west coast of Africa. Whether de Sintra ever
drew water from Sierra Leone remains part of the mystery surrounding the
baptism of the country. Some say Signor Pedro was so impressed by the
verdurous undulations of the Freetown peninsula mountains, prostrating
in the shape of a crouching lion, the same that would later gladden the
heart of Anna Maria Falconbridge, wife of Alexander Falconbridge, the
first commercial agent of the Sierra Leone Company (SLC), that he pro-
nounced the new locale Serra Lyoa or Lion Mountains. According to Anna
Maria’s Narrative, the “mountains appear to rise gradually from the sea to a
stupendous height, richly wooded and beautifully ornamented by the hand
of nature…”1 The location of Freetown was described as “unquestionably
the best that could be found in that vicinity, for the salubrity of its air,
the goodness of the water, and the excellence of the harbour.”2 The coast
of Freetown is one of the best natural harbors in the world. Conversely,
there are those whose descriptions of events at the naming of the country
exclude European fascination with Sierra Leone’s beautiful natural harbor
and portray, instead, the perilous nature of early European exploration of
the impregnable and treacherous territories of Africa.
Another account of the legend has a more roaring effect. Those who
subscribe to this account believe that there was a shortage of water on
Signor Pedro’s expedition and he remembered a refilling location on the
west coast of Africa probably described by Álvaro or one of his crewmem-
bers. Thus, de Sintra anchored at the Watering Place to refill his casks.
Here, the legend bred a sensational drama that has become titillating to
Sierra Leoneans. Arriving on the coast of Freetown, like the good captain
he may have been, de Sintra must have gone up his ship to first inspect the
land he was about to enter. Whether he ever set foot on Sierra Leonean
soil or not is part of the legend. The story goes that there was heavy wind
blowing through the thick forest of the Freetown peninsula that sounded
like a pride of lions roaring through the jungle. Signor Pedro was certainly
a brave captain to have set sail on an exploration of uncharted territories,
 DISCOVERY OF SIERRA LEONE 3

but not even he was man enough to make himself into a sacrificial prey to
a pride. But was he in fact that brave? That is the question. Whether out
of fear or valor, he remembered to pronounce the name, Serra Lyoa, be it
as a place of beastly menace or a source of natural spring water, and that
has remained an ineffaceable part of legends surrounding the discovery of
Sierra Leone.
The Portuguese were the principal explorers of the west coast of Africa
until the mid-seventeenth century when their expeditions and trading in
Africa began to diminish. Other European powers such as Britain, Holland,
and Denmark entered the business and exerted control of various trading
ports in West Africa. The English slave trader, Sir John Hawkins, visited
Sierra Leone in 1562 and took some 300 slaves from Tagrin, on the Sierra
Leone River.3 Hawkins returned shortly afterwards, but his second visit
was not as conducive as the first because of his gangster approach to doing
business. His crew was attacked as soon as his ship anchored at Tagrin to
refill his water barrels. Sir Hawkins, the hawkish English pirate later clad in
official seaman uniform, continued to sail for a long time on the west coast
of Africa, raiding other slave ships like an insatiable sibling nabbing food
off the plates of others. Hawkins obtained a reputation among his peers
as a dishonest adventurer and an opportunist who would later become
a British Admiral to legitimize his piracy with royal crest. By Joe Alie’s
account, the dishonest conduct of traders like Hawkins, albeit in no other
commerce than the wholesale transactions in humans as commodity, com-
pelled Sierra Leonean coastal chiefs to demand hostages of some crew-
members as collateral against ungentlemanly and unfair conduct.4 Even
though the chiefs were usually drunk to the dregs on European liquor
received in exchange for slaves, they were not so deeply drowned in their
bottles as to forget the source of their indulgence. Hawkins’ hoodlum
and piratical conduct of “help thyself to they neighbor’s goods” was not
condoned even by those he considered primitive.
Hawkins was later accompanied on his privateering by Sir Francis
Drake, his cousin of similar character and repute. The two met their fateful
end around the same time in 1595 and 1596 respectively, en route to the
West Indies in the war of Queen Elizabeth I against Spain.5 Sir Drake died
of bloody stool on the coast of Portobelo, Panama, and Hawkins died off
the coast of Puerto Rico. The British monarchy continued to fund African
expeditions and to collaborate with slave merchants. The lucrativeness of
trade in humans and the gradual withdrawal of Portuguese traders from
the west coast of Africa encouraged the British to impose control over the
4 J. KAIFALA

transatlantic trade. In 1660, the British Monarchy granted a charter to a

group of adventurers operating under the business name, Company of
Royal Adventurers Trading to Africa.6 The company was mostly misman-
aged in its first year of operation, but was successfully reformed in 1663
and granted monopoly over the slave trade to the irritation of other mer-
chants who wanted their quid in the newly found profits in human beings.
The Company of Adventurers eventually metamorphosed into the Royal
African Company (RAC).
The RAC, successor to the Company of Adventurers, a business ven-
ture between the British Monarchy and private merchants, was founded
in 1672 with a monopoly over the slave trade. Its charter, issued by King
Charles II, guaranteed that “[o]ur will and pleasure is, and wee doe hereby
declare the true intent and meaning of these presents to bee, that this our
present grant and demise of ye regions countrys, dominions, territorys,
continents, islands coasts, and places aforesaid. And all the benefit, com-
modity, profit, and advantage made, and to bee made and gotten out
of ye same, or by reason of the terme aforesaid shall bee, and shall bee
interpreted to bee, in trust, and for ye sole use, benefit, and behoofe of
the Royal African Company of England.”7 Between 1680 and 1686, the
RAC is recorded to have transported an estimated average of 5000 slaves
a year and sponsored around 249 voyages to Africa.8 The Lion Mountains
became one of the RAC’s ports of operation, and the name Serra Lyoa
underwent a series of transmutations from Serra Lion and eventually
arrived at the much refined English version that is Sierra Leone.
The British eagerly exercised their royal monopoly against other
European traders on the west coast of Africa. In Sierra Leone, they
built forts and prohibited other traders from entering their territories or
conducting business with their local allies. Places such as Bunce Island,
Sherbro Island, and Tasso on the coast of Sierra Leone became recognized
British forts manned by the RAC for the exclusive use of British mer-
chants. However, the British were naive to believe that other Europeans
would simply submit to the authority of their royal monopoly on foreign
territory far away from their homelands of Europe. In 1664, a conflict
ensued between Dutch and British merchants at the RAC fort on Tasso
Island. A Dutch officer, Admiral de Ruyter, responded by brutally attack-
ing Fort Tasso, and as a symbol of his victorious military campaign, de
Ruyter carved his name on a rock and buried it at the location of pres-
ent day King Jimmy wharf on the coast of Freetown.9 Similar retaliatory
attacks were waged against more RAC forts in other locations on the
 DISCOVERY OF SIERRA LEONE 5

coast of Sierra Leone. In 1728 Portuguese traders ransacked and captured

Bunce Island, a profitable slave post about 20 miles from Freetown.
A series of geographical misfortunes and attacks from rival merchants
forced the RAC to gradually pack its bundles and withdraw from Sierra
Leone. The departure of RAC agents liberalized trade on the west coast of
Africa and allowed other agents of European monarchs and privateers to
work together, forming alliances with coastal chiefs for the advancement
of trade in persons. The Dutch, Portuguese, and Danes returned, and by
1750 the RAC fort on Bunce Island was occupied by a London corpora-
tion, Grant, Sargent and Oswald.10 The Oswald Corporation transformed
the fort into a lucrative commercial port for large slave ships that anchored
to collect human cargo for the plantations of South Carolina and Georgia
where business was booming both for plantation owners and slavers who
supplied the needed human labor. Richard Oswald, the London propri-
etor of Bunce Island, who also owned shares in ships and plantations in
Jamaica, South Carolina, and Florida, formed a cordial commercial rela-
tionship with Henry Laurens, a wealthy rice planter and slave dealer based
in South Carolina who received slaves from Oswald’s ships and sold them
to planters in Charleston and Savannah. Laurens was “an owlish-looking,
hard-working man, short and stocky, who prided himself on sleeping no
more than four hours a night, and rose well before dawn to do his business
correspondence by candlelight…owner of some three hundred slaves, he
was at one point the biggest slave merchant in the thirteen colonies.”11 His
partner, Oswald, was described as an astute entrepreneur who was admired
as “a wise, thoughtful man who embodied the Scottish virtues of frugality,
sobriety, and hard work…”12 Though he never stepped into Africa, Oswald
nonetheless reaped some of the greatest benefits from the slave trade.
In the 1750s and 1760s, Oswald and Laurens established one of the
most successful commercial relationships for the supply of slaves and other
goods, including camwood and ivory, from Africa. These goods came
mainly from Bunce Island and other West African slave trading posts col-
lectively known in South Carolina as the Rice Coast, because captives from
the region were strong and most adept at tending rice fields. Demands
for Rice Coast slaves produced an expansion of the trade, and fleets of
ships sailed not only from South Carolina but also from Rhode Island,
Connecticut, Massachusetts, New York, and the company’s home ports
of London, Liverpool, and Bristol. Each ship returned with between 250
and 300 slaves per voyage. At the height of its success, Bunce Island was
a viable commercial fort with amenities such as a golf course, shipyard,
6 J. KAIFALA

