Perils and Captivity
by Charlotte-Adelaïde Dard · English · Gutenberg #22792 · 544,270 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Perils and Captivity
Author: Charlotte-Adelaïde Dard
Pierre-Raymond de Brisson
Jean Godin des Odonais
Translator: Patrick Maxwell
Release date: September 28, 2007 [eBook #22792]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22792
Credits: Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team
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PERILS AND CAPTIVITY;
COMPRISING
THE SUFFERINGS OF THE PICARD FAMILY
AFTER THE SHIPWRECK OF THE MEDUSA,
IN THE YEAR 1816.
NARRATIVE OF THE CAPTIVITY OF M. DE BRISSON,
IN THE YEAR 1785.
VOYAGE OF MADAME GODIN
ALONG THE RIVER OF THE AMAZONS,
IN THE YEAR 1770.
EDINBURGH:
PRINTED FOR CONSTABLE AND CO.
AND
THOMAS HURST AND CO. LONDON.
1827.
PREFACE.
The expeditions in which it is attempted to explore unknown and distant
oceans, are usually those which are most pregnant with adventure and
disaster. But land has its perils as well as sea; and the wanderer,
thrown into the unknown interior of the Continents of Africa and
America, through regions of burning sand and trackless forest, occupied
only by rude and merciless barbarians, encounters no less dreadful forms
of danger and suffering. Several such examples are presented in the
present volume, which exhibit peril, captivity, and 'hair-breadth
escape,' in some of their striking and tragical results.
The catastrophe of the Medusa is already known to the public, as one of
the most awful and appalling that ever befel any class of human beings.
The Shipwreck, and the dreadful scenes on the Raft, have been recorded
in the Narrative of Messrs Savigny and Correard. But the adventures of
the party who were cast ashore, and forced to find their way through the
African Desert, could be reported only imperfectly by those gentlemen
who were not eye-witnesses. This want is supplied in the first part of
the present volume, which contains the Narrative by Mad. Dard, then
Mademoiselle Picard, one of the suffering party, and for the translation
of which, the Editor is much indebted to Mr Maxwell.
There is in it so much feeling and good sense, mixed with an amiable and
girlish simplicity, as to render it particularly engaging. There is also
something peculiarly gratifying to an Englishman in the reflection, that
such disaster could not have befallen almost any British crew. It was
evidently nothing but the utter and thorough selfishness which actuated
the leaders and most of those on board both of the ship and the raft,
which rendered the affair at all very serious. A wise plan formed and
acted upon, with a view to the general good, would have enabled them,
without difficulty, to save the crew, the cargo, and perhaps the vessel.
The narrative of the shipwreck and journey is also combined with the
adventures of an interesting Family, related in such a manner as to give
them a strong hold in our sympathy.
The Second Part of the Volume has an affinity to that which has now been
mentioned. The western coast of Africa, lying along a great maritime and
commercial route, and being heavily encumbered by rocks and shoals, has
been the theatre of frequent shipwrecks; and Europeans, when cast
ashore, have always experienced the most dreadful fate from the inhuman
and bigotted natives. Several relations of this nature have been lately
published, but under somewhat of a romantic and dubious aspect. That of
Brisson, here inserted, appears the most authentic, and at the same time
to present the most interesting and varied train of vicissitudes; and
although it is already not unknown to the English reader, its
republication, we presume, will not be altogether unacceptable.
The Third Relation carries them into quite a different quarter of the
world--to the shores of the mighty River of the Amazons in South
America, and to the boundless forests and deserts by which it is
bordered. We shall not anticipate the narrative of what befel Madame
Godin in her voyage down this river; but it will not probably be denied
to present as extraordinary a series of perils, adventures, and escapes,
as are anywhere to be found on record. It is drawn from the account of
the Mission of M. de la Condamine, sent, in 1743, by the French
Government, along with M. Bouguer and other Academicians, to measure an
arc of the meridian, under the latitude of Quito, and thus ascertain the
figure of the earth. This forms a well known and respectable source; but
the Mission being directed almost exclusively to scientific objects, the
narrative may not perhaps have often met the eye of the general reader.
_Edinburgh, August 1827._
CONTENTS.
PAGE
I. THE SHIPWRECK OF THE MEDUSA xiii
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xvii
AUTHOR'S PREFACE xix
CHAPTER I.
M. Picard makes his first Voyage to Africa,
leaving at Paris his Wife and two young
Daughters--Death of Madame Picard--The Children
taken home to the House of their
Grandfather--Return of M. Picard after Nine years
Absence--He marries again, and Departs a short
while after, with all his Family, for
Senegal--Description of the Journey between Paris
and Rochefort 19
CHAPTER II.
Departure from Rochefort--The Picard Family Embark
in the Medusa Frigate--Account of the Voyage till
they reach the Arguin Bank 28
CHAPTER III.
The Medusa Frigate runs aground on the Arguin
Bank--Description of the Shipwreck--A Raft is
constructed--They swear not to abandon those who
wish to go upon it 35
CHAPTER IV.
The Helm of the Medusa is broken by the Waves--It
is determined to abandon the Wreck of the
Frigate--The Military are put upon the Raft--The
greater part of the Officers go into the
Boats--The Picard Family are abandoned upon the
Medusa--Proceedings of M. Picard to get his Family
into a Boat 42
CHAPTER V.
