Narrative of a Voyage to Senegal in 1816 Undertaken by Order of the French Government, Comprising an Account of the Shipwreck of the Medusa, the Sufferings of the Crew, and the Various Occurrences on Board the Raft, in the Desert of Zaara, at St. Louis, and at the Camp of Daccard. to Which Are Subjoined Observations Respecting the Agriculture of the Western Coast of Africa, from Cape Blanco to the Mouth of the Gambia.

Part 11

Chapter 114,043 wordsPublic domain

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.

It was not difficult for him to express, with warmth, all the gratitude which he owed him, for the noble and delicate manner in which he had sought him out, and relieved him in his misfortune.

"As for the pecuniary assistance which you still offer me," continued he, "I accept it with great pleasure, because benefits conferred by you, can only do honour to him who receives them, and because I hope, one day, to repay this debt with interest, to your countrymen, if I can meet with any who have need of my assistance. As for your other proposal, Major, allow me not to be of your opinion, and to have a little more confidence in the generosity of my government, as well as in that of my countrymen. If I acted otherwise, would you not be authorised to have a bad opinion of the French character and then, I appeal to yourself, generous Englishman, should not I have lost my claims to your esteem? Believe me, Major, France can also boast of a great number of men, whose patriotism and humanity may rival those which are so frequently found in Great Britain. Like you we are formed to the sentiments, to the duties which compose the true love of our country and of liberty. In returning to France, I firmly believe that I return into the bosom of a great family. But if, contrary to my expectation, it were possible that I should find myself, one day, abandoned by my government, as we were by some men who have nothing French about them but their dress; if France, which so often and so nobly welcomes the unfortunate of other countries, should refuse pity and assistance to her own children, then, Major, should I be obliged to seek, elsewhere, a happier fate and a new country: there is no doubt but that I should chuse that of my generous benefactors in preference to every other."

Major Peddy answered Mr. Corréard only by tears. The transport of patriotism, in which the latter had naturally indulged himself, had found, as may be supposed, the heart of the noble Briton, in harmony with that of him whom he protected; he felt a visible satisfaction, and an emotion which he did not attempt to dissemble. The Major closely embraced Mr. Corréard, bidding him farewell for ever; it seemed that this worthy man forsesaw his approaching end.

He was in fact destined to sink beneath the fatigues of the journey which he was about to undertake.

This expedition was composed, besides the Major, who commanded in chief, and the Captain, who was the second in command, and charged with the astronomical observations, of a young Physician, who was third in command; of Mr. Kummer, the naturalist (a Saxon naturalized in France); of a Mulatto, who acted as interpreter; of thirty white soldiers, almost all workmen; of a hundred black soldiers, and of about ten camels, a hundred and fifty horses, as many asses, and a hundred oxen to carry burdens; so that there were above a hundred and thirty men, and four hundred animals. All the equipages were embarked on board six small vessels, which ascended the Rio Grande to the distance of about fifty leagues up the country. The respectable commander of this expedition could not resist the influence of the climate; he was attacked by a cruel disease, which terminated his existence a few days after his departure from the island of St. Louis. Such men ought to be imperishable[50].

The English physicians finding that the health of Mr. Corréard far from improving, seemed on the contrary, to decline more and more, persuaded him to return to France. These gentlemen gave him a certificate of such a nature, that the French governor could not object to his departure; he received his request perfectly well, and two days after his passage was secured; but we shall see in the sequel what was the motive of this favorable attention to his request.