and European houses. According to Adam Hochschild, Bunce Island’s

“protected position and abundant fresh water supply made it one of West
Africa’s most active trading posts, selling slaves and supplies to European
and American captains and performing repairs in its small shipyard.”13
One of the prominent traders to frequent the island was John Newton,
before he met his Amazing Grace and deliverance from wretched slaver to
ordained minister. During one of his visits on March 27, 1753, “he traded
his long-boat for four tons of rice from the Island’s warehouse. Then he
left his vessel, the African, at the shipyard to have sixty barrels of water
stowed onboard and the mollusks scraped off its hull.”14 Amazing Grace,
the hymn Newton wrote about his transformation from slave ship captain
to cleric, is a universal hymn of Human Rights defenders around the world.
In order to obtain a full inventory, most ships anchored for several
weeks to receive slaves gathered from inland and delivered on smaller
boats. Among the human cargoes taken from Bunce Island were men,
women, and children, including ten-year-old Priscilla whose slender
shoulders would have been violently snatched in 1756 by an impatient
slaver and thrown aboard the Hare under Captain Caleb Godfrey as bonus
cargo. Although she was not strong enough to lend much to the planta-
tion life that awaited her, she was an investment that could yield long-term
benefits. Like many others who passed through Bunce, she must have
arrived on one of the smaller boats or local canoes and thrown into the
confines of the fort through the gate for women and children, where her
slender body would have rubbed against adults in congested spaces lubri-
cated by sweat, blood, shit, puke, and piss, until larger vessels anchored
to take them through the journey of the Middle Passage toward slavery
in the Americas or West Indies. Missing home or hungry after her meager
ration was digested, she would have cried and elicited additional slaps from
angry mates who would rather not have heard her tiny Temne or Mende
voice. When the auctions were done in South Carolina, the ships some-
times went through London where they delivered rice from the American
South and other goods from Sierra Leone. Ships from the West Indies also
arrived from their return journey with sugar, tobacco, or coffee. The same
ships were then loaded with needed materials such as weapons, rum, more
crewmembers, gifts for local middlemen, and other materials necessary for
slave trading in West Africa.
As profits accumulated, so did the affluence and influence of Laurens
and Oswald. Laurens was entitled to a moderate but cumulatively hefty
10 percent commission on all of Oswald’s ships that docked in Charleston
 DISCOVERY OF SIERRA LEONE 7

under his care. Laurens acquired so much clout that during the American
Revolution he was elected president of the Continental Congress. He was
later appointed envoy to Holland but was taken prisoner in September
1780 by Captain George Keppel on HMS Vestal and imprisoned for
approximately 15 months in the Tower of London, acquiring the infa-
mous epithet of being the only American to bunker there until he was
granted bail in anticipation of a prisoner exchange for Lord Cornwallis.
In all likelihood, it was his loyal business partner Oswald who expe-
dited his release and recommended his appointment as one of the Peace
Commissioners to negotiate America’s freedom from the British Empire
under the Treaty of Paris. Oswald was chief negotiator on the British side,
so it was only natural that he would have preferred at least one familiar face
from the former colony in the person of Laurens. He arrived late during
negotiations to join his comrades, Benjamin Franklin, John Jay, and John
Adams, but he has been suspected for a curious addendum to Article VII
of the treaty, which states that the British shall withdraw “without causing
any destruction, or carrying away any negroes or other property of the
American inhabitants…” The slave dealer cum diplomat was, much to the
delight of Oswald, protecting whatever remained of their mutual interests
in the human trade back in America. The American Revolutionary War
cost Southern slavers many of their slaves who eagerly joined the British
on a promise of freedom at the end of the war, and Laurens added the
clause to prevent any further takings by the defeated former colonial mas-
ter. However, without the demands of plantation owners for cheap slave
labor, the Oswald conglomerate on Bunce Island was bound to go under.
Subsequently, the presence of European traders in Sierra Leone dwin-
dled as demands for new slaves dissipated, but the overwhelming pres-
ence of Europeans on the coast of Sierra Leone could still be seen by the
multitude of single mothers and young mulatto children they left behind.
The Danes left the grave of a Danish captain who died on Bunce Island
in 1783 to engrave their Viking presence. The Portuguese were the first
visitors, and as a result a short form of their nationality Porto became a
Temne word for Caucasian. The British departed to return at a later date
on a mission bearing the insignia of liberty, Christianity, colonization, and
commerce in nonhuman merchandize. The slave trade continued, and
alliances between African and European privateers in the trade ignited
wars and kidnappings in Sierra Leone. Coastal chiefs were rewarded with
rum, guns, European clothing, and protection against rivals, in return
for slaves. To live up to constant demands from their trading partners,
8 J. KAIFALA

chiefs waged wars against each other and sold their captives to Europeans.
In addition to human commodities, Europeans took precious metals and
timber. Other goods such as cowhides, beeswax, and West African spices
were also exchanged. By 1784, Bunce was under the management of John
& Alexander Anderson, Oswald’s nephews, who held the island until the
abolition of the slave trade. The Danes were some of the most prevalent
slave merchants in Sierra Leone at this time and approximately 2000 slaves
a year were taken from Bunce.15

NOTES
1. Anna Maria Falconbridge, Narrative of Two Voyages to the River Sierra
Leone During the Years 1791-2-3 (London, 1794), 18–19.
2. Prince Hoare, Memoirs of Granville Sharp, Esq. Composed from His Own
Manuscripts and Other Authentic Documents in the Possession of His Family
and of the African Institution (London, 1820), 283.
3. Joe A.D. Alie, A New History of Sierra Leone (London: Macmillan, 1990),
33.
4. Ibid., 35.
5. “Francis Drake Biography,” Biography.com, accessed February 17, 2015,
http://www.biography.com/people/francis-drake-9278809.
6. “Royal African Company Established,” Public Broadcasting Service, accessed
February 17, 2015, http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part1/1p269.
html.
7. “The King Grants the Right to Trade in Africa,” The UK National Archives,
accessed February 17, 2015, http://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/path-
ways/blackhistory/africa_caribbean/transcripts/charter_rac.htm.
8. “The Terrible Transformation: Royal African Company Established,”
Public Broadcasting Service, accessed February 17, 2015, http://www.
pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part1/1p269.html.
9. Joe A.D. Alie, A New History of Sierra Leone (London: Macmillan, 1990),
34–35.
10. Ibid., 36.
11. Adam Hochschild, Bury the Chains: Prophets and Rebels in the Fight to Free
an Empire’s Slaves (New York: Houghton Mifflin Co., 2005), 100.
12. Ibid., 24.
13. Ibid.
14. Ibid.
15. Joseph A. Opala, The Gullah: Rice, Slavery, and the Sierra Leone-American
Connection (Connecticut: Yale Gilder Lehrman Center, 2004), accessed
October 11, 2016, http://glc.yale.edu/sites/default/files/files/bance%
20Island%20in%20Sierra%20leone.pdf.
 CHAPTER 2

The Ethnic Makeover

While John Hawkins and his European brethren were engaged in adven-
tures around Tagrin, Bunce, and Sherbro Island, the interior of Sierra
Leone was steeping with new ethnic groups and ethno-political organiza-
tions vying for superiority and territory. As many as 15 of Sierra Leone’s
17 ethnic groups were busy shuffling themselves in the country. The 16th
and 17th groups, Krio and Kru, did not arrive until later in the eighteenth
century. These ethnic groups are classified into three linguistic categories:
Mande, Mel, and other.1 The Mende, Soso, Vai/Gallinas, Loko, Kono,
Koranko, Mandingo, and Yalunka are part of the Mande ethno-linguistic
group. The Mel cluster includes the Temne, Bullom/Sherbro, Gola, Kissi,
and Krim. The Krio, Fula, Kru, and Limba belong to the remaining group,
dubbed “other.” The arrival of Mane warriors from the Mali Empire to
the coast of Sierra Leone and slave raids organized by coastal chiefs against
other territories to maintain the supply of slaves to their European part-
ners dislodged some of these ethnic groups. The raids disrupted settle-
ments and forced some ethnic groups to relocate or split into subgroups,
especially those such as the Temne and Bullom, who were closer to the
coast. These coastal ethnic groups, collectively known as Sapes, did not
engage in war with each other before the Mane arrived.
The Mende, who are direct descendants of Mane warriors, arrived in
Sierra Leone through neighboring Liberia in the middle of the sixteenth
century. The origin of the Mane can be traced to the Mali Empire, but