Departure of the Boats--They seem desirous of
towing the Raft--Generous Conduct of a Naval
Officer--The Abandonment of the Raft--Despair of
the Wretches who are left to the fury of the
Waves--Reproaches of M. Picard to the Authors of
the Abandoning the Raft--Description of the Small
Fleet which the Boats formed--Frightful Fate, and
Deplorable End of the greater part of the
Individuals on the Raft 48
CHAPTER VI.
The Chiefs of the Expedition order the Boats to
take the Route for Senegal--Objections of some
Generous Officers--The Shores of the Desert of
Sahara are discovered--The Sailors of the Pinnace
are desirous of Landing--The Boat in which the
Picard Family is leaks much--Unheard-of
Sufferings--Terrible Situation of the
Family--Frightful Tempest--Despair of the
Passengers 58
CHAPTER VII.
After the Frightful Tempest, the Boat, in which
are the Picard Family, is still desirous of taking
the Route to Senegal--Cruel Alternative to which
the Passengers are Driven--It is at last decided
to Gain the Coast--Description of the Landing--The
Transports of the shipwrecked 65
CHAPTER VIII.
The shipwrecked Party form themselves into a
Caravan to go by Land to Senegal--They find Water
in the Desert--Some People of the Caravan propose
to Abandon the Picard Family--Generous Conduct of
an Old Officer of Infantry--Discovery of an Oasis
of Wild Purslain--First Repast of the Caravan in
the Desert--They Fall in with a Small Camp of
Arabs--M. Picard purchases Two Kids--The Moors
offer their Services to them--Arrival at last at
the Great Camp of the Moors--M. Picard is
recognised by an Arab--Generous Proceeding of that
Arab--Sudden Departure of the Caravan--They hire
Asses 71
CHAPTER IX.
The Caravan regains the Shore--A Sail is
discovered--It brings Assistance to the
Caravan--Great Generosity of an
Englishman--Continuation of their
Journey--Extraordinary Heat--They Kill a
Bullock--Repast of the Caravan--At last they
discover the River Senegal--Joy of the
Unfortunate--M. Picard receives Assistance from
some Old Friends at Senegal--Hospitality of the
Inhabitants of the Island of St Louis towards
every Person of the Caravan 83
CHAPTER X.
The English refuse to cede the Colony of Senegal
to the French--The whole of the French Expedition
are obliged to go and encamp on the Peninsula of
Cape Verd--The Picard Family obtain leave of the
English Governor to remain at Senegal--Poverty of
that Family--Assistance which they
receive--Enterprise of M. Picard--Restoration of
the Colony to the French--Description of Senegal
and its Environs 98
CHAPTER XI.
The Sickness and Death of Madame Picard break in
upon the Happiness of the Family--M. Picard turns
his Views to Commerce--Bad Success of his
Enterprise--The Distracted Affairs of the Colony
disgust Him--The Cultivation of the Island of
Safal--Several Merchants protest against M. Picard
applying himself to Commerce--Departure of the
Expedition to the Island of Galam--M. Picard is
deprived of his Employment as Attorney--His eldest
Daughter goes to live in the Island of Safal with
two of her Brothers 112
CHAPTER XII.
Miss Picard lives in the Island of Safal--Her
Manner of living--Sufferings she endured--She
gathers Flowers which contain a deleterious
Poison--Her two Brothers fall Sick--They are
conveyed to Senegal--Miss Picard, overcome with
Melancholy, also falls Sick--State in which she is
found--A Negro boils for her an old
Vulture--Return of Miss Picard to Senegal--Her
Convalescence--Her Return to the Island of
Safal--M. Picard goes there to Live with all his
Family--Description of the Furniture of the
African Cottage--Country Life--Comfort of their
Fireside--Walks of the Family--Little Pleasures
which they enjoy 120
CHAPTER XIII.
Fresh Misfortunes--Desertion of the Working
Negroes--Return of M. Schmaltz to Senegal--Hope
Destroyed--Governor Schmaltz refuses all kind of
Assistance to the Picard Family--Tigers Devour the
Household Dog--Terror of Miss Picard--Bad
Harvest--Cruel Prospect of the Family--Increase of
Misfortunes--Some generous Persons offer
Assistance to M. Picard 131
CHAPTER XIV.
The Picard Family, tormented by the Musquitoes,
the Serpents, and Tigers, determine to remove
their Cottage to the Banks of the River--The
Poultry is discovered by the wild
Beasts--Miserable Existence of that
Family--Humiliations which it suffered--Their
Cottage is overturned by a Tempest--The labouring
Negroes form a Scheme to desert 140
CHAPTER XV.
The Colony of Senegal at War with the Moors--The
Picard Family obliged to abandon the Island of
Safal--They go to find a Home at St Louis--M.
Picard hires an Apartment for his Family and
returns to Safal with the eldest of his Sons--The
whole unfortunate Family fall sick--Return of M.
Picard to Senegal--Death of young Laura--He wishes
to return to his Island--The Children oppose
it--He falls dangerously ill--The worthy People of
the Colony are indignant at the Governor for the
State of Misery in which he has left the Picard
Family 150
CHAPTER XVI.
M. Dard, whom contrary Winds had detained ten Days
in the Port of St. Louis, comes on Shore to see M.
Picard--Agony of M. Picard--His last Words--His
Death--Despair of his Children--M. Thomas kindly
takes charge of Picard's Family--The eldest of the
Ladies goes and mourns over the Grave of her
Father--Her Resignation--M. Dard disembarks, and
adopts the Wrecks of the Picard Family--M. Dard
marries Miss Picard, and at last returns to France 159
APPENDIX.
