Chapter V: Part 5

The gentlemen remarked, that the banks of this arm of the river, are very well cultivated; the fields are covered with plantations of cotton-trees, with maize[35] and millet; one meets, at intervals, with tufts of wood, which render it agreeable and healthy. Mr. Kummer thinks that this country could be adapted to the cultivation of colonial productions. Here begins Nigritia, and one may say, the country of good people; for, from this moment, the travellers were never again in want of food, and the negroes gave them whatever they wanted.

In the first village, which is called Vu, they met with a good negress, who offered them milk and cous-cous, (flour of millet). She was affected, and shed tears when she saw the two unhappy whites almost naked, and particularly when she learned that they were Frenchmen. She began by praising our nation; it is the custom of these people; and then, she gave them a short account of the misfortunes she had experienced. This good negress had been made a slave by the Moors, who had torn her from the arms of her mother; she consequently detested them, and called them the banditti of the desert; she said to the two whites, in very good French: "are they not very villainous people?" "Yes," answered our unhappy countrymen. "Well," continued she, "these robbers carried me off, notwithstanding the efforts of my unhappy father, who defended me with courage; they then carried desolation into our village, which a moment before enjoyed tranquillity and happiness; on this sad day we saw whole families carried off, and we were all conducted to that horrible market at St. Louis, where the whites carry on the execrable trade of dealers in men; chance favored me, and saved me from being sent to find death in America, amidst the tempests which cover the ocean that separates it from Africa. I had the good fortune to fall into the hands of the respectable General Blanchot,[37] whose name and memory will be ever dear to the inhabitants of St. Louis. This worthy governor kept me some years in his service; but seeing that I always thought of my country and my relations, and that, in short, I could not habituate myself to your customs, he gave me my liberty, and from that moment I have vowed eternal friendship to everything that bears the French name." Our two whites were much affected by this interesting meeting; from that moment they fancied themselves among their own countrymen.

After some hours repose they continued their journey, and in fact, they had every reason to praise the negroes, who did not let them want for anything. In proportion, as they approached the town, the Moors became much more civil, and when they were going to pass the river, to enter St. Louis, Prince Muhammed returned Mr. Kummer his watch. The French governor received the Prince and his suite, very well; he caused them to be paid about sixty francs in two sous-pieces; this sum seemed enormous to them; for they were extremely satisfied with it: this gives ground to suppose that they were not acquainted with the value of the gourde, when they demanded eight hundred for the ransom of each of the two travellers. It was on the 22nd of July, that they arrived, after having wandered sixteen days in the burning desert of Zaara, and having endured all the horrors of hunger and thirst, particularly the unfortunate Mr. Rogery, who had to bear all the caprices of the Moors.

All the shipwrecked persons who had escaped these disasters being assembled at St. Louis, we thought we should immediately take possession of our establishments. But the English governor, Mr. Beurthonne, having learned our shipwreck, either of his own authority, or having received orders to that effect, from his government, refused to give up the colony. This difficulty obliged the commander of the French expedition to take measures, to wait for fresh orders from France. He was enjoined to send away immediately all the shipwrecked persons who arrived in the town of St. Louis.

Every thing induces us to believe that the delay in the restitution of these settlements depended on the English governor, who threw obstacles in the way, whenever circumstances permitted him. He alledged at first, that he had not received orders to give up the colony, and that besides he was in want of vessels to remove his troops, and all the effects belonging to his nation. This last allegation of wanting vessels is, of itself, sufficient to shew, that he was not much inclined to retire from the Isle of St. Louis; for the French governor, in order to remove all difficulties, proposed the _Loire_ to serve as a transport, and this offer was refused. We think we have guessed the cause of this delay in the restitution of the colony, for two reasons, which seem to us the better founded, as they take their origin in the British policy, which is constantly to follow no other rule than its political or commercial interest. We give them, however, only as suppositions; but these suppositions seem so well confirmed by the events to which they relate, that we do not hesitate to lay them before our readers.

We think then that Mr. Beurthonne had received orders to give up the Islands of St. Louis and Goree, to the French squadron, which should come to take possession of them; but we think also, that he was desired to evacuate them as late as possible, in case the English merchants or government could derive any advantage from a delay.

In fact, if Mr. Beurthonne had not received any instructions to deliver up the colony, it was certainly, useless to alledge that he was in want of vessels. To the desires of the French governor, he had only to make the plain and unanswerable objection, that his government had not given him any orders. It is therefore, by the kind of vacillation which appears in his answers, that himself, leads us to the opinion which we have formed. But it will be said, what advantage could the English government derive from this delay? The following, is what we conjecture on this subject.

The gum trade was on the point of commencing; it was very just that the English merchants, who were in Senegal, should carry off this crop, which would have belonged to the French merchants if the colony, had been restored.