© The Author(s) 2017 9

J. Kaifala, Free Slaves, Freetown, and the Sierra Leonean
Civil War, African Histories and Modernities,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-349-94854-3_2
10 J. KAIFALA

unfortunately not much evidence is available to pinpoint their exact settle-

ment before they arrived on the west coast of Africa. Their leader, the
belligerent and no-nonsense Queen Masarico allegedly defied the emperor
and was permanently expelled from the empire. Masarico mobilized a large
group of loyal followers and began her trek away from the empire, advanc-
ing southwards. Her marauding warriors raided villages and took captives
on their way south, increasing their number and improving their mili-
tary strength. As Masarico’s army grew, so did the need for food, hence
the scorched earth pillaging of villages and towns along its way, taking
resources it needed. For every village they marched through, the Mane left
a trademark of blood, plunder, and conscription that indicated to whom-
ever visited afterwards that Masarico was there, even long after she was
gone. When the Mane detected that a town had formidable defense, they
attempted to avert war by sending an emissary bearing an ultimatum in
the form of a white cloth and a weapon, signifying a choice between peace
and war. Those who preferred war did not only choose slaughter, they
often became supper for the sumba, a spartan and cannibalistic squad
among the Mane.
The Mane reached West Africa in the 1540s and changed the course of
their trek westwards toward the Grand Cape Mount county area of Liberia
on the southeastern border of Sierra Leone. They engaged in battles with
the Bullom who were the original settlers of the regions the Mane occu-
pied. The Mane were a marauding army who did as they pleased with
those they encountered along their way, but like many tales involving per-
sistent bullies, the underdog sometimes delivers a detrimental counter-
punch. Queen Masarico’s son, a valiant commander, was killed when he
fell into a Bullom ambush—a severe and personal blow to a previously
unflinching warrior queen. Masarico died shortly afterwards from old age
and grief over losing her son. When the queen died, some of her leading
warriors established their own small communities, and their presence had
great influence on many coastal settlers and languages. For instance, the
Mane viceroy Sherabola conquered the southern Bullom and his influence
produced a reformed Bullom known as Sherbro.
The most significant influence of the Mane was the emergence of
Mende as the largest ethnic group in Sierra Leone. The Mende are divided
into three subgroups of Kpaa, a different or difficult version of Mende;
Ko, which describes those who live in the upper part of Mende territory,
and Sewa Mende or those who find themselves along the Sewa river in
the south. The Sewa Mende considered themselves the purest of all other
 THE ETHNIC MAKEOVER 11

dialects of Mende. However, the Kpaa Mende, who possessed a well-

organized political system and a highly disciplined military, were indisput-
ably the most illustrious of the Mende. The Kpaa Mende established an
independent state in southern Sierra Leone and made Taiama its capi-
tal. The military strength of the Kpaa Mende allowed them to guarantee
the security of surrounding towns in exchange for pledges of loyalty. The
Mende were generally ruled by warrior chiefs whose leadership achieve-
ments depended both on their personality and the loyalty of their subjects.
Principal Mende states were identified by the name of their warrior
chiefs. An example of a highly valorous Mende chief is Nyagua of Panguma,
who was later deported to the Gold Coast (Ghana) with the Temne chief
Bai Bureh and the Sherbro chief Kpana Lewis for their alleged roles in
the 1898 Hut Tax war against the British, although Nyagua’s district was
actually exempted from collecting the tax. Nyagua signed an armistice
with the British on May 25, 1889, which like other chiefs who entered
into such alliances guaranteed him a stipend of £10 per annum. In 1893,
he contributed a regiment to British forces fighting Samori Touré. His
son Gbanyeh attended the Sierra Leone Grammar School in Freetown
on British coffers. Nyagua also captured and surrendered a notorious and
most wanted rebel named Makaya to the British. Despite these efforts, a
District Commissioner accused Nyagua of organizing clandestine meet-
ings with other chiefs and stocking ammunition in preparation for war.2
The warrior chief died in Ghana in 1906 without ever seeing his beloved
Panguma again. The Mende regarded their chief either as primus inter
pares, a leader among equals, or as a member of their family. Some Mende
people in Sierra Leone still refer to their chief as Maada (grandfather)
even though the official title of a chief is Mahin.
According to Alie, a Mende chief was generally an individual who mani-
fested the greatest leadership skills; thus, there were no hard and fast crite-
ria for succession to the throne. However, leaders usually established their
own settlements or were elected by an Electoral College comprising of
sub-chiefs, elders, warriors, or other important personalities in the state.
The chief relied on his Lavai (spokesman) as a link between him and his
subjects. The Lavai received complaints and facts of disputes on behalf of
the chief and transmitted the chief’s messages to sub-chiefs and commu-
nity members. Though little detail exists of Queen Masarico’s conquest
of parts of Sierra Leone or her origin, the Mende retained a tradition of
matrilineal chieftaincy, which is another tangible proof of her influential
leadership.
12 J. KAIFALA

For sociopolitical administration and the education of their youths, the

Mende, like other ethnic group, relied on two secret societies: the poro for
boys and the bondo or sande for girls. These secret societies functioned as
institutions of learning for pubescent children. Boys who joined the poro
were expected to graduate with skills including proficiency in herbal medi-
cine, local government, and warfare. As future breadwinners, young men
were taught to provide for their families through farming and hunting.
They acquired skills in medicine by learning the medicinal contents of vari-
ous plants and animal parts. They were also trained in traditional etiquettes
such as decorum at political meetings and respect for elders. Another aspect
of the poro was military training. However, the most important ritual of
the poro is the circumcision of boys as a rite of passage from boyhood to
manhood. Those who complete the process among the Mende still receive
traditional cicatrices on their backs to distinguish the uninitiated.
The bondo society involved similar training and rituals. Girls entered at
puberty to receive courses in midwifery, childcare, sexual intercourse, and
the role of women in polygamous households. The girls were also taught
other arts and crafts such as cooking, laundry, singing, and dancing. Music
and dance remain fundamental to a successful bondo. Some towns hire spe-
cial music and dance instructors known in Mende as sowe (headwoman)
to teach initiates. Mariatu Kamara, a victim of the Sierra Leonean civil war
who was initiated at a young age, offers a contemporary sense of some
bondo practices, albeit among the Temne: “the women from the village
taught us homemaking, including cooking and sewing. We learned how
to cook meals that would cure certain ailments, and how to use herbs to
treat coughs and fevers. At the end of our time there, we returned to the
village for a great feast, during which all of us danced.”3 But in spite of
the wonderful education and training in domesticity and community life,
the bondo society is incomplete without the much criticized circumcision.
According to Kamara, “[t]here was only one part of the Bondo that I
disliked, and it happened on our first night in the bush… I was told to
lie down on the floor on a piece of cloth…My skirt was lifted high over
my waist… I felt the digba [headwoman] cut my vagina”4 This aspect of
bondo, known globally as Female Genital Mutilation (FGM), is one that
has generated serious international outrage and condemnation.
Though the duration of these societies have been reduced consider-
ably to suit contemporary societal demands, in their original time period,
they could last for months or sometimes even a year. Enough time was
considered necessary for the scars of circumcision to heal so that initiates
 THE ETHNIC MAKEOVER 13

could reemerge in society without visible signs of vulnerability. For then,

they had become legitimate heirs to the future of their community. No
society wanted to see its future warriors and mothers limping from wounds
of the very rite of passage that should have transformed them into unblem-
ished candidates responsible for the preservation of the community. This
is why those who succumbed to the complications of circumcision were
declared to have answered the call of the gods. They were deemed unable
to become warriors or mothers on earth so instead they entered the super-
natural world to watch over the living. Sierra Leone’s first prime minister,
Sir Milton Margai, would later approve training for the headwomen of
female secret societies in midwifery in order to compensate for the limited
number of medical doctors and nurses in rural areas.
These secret societies “created a sense of comradeship and unity among
members irrespective of family, clan or ethnic affiliation.”5 Like most insti-
tutions engaged in the preparation of young people for adult life, boys and
girls graduate as a group and forever identify themselves as members of the
same initiation class, sometimes distinguished by the name of the presid-
ing circumciser. In the bondo, the sowe remains the main identifier and she
serves as godmother to the girls after graduation. When giving birth, bondo
graduates trust their sowe more than any other midwife, and a sowe is some-
times called upon to intervene where a marital problem centers on the wife’s
inappropriate behavior, an infraction of her bondo rites. Graduation from a
secret society gave initiates cultural rights to every fundamental aspect of
community life. For instance, they were at the forefront of the crowning
or burial of a royalty, while non-initiates were strictly forbidden from such
rituals. Sometimes non-initiates were forced to remain behind closed doors
until ceremonies such as the burial of a royalty or coronation was com-
pleted. When a war meeting was called, only the hinga (men who graduated
from the poro) were allowed to attend. The idea of hinga or kugbe (warrior),
which is culturally appurtenant to the poro society, was appropriated during
the Sierra Leonean civil war for the creation of the kamajor (hunter) civil
defense force—a militia whose purpose unfortunately was no longer the
killing of wild beasts, but the slaughter of other human beings, in defense of
villages and towns against rebels or renegade members of the national army.
Ultimately, the role of these societies was to ensure the moral, cultural,
economic, and sociopolitical survival of society. The older generation
had an obligation to make sure that the next generation was prepared in
the ways of their people. Such harmonious transitions were necessary to
guarantee that societies endured and entered the future without anarchy.
14 J. KAIFALA