Substance abridged from MM. Correard and Savigny,
of what took place on the Raft during thirteen
days before the Sufferers were taken up by the
Argus Brig 169
Notes 193
II. NARRATIVE OF THE CAPTIVITY OF M. DE BRISSON IN
THE DESERTS OF AFRICA 199
III. VOYAGE OF MAD. GODIN ALONG THE RIVER OF THE
AMAZONS 307
I.
HISTORY OF THE SUFFERINGS AND MISFORTUNES
OF THE PICARD FAMILY,
AFTER THE SHIPWRECK OF THE MEDUSA,
ON THE WESTERN COAST OF AFRICA,
IN THE YEAR 1816.
FROM THE FRENCH OF MADAME DARD,
ONE OF THE SUFFERERS.
BY P. MAXWELL, ESQ.
THIS TRANSLATION
OF MADAME DARD'S NARRATIVE
OF HER SHIPWRECK AND MISFORTUNES,
IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED
TO MISS AGNES MALCOLM,
BY HER AFFECTIONATE AND GRATEFUL COUSIN,
THE TRANSLATOR.
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.
The following pages are translated from the "African Cottage," of Mad.
Dard.[1] They contain no romance, but a well authenticated story,
corroborated by the previous Narrative of MM. Correard and Savigny.
Those gentlemen have detailed their sufferings on the fatal raft, after
the disastrous shipwreck of the Medusa frigate; but the account
concerning those who escaped, by aid of their boats, to the shores of
Sahara, deficient in their recital, is supplied by Madame Dard, who was
present at all the scenes she relates. Interwoven with the Narrative, is
an interesting account of the Picard Family, whose wrongs cannot fail to
excite pity, and to engage those feeling hearts in her favour, to whom
the fair authoress has addressed the story of her misfortunes.
[Footnote 1: "La Chaumiere Africaine; ou, Histoire d'une Famille
Francaise jetee sur la cote occidentale de l'Afrique, a la suite
du naufrage de la Fregate la Meduse. Par Mme. Dard, nee Charlotte
Adelaide Picard, ainee de cette famille, et l'une des naufrages de
la Meduse." Dijon. 1824, 12mo.]
There is not, on the records of misery, an instance of more severe and
protracted suffering; and I trust there is not, nor ever will be any,
where human nature was more foully outraged and disgraced. There are,
nevertheless, some pleasing traits of character in the story, and, I am
proud to say, some of the brightest of them belong to our own nation.
These present a beautiful relief to the selfishness and brutality which
so much abound in the dark picture; and are, to our minds, the green
spots of the Desert--the fountain and the fruit-tree--as they were in
very truth, to the poor wretches they assisted with such genuine
singleness of heart.
To the end of the Narrative I have subjoined an Appendix, translated and
abridged from the work of MM. Correard and Savigny, detailing at greater
length the sufferings of those who were exposed upon the Raft. I have
also added some Notes, extracted from several Authors, illustrative of
various matters mentioned in the course of the Narrative.
It may be satisfactory for some readers to know, that, in 1824, Madame
Dard was living with her husband in comfort at Bligny-sous-Beaune, a
short distance from Dijon. I have lately seen in a French Catalogue, a
Dictionary and Grammar of the Woloff and Bambara languages, by M. J.
Dard, Bachelier des Sciences, Ancien Instituteur de l'Ecole du Senegal,
brought out under the auspices of the French Government.
PATRICK MAXWELL.
_Edinburgh, July 1827._
AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
Those who have read the Account of the Shipwreck of the Medusa, by MM.
Savigny and Correard, are already acquainted with the Picard family.
Attracted to Senegal by a faint prospect of advantage, my father, head
of that unfortunate family, could not, in spite of a good constitution
and the strength of his spirits, resist that destiny, from the mortal
influence of which none of us save three escaped out of a family of
nine. On his deathbed, he expressed to me the desire that our
misfortunes should not remain unknown. This then became my duty, and a
duty sacred to the public. I feel a pleasure in fulfilling it, and
consolation in the thought, that no feeling mind will read the story of
our misfortunes without being affected; and that those who persecuted us
will at least experience some regret.
The recital of the shipwreck of the Medusa was necessary, as much to
explain the origin of our misfortunes, as the cause of the connexion
between that disastrous event, and the terrible journey in the Desert of
Sahara, by which we at last reached Senegal. It will furnish me, also,
with an opportunity of adverting to some errors in the work of Messrs
Savigny and Correard.
It only now remains for me to crave the indulgence of the reader for my
style. I trust such will not be refused to one who has dared to take the
pen, only in compliance with a father's dying request.
SHIPWRECK OF THE MEDUSA.
CHAPTER I.
M. PICARD MAKES HIS FIRST VOYAGE TO AFRICA, LEAVING AT PARIS HIS
WIFE AND TWO YOUNG DAUGHTERS--DEATH OF MADAME PICARD--THE
CHILDREN TAKEN HOME TO THE HOUSE OF THEIR GRANDFATHER--RETURN OF
M. PICARD AFTER NINE YEARS ABSENCE--HE MARRIES AGAIN, AND DEPARTS
A SHORT WHILE AFTER, WITH ALL HIS FAMILY, FOR
SENEGAL--DESCRIPTION OF THE JOURNEY BETWEEN PARIS AND ROCHEFORT.
About the beginning of 1800, my father solicited and obtained the
situation of resident attorney at Senegal, on the west coast of Africa.