A second motive, not less powerful, is, that we were just at the entrance of the bad season, and that the English settlements, on the river Gambia, (to which, a part of the English, garrison were to go) are extremely unhealthy: diseases that are almost always mortal, prevail during the winter-season, and generally carry off two thirds of the Europeans, who are newly arrived. Every year the mortality is the same; because, every year it is necessary to send fresh garrisons: those who have the good fortune to resist these terrible epidemics, come, to recover, to the Isle of Goree, where the air is salubrious. Such are the reasons which, as we think, caused the delay in the restitution of our settlements on the coast of Africa.

Without losing ourselves farther in conjectures, we will conclude with one remark: namely, them on this occasion the English governor was influenced more by the usual policy of his government than by local and particular considerations. Let us remember what passed on the restitution of our colonies at the peace of 1802 and that of 1814; and it will be seen that the British Government, without giving itself much trouble to assign reasons, has adopted and faithfully followed the principle, of not willingly giving up what it possessed.[38]

The shipwreck of the Medusa favoured the designs of the governor; for, what sensation could be produced by the arrival of an expedition, of which the principal vessel no longer existed, and the three others appeared one after the other? If the English had had the intention to restore the colony on our arrival, the disorder in which we appeared, would alone have sufficed; to make them conceive the idea of delaying as much as possible to withdraw from the Island of St. Louis. But what we cannot conceive is, that the governor, after giving the French a good reception for some days, should have required their troops to be sent away from the colony: and what were these troops? wretches almost naked, worn out by the long fatigues and privations which they had had to bear in the deserts; they were almost all without arms. Did he fear the spirit of the colonists, and even that of the negroes, which was not in his favor, and who saw with the greatest pleasure the arrival of the French? This is not at all probable.

All the shipwrecked persons being assembled at St. Louis, as we have already said, the governor, two days before his departure for Cape Verd, thought of sending a vessel on board the Medusa, to look for a sum of 100,000 francs,[39] which was intended to form the treasure of the colony, as well as provisions, which were in abundance on board, and of which there was some scarcity in the colony. Very little was said about the men, who had remained on board, and to whom their companions had solemnly promised to send for them as soon as they should arrive at St. Louis; but these unfortunate men were already hardly thought of any more. Mr. Corréard says that the first day that he took a walk in the town, he went to pay a visit to the family of the governor. During the conversation, the vessel was mentioned, that was going to be sent to the Medusa, as also the possibility of recovering the 100,000 francs, provisions, and effects. Seeing that they said nothing of the seventeen men who had remained on board the frigate, he said, "but a more precious object, of which nothing is said, is the seventeen poor men who were left!" "Pooh," answered somebody, "seventeen! there are not three left." "And if there remained but three, but one," replied he, "yet, his life is more valuable than all that can be recovered from the frigate;" and left the company in anger.

When in the first part of this work, we represented Mrs. and Miss Schmalz, as alone unmoved when the frigate ran aground; and seeming to rise above the general consternation, our readers may have given them credit for uncommon greatness of soul, and more than manly courage. Why are we obliged to destroy this honorable illusion which we may have caused? Why, when these ladies, have carried indifference so far as to dispense themselves from the most common duties of humanity, by refraining from paying the smallest visit to the poor wretches, placed in the hospital at St. Louis, have they themselves discovered to, us that their composure on board the frigate was nothing but profound insensibility?

We could, however, if not excuse, at least explain this last mark of their hard-heartedness: what sight, in fact, awaited them in this melancholy abode, on the new theatre, where the sad victims of a first act of inhumanity, had to struggle with the fresh miseries prepared for them by the indifference, the inattention of their fellow-creatures? The sight of men, who all bore in their hearts, the remembrance of the faults, of a husband, of a father, could not be an object which they would be desirous of seeking, or meeting with; and in this point of view, the care, which they took to avoid the hospital, seems to us almost pardonable. But what is not, what cannot be excused, what we have not learned without the greatest surprise is, that Miss Schmalz, judging of us doubtless, after a manner of thinking which was not ours, and not supposing it possible that the faults of her father, and the inhuman conduct of herself and her mother, should not be one day known in France, should have hastened to anticipate this publication, by writing to her friends at Paris, a letter justifying her relations with the shipwrecked persons belonging to the raft, and trying to devote these unfortunate men to public hatred and contempt. In this singular letter, which has been circulated in Paris, she confessed that the sight of the shipwrecked persons inspired her with a degree of horror, which she could not suppress. "It was really impossible for me," said she, "to endure the presence of these men, without feeling a sentiment of indignation."

What then was our crime in the eyes of Miss Schmalz? Doubtless that of knowing too well the persons really guilty of our misfortunes. Yes, on this account, whenever Miss Schmalz saw us, which was extremely seldom, our presence must have been a thunder-bolt to her. She could say to herself, "these men have in their hands the fate of my father. If they speak, if they utter complaints which they suppress here, if they are listened to, (and how should they not be listened to in a country, where a charter, the noble present of our august Monarch, causes justice and the law to reign,) instead of being the daughter of a governor, I am but a wretched orphan; instead of these honors, with which it gives me so much pleasure to be surrounded, I fall into the degradation, and the oblivion which generally await the unhappy family of a great criminal."