The behavior and modus operandi of the older generation were to guide
the younger generation into the future. Like many societal organizations,
membership to these societies was crucial and those who failed to join
were often ostracized or kidnapped and initiated. Most adolescents were
enlisted for initiation by their parents because the process required a large
economic investment. Parents were required to feed initiates and provide
tokens for elders who presided at the initiation of their children. Some
families offered food accumulated from years of harvest. Those who could
not afford the cost of initiation were forced to take loans from their neigh-
bors after their child had been kidnapped by a society. These societies were
unarguably highly organized sociopolitical entities for the advancement
and enforcement of cultural rites.
Initiates also received instructions on cultural taboos and prohibitions
from secret societies. There were many expectations and restrictions on
the lives of members of society and failure to abide by them led to a hefty
fine, death, or banishment. For example, polygamy was accepted among
all the ethnic groups and therefore sleeping with another man’s wife was
a serious offense. The extent of a man’s wealth was determinable by the
number of wives he married because bride price, which was payable in
cattle, property, or other goods, was never cheap. When a married man
died, his male relatives inherited his wives, and women who (seldom)
rejected this arrangement were required to return their bride prices to
their husband’s relatives before accepting other suitors. Incest, or what
the Mende call simongama, including marriages within the same clan, was
forbidden. Siblings of different sexes could not sit on one another’s bed.
It was both a moral and ethical violation to have sexual intercourse with a
girl who had not reached puberty, a pregnant woman who was not one’s
wife, or a nursing mother. Sex in any forest was deemed inappropriate and
a man was forbidden from shaking hands with the mother of a woman
with whom he was sleeping—this certainly helped expose those who were
engaged in secret hanky-panky. There were many more taboos, with slight
variations among different groups, and the secret societies strictly enforced
them. Some secret societies still act as significant cultural and political
institutions among those who practice them, excluding FGM, which has
become controversial and no longer deemed necessary.
The Loko, also descendants of Mane warriors, are closest to the Mende in
terms of origin and culture. A few Mane viceroys defected from Masarico’s
force upon arrival on the west coast of Africa and pursued their own ter-
ritorial agenda on mainland Sierra Leone. The Loko are descendants of a
 THE ETHNIC MAKEOVER 15

breakaway group of expeditionary warriors dispatched against a Mane vice-

roy who went AWOL. The expeditionary warriors never returned because
they encountered the Temne who provoked them into a protracted war
that deterred them from returning to their coastal base. They established
a settlement north of Freetown around the territory of Port Loko district.
The Loko are close cultural and linguistic siblings of the Mende and Gbandi
of Liberia, but their settlement among the Temne transformed them sig-
nificantly. The Loko and Mende are cognizant of their common heritage
and refer to each other using the mutually flirtatious but egotistically objec-
tionable term, Njagbe (nephew)6—who would want to be relegated to the
status of mere offspring of a Mane affair with the other’s parent. The Loko,
like the Mende, were led by illustrious warriors and also engaged in secret
societies similar to those of the Mende and Temne. Since the Loko, who
continue to live among the Mende, prefer to speak the language of their
host and those who live among the Temne mostly communicate in Temne,
their population is declining at an accelerating rate, currently representing
only about two percent of the national population.
The Temne are the second largest ethnic group following the Mende.
They were also influenced by conquering Mane forces. The Temne are
among the oldest inhabitants of Sierra Leone, arriving as traders from
the Futa Jallon region of Guinea before the fifteenth century. They estab-
lished a commercial center on the northwest coast where they conducted
business between Sierra Leone and Futa Jallon. A coastal people at the
time, the Temne were among the first group conquered by the Mane
in the 1550s. The Temne are divided into two main categories without
significant distinction in language or culture. These groupings include the
Sanda and Yoni Temne—the former lived in the north while the latter
lived south toward the center of the country. Temne sociopolitical orga-
nizations were patrilineal, and the people were divided into approximately
25 ebona (clan). Each clan identified with a warrior or a royal ancestor.
Smaller subgroups of the Temne were kholifa and Kunike Temne. The
social prestige of the clans emanated from the bonds they created among
those belonging to them.7 Temne political organizations were similar to
those of the Mende, with the obai as chief. The chief was assisted in his
duties by his wife and various ministers known as kapr. For good leader-
ship, Temne chiefs were required to undergo a sacred ceremony known as
kantha to sanctify them against iniquities and protect them from tempta-
tions of bad governance. The chief could not abdicate, and it was forbid-
den to depose a chief who had already undergone kantha rites because of
Another random document with
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brûlées, aux mains noires, inquiète et respectueuse dans ses
vêtements du dimanche, il fallait que les quatre pièces d’argenterie
que nous possédions fussent bien en évidence au milieu de la table.
Moi-même, si je traversais la pièce, je devais retirer le petit tablier
gris qu’il m’obligeait de porter sur mes vieilles robes : elles étaient,
dans la maison, le seul négligé qu’il tolérât.
— Mais, lui disais-je, que veux-tu que tout cela fasse à ces
pauvres gens ?
— Cela fait, riposta-t-il, qu’ils me croient riche et me permet de
les faire payer davantage.
Vainement je m’appliquai à découvrir chez lui la noblesse de
quelque bel emportement enthousiaste et généreux. Il n’éprouvait
rien que de médiocre et d’étroitement réfléchi. Son honnêteté même
était de cette qualité craintive et intéressée qui la rend insupportable.
Et vainement je voulais forcer mon amour de s’attacher à lui : il n’y
trouvait rien qui ne le repoussât. Alors les heures commencèrent
souvent de me sembler trop longues, et plus souvent, les voyant
aussi régulièrement se lever, tourner et disparaître, je suffoquais à
leur passage comme au passage du grand vent.
Fabien m’avait introduite dans une société supérieure à celle
que, par maman, j’avais pu connaître ; mais on se visite peu à
Lagarde, et les gens y sont de mince intérêt. Je passais donc mes
journées dans ma maison, occupée à des rangements d’armoires ou
des travaux de couture, mais une mélancolie sourde et continue,
une amertume découragée, se mêlaient à tous mes actes et
m’enlevaient jusqu’au goût des petites satisfactions que je pouvais
avoir. Or je savais depuis l’enfance que ma vie serait humble et toute
occupée par de simples besognes ; le bonheur que je tenais était,
dans sa forme, bien supérieur à toutes les ambitions que l’on m’avait
permis d’avoir ; et mon mal ne venait pas de l’ennui ou du besoin
des plaisirs.
Les journées d’hiver n’avaient point de gaîté, mais plus
mélancoliques encore étaient les longs jours du printemps. Alors
j’ouvrais ma fenêtre. L’odeur de la campagne et les bruits de la rue
se mêlant autour de moi m’apportaient leur apaisement. Un petit
enfant riait. Une carriole sautait sur les pavés aigus. Des femmes,
vers le soir, allaient à la fontaine ; j’entendais le grincement de la
pompe, le ruissellement de l’eau dans les cruches de grès ; mais je
sentais de nouveau toute mon inquiétude, quand je voyais sur le
mur, en face de moi, l’ombre monter peu à peu, comme un chat
sournois qui s’étire et qui glisse, car je redoutais maintenant les
retours de Fabien et les récits qu’il m’allait faire de sa journée, et tout
ce que, durant l’interminable soirée, il remuerait devant moi de petits
projets, de petites rancunes et de petites idées…