My mother was then nursing my youngest sister, and could not be
persuaded to expose us, at so tender an age, to the fatigue and danger
of so long a voyage. At this period I was not quite two years old.
It was then resolved that my father should go alone, and that we should
join him on the following year; but my mother's hopes were disappointed,
war having rendered impossible all communication with our colonies. In
despair, at a separation which placed her nearly two thousand leagues
from her husband, and ignorant how long it might continue, she soon
after fell into a languid condition; and death deprived us of her, at
the end of five years of suffering. My grandfather, at whose house we
had hitherto lived, now became both father and mother to us; and I owe
it to the good old man to say, that his care and attention soon made us
forget we were orphans. Too young to reflect, that the condition of
happiness which we enjoyed under his guardianship would ever have an
end, we lived without a care for the future, and our years glided on in
perfect tranquillity.
Thus were we living when, in 1809, the English captured the colony of
Senegal, and permitted our father to return to his family. But what a
change did he meet with on his arrival at Paris! Wife, home, furniture,
friends, had all disappeared; and nothing remained but two young
daughters, who refused to acknowledge him for their father: so much were
our young minds habituated to see and love but one in the world--the
worthy old man who had watched over our infancy.
In 1810, our father thought fit to marry a second time; but a great
misfortune befel his children in the death of their grandfather. Our
tears were scarcely dry, when we were conducted home to her who had
become our second mother. We would hardly acknowledge her. Our sorrow
was excessive, and the loss we had sustained irreparable. But they
strove to comfort us; dresses, playthings, amusements in abundance, were
given to us to obliterate the loss of our best friend. In this state of
perfect happiness we were living, when the armies of the Allies entered
Paris in 1814.
France having had the good fortune to recover her King, and with him the
blessing of peace, an expedition was fitted out at Brest to go and
resume possession of Senegal, which had been restored to us. My father
was instantly reinstated in his place of resident attorney, and went in
the month of November to Brest.
As our family had become more numerous since the second marriage of my
father, he could only take with him our stepmother and the younger
children. My sister Caroline and myself were placed in a boarding school
at Paris, until the Minister of Marine and the Colonies would grant us a
passage; but the events of 1815 caused the expedition to Senegal to be
abandoned, while it was still in the harbour of Brest, and all the
officers dismissed. My father then returned to Paris, leaving at Brest
my stepmother, who was then in an unfit condition for travelling.
In 1816, a new expedition was fitted out. My father was ordered to
repair to Rochefort, whence it was to set off. He took measures also for
taking along with him his wife, who had remained at Brest during the
"hundred days." The design of our accompanying him to Africa, obliged
him to address a new petition to the Minister of Marine, praying him to
grant us all a passage, which he obtained.
The 23d of May was the day on which we were to quit the capital, our
relations and friends. In the meanwhile, my sister and myself left the
boarding school where we had been placed, and went to take farewell of
all those who were dear to us. One cousin, who loved us most tenderly,
could not hear of our approaching departure without shedding tears; and
as it was impossible for her to change our destiny, she offered to share
it. Immediately she appeared before the minister, and M. le Baron
Portal, struck with a friendship which made her encounter the dangers of
so long a voyage, granted her request.
At last, a beautiful morning announced to us the afflicting moment when
we were to quit Paris. The postilion, who was to convey us to Rochefort,
was already at the door of the house in which we lived, to conduct us to
his carriage, which waited for us at the Orleans gate. Immediately an
old hackney coach appeared; my father stept into it, and in an instant
it was filled. The impatient coachman cracked his whip, sparks flashed
from the horse's feet, and the street of Lille, which we had just
quitted, was soon far behind us. On arriving before the garden of the
Luxumbourg, the first rays of the morning's sun darted fiercely through
the foliage, as if to say, you forsake the zephyrs in quitting this
beautiful abode. We reached the Observatory, and in an instant passed
the gate d'Enfer. There, as yet for a moment to breathe the air of the
capital, we alighted at the Hotel du Pantheon, where we found our
carriage. After a hasty breakfast, the postilion arranged our trunks,
and off again we set. It was nearly seven in the morning when we quitted
the gates of Paris, and we arrived that evening at the little village
of d'Etampes, where our landlord, pressing us to refresh ourselves,
almost burned his inn in making us an omelet with rotten eggs. The
flames, ascending the old chimney, soon rose to the roof of the house,
but they succeeded in extinguishing them. We were, however, regaled with
a smoke which made us shed tears. It was broad day when we quitted
d'Etampes; and our postilion, who had spent the greater part of the
night in drinking with his comrades, was something less than polite. We
reproached him, but he made light of the circumstance; for, in the
evening, he was completely drunk. On the twenty-fifth of May, at ten in
the morning, my father told me we were already thirty-two leagues from
Paris. Thirty-two leagues! cried I; alas, so far! Whilst I made this
reflection, we arrived at Orleans. Here we remained about three hours to
refresh ourselves as well as our horses. We could not leave the place
without visiting the statue raised in honour of Joan of Arc, that
extraordinary woman, to whom the monarchy once owed its safety.
On leaving Orleans, the Loire, and the fertile pastures through which it
rolls its waters, excited our admiration. We had on our right the
beautiful vineyards of Beaugency. The road, as far as Amboise, is
delightful. I then began to think, that Paris and its environs might
perhaps be forgotten, if the country of Senegal, to which we were going,
was as fine as that through which we were journeying. We slept at
Amboise, which, being situated at the confluence of the Loire and the
Maise, presents a most agreeable appearance.