It is certain that, if we had listened to our griefs, if we had called to legal account, the authors of our misfortunes, it is difficult to believe that they would have escaped the inflexible rigour of justice. But we have been generous, and it is we who are oppressed! Thus, as the historians of the human heart, have but too often observed, "_It is more easy to pardon the injury we have received, than that we have inflicted_."

The little vessel chosen to go to the frigate, was a schooner, commanded by a lieutenant of the navy; the crew was composed of some black-drivers, and some passengers. It sailed from St. Louis, on the 26th, of July, and had on board, provisions for eight days: so that having met with contrary winds, it was obliged to return to port, after having, in vain, endeavoured for seven or eight days, to get to the Medusa.

This schooner sailed again after having taken in provisions for about twenty-five days; but, as the sails were in a very bad condition, and the owner would not change them, till they were wholly unfit for service, she was obliged to sail again, with a few repairs only. Having experienced at sea, a pretty heavy gale, the sails were almost entirely destroyed, and she was obliged to return to port after having been a fortnight at sea, without having been able to accomplish her purpose. She was then furnished with new sails, which cost about ten days labour. As soon as she was ready, they sailed for the third time, and reached the Medusa, fifty-two days, after she had been abandoned.

A very obvious reflection here presents itself to the most inattentive mind: it is certain, that the reader must presume, that this was the only schooner in the colony; it is our duty to undeceive him: many other merchants offered their vessels; but their offers were declined. The governor liked better to treat with a single house, than to have accounts to regulate with a part of the merchants of the colony; who, however, were ready to place at his disposal, every thing in their power. Mr. Durecur was the merchant favored. This house carries on the whole trade of Senegal; its firm has taken place of the African company. He made the governor large advances, both of provisions and money, which amounted to 50,000 francs; he had continually, at his house, Mr. Schmalz, his family and a numerous suite. The general opinion was that, Mr. Durecur had got by his acts of generosity, a decent profit of a hundred per cent; he was, besides, recompenced, on the application of the governor, by that decoration, which it seems, ought to be conferred for some brilliant action,[40] and not for a very profitable commercial transaction; but let us return to our schooner. What was the astonishment of those on board her, at still finding in the Medusa, three unfortunate men on the point of expiring! Most certainly, they were very far from expecting this meeting; but as we have said, 17 were abandoned. What became of the 14 others? We will try to relate the story of their unhappy fate.

As soon as the boats and the raft had left the frigate, these 17 men endeavoured to subsist till assistance should be sent them. They searched wherever the water had not penetrated, and succeeded in collecting sufficient biscuit, wine, brandy, and bacon, to enable them to subsist for some time. As long as their provision lasted, tranquillity prevailed among them: but forty-two days passed without their receiving the assistance which had been promised them; when twelve of the most resolute, seeing that they were on the point of being destitute of everything, determined to get to the land. To attain their object, they formed a raft with the pieces of timber which remained on board of the frigate, the whole bound together like the first, with strong ropes: they embarked upon it, and directed their course towards the land; but how could they steer on a machine, that was doubtless destitute of oars and the necessary sails. It is certain that these poor men, who had taken with them but a very small stock of provisions, could not hold out long, and that, overcome by despair and want, they have been the victims of their rashness. That such was the result of their fatal attempt, was proved by the remains of their raft, which were found on the coast of the desert of Zaara, by some Moors, subjects of King Zaide, who came to Andar to give the information. These unhappy men were doubtless the prey of the sea-monsters which are found in great numbers on the coasts of Africa.

Unhappy victims we deplore the rigour of your lot: like us, you have been exposed to the most dreadful torments: like us abandoned upon a raft, you have had to struggle with those pressing wants which man cannot subdue, hunger and thirst carried to the extreme! Our imagination carries us to your fatal machine; we see your despair, your rage; we appreciate the whole extent of your sufferings, and your misfortunes draw forth our tears. It is then true that misfortune strikes more forcibly him who has had already to struggle with adversity! The happy man scarcely believes in misfortune, and often accuses him whose distresses he has caused.

A sailor who had refused to embark upon the raft, attempted also to reach the shore some days after the first; he put himself on a chicken coop, but he sunk within half a cable's length of the frigate.

Four men resolved not to leave the Medusa, alledging that they preferred dying on board, to braving new dangers which it seemed impossible for them to surmount. One of the four had just died when the schooner arrived, his body had been thrown into the sea: the three others were very weak; two days later they would have been no more. These unhappy men occupied each a separate place, and never left it but to fetch provisions, which in the last days consisted only of a little brandy, tallow, and salt pork. When they met, they ran upon each other brandishing their knifes. As long as the wine had lasted with the other provisions, they had kept up their strength perfectly well; but as soon as they had only brandy to drink they grew weaker every day.[41]

Every care was bestowed on these three men that their situation demanded, and all three are now in perfect health.