*
* *

Cependant, maman, chaque matin, quand j’allais la voir, aussi

pénétrée que le premier jour quand elle m’avait fait l’annonce
merveilleuse de mon mariage, ne cessait pas de me répéter :
— Tu es heureuse.
Et sa conviction était si profonde qu’il me fallait bien répéter avec
elle :
— Je suis heureuse.
Mais sa fragile santé ne cessait de s’affaiblir et elle prit mal sur la
terrasse un jour de grand vent. La fièvre en quelques heures devint
très forte et je vis bien qu’elle allait mourir. Vainement, désespérée,
je suppliai Fabien d’appeler en consultation, sinon l’un de ses
confrères de Lagarde, du moins quelque docteur de Valence ou de
Lyon. Il me déclara que le cas de la malade étant grave peut-être,
mais fort simple, il n’avait point à supporter cette humiliation ; et
maman elle-même me désapprouvait, répétant de sa voix sans force
que les soins de son gendre étaient les meilleurs de tous et qu’elle
n’en voulait point d’autres. Il me fallut donc laisser ainsi se défaire
cette chère vie… Ce fut au petit jour, après une nuit plus tranquille.
Guicharde et moi étions seules auprès d’elle. Elle se tourna
brusquement dans son lit et nous regarda. Ma sœur, à genoux près
du feu, tournait une potion qu’il fallait prendre chaude et dans de la
tisane ; mais je me précipitai vers ces yeux où l’âme se levait pour la
dernière fois.
— Maman !
Elle voulut sourire.
— Garde… dit-elle très bas… garde bien ton bonheur.
Et ce fut fini dans le temps que Guicharde mit à faire dix pas pour
venir à côté de moi tomber en pleurant sur ce lit.
Ah ! chère morte, comme vous deviez nous rester présente, et
comme, dès ce moment, et aujourd’hui encore, nous devions sentir
que vous étiez toujours là, chaude et gonflée de sang au fond de
notre cœur ! — Dans notre désespoir nous ne cessions, Guicharde
et moi, de parler d’elle. Chacune de nous s’épuisait à rechercher ce
que l’autre conservait de souvenirs et d’images. Nous les mêlions en
sanglotant ; quelquefois aussi avec d’attendris et désolés sourires.
Et nous ne pouvions plus nous séparer. Alors Fabien proposa que
Guicharde vînt habiter avec nous. Je fus bien touchée qu’il eût ainsi
compris notre secret désir. Mais après qu’il eut accepté mes
remerciements, il acheva d’expliquer sa pensée.
— Cela me permettra, dit-il, de louer la maison de votre mère. Le
rapport en sera petit, mais rien n’est à dédaigner. Ensuite, il sera
d’un bon effet que nous n’abandonnions pas ta sœur à sa solitude.
Mme Périsse m’a posé hier à ce sujet plusieurs questions qui m’ont
bien montré l’opinion générale et clairement indiqué ce qu’il est
convenable de faire. Enfin Adélaïde la suivra sûrement. Cette fille
est honnête ; elle se contente de petits gages et cela nous permettra
de réaliser sur le service une intéressante économie.

*
* *

La présence de Guicharde ne devait pas seulement me soutenir

dans mon désespoir. Elle me fut bonne aussi dans cette autre peine
qui commençait de ne plus me quitter. Un peu vieillie, plus maigre
avec des yeux plus beaux, toujours autoritaire, exaltée, douloureuse,
elle me réconfortait par cette admiration passionnée, cette envie
généreuse et enchantée que ne cessait pas de lui inspirer mon
bonheur. Elle trouvait ma maison vaste, mes meubles beaux, mes
ressources abondantes ; elle trouvait surtout, — et c’est par là
qu’elle m’était secourable, — Fabien plein de sagesse, tendre autant
qu’on le peut souhaiter et fort remarquable dans ses moindres
paroles ; car, satisfaite des apparences, elle ne s’inquiétait jamais
d’aller derrière elles chercher ce fond de l’âme qui est la suprême et
seule réalité. Elle me dépeignait donc mon mari tel qu’elle savait le
voir à travers les tourments de sa solitude et dans la sagesse ou la
simplicité de son esprit ; je l’écoutais docilement et, ne cessant de
me répéter qu’elle avait raison, il m’arrivait d’en être persuadée.
Alors je goûtais un grand contentement à reconnaître que de ma
sottise seulement, de mon ignorance et des maladresses de mon
pauvre jugement venaient toutes les raisons de ma peine, et
ranimant ainsi ce misérable amour qui m’était nécessaire, je
parvenais quelquefois encore à en tirer un peu de joie.

*
* *

Il y avait deux ans que maman était morte quand la vieille Mme
Landargues mourut à son tour. Fabien, assez souvent, l’avait revue,
mais il n’osait plus m’en parler ; il apprit la nouvelle sur la route, un
jour, en rentrant de ses visites, et, me l’apportant aussitôt, feignit de
ne vouloir me la dire qu’avec ménagement. Quand il vint enfin au
bout de ses phrases prudentes et déjà consolatrices, je le regardai
tout étonnée :
— Eh bien ! dis-je, elle est morte. D’autres, qui sont meilleures,
vivent moins longtemps. Croyais-tu que j’allais me mettre à pleurer ?
Il riposta :
— Quelques larmes seraient décentes : c’était la mère de ton
père.
 Marchant à travers la chambre, soucieux et la tête basse, il
s’interrogeait gravement.
— Je me demande s’il convient que tu paraisses aux obsèques.
Elles vont être fort belles.
— Aux obsèques de cette femme !…
— Mon Dieu, dit Fabien, que tu es donc ridicule avec tes
surprises et tes exclamations ! Tu es de son sang, n’est-ce pas ? Et
puisque la voici morte, elle ne peut plus s’opposer à ce que tu le
proclames un peu plus haut que tu n’as pu le faire jusqu’à présent.
Cela ne nuirait ni à toi, ni à moi.
Il comprit cependant que je ne céderais pas, et il en fut
mécontent ; mais cette mort faisait se lever en lui trop de pensées
importantes et agitées pour qu’il s’acharnât sur une seule.
— Soit, condescendit-il, j’assisterai seul à la cérémonie, mais tu
dois bien te rendre compte que cette mort forcément changera
certaines choses… Je ne parle pas de la fortune. Ton père s’est
arrangé assez sottement pour qu’il n’y ait rien à attendre ; je le
savais en t’épousant et je ne te reproche rien… Mais il faut profiter
de cette circonstance pour bien montrer à tout le monde que la
famille Landargues est notre famille, et tu vas me faire le plaisir de
préparer ton deuil.
— Mon deuil !
Je m’indignai cette fois jusqu’à la révolte.
— Je ne veux pas… je ne veux pas… Elle nous détestait tous, et
je la détestais…
— Oh ! pour cela, dit Fabien venant sur moi et me fixant avec
dureté, je tiendrai bon, et d’autant plus que cela ne coûtera pas un
sou, puisque tu as encore les robes noires que tu portais pour ta
mère.
… Ce n’était pas le premier feu de l’année qui brûlait aujourd’hui
dans la cheminée, mais le dernier sans doute, car le temps était
doux ; déjà, le matin, par la fenêtre du grenier, j’avais pris à notre
acacia quelques fleurs odorantes. Et, considérant ces flammes
inutiles, je dis à Fabien, désespérément, comme je le lui avais dit un
autre soir :
— Tu ne comprends donc pas !
— Qu’il est irritant, cria-t-il, de s’entendre toujours répéter :
« Comprends donc ! » par une femme qui ne sait jamais rien
comprendre !

Il insista de telle sorte, il m’ordonna enfin avec tant de violence

d’aller prendre dans l’armoire une de mes robes noires et d’examiner
immédiatement quelles réparations pouvaient y être nécessaires,
qu’il me fallut bien me soumettre. Et je sus que, dans les jours
suivants, il disait à tout le monde en parlant de moi :
— Elle a été très affectée par la mort de sa grand’mère, Mme
Landargues.