When we set off, the sun began to show us verdant groves, watered by the
majestic course of the river. His disk looked like a glorious lustre
suspended in the azure vault of heaven. Our road was studded on both
sides with lofty poplars, which seemed to shoot their pyramidal heads
into the clouds. On our left was the Loire, and on our right a large
rivulet, whose crystal waters every where reflected the bright beams of
the sun. The birds, with their songs, celebrated the beauty of the day,
whilst the dews, in the form of pearls, quivering fell from the tender
boughs, fanned by the zephyrs. A thousand picturesque objects presented
themselves to our view. On the one hand were delightful groves, the
sweet flowers of which perfumed the air we breathed; on the other, a
clear fountain sprang bubbling from the crevice of a rock, and, after
falling from the top of a little hill among a tuft of flowers, bent its
devious course to join the waters of the river. More distant, a small
wood of filbert trees served as a retreat to the ringdoves who cooed,
and the nightingales who chanted the spring.
We enjoyed this truly enchanting spectacle till we arrived at Tours. But
as our route from Orleans had been diversified and agreeable, from the
latter place to Rochefort it was monotonous and tiresome. However, the
towns of Chatellerault, Poitiers, and Niort made a slight change in the
sameness of the scene. From Niort to Rochefort the road was nearly
impassable. We were frequently obliged to alight from the carriage, in
order to allow the horses to drag it out from the deep ruts which we
met. In approaching to a hamlet, named Charente, we stuck so fast in the
mud, that even after removing the trunks and other baggage, we found it
almost next to an impossibility to drag it out. We were in the midst of
a wood, and no village within view. It was then resolved to wait till
some good soul would be passing, who would assist to extricate us from
our embarrassment. After vainly waiting a long hour for this expected
succour, the first people who appeared were travelling merchants, who
would not stay on any account to give us assistance. At length we saw a
young lady upon a little path, which was at the extremity of the wood,
walking with a book in her hand. My father instantly ran towards her,
and acquainted her with our situation. This lady, far from acting like
the travellers we formerly met, went to an adjoining field where were
some farmers at work, and requested them to go with their oxen to free
us from our jeopardy, and returned herself with them. When our carriage
was put in a condition to continue our route, she invited us to refresh
ourselves in her country seat, situated in the middle of the wood. We
then took the cross-way, and returned with our carriage at the instance
of the amiable lady, who received us in the most affable and generous
manner. She offered us at first some pears, which were already very
good; after which we were served with an exquisite collation, at the end
of which a child, beautiful as the loves, presented us with a basket
filled with the fairest flowers of the spring. We accepted the gift of
Flora, in testimony of our regard for our generous landlady and her
charming child. Traversing after that the park of our hospitable
hostess, we rejoined the route to Rochefort.
In paying this just tribute of remembrance to the offices of that
person who gave us so great assistance, I cannot resist the pleasure of
mentioning her name. She is the wife of M. Telotte, superior officer of
the general magazine at Rochefort.
Already the masts of the ships appeared in the horizon, and we heard in
the distance a hollow and confused sound, like that made by a multitude
of people engaged in various occupations. On approaching nearer to
Rochefort, we found that the tumult we heard was caused by the labourers
in the wood-yards and the galley-slaves, who, painfully dragging their
fetters, attended to the various labours of the port. Having entered the
town, the first picture which presented itself to our eyes was that of
these unfortunate creatures, who, coupled two and two by enormous
chains, are forced to carry the heaviest burdens. It may be mentioned,
in passing, that the sight is not very attracting to young ladies who
have never been out of Paris; for, in spite of all the repugnance we can
have for those who are condemned by the laws to live apart from society,
we can never look with indifference on that crowd of thinking beings,
degraded, by following their vicious actions, to a level with the beasts
of burden.
My mind was yet occupied with these painful reflections, when my father,
opening the door of the carriage, requested us to follow him into an
hotel in the street Dauphine, where already were our stepmother and our
young brothers and sisters, who had returned with her from Brest. Soon
our numerous family were again united. What transports of joy, what
saluting and embracing! O! there is nothing comparable to the pleasure
of meeting with those we love after a long absence!
My father went to visit the officers who were to make the voyage to
Senegal along with us. My step-mother busied herself in preparing
supper, and my sister Caroline, my cousin, and myself, went to sleep;
for any farther exercise but ill accorded with the fatigue we had
already undergone; otherwise we could easily have sat till supper, after
having eat of the good things we had had at the farm of Charente.
We spent the morrow, the 3d of June, in running about the town. In the
space of two hours we had seen every thing worth seeing. What a fine
thing a maritime town is for a maker of romances! But as I have neither
talents nor desire to write one, and as I have promised to the reader to
adhere strictly to the truth, I will content myself by telling him, that
in nine days I was tired of Rochefort.
CHAPTER II.
DEPARTURE FROM ROCHEFORT--THE PICARD FAMILY EMBARK IN THE MEDUSA
FRIGATE--ACCOUNT OF THE VOYAGE TILL THEY REACH THE ARGUIN BANK.
Early on the morning of the 12th of June, we were on our way to the
boats that were to convey us on board the Medusa, which was riding at
anchor off the island of Aix, distant about four leagues from Rochefort.
The field through which we passed was sown with corn. Wishing, before I
left our beautiful France, to make my farewell to the flowers, and,
whilst our family went leisurely forward to the place where we were to
embark upon the Charente, I crossed the furrows, and gathered a few
blue-bottles and poppies. We soon arrived at the place of embarkation,
where we found some of our fellow-passengers, who, like myself, seemed
casting a last look to Heaven, whilst they were yet on the French soil.