After having given the necessary succours to the three men of whom we have just spoken, they proceeded to get out of the frigate, every thing that could be removed; they cut a large hole in her, (_on la saborda_,) and were thus able to save wine, flour, and many other things. Mr. Corréa had the simplicity to think that the shipwrecked people were going to recover a part, at least, of their effects, since a vessel, belonging to the king, had reached the frigate. But far from it! Those who were on board declared themselves corsairs, and pillaged, as we may say, all the effects which they could get at. One of them Mr. ------, carried off several portmanteaus, and four hammocks, full of all kind of articles, the whole for his own use.

The schooner having quite completed its cargo, and all attempts to recover the 100,000 francs, of which we have spoken, being fruitless, returned to Senegal. We saw this little vessel arrive, and our hearts beat with joy; we thought we should see again our unfortunate companions, who had been abandoned on board the frigate, and recover some clothes, of which we were in much need. The schooner passed the bar, and in an hour or two had traversed the space which separated it from us. In an instant we ran to the port, and enquired if any of our unfortunate countrymen had been saved. We were answered, three are still living, and fourteen have died since our departure: this answer confounded us. We then asked if it had been possible to save any of our effects; and were answered, _yes_, but that they were a _good prize_; we could not understand this answer, but it was repeated to us, and we learnt for the first time that we were at war with Frenchmen, because we had been excessively unfortunate.

The next day the town was transformed into a public fair, which lasted at least a week. There were sold effects belonging to the State, and those of the unhappy crew who had perished; here, the clothes of those who were still living, a little further was the furniture of the captain's cabin: in another place were the signal flags, which the negroes were buying to make themselves aprons and cloaks; at one place they sold the tackling and sails of the frigate, at another bed-linen, frames, hammocks, quilts, books, instruments, &c. &c.

But there is one thing that is sacred, respected by every man who serves with honor, the rallying sign under which he ought to find victory or death, the flag; what it will be asked became of it?... It was saved ... Did it fall; into the hands of a Frenchman?... No! he who debases a respectable sign, which represents a nation, cannot belong to that nation. Well! this sign was employed in domestic uses.[42] Vases which belonged to the captain of the frigate himself, were also saved, and were transferred from his side-board to the table of the Governor, where Mr. de Chaumareys recognized them, and it is from him we have received these details. It is true that the ladies of the Governor had received them, as a present, from those who went on board the schooner.

Nothing was now seen in the town but negroes dressed, some in jackets and pantaloons, some in large grey great coats; others had shirts, waistcoats, _police-bonnets_, &c. every thing, in short, presented the image of disorder and confusion. Such was a part of the mission of the schooner: the provisions, which it brought, were of the greatest choice to the French Governor, who began to be in want of them.

Some days after, the Merchants of St. Louis, were authorized to go on board the Medusa with their vessels, on the following conditions: they were to equip the vessels at their own expence, and all the effects which they could save out of the frigate were to be divided into two equal parts, one for the government, the other for the owners of the vessels. Four schooners sailed from St. Louis, and in a few days reached their destination: they brought back to the colony a great quantity of barrels of flour, salt, meat, wine, brandy, cordage, sails, &c. &c. This expedition was terminated in less than twenty days. As the schooners arrived in the Senegal, the proper way would have been to unload them, and deposit the things saved, in a magazine, till the arrival of the French Governor, who was absent; it appears to us, that, in making the division, his presence, or that of some other competent authority was necessary. But whether the ship-owners, would not wait for the return of the Governor, or whether they were in haste to possess their share of the cargo, they went to Mr. Potin Agent, or Partner of the house of Durecur, and begged him to divide the articles saved from the frigate. We are ignorant whether Mr. Potin was authorized to make this division; but whether he was authorised or not, we think he could not make it, without the co-operation of one or more officers of the administration, since he was himself one of the ship-owners. It would have been the more easy to have this division superintended by an officer of the government, as there were then three or four at St. Louis; among whom were the secretary and the paymaster. Yet neither of them was called in to be present at these operations, though they lasted some days. However, those to whom the vessels belonged, shewed themselves much more generous to the shipwrecked people, than those who went on board the frigate, with the first schooner: the few books and effects which they had been able to save were restored to such of the crew as claimed them.

A short time after these depredations were ended, some French officers and soldiers, belonging as well to the land as the sea-service, and who were still at St. Louis, received orders from the English Governor to go immediately to the camp of Daccard: it was about the first of October. At this time Mr. Corréard remained the only Frenchman in the hospital at St. Louis, till he should be entirely recovered. We are entirely ignorant of the reasons which induced this Governor to employ such severe measures towards about twenty unhappy persons, among whom three officers had been part of the crew of the fatal raft. He however, allowed the civil officers to remain in the city.

Let us take a rapid survey of the new misfortunes which overtook some of the unfortunate persons who escaped from the raft and the desert, and remained plunged in a horrid hospital without assistance, and without consolation, before we proceed to the history of the camp at Daccard, which will terminate this account. Our readers will remember that it was on the 23d of July, that the men, who escaped from the raft, were united to the sixty-three landed by the long boat, near the Moles of Angel.