*
* *

L’étoffe de ma robe était déjà vieille, elle commençait de rougir

sous le grand soleil ; cela humiliait Fabien quand il sortait avec moi,
et, ne voulant pas faire la dépense de m’acheter une autre robe, qui
servirait peu, il me permit au bout de trois mois de quitter le deuil.
J’obéis une fois de plus, simplement et sans ajouter là-dessus
aucune parole. Mais les entretiens de Guicharde, l’indulgence
satisfaite de ses jugements ne pouvaient plus maintenant m’être
d’aucun secours tandis que, par les longues heures de l’été pesant,
assise auprès d’elle, je laissais trop souvent l’aiguille reposer entre
mes mains inactives. Toute craquelante de soleil, la maison, pour se
défendre, tenait ses volets clos sur les chambres obscures. La
sécheresse en cette fin d’août ravageait la terre. Dans les champs,
les grands millets à graine noire se desséchaient comme s’ils
eussent été touchés par la flamme. Les paysans étaient pris de
fièvres subites et quelquefois d’une folie qui les menait sur les
routes, hurlants et tournoyants, ou les abattait avec des plaintes
animales dans l’herbe roussie des fossés. Un air trop lourd, que ne
rafraîchissaient point les nuits éclatantes, ne cessait d’oppresser et
de brûler les poumons ; et le malaise du corps, se mêlant à celui de
l’âme, faisait les journées pleines d’angoisse.
C’est à ce moment que je retrouvai François Landargues un jour,
chez Mme Livron à qui j’étais allée rendre visite. Elle n’est point des
clientes de Fabien et se contente de lui recommander ses fermiers
ou quelques pauvres gens que soutient sa charité ; mais il se
satisfait de cela, en attendant mieux, et m’enjoint de témoigner à
cette vieille dame les plus grands égards.
La maison de Mme Livron, au bas de la côte, possède une
terrasse qui est célèbre dans tout le pays. Par-dessus les balustres
de pierre blanche et de briques, on voit le Rhône bleu courir et se
gonfler. La plaine est au delà avec ses saules gris, ses peupliers
souples, ses herbes pâles, et, quand un souffle de vent passe,
courbant dans un même élan la campagne tout entière, frissonnante
et couleur d’argent, elle semble courir avec le fleuve et se précipiter
dans la mer.
Mme Livron se tenait sur cette terrasse, dans l’ombre épaisse
que font six grands platanes mêlant leur branches et leurs feuilles,
avec deux dames amies venues d’Avignon pour la voir ; et François
Landargues était auprès d’elles. Depuis mon mariage, n’ayant guère
cessé de voyager pour ses plaisirs ou sa santé, il vivait loin de
Lagarde et je ne l’avais pas revu. Je ne l’avais pas revu depuis le
soir d’automne où, près d’un petit feu de feuilles mortes dont
tournoyait vers nous la piquante fumée, il m’avait dit : « A demain ! »
Et j’avais si bien cessé de penser à lui, après tant de joies vaines et
de vaines angoisses, que j’éprouvais seulement à le retrouver un
peu de surprise, de l’ennui peut-être, mais nulle autre chose.
Toujours élégant et gardant ce charme irritant qui ne me touchait
plus, il avait toutefois beaucoup vieilli. Ses cheveux commençaient
de blanchir ; il était plus maigre et plus las ; et chacun des os de son
visage formait, quand il parlait, une luisante et mouvante saillie sous
la peau sèche et mince. Ses yeux, plus larges, avaient pris une
espèce de fixité fiévreuse et dure. Sa bouche était plus blanche et
serrée, et le sourire d’autrefois, qui ne l’avait pas quittée, la tordait
aujourd’hui d’une espèce de grimace crispée et continue. A le
regarder mieux, il m’effraya presque et je lui trouvai l’air méchant.

M’ayant saluée, il me demanda cérémonieusement de mes

nouvelles et répondit à mes questions polies qu’il était extrêmement
malade ; mais il en avait assez des voyages et ne bougerait plus
désormais. A ce moment, Mme Livron s’étant levée pour emmener
ses amies jusqu’au bout de la terrasse, d’où la vue est plus belle, il
vint aussitôt s’asseoir auprès de moi. Et, désinvolte autant que si
notre séparation eût daté de la dernière semaine :
— Eh bien ! Alvère, me demanda-t-il, êtes-vous heureuse ?
— Très heureuse.
— Ah ! remarqua-t-il, vous vous êtes appliquée pour le dire, et
cela se voit. Vous ne saurez donc jamais bien dissimuler, ma pauvre
enfant. Cependant, vous aurez bientôt trente ans, si je ne me
trompe, et vous devriez avoir plus de finesse.
Son ton était bien celui d’autrefois, mais il dédaignait et blessait
davantage. Et il se fit plus blessant et dédaigneux encore pour
prononcer :
— Votre mari va bien ?
— Très bien.
— Content des affaires ? Je veux dire… enfin, oui, content ?
— Assez.
— La saison est excellente pour lui. Savez-vous que par cette
sécheresse les « launes » se vident, les poissons y meurent et
pourrissent dans la vase ? Il commence à venir de là des
émanations pestilentielles et l’on nous annonce, si ce temps
continue, les pires maladies. Voilà de quoi réjouir un médecin qui,
comme lui, sait bien entendre son métier.
 Ayant insolemment prononcé ce dernier mot, il se tut et
commença de me regarder. Mais il vit bien que désormais je
n’entendrais plus ce que disait ce regard. Alors, tout irrité, se
vengeant aussitôt, et riant d’un petit rire dur qui sautait dans sa
gorge :
— J’espère bien que vous avez oublié, — en oubliant tant
d’autres choses, — les réflexions que j’ai pu vous faire sur lui. Elles
étaient peu indulgentes, me semble-t-il, et je vous en demande
pardon… mais je ne pouvais pas prévoir…
Je me levai sans lui répondre et comme Mme Livron me conviait
à goûter, je m’approchai avec elle de la petite table où étaient servis,
avec du vin muscat et des galettes sèches, les premiers raisins.
François Landargues nous suivit, mais il refusa de rien prendre et se
retira presque aussitôt.

*
* *

Fabien, quand je revenais de mes visites à Mme Livron,

m’interrogeait avec minutie. Il me fallut donc bien lui dire que j’avais
rencontré François Landargues et il en parut fort satisfait.
— C’est un heureux hasard, déclara-t-il, très heureux… Romain
de Buires que j’ai vu l’autre jour m’avait bien dit qu’il devait revenir,
mais je ne pensais pas que ce fût aussi tôt, et je ne pensais pas
surtout que tu aurais la chance d’être là le jour même qu’il ferait sa
première visite à Mme Livron… Les choses s’arrangent au mieux.
Tirant sa chaise devant la table mise, il ajouta :
— J’avais d’ailleurs prévu tout cela depuis longtemps.
Pendant le repas, il réfléchit et parla peu. Ensuite, renversé dans
le fauteuil de paille à dossier dur où il se tenait chaque soir, il
continua de se taire. Guicharde, ayant un peu de migraine, dormait
déjà. Nous étions seuls. Par la fenêtre entrait cet air brûlant que rien
ne pouvait alléger, plus chargé chaque jour de toutes les odeurs
malsaines qu’il laissait stagner dans les ruelles étroites ; et, dans le
bleu nocturne du ciel, où éclatait la lune jaune, se continuait une
ardeur sans repos. Fabien souriait longuement aux fumées de sa
pipe. Enfin il déclara :
— Tout est bien simple maintenant. Tu vas t’arranger pour revoir
François, ce qui n’est pas bien difficile, et tu lui demanderas de venir
te rendre visite. Mme Landargues seule empêchait ce
rapprochement entre nos familles ; mais elle est morte et son
intransigeance avec elle. Rien ne s’oppose plus à ce que ton cousin
— le mien par conséquent, — fréquente chez nous désormais.
Dans son regard s’affirmait cette volonté bornée et tenace contre
quoi toutes mes révoltes étaient inutiles. Je dis simplement :
— Tu te rappelles qu’autrefois…
— Je sais, dit-il, avec quelque impatience, que tu plaisais à
François, ce qui est bien naturel, et que vous avez fait ensemble
quelques promenades. Mais vous avez été fort convenables et
prudents en somme, et je crois bien être la seule personne du pays
qui vous ait jamais rencontrés. Tout cela est loin maintenant et ces
petites amours ont peu d’importance. Elles s’oublient vite, mais elles
laissent généralement derrière elles une sympathie qu’il faut avoir
l’intelligence de savoir exploiter. Comprends bien que Fardier est
très vieux maintenant et au bout de sa course. Mandel intrigue déjà
pour le remplacer et non point seulement auprès des Landargues…
mais on tient par ceux-là toute la clientèle importante du pays… Eh
bien ! si nous savons être adroits, ce n’est pas Mandel qui
l’emportera, ce sera moi… Comprends cela aussi, et encore…
Il parlait… Je le laissai dire sans plus lui répondre. Mais lasse à
la fin et tout irritée :
— Bien… c’est entendu… n’insiste plus. Je demanderai à
François de venir ici… je le lui demanderai.
Et certes, je n’entendais point tenir cette promesse. Mais voici
que Fabien prit l’habitude chaque soir en rentrant de me chercher
par toute la maison avec une grande impatience. Et il me demandait
aussitôt :
— Quoi de nouveau ?… L’as-tu revu ?
 Alors, l’exaspération m’empêcha de plus réfléchir. Je ne cherchai
point à éviter François Landargues, et, le jour qu’il se retrouva
devant moi, je lui parlai comme il m’était ordonné de le faire. C’était
une fois de plus sur la place ronde et près de l’ormeau. Une cloche,
à petits coups engourdis et comme étouffés dans l’air chaud, sonnait
la fin de l’office du soir. Des vieilles sortaient de l’église, obscures et
chuchotantes, faisant lever la poussière à leurs glissantes semelles.
Et le son épais de cette cloche, celui de ces pas traînants, restent
mêlés pesamment à l’humiliation qui m’écrasa quand, m’ayant
entendue, François posa sur moi son impitoyable regard.
Les calculs de Fabien, son exigence, ma faible révolte, et mes
soumissions résignées, il pénétrait aussitôt tout cela ; il en tirait une
gaîté violente et cruelle. Et souhaitant qu’elle me fût évidente,
souriant de son méchant sourire, il prit bien soin de laisser d’abord le
silence se prolonger entre nous.
— Mais certainement, dit-il enfin, j’irai vous voir… c’est-à-dire…
Il désigna sa maison.
— J’irai, quand il vous plaira, vous rendre la visite que vous
deviez me faire… et que j’attends toujours.
Curieuses, nous épiant, les sombres vieilles rôdaient autour de
nous. L’une d’elles, plus hardie, surgit brusquement à nos côtés.
Sans doute elle avait pensé ainsi surprendre quelque chose de notre
entretien. Mais, s’excusant très humblement, elle dit à François
qu’elle voudrait bien lui recommander son fils, désireux de trouver un
emploi aux carrières… Il dut lui répondre. Je m’éloignai aussitôt… Et
je pus répondre ce soir-là aux pressantes questions de Fabien :
— Je l’ai revu…
— Eh bien ?
— Je ne pense pas qu’il vienne jamais ici.
Alors Fabien s’emporta, déclarant qu’il ne pouvait rien
comprendre à ce refus et que j’avais évidemment présenté ma
demande avec beaucoup de sottise et de maladresse.
 *
* *

