The Haitian Declaration of Independence
(January 1, 1804)

The General in Chief to the People of Hayti,
Citizens,
It is not enough to have expelled from your country the barbarians
who have for ages stained it with blood—it is not enough
to have curbed the factions which, succeeding each other by
turns, sported with a phantom of liberty which France exposed
to their eyes. It is become necessary, by a last act of national authority,
to ensure for ever the empire of liberty in the country
which has given us birth. It is necessary to deprive an inhuman
government, which has hitherto held our minds in a state of the
most humiliating torpitude, of every hope of being enabled
again to enslave us. Finally, it is necessary to live independent,
or die. Independence or Death! Let these sacred words serve to
rally us—let them be signals of battle, and of our re-union.
Citizens—Countrymen—I have assembled on this solemn
day, those courageous chiefs, who, on the eve of receiving the
last breath of expiring liberty, have lavished their blood to preserve
it. These generals, who have conducted your struggles
against tyranny, have not yet done. The French name still dark-
ens our plains: every thing recalls the remembrance of the
cruelties of that barbarous people. Our laws, our customs,
our cities, every thing bears the characteristic of the French,—
Hearken to what I say!—the French still have a footing in our
island! and you believe yourselves free and independent of that
republic, which has fought all nations, it is true, but never conquered
those who would be free! What! victims for fourteen
years by credulity and forbearance! conquered not by French
armies, but by the canting eloquence of the proclamations of
their agents! When shall we be wearied with breathing the
same air with them? What have we in common with that
bloody-minded people? Their cruelties compared to our moderation—
their colour to ours—the extension of seas which
separate us—our avenging climate—all plainly tell us they are
not our brethren; that they never will become such; and, if they
find an asylum among us, they will still be the instigators of our
troubles and of our divisions. Citizens, men, women, young
and old, cast round your eyes on every part of this island; seek
there your wives, your husbands, your brothers, your sisters—
what did I say? seek your children—your children at the breast,
what is become of them? I shudder to tell it—the prey of vultures.
Instead of these interesting victims, the affrighted eye sees
only their assassins—tigers still covered with their blood, and
whose terrifying presence reproaches you for your insensibility,
and your guilty tardiness to avenge them—what do you wait
for, to appease their manes? Remember that you have wished
your remains to be laid by the side of your fathers—When you
have driven out tyranny—will you descend into their tombs,
without having avenged them? No: their bones would repulse
yours. And ye, invaluable men, intrepid Generals, who insensible
to private sufferings, have given new life to liberty, by lavishing
your blood; know, that you have done nothing if you do
not give to the nations a terrible, though just example, of the
vengeance that ought to be exercised by a people proud of having
recovered its liberty, and zealous of maintaining it. Let us
intimidate those, who might dare to attempt depriving us of it
again: let us begin with the French; let them shudder at approaching
our shores, if not on account of the cruelties they
have committed, at least at the terrible resolution we are going
to make—To devote to death whatsoever native of France
should soil with his sacrilegious footstep, this territory of liberty.
We have dared to be free—let us continue free by ourselves,
and for ourselves; let us imitate the growing child; his own
strength breaks his leading-strings, which become useless and
troublesome to him in his walk. What are the people who have
fought us? what people would reap the fruits of our labours?
and what dishonourable absurdity, to conquer to be slaves!
Slaves—leave to the French nation this odious epithet; they
have conquered to be no longer free—let us walk in other
footsteps; let us imitate other nations, who, carrying their solicitude
into futurity, and dreading to leave posterity an example
of cowardice, have preferred to be exterminated, rather
than be erased from the list of free people. Let us, at the same
time, take care, lest a spirit of proselytism should destroy the
work—let our neighbours breathe in peace—let them live
peaceably under the shield of those laws which they have
framed for themselves; let us beware of becoming revolutionary
fire-brands—of creating ourselves the legislators of the Antilles—
of considering as a glory the disturbing the tranquility
of the neighboring islands; they have not been, like the one we
inhabit, drenched with the innocent blood of the inhabitants—
they have no vengeance to exercise against the authority that
protects them; happy, never to have experienced the pestilence
that has destroyed us, they must wish well to our posterity.
Peace with our neighbours, but accursed be the French
name—eternal hatred to France: such are our principles.
Natives of Hayti—my happy destiny reserves me to be one
day the centinel who is to guard the idol we now sacrifice to. I
have grown old fighting for you, sometimes almost alone; and if
I have been happy enough to deliver to you the sacred charge
confided to me, recollect it is for you, at present, to preserve
it. In fighting for your liberty, I have laboured for my own happiness:
before it shall be consolidated by laws which shall ensure
individual liberty, your chiefs whom I have assembled
here, and myself, owe you this last proof of our devotedness.
Generals, and other chiefs, unite with me for the happiness
of our country: the day is arrived—the day which will ever
perpetuate our glory and our independence.
If there exist among you a lukewarm heart, let him retire,
and shudder to pronounce the oath which is to unite us. Let us
swear to the whole world, to posterity, to ourselves, to renounce
France for ever, and to die, rather than live under its
dominion—to fight till the last breath for the independence of
our country.
And ye, people, too long unfortunate, witness the oath
we now pronounce: recollect that it is upon your constancy
and courage I depended when I first entered the career of
liberty to fight despotism and tyranny, against which you have
been struggling these last fourteen years; remember that I
have sacrificed every thing to fly to your defence—parents,
children, fortune, and am now only rich, in your liberty—
that my name has become a horror to all friends of
slavery, or despots; and tyrants only pronounce it, cursing the
day that gave me birth; if ever you refuse or receive with
murmuring the laws, which the protecting angel that watches
over your destinies, shall dictate to me for your happiness,
you will merit the fate of an ungrateful people. But away
from me this frightful idea: You will be the guardians of
the liberty you cherish, the support of the Chief who commands
you.
Swear then to live free and independent, and to prefer death
to every thing that would lead to replace you under the yoke;
swear then to pursue for everlasting, the traitors, and enemies
of your independence.

j. j. dessalines.
Head-quarters, Gonaïves,
1st Jan. 1804, 1st Year of Independence.

Source: Marcus Rainsford, An Historical Account of the Black Empire of Hayti: Comprehending
a View of the Principal Transactions in the Revolution of Saint-Domingo;
with its Ancient and Modern State (London, 1805), 442–446.