Mr. Coudin, commander of the raft, and Mr. Savigny, were received at Senegal by Mr. Lasalle, a French Merchant, who, on all occasions, bestowed on them the most generous care, which spared them the new sufferings, to which their companions in misfortune were exposed, and gives Mr. Lasalle a title to their lasting gratitude.

As for Mr. Corréard, as soon as he was at the isle of St. Louis, he and some others of our companions covered with wounds, and almost without life, were laid upon truck-beds, which, instead of mattresses, had only blankets doubled in four, with sheets disgustingly dirty; the four officers of the troops were also placed in one of the rooms of the hospital, and the soldiers and sailors in another room, near the first, and lying in the same manner as the officers. The evening of their arrival, the Governor, accompanied by the captain of the frigate, and by a numerous suite, came to pay them a visit: the air of compassion, with which he addressed them, much affected them; in this first moment, they were promised a guinea, linen to clothe them, wine to restore their strength, and ammunition to amuse them when they should be able to go out. Vain promises! It is to the compassion of strangers, alone, that they were indebted for their existence for five months. The Governor announced his departure for the camp at Duccard, saying to these poor men who were left behind, that he had given orders that they should want for nothing during his absence. All the French, able to embark, departed with the Governor.

Left to themselves in the horrid abode which they inhabited, surrounded with men in whom their cruel situation inspired no pity, our countrymen again abandoned, gave vent to their distress in useless complaints. In vain they represented to the English physician that the ordinary ration of a common soldier, which had been hitherto given them, was wholly unfit for them, first, because their health required, if it was indeed wished to recover them, better nourishment than is given to a soldier in good health in his barracks: that, besides, officers enjoyed in all countries some preference, and that, in consequence, he was requested to have regard to the just desires of the sick.

The doctor was inexorable: he answered that he had received no orders and that he should make no change. They then addressed their complaints to the English Governor, who was equally insensible. It is, however, probable that the French Governor, before his departure, had requested this officer to afford all the assistance which the situation of those whom he left required, under the protection of his generosity. If this request was made it must be allowed that this Mr. Beurthonne has a heart but little accessible to sentiments of humanity.

What a contrast between the conduct of this Lieutenant-Colonel, and that of the other officers of his nation, belonging to the expedition for exploring the interior of Africa, with whom the officers of the garrison joined. It is to their generous efforts that the officers saved from the raft, owed assistance and perhaps life. It is not, in fact, rare to see the same circumstances give rise to the same observation. On occasions of this kind, a great number of private Englishmen excite astonishment by the excess of their generosity to their enemies, while on the other hand the agents of the government, and individuals, who doubtless believe that they enter into its views, seem to glory in a conduct diametrically opposite.

These gentlemen, some days after the arrival of our unfortunate comrades, having been informed of their melancholy situation, came to the hospital and took away with them the four officers who were already able to go out; they invited them to share their repast with them, till the colony should be given up.[43] Forty days had passed, since the compassionate English had come to the relief of these four companions in misfortune, without the distressed Corréard's having personally felt the effects of their kindness. His health was greatly impaired, in consequence of the unheard-of sufferings which he had experienced on the raft; his wounds gave him great pain, and he was obliged to remain in the infirmary: add to this the absolute want of clothes, having nothing to cover him except the sheet of his bed, in which he wrapped himself up. Since the departure of the governor, he had heard nothing of the French, which made him very uneasy, and doubled his desire to join his countrymen, hoping to find from them, consolation and relief; for he had friends among the officers and passengers who were at the Camp of Deccard. He was in this temper of mind, and in the melancholy situation which we have just described, reduced to the ration of a common soldier, during the forty days which had just elapsed, when he caused the captain of an American merchant vessel to be asked whether he would do him the pleasure to take him to Cape Verd, to which place he was to go; the answer was affirmative, and the departure fixed for two days after. In this interval, Mr. Kummer, the naturalist, happened to express, in the presence of Major Peddy, commander in chief of the English expedition for the interior of Africa, the fears which he felt at the departure of his friend, alledging that he was very uneasy respecting the effects of the bad air of the camp of Deccard, on a constitution so shaken as that of Mr. Corréard. Scarcely had the sensible Mr. Kummer ceased speaking, when Major Peddy hastily went away, returned to his apartment, and immediately got ready linen, clothes and money, and while he was thus employed, this genuine philanthropist shed tears at the fate of the unhappy man, whom he did not know, cursing those who had cruelly abandoned him. His indignation was excited, because he had been assured that ever since the departure of the French governor, Mr. Corréard had heard nothing farther, either of him, or of his countrymen. Respectable Major! worthy friend of humanity! in departing for the interior of Africa, you have carried with you the regret and the gratitude of a heart, on which your noble beneficence is indelibly engraven.