Par les journées torrides comme celles que nous subissions

alors, il advient quelquefois que l’on voit tout à coup fumer et flamber
le foin mis en meule. Le moindre vent qui passe attise cet incendie
que n’alluma personne, gonfle, soulève, emporte les brindilles
enflammées, et, dangereusement, les répand au hasard. Ainsi, dans
les petites villes resserrées où fermente l’ennui, la calomnie naît
sans cause ; elle grandit tout à coup, se disperse et retombe, et
chacun examine le débris qui s’est venu poser à sa fenêtre ou sur le
banc de son jardin.

Celle qui commença sournoisement de réunir le nom de François

et le mien, dut se former ainsi de bien peu de chose, peut-être d’un
chuchotement de ces vieilles sortant de l’office et qui laissaient au
coin de leur bonnet blanc couler un avide regard… Peut-être
seulement de cette langueur traînant par toute la ville, inactive et
fiévreuse, tant de rêves malsains et de relents décomposés…
Toujours est-il que ce mauvais bruit commença de naître et de
s’enfler, doucement d’abord, si doucement que l’on n’y pouvait
prendre garde. — Un soir, en rentrant, Fabien me demanda, presque
mécontent :
— Pourquoi ne m’as-tu pas dit que tu avais revu Landargues ?
— Mais, répondis-je simplement, parce que je ne l’ai pas revu.
— Ah ! par exemple ! On m’a affirmé que vous étiez passés hier,
tous les deux, sur le chemin de la Bastide.
— Et qui donc affirme cela ?
— Bernard, le vieux retraité, que j’ai soigné aujourd’hui. Il le
tenait du frère de la receveuse des postes.
— Ce n’est qu’une sottise.
Il me crut, et d’ailleurs il n’eût point jugé mauvaise cette
rencontre. Mais pourquoi les gens imaginaient-ils de raconter ce qui
n’était pas vrai ? Cela prouvait bien qu’ils s’occupaient de nous, et
d’une façon maligne, que Fabien n’aimait pas. Et il demeura tout le
soir inquiet et étonné.
Il ne tarda point, toutefois, d’oublier cette petite chose comme je
l’avais oubliée moi-même ; mais il se trouva que la semaine
suivante, dans la rue des Licornes que bordent seulement de hauts
murs de jardins, je rencontrai de nouveau François Landargues. Il
demeurait en ce moment dans sa maison de la place, et, plus
malade chaque jour, sans force pour monter bien souvent aux
carrières, continuant comme il avait fait pendant ses longues
absences d’abandonner à Romain de Buires tout le soin des
affaires, il errait dans la ville au soir tombant, promenant ses
désœuvrements inquiets et son inquiète fébrilité. Guicharde le
croisait ainsi presque chaque jour et notre rencontre une fois de plus
n’avait rien que de naturel.
M’ayant aperçue et ne me laissant pas le temps de l’éviter, il
marcha vers moi rapidement et me prit par le bras en me disant
bonjour. Je voulus m’écarter ; mais il me serrait avec force. A ce
moment, Mlle Tarride ouvrait la petite porte de son jardin ; avec sa
bouche toujours ouverte, ses sourcils haut remontés dans son front
bas et qui se plisse, elle est fort sotte et sans bonté. Elle nous
regarda, baissa les yeux aussitôt et fila le long du grand mur.
— Elle emporte la nouvelle, dit François, la nouvelle que nous
nous donnons rendez-vous dans les petites rues désertes où ne
s’ouvrent point de fenêtres. Grands dieux !… vous aurais-je
compromise !… Mais que dira votre mari ?… Est-il jaloux ?… Alvère,
dites-le… ce serait si drôle ! Gourdon jaloux !… Jaloux de moi !… Je
me demande vraiment…
Il riait… Soudain il se tut. Une curiosité perverse, un rêve
dangereux, s’égaraient dans ses yeux mornes où brûlait la fièvre.
— Vos paroles sont de mauvais goût. Elles me déplaisent, lui dis-
je sèchement.
 Je le quittai ainsi et, pour ne plus le revoir, prétextant de cette
chaleur qui me rendait un peu souffrante, pendant quelques jours je
ne sortis plus de la maison. Mais Guicharde m’apprit que François
Landargues, changeant de caprice, était retourné s’installer dans la
maison de la Cloche, et je m’en allais alors quelquefois, avec ma
sœur, m’asseoir au soir tombant dans le jardin de la maison
Mondragone, qui est ouvert pendant les beaux jours aux habitants
de la ville. Dans l’air trop lourd, la bonne odeur verte qui monte des
feuillages nocturnes ne parvenait pas à s’exhaler des buis
métalliques et des platanes desséchés. Quelques vieilles près de
nous se ramassaient sur les bancs. Je pensais quelquefois avoir leur
âge. Guicharde, entre ses doigts, tournait de petites feuilles
craquelantes et consumées. Nous ne disions rien.
Les quelques amis que nous pouvions avoir étaient partis pour la
montagne. La ville était vide. Rien ne paraissait plus traîner de ce
méchant bruit qui, mêlant mon nom à celui de François, s’en était
allé comme tant d’autres commérages… Pourquoi donc, dans cette
grande tranquillité, oppressante et morne, Fabien commença-t-il
soudain de se montrer tout plein d’une aigre inquiétude ? Sans
doute, il ne pouvait me faire aucun reproche précis, et, paisiblement
persuadé qu’il m’inspirait tout l’amour nécessaire, il ne souffrait point
dans sa jalousie ; mais, en rentrant, il m’interrogeait quotidiennement
sur l’emploi de ma journée avec une minutie âpre et qui m’eût
impatientée si j’avais senti moins de fatigue. Pendant les repas, il
parlait à peine. Soudain ses sourcils se contractaient, il baissait la
tête ; sans raison, son poing tout à coup faisait trembler la table ;
avant même que nous eussions terminé, se levant brusquement, il
se mettait à marcher à travers la salle et quelquefois son pied
heurtait le sol si fortement que des carreaux, tremblant dans leur
alvéole de ciment, montait un petit nuage de poudre rougeâtre et
vaporeux.
— Mais qu’a-t-il donc ? Que peut-il se passer ? demandais-je à
Guicharde quand nous étions seules.
 Elle s’étonnait et s’effrayait avec moi. L’irritation de Fabien était
telle que nous n’osions là-dessus lui dire aucune parole ; elle
croissait chaque jour ; ses gestes, mesurés d’ordinaire, devenaient
brusques et comme incohérents. Il renversait une chaise en voulant
l’écarter. Un soir, en se servant à boire, il brisa son verre. Une rage
presque haineuse, sournoise cependant et qui savait se contenir,
luisait quelquefois dans ses yeux, et son visage se gonflait alors et
se tachait de rougeurs enfiévrées.
— Il doit être malade, expliquait Guicharde ; la route en ce
moment brûle les yeux, et il disait hier qu’en menant sa voiture il
avait senti comme un étourdissement.
 *
* *