We embarked, however, and left these happy shores. In descending the
tortuous course of the Charente, contrary winds so impeded our progress,
that we did not reach the Medusa till the morrow, having taken
twenty-four hours in sailing four leagues. At length we mounted the
deck of the Medusa, of painful memory. When we got on board, we found
our births not provided for us, consequently were obliged to remain
indiscriminately together till next day. Our family, which consisted of
nine persons, was placed in a birth near the main deck. As the wind was
still contrary, we lay at anchor for seventeen days.
On the 17th of June, at four in the morning, we set sail, as did the
whole expedition, which consisted of the Medusa frigate, the Loire
store-ship, the Argus brig, and the Echo corvette. The wind being very
favourable, we soon lost sight of the green fields of l'Aunis. At six in
the morning, however, the island of Rhe still appeared above the
horizon. We fixed our eyes upon it with regret, to salute for the last
time our dear country. Now, imagine the ship born aloft, and surrounded
by huge mountains of water, which at one moment tossed it in the air,
and at another plunged it into the profound abyss. The waves, raised by
a stormy north-west breeze, came dashing in a horrible manner against
the sides of our ship. I know not whether it was a presentiment of the
misfortune which menaced us that had made me pass the preceding night in
the most cruel inquietude. In my agitation, I sprang upon deck, and
contemplated with horror the frigate winging its way upon the waters.
The winds pressed against the sails with great violence, strained and
whistled among the cordage; and the great hulk of wood seemed to split
every time the surge broke upon its sides. On looking a little out to
sea I perceived, at no great distance on our right, all the other ships
of the expedition, which quieted me much. Towards ten in the morning
the wind changed; immediately an appalling cry was heard, concerning
which the passengers, as well as myself, were equally ignorant. The
whole crew were in motion. Some climbed the rope ladders, and seemed to
perch on the extremities of the yards; others mounted to the highest
parts of the mast; these bellowing and pulling certain cordages in
cadence; those crying, swearing, whistling, and filling the air with
barbarous and unknown sounds. The officer on duty, in his turn, roaring
out these words, starboard! larboard! hoist! luff! tack! which the
helmsman repeated in the same tone. All this hubbub, however, produced
its effect: the yards were turned on their pivots, the sails set, the
cordage tightened, and the unfortunate sea-boys having received their
lesson, descended to the deck. Every thing remained tranquil, except
that the waves still roared, and the masts continued their creaking.
However the sails were swelled, the winds less violent, though
favourable, and the mariner, whilst he caroled his song, said we had a
noble voyage.
During several days we did indeed enjoy a delightful passage. All the
ships of the expedition still kept together; but at length the breeze
became changeable, and they all disappeared. The Echo, however, still
kept in sight, and persisted in accompanying us, as if to guide us on
our route. The wind becoming more favourable, we held due south, sailing
at the rate of sixty-two leagues a day. The sea was so fine, and our
journey so rapid, that I began to think it nearly as agreeable to travel
by sea as by land; but my illusion was not of long duration.
On the 28th of June, at six in the morning, we discovered the Peak of
Teneriffe, towards the south, the summit of whose cone seemed lost among
the clouds. We were then distant about two leagues, which we made in
less than a quarter of an hour. At ten o'clock we brought to before the
town of St Croix. Several officers got leave to go on shore to procure
refreshments.
Whilst these gentlemen were away, a certain passenger, member of the
self-instituted Philanthropic Society of Cape Verd,[2] suggested that it
was very dangerous to remain where we were, adding that he was well
acquainted with the country, and had navigated in all these latitudes.
M. Le Roy Lachaumareys, Captain of the Medusa, believing the pretended
knowledge of the intriguing Richefort, gave him the command of the
frigate. Various officers of the navy, represented to the captain how
shameful it was to put such confidence in a stranger, and that they
would never obey a man who had no character as a commander. The captain
despised these wise remonstrances; and, using his authority, commanded
the pilots, and all the crew, to obey Richefort; saying he was king,
since the orders of the king were, that they should obey him.
Immediately the impostor, desirous of displaying his great skill in
navigation, made them change the route for no purpose but that of
showing his skill in manoeuvring a ship. Every instant he changed the
tack, went, came, and returned, and approached the very reefs, as if to
brave them. In short, he beat about so much, that the sailors at length
refused to obey him, saying boldly that he was a vile impostor. But it
was done. The man had gained the confidence of Captain Lachaumareys,
who, ignorant of navigation himself, was doubtless glad to get some one
to undertake his duty. But it must be told, and told, too, in the face
of all Europe, that this blind and inept confidence was the sole cause
of the loss of the Medusa frigate, as well as of all the crimes
consequent upon it.
[Footnote 2: This Society, which was so ill named _Philanthropic_,
was composed of sixty individuals of all nations, among whom
figured Hebrard, Correard,[3] Richefort, &c. They had obtained
from government a free passage, and authority to go and cultivate
the peninsula of Cape Verd; but that new colony afterwards ended
like that of Champ-d'Asile.]
[Footnote 3: Not that Correard, the coadjutor of Savigny,
mentioned in the Author's preface. _Trans._]
Towards three in the afternoon, those officers who had gone on shore in
the morning, returned on board loaded with vegetables, fruits, and
flowers. They laughed heartily at the manoeuvres that had been going on
during their absence, which doubtless did not please the captain, who
flattered himself he had already found in his pilot Richefort _a good
and able seaman_: such were his words. At four in the afternoon we took
a southerly direction. M. Richefort then beaming with exultation for
having, as he said, saved the Medusa from certain shipwreck, continued
to give his pernicious counsels to Captain Lachaumareys, persuading him
he had been often employed to explore the shores of Africa, and that he
was perfectly well acquainted with the Arguin Bank. The journals of the
29th and 30th afford nothing very remarkable.