While this unexpected relief was preparing Mr. Corréard, seated at the foot of his truck bed, was overwhelmed by the thoughts of his wretchedness, and plunged in the most heart-rending reflections. All that he saw affected him still more deeply, than the dreadful scenes which had passed upon the raft. "In the very heat of battle," said he, "the pain of my wounds was not accompanied by the gloomy despondency which now depresses me, and by a slow, but sure progress, is conducting me to death. Only two months ago, I was strong, intrepid, capable of braving every fatigue: now, confined to this horrid abode, my courage is vanished, every thing forsakes me. I have, in vain, asked some assistance of those who have come to see me, not from humanity, but from unfeeling curiosity: thus, people went to Liege to see the brave Goffin, after he had extricated himself by his courage, from the coal-pit which had fallen in and buried him. But he, happier than I, was rewarded with the cross of the legion of honour, and a pension which enabled him to subsist.[44] If I were in France," he continued, "my relations, my countrymen, would mitigate my sufferings; but here, under a burning climate, where every thing is strange to me, surrounded by these Africans, who are hardened by the habitual sight of the horrors produced by the slave trade, nothing relieves me; on the contrary, the length of the nights, the continuance of my sufferings, the sight of those of my companions in misfortune, the disgusting filth by which I am surrounded, the inattention of a soldier who acts as nurse, and is always drunk or negligent, the insupportable hardness of a wretched bed, scarcely sheltered from the inclemency of the air, all announce to me an inevitable death. I must resign myself to it, and await it with courage! I was less to be pitied on the raft; then my imagination was exalted, and I scarcely enjoyed my intellectual faculties! but here, I am only an ordinary man, with all the weaknesses of humanity. My mind is continually absorbed in melancholy reflections; my soul sinks under incessant sufferings, and I daily see those who shared my unhappy fate, drop before me into the grave.[45]"

While he was wholly absorbed in this distressing soliloquy, he saw two young officers enter the room, followed by three or four slaves, carrying various effects. These two officers approached, with an air of kindness, the mournful and motionless Corréard, "Accept," said they, "these trifling presents, they are sent to you by Major Peddy, and Captain Cambpell: we, sir, have desired the happiness of bringing you this first assistance; we were commissioned by all our comrades, to obtain from you accurate information respecting your wants; you are, besides, invited to partake of our table, all the time we shall pass together: the Major, and all the officers, beg you to remain here, and not to go to the pestilential camp at Deccard, where a mortal distemper would carry you off in a few days." It would be ungrateful not to name these two young officers: one bears the name of Beurthonne, without being a relation of the Governors; the name of the other is Adam.

While these generous officers were fulfilling, with so much politeness and kindness, these acts of humanity, Major Peddy entered the room, followed by other slaves, also loaded with things, which he came to offer to the friend of the naturalist, Kummer, by whom he was accompanied. The Major approached the unfortunate Corréard, who seemed as if awaking from a dream; he embraced him, shedding tears, and vowing to him a friendship which never abated during the whole time that he remained with him. What a sublime image is a fine man, almost two metres in height, who sheds tears of pity at the sight of an unfortunate man, who was not less affected, and, shed them in abundance, penetrated with the most delicious feelings of gratitude and admiration. After he had recovered from the emotion excited in him by the sight of the melancholy situation of the stranger, whom he had just snatched from misery, the Major made him the most obliging offers: and that Mr. Corréard might not decline them, he assured him, beforehand, that he himself and many of his comrades had received similar assistance from Frenchmen; and that their countrymen ought to allow him the honour of discharging, if it were possible, his debt to their nation, for the generous treatment which he had received from them.[46] Offers so nobly made, could not but be accepted by Mr. Corréard, who expressed to his benefactor, how happy he should esteem himself to be able to merit the friendship that he had just offered him, and that he wished nothing so much as to be able, one day, to shew his gratitude in a manner worthy of himself, and of a Frenchman. From that time Mr. Corréard received all imaginable assistance from the Major and his officers, and it may be said with truth, that he owes them his life, as do the four French officers who were with him.

On the 24th of August, Mr. Clairet paid the debt of nature. It was thirty-four days after our arrival at St, Louis. Mr. Corréard had the grief to see him die at his side, and to hear him say before his death, that he died satisfied, since he had had time to recommend to his father a natural son whom he loved. At this time Major Peddy had not yet relieved Mr. Corréard; he was without clothes, so that he could not attend the funeral of his comrade, who had just expired, worn out by the sufferings which he had experienced on the raft.

The remains of this young officer received the honours due to them. The English officers, and especially Major Peddy, acted on this occasion in a manner worthy of praise.

Perhaps our readers will not be sorry to be made acquainted with some of the details of this mournful ceremony. They are drawn up by Mr. Corréard, who still feels a sad pleasure in calling to mind the moments which necessarily made upon him so great an impression.

The body of the unfortunate Clairet was laid out in a subterraneous apartment of the hospital, whither immense crowds repaired to see once more the mortal remains of one who was almost regarded as an extraordinary man; and who, at this moment, owed to his cruel adventures, the powerful interest, which the public favor attached to him and to those, who had so miraculously escaped from all the combined afflictions sustained on the fatal raft.