Ma sœur, à Lagarde, s’est fait une amie, une seule, mais qu’elle
affectionne. C’est une demoiselle Jeanniot, âgée de près de
cinquante ans, fort vive et intelligente, curieuse de tout. De longs
bandeaux coulent au long de son visage qui est lisse et paisible
comme celui des saintes en cire. Dans sa vieille maison de la rue
Puits-aux-Bœufs, sur la table du vaste et humide salon, une collation
est toujours prête pour les visiteurs toujours attendus. Ils sont
nombreux, quotidiens, et lui portent des quatre coins de la ville les
nouvelles dont elle est avide, mais qu’elle sait ensuite ne répandre
que prudemment.
Guicharde, quand elle va la voir, s’y installe pour l’après-dîner.
Or, un jour de ce mauvais été qu’elle était partie ainsi, emportant son
ouvrage, elle me revint vers trois heures ; et, sous la sueur qui luisait
à ses joues, son visage était tout animé d’une indignation qui me
surprit. Elle arracha son chapeau et le jeta sur la table ; elle battit l’air
devant elle de son petit éventail noir, et elle me déclara :
— Ce François Landargues est un misérable.
Je ne fus pas étonnée. Il me semblait maintenant que, depuis
quelques jours, dans mon inquiétude, je ne cessais point d’attendre
que l’on prononçât ce nom. Je demandai simplement :
— Qu’y a-t-il encore ?
Alors, s’asseyant, elle tira sa chaise tout près de moi et me
rapporta ce que Mlle Jeanniot connaissait depuis une semaine et
s’était décidée à lui apprendre. Elle le tenait d’un de ses neveux qui
fréquentait des amis de Landargues et de Romain de Buires, d’une
autre personne encore et d’une troisième. Mais ces petits détails ne
sont plus dans mon esprit. Je me rappelle seulement les paroles, et
non point le chemin qu’elles avaient dû prendre pour venir jusqu’à
moi. Je tenais encore mon aiguille. Toute machinale, regardant bien
loin, j’en piquais à petits coups la toile abandonnée sur mes genoux.
Et dans la pénombre de la pièce chaude, aux volets clos, j’entendais
frémir à mon oreille la voix de Guicharde.

François Landargues se vantait, paraît-il, de mon amour pour

lui… L’aventure, laissait-il entendre, était agréable, et il ajoutait en
riant que Fabien Gourdon n’était ou ne pouvait être un bien
dangereux obstacle. Ces calomnies, Mlle Jeanniot l’affirmait, ne
dépassaient pas un certain monde où l’on avait le bon goût de les
juger indignes et de les arrêter. Elles ne pouvaient me toucher, et
l’impudent cynisme de François Landargues était dans toute cette
affaire la seule chose dont on se scandalisât.
— C’est un misérable, répétait Guicharde, un misérable et un fou.
Comment peut-il parler ainsi ?… Pourquoi ?…
Mais je continuais de n’être pas étonnée. Je me rappelais ce
regard ennuyé de malade et ce que j’y avais vu soudain monter
d’animation perverse et de méchanceté grandissante, tandis que
François me demandait : « Votre mari est-il jaloux ? Jaloux de moi…
ce serait si drôle ! » Ce serait drôle, en effet, de savoir ce que
deviendraient en un tel cas la soumission et la déférence de ce
Fabien Gourdon, dont on pouvait, quand on s’appelait M.
Landargues, se moquer si bien… Que ferait-il ? Tout le jeu était là. Et
François jugeait bon d’y amuser ses désœuvrements, se souciant
peu que l’insulte m’atteignît, mais prenant grand soin évidemment
que tous les propos qu’il tenait vinssent aux oreilles de Fabien. Oui,
je comprenais cela… Je comprenais aussi d’autres choses, et quand
Guicharde répéta pour la dixième fois peut-être :
— Il est fou ! Que dirait Fabien s’il venait à savoir ?
— Mais je crois qu’il le sait, dis-je d’une voix si lente qu’elle
paraissait tranquille.
— Allons donc ! s’indigna-t-elle.
— Il sait… il sait… — et ma voix continuait de traîner parce qu’en
disant ces petit mots, je pensais à trop de choses… — Je le crois…
j’en suis même sûre… Mais il n’osera jamais rien dire à François
Landargues… jamais.
— Cependant… murmura-t-elle, plus effrayée peut-être de cette
supposition que de toutes les autres…
Mille petits bruits craquelaient le silence. Il semblait que l’on
entendît se fendre et grésiller sous le soleil les tuiles du vieux toit.

— Écoute… ce soir même… ce soir… devant lui… je ferai une

allusion à toutes ces vilenies… Nous verrons bien…
— Ah !… comme tu voudras.
Guicharde hésitait encore…
— Mais si c’est par moi, cependant, qu’il vient à apprendre…
qu’arrivera-t-il ?
— Rien… rien… sois tranquille…
— J’ai presque peur.
— Et de quoi donc ?
— Je ne sais pas…
— Alors ?
De longues minutes passaient entre nos courtes phrases.
S’éveillant tout à coup, une colombe, captive dans sa cage d’osier,
au mur de la maison voisine, fit rouler dans l’air sa plainte obsédante
et qui ne cessa plus… Une angoisse singulière descendait sur
nous…

*
* *

Le soir de ce jour-là, commença de se former à l’horizon la buée

lourde qui annonce les grands orages de l’automne ; et quand nous
fûmes à table, Guicharde, pour n’être point tentée de dire tout de
suite autre chose, demanda d’abord à Fabien :
 — Pensez-vous enfin que nous ayons la pluie ?
— Je n’en sais rien, dit-il.
— Il serait grand temps…
— Évidemment.
Et, coupant son pain, il le fit avec une violence si maladroite qu’il
s’entailla le bout du doigt.
— Laisse donc ! ordonna-t-il comme je me levais pour aller
chercher un bol et un peu de linge.
Rageusement, il tamponnait la plaie avec sa serviette que
couvrirent aussitôt de larges taches de sang. Guicharde était
superstitieuse. Elle me regarda, et je vis bien que maintenant, avant
de parler, elle hésitait davantage… Cependant elle avait aujourd’hui
senti trop d’indignation pour se pouvoir entièrement contenir. Ses
gestes peu à peu s’énervaient à leur tour. Au dessert enfin, comme
Adélaïde venait de quitter la salle, ayant posé sur la table un grand
plat d’amandes fraîches, elle se décida :
— Fabien, dit-elle résolument, savez-vous ce que l’on m’a
raconté aujourd’hui ?…
Il parut inquiet et la regarda.
— C’est à propos de François Landargues, continua ma sœur…
Il parle de vous, paraît-il…
Aussitôt, le regard de Fabien, qui s’était détourné, revint sur elle ;
cette fois, il était presque haineux, lourd de violences comme un
coup au visage.
— Taisez-vous, s’écria-t-il, taisez-vous !
Il se leva, mais il restait debout devant la table ; une espèce de
frisson le secouait et, tout immobile qu’il fût, il avait l’air de se
débattre. Je l’observais tranquillement. Un papillon épais tournait
autour de la lampe, et ma pensée comme lui était incertaine et
lourde dans cette atmosphère de tourment et d’orage.
— … Vous êtes renseigné… je le vois. — Et Guicharde
maintenant n’était plus prudente, mais se laissait emporter. — Alors
que pensez-vous faire ? Cela ne peut continuer.
— Taisez-vous ! répéta Fabien.
Comme à son tour elle s’était levée, il marcha sur elle ; il la prit
aux poignets ; et sans que, tout effrayée, elle eût prononcé une
parole :
— Taisez-vous ! proféra-t-il une troisième fois, mais très bas,
d’une voix rauque et qui s’étranglait. Est-ce que vous perdez la
tête ? Vous ne le voyez donc pas que, depuis des jours et des jours,
je me contiens pour ne pas faire un malheur…
Et, furieusement, il la repoussa. Il n’avait pas lâché sa serviette
qui pendait toute sanglante à sa main gauche. Soudain, la
chiffonnant avec rage, il la jeta à ses pieds, et son poing serré avait
l’air de s’abattre sur un visage exécré. Un instant il tourna sur lui-
même, haletant, hésitant, exaspéré. Enfin, claquant les portes, il alla
s’enfermer dans son cabinet… et nous écoutions dégringoler les
menus gravats, derrière le papier gonflé par la chaleur, le long des
vieux murs tout ébranlés par la violence de cette sortie.
— Oh ! dit Guicharde, venant se presser contre moi… tu vois bien
qu’il fallait avoir peur… Qu’est-ce qui arrivera maintenant ? Il avait la
mort dans les yeux…
Je demeurai tout indifférente.
— Ne t’inquiète donc pas… Je le connais trop… Ses
emportements signifient peu de chose.
Et tranquillement, commençant d’ouvrir quelques amandes, je
mis un peu de sel au coin de mon assiette pour qu’elles y prissent
plus de goût.

*
* *

Malgré ce beau calme que je pensais avoir, il me fut, après une

telle scène, impossible de dormir. N’osant allumer la lampe par
crainte de réveiller Fabien, tout anéanti dans son lourd sommeil,