The hot winds from the desert of Sahara began to be felt, which told us
we approached the tropic; indeed, the sun at noon seemed suspended
perpendicularly above our heads, a phenomenon which few among us had
ever seen.
On the 1st of July, we recognised Cape Bojador, and then saw the shores
of Sahara. Towards ten in the morning, they set about the frivolous
ceremony which the sailors have invented for the purpose of exacting
something from those passengers who have never crossed the line. During
the ceremony, the frigate doubled Cape Barbas, hastening to its
destruction. Captain Lachaumareys very good humouredly presided at this
species of baptism, whilst his dear Richefort promenaded the forecastle,
and looked with indifference upon a shore bristling with dangers.
However that may be, all passed on well; nay, it may be even said that
the farce was well played off. But the route which we pursued soon made
us forget the short-lived happiness we had experienced. Every one began
to observe the sudden change which had taken place in the colour of the
sea, as we ran upon the bank in shallow water. A general murmur rose
among the passengers and officers of the navy;--they were far from
partaking in the blind confidence of the captain.
On the 2d of July, at five in the morning, the captain was persuaded
that a large cloud, which was discovered in the direction of Cape
Blanco, was that Cape itself. After this pretended discovery, they ought
to have steered to the west, for about fifty leagues, to have gained sea
room to double with certainty the Arguin Bank; moreover, they ought to
have conformed to the instructions which the Minister of Marine had
given to the ships which set out for Senegal. The other part of the
expedition, from having followed these instructions arrived in safety at
their destination. During the preceding night, the Echo, which had
hitherto accompanied the Medusa, made several signals, but being replied
to with contempt, abandoned us. Towards ten in the morning, the danger
which threatened us was again represented to the Captain, and he was
strongly urged, if he wished to avoid the Arguin Bank, to take a
westerly course; but the advice was again neglected, and he despised the
predictions. One of the officers of the frigate, from having wished to
expose the intriguing Richefort, was put under arrest. My father, who
had already twice made the voyage to Senegal, and who with various
persons was persuaded they were going right upon the bank, also made his
observations to the unfortunate pilot. His advice was no better received
than those of Messrs Reynaud, Espiau, Maudet, &c. Richefort, in the
sweetest tone, replied, "My dear, we know our business; attend to yours,
and be quiet. I have already twice passed the Arguin Bank; I have sailed
upon the Red Sea, and you see I am not drowned." What reply could be
made to such a preposterous speech? My father, seeing it was impossible
to get our route changed, resolved to trust to Providence to free us
from our danger, and descended to our cabin, where he sought to
dissipate his fears in the oblivion of sleep.
CHAPTER III.
THE MEDUSA FRIGATE RUNS AGROUND ON THE ARGUIN BANK--DESCRIPTION
OF THE SHIPWRECK--A RAFT IS CONSTRUCTED--THEY SWEAR NOT TO
ABANDON THOSE WHO WISH TO GO UPON IT.
At noon, on the 2d of July, soundings were taken. M. Maudet, ensign of
the watch, was convinced we were upon the edge of the Arguin Bank. The
Captain said to him, as well as to every one, that there was no cause of
alarm. In the mean while, the wind blowing with great violence, impelled
us nearer and nearer to the danger which menaced us. A species of stupor
overpowered all our spirits, and every one preserved a mournful silence,
as if they were persuaded we would soon touch the bank. The colour of
the water entirely changed, a circumstance even remarked by the ladies.
About three in the afternoon, being in 19 deg. 30' north latitude, and 19 deg.
45' west longitude, an universal cry was heard upon deck. All declared
they saw sand rolling among the ripple of the sea. The Captain in an
instant ordered to sound. The line gave eighteen fathoms; but on a
second sounding it only gave six. He at last saw his error, and
hesitated no longer on changing the route, but it was too late. A strong
concussion told us the frigate had struck. Terror and consternation were
instantly depicted on every face. The crew stood motionless; the
passengers in utter despair. In the midst of this general panic, cries
of vengeance were heard against the principal author of our misfortunes,
wishing to throw him overboard; but some generous persons interposed,
and endeavoured to calm their spirits, by diverting their attention to
the means of our safety. The confusion was already so great, that M.
Poinsignon, commandant of a troop, struck my sister Caroline a severe
blow, doubtless thinking it was one of his soldiers. At this crisis my
father was buried in profound sleep, but he quickly awoke, the cries and
the tumult upon deck having informed him of our misfortunes. He poured
out a thousand reproaches on those whose ignorance and boasting had been
so disastrous to us. However, they set about the means of averting our
danger. The officers, with an altered voice, issued their orders,
expecting every moment to see the ship go in pieces. They strove to
lighten her, but the sea was very rough and the current strong. Much
time was lost in doing nothing; they only pursued half measures, and all
of them unfortunately failed.