"About four o'clock in the afternoon," says Mr. Corréard, "I heard the mournful sounds of martial instruments under the windows of the hospital. This was a dreadful blow to me, not so much because it warned me of the speedy fate which infallibly awaited me, as because this funeral signal announced to me the moment of eternal separation from the companion of my sufferings: from the friend, whom our common misfortunes had given me, when I passed with him the most dreadful moments of my life. At this sound I wrapped myself in my sheet, and crawled to the balcony of my window, to bid him the last farewell, and to follow him with my eyes as far as possible. I know not what effect the sight of me may have produced, but when I now reflect upon it myself; I imagine that the people must have believed it was a spectre welcoming a corpse to the abode of the grave."

"As for me, notwithstanding my emotion, the sacrifice which I supposed I had made of my life, permitted me to contemplate and to follow in detail the sad spectacle on which my almost extinguished eyes eagerly dwelt. I distinguished a crowd of slaves who had obtained permission from their masters to be present at the ceremony. A body of English soldiers was placed in a line; after them came two lines of French soldiers and sailors. Immediately after, four soldiers bore the coffin on their shoulders, after the manner of the ancients. A national flag covered it, and hung down to the ground; four officers, two French and two English, were placed at the angles, diagonally opposite, and supported the corners; on the coffin were laid the uniform and the arms of the young soldier, and the distinctive marks of his rank. On the right and left French officers of the army and navy, and all the officers of the administration, ranged in two files, formed the procession. The band of music was at their head: afterwards, came the English staff with the respectable Major Peddy at its head, and the corps of citizens, led by the mayor of the town; lastly, the officers of the regiment, and a detachment, commanded by one of them, closed the procession. Thus was conducted to his last repose, this other victim of the fatal raft, snatched in the flower of his age, from his friends and his country, by the most fatal death, and whose fine qualities and courage rendered him worthy of a less deplorable fate."

This brave officer, who was only twenty-eight years of age, had been eight years in the service; he had received the cross of the Legion of Honor at the _Champ de Mai_, as a reward for the services which be had performed at Talavera de la Reina, Sierra Morena, Saragossa, Montmiraill, Champaubert, and Montéreau; he was present, also, at the too deplorable day of Waterloo; he was then ensign-bearer of his regiment.

Such were the events that passed in the isle of St. Louis. The bad season, which, in these countries is so fatal to the Europeans, began to spread those numerous and dreadful maladies, which are so frequently accompanied by death. Let us now turn to the unhappy persons assembled in the camp at Daccard, not far from the village of that name, situated on the Peninsula of Cape Verd.

The French Governor, as we have already observed, being unable to enter into the possession of the colony, resolved to go and remain upon Cape Verd, which had been recognized to be the property of France. On the 26th of July the Argus brig, and a three-roasted vessel belonging to Messrs. Potin and Durécur, took on board the remains of the crew of the Medusa, that is, the men who had landed near Portendick, and some persons from the raft: those whose health were the most impaired remained in the hospital at St. Louis. These two vessels set sail; the Governor embarked on board that with three masts, and they arrived in the Goree Roads at nightfall. The next day the men were removed to Cape Verd: several soldiers and sailors had already repaired to it; these were those who had first crossed the desert: the flute, _la Loire_, had conveyed them thither some days before, with the commander of the frigate. It had also landed the troops it had on board, consisting of a company of colonial soldiers. The command of the camp was confided to Mr. de Fonsain, a respectable old man, who died there the victim of his zeal. What procured him this fatal distinction was the resolution taken by the Governor to go and reside in the island of Goree, to be able to superintend the camp, and the ships, and doubtless for the sake of his health.[47]

The shipwreck of the frigate having much reduced the number of the garrison, and occasioned the loss of a great quantity of provisions which she had on board, it was necessary to dispatch a vessel to France, to obtain assistance and fresh orders, on account of the difficulties that had been raised by the English Governor. The _Echo_ corvette was chosen for this purpose, which sailed on the 29th of July, in the evening. She had on board fifty-five of those who had been shipwrecked, three of whom were officers of the navy, the head surgeon, the accountant, three _élèves_ of the marine, and an under surgeon. After a passage of thirty-four days, this corvette anchored in Brest Roads. Mr. Savigny says, that during the six years he has been in the navy, he has never seen a vessel so well kept, and where the duty was done with so much regularity as on board the Echo. Let us return to the new establishment, which collected the remnant of us on Cape Verd.

A camp was formed there to receive them near a village inhabited by negroes, and called Daccard, as has been stated above. The natives of the country appeared to be pleased at seeing the French found an establishment on their coast. A few days after, the soldiers and sailors having had some misunderstanding, the latter were removed, and distributed between the Loire and the Argus.

The men who formed this camp were soon attacked with the diseases of the country. They were ill fed, and many of them had just endured long fatigues. Some fish, very bad rum, a little bread, or rice, such were their provisions. The chace also contributed to supply their wants; but the excursions which they made to procure game, frequently impaired their health. It was in the beginning of July that the bad season began to be felt. Cruel diseases attacked the unhappy French; who being exhausted by long privations, these terrible maladies spread with dreadful rapidity. Two thirds of them were attacked by putrid fevers, the rapid progress of which hardly allowed the physicians time, to administer that precious remedy, the produce of Peru, of which, by some mismanagement, the hospitals were nearly destitute.[A12] It was in these distressing circumstances that Mr. de Chaumareys came to take the command of the camp. Other measures were taken, and the hospitals were no longer in want of bark; but dysenteries, which frequently proved mortal, spread every where. On all sides there were none but unhappy men who gave themselves up to despair, and who sighed after their country: it was scarcely possible to find men enough for the duty of the camp. It is remarkable, that the crews of the vessels, which were in the roads of Goree, were hardly sensible of the influence of the bad season: it is true these crews were better fed, better clothed, and sheltered from the inclemency of the air; it is, besides, pretty certain, that this road is healthy, while the maladies of the country prevail on shore. Such was the situation of the camp of Daccard, when, on the 20th of November, the French Governor, was authorized, by Mr. Macarty, Governor General of the English settlements, to inhabit, on the former coast of the French possessions, the place which should suit him the best. Mr. Schmalz chose St. Louis.[48]

As we were neither of us at the camp of Daccard we have not been able to detail all that passed there, and to speak only of things, with which we are perfectly acquainted, we have been obliged to pass over this part of our narrative rather slightly.

Mr. Corréard, who had remained at the isle of St. Louis, hastened to pay his respects to the governor, when he came, in consequence of the permission of Mr. Macarty to inhabit that town. He relates, that on this occasion, the governor received him very well, pitied him much, and protested that if he had not been taken better care of, it was not his fault: Mr. Schmalz, allowed, that he had been the worst treated of all the shipwrecked persons, a thing which he had long known; "But, added he, your misfortunes are terminated, and henceforward you will want for nothing. I will send you, every day, very good rations of rice, meat, good wine, and excellent bread; besides, in a short time, I will put you to board with Mr. Monbrun, where you will be extremely well off." These last promises were as unavailing as the first had been. One day, however, in a fit of the fever, Mr. Corréard sent his servant to the governor with a note, in which he asked for a bottle of wine, and one of brandy; he, in fact, received what he had asked for; but when he was recovered from his delirium, he was going to send back these two bottles; however, on reflection, he thought it would not be proper, and he resolved to keep them. This is all that he was able to obtain from the French authorities, during five month's time that he remained at Saint Louis. It is even probable that he would have returned to France without having cost his government the smallest trifle, but for that fit of the fever, which deprived him of his reason, and during which, be made the request which he afterwards thought to be indiscreet and improper.

On the 23rd, or 24th of November, he again saw his two benefactors Major Peddy and Captain Campbell, who were about to depart on their great expedition to the interior of Africa.

At the moment of their separation, Major Peddy was eager to give to Mr. Corréard the last marks of true friendship, not only by his inexhaustible generosity, but also by good advice, which the event has rendered very remarkable, and which, for this reason, we think it necessary to mention here. The following is pretty nearly the discourse which the good Major addressed to Mr. Corréard at their last interview: "Since your intention," said he, "is to return to France, allow me, first of all, to give you some advice; I am persuaded that, if you will follow it, you will one day have reason to congratulate yourself on it. I know mankind, and without pretending exactly to guess how your Minister of the Marine will act towards you, I, nevertheless, think myself justified in presuming that you will obtain no relief from him; for, remember that a minister, who has committed a fault, never will suffer it to be mentioned to him, nor the persons or things presented to him, that might remind him of his want of ability;[49] therefore, believe me, my friend; instead of taking the road to Paris, take that to London; there you will find a number of philanthropits, who will assist you, and I can assure you that henceforward, you will want for nothing. Your misfortunes have been so very great that there is no Englishman who will not feel a pleasure in assisting you. Here, Sir, are 300 francs, which will suffice for the expences of your voyage, whether you go to Paris or to London. Reflect a moment on what I propose to you, and if your resolution is such as I wish you to take, let me know it immediately, that I may give you letters of recommendation to all my friends, as well as to my patrons, who will be truly happy to serve you."

Mr. Corréard was deeply affected by what he had just heard; the noble generosity of the excellent man to whom he already owed his life, and who entered with such perfect readiness, into all the details which he thought the most proper to finish his work, and insure the happiness of his poor friend, filled the heart of the latter with emotion and gratitude; yet, shall we say it? The advice to go to London, which the Major had just given him, had in it something that distressed him; he had not heard it without recollecting that he was a Frenchman, and some secret suggestions of self-love and national pride, told him that a Frenchman who had served his country, and to whom unparalleled misfortunes had given so many claims to the justice, as well as to the kindness of his own government, could not, without offering a kind of insult to his fellow countrymen, begin by going to England, and there throwing himself on the public compassion. These sentiments, therefore, suggested much more by his heart than by his understanding, dictated his answer to the Major.