When it was discovered that the danger of the Medusa was not so great as
was at first supposed, various persons proposed to transport the troops
to the island of Arguin, which was conjectured to be not far from the
place where we lay aground. Others advised to take us all successively
to the coast of the desert of Sahara, by the means of our boats, and
with provisions sufficient to form a caravan, to reach the island of
Saint Louis, at Senegal. The events which afterwards ensued proved this
plan to have been the best, and which would have been crowned with
success; unfortunately it was not adopted. M. Schmaltz, the governor,
suggested the making of a raft of a sufficient size to carry two hundred
men, with provisions: which latter plan was seconded by the two officers
of the frigate, and put in execution.
The fatal raft was then begun to be constructed, which would, they said,
carry provisions for every one. Masts, planks, boards, cordage, were
thrown over board. Two officers were charged with the framing of these
together. Large barrels were emptied and placed at the angles of the
machine, and the workmen were taught to say, that the passengers would
be in greater security there, and more at their ease, than in the boats.
However, as it was forgotten to erect rails, every one supposed, and
with reason, that those who had given the plan of the raft, had had no
design of embarking upon it themselves.
When it was completed, the two chief officers of the frigate publicly
promised, that all the boats would tow it to the shore of the Desert;
and, when there, stores of provisions and fire-arms would be given us to
form a caravan to take us all to Senegal. Why was not this plan
executed? Why were these promises, sworn before the French flag, made in
vain? But it is necessary to draw a veil over the past. I will only add,
that if these promises had been fulfilled, every one would have been
saved, and that, in spite of the detestable egotism of certain
personages, humanity would not now have had to deplore the scenes of
horror consequent on the wreck of the Medusa!
On the 3d of July, the efforts were renewed to disengage the frigate,
but without success. We then prepared to quit her. The sea became very
rough, and the wind blew with great violence. Nothing now was heard but
the plaintive and confused cries of a multitude, consisting of more than
four hundred persons, who, seeing death before their eyes, deplored
their hard fate in bitter lamentations. On the 4th, there was a glimpse
of hope. At the hour the tide flowed, the frigate, being considerably
lightened by all that had been thrown over board, was found nearly
afloat; and it is very certain, if on that day they had thrown the
artillery into the water, the Medusa would have been saved; but M.
Lachaumareys said, he could not thus sacrifice the King's cannon, as if
the frigate did not belong to the King also. However, the sea ebbed, and
the ship sinking into the sand deeper than ever, made them relinquish
that on which depended our last ray of hope.
On the approach of night, the fury of the winds redoubled, and the sea
became very rough. The frigate then received some tremendous
concussions, and the water rushed into the hold in the most terrific
manner, but the pumps would not work. We had now no alternative but to
abandon her for the frail boats, which any single wave would overwhelm.
Frightful gulfs environed us; mountains of water raised their liquid
summits in the distance. How were we to escape so many dangers? Whither
could we go? What hospitable land would receive us on its shores? My
thoughts, then reverted to our beloved country. I did not regret Paris,
but I could have esteemed myself happy to have been yet in the marshes
on the road to Rochefort. Then starting suddenly from my reverie, I
exclaimed: "O terrible condition! that black and boundless sea resembles
the eternal night which will ingulf us! All those who surround me seem
yet tranquil; but that fatal calm will soon be succeeded by the most
frightful torments. Fools, what had we to find in Senegal, to make us
trust to the most perfidious of elements! Did France not afford every
necessary for our happiness? Happy! yes, thrice happy, they who never
set foot on a foreign soil! Great God! succour all these unfortunate
beings; save our unhappy family!"
My father perceived my distress, but how could he console me? What words
could calm my fears, and place me above the apprehension of those
dangers to which we were exposed? How, in a word, could I assume a
serene appearance, when friends, parents, and all that was most dear to
me were, in all human probability, on the very verge of destruction?
Alas! my fears were but too well founded. For I soon perceived that,
although we were the only ladies, besides the Misses Schmaltz, who
formed a part of the Governor's suit, they had the barbarity of
intending our family to embark upon the raft, where were only soldiers,
sailors, planters of Cape Verd, and some generous officers who had not
the honour (if it could be accounted one) of being considered among the
ignorant confidents of MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys. My father,
indignant at a proceeding so indecorous, swore we would not embark upon
the raft, and that, if we were not judged worthy of a place in one of
the six boats, he would himself, his wife, and children, remain on board
the wrecks of the frigate. The tone in which he spoke these words, was
that of a man resolute to avenge any insult that might be offered to
him. The governor of Senegal, doubtless fearing the world would one day
reproach him for his inhumanity, decided we should have a place in one
of the boats. This having in some measure quieted our fears concerning
our unfortunate situation, I was desirous of taking some repose, but the
uproar among the crew was so great I could not obtain it.
Towards midnight, a passenger came to inquire at my father if we were
disposed to depart; he replied, we had been forbid to go yet. However,
we were soon convinced that a great part of the crew and various
passengers were secretly preparing to set off in the boats. A conduct so
perfidious could not fail to alarm us, especially as we perceived among
those so eager to embark unknown to us, several who had promised, but a
little while before, not to go without us.
M. Schmaltz, to prevent that which was going on upon deck, instantly
rose to endeavour to quiet their minds; but the soldiers had already
assumed a threatening attitude, and, holding cheap the words of their
commander, swore they would fire upon whosoever attempted to depart in a
clandestine manner. The firmness of these brave men produced the desired
effect, and all was restored to order. The governor returned to his
cabin; and those who were desirous of departing furtively were confused
and covered with shame. The governor, however, was ill at ease; and as
he had heard very distinctly certain energetic words which had been
addressed to him, he judged it proper to assemble a council. All the
officers and passengers being collected, M. Schmaltz there solemnly
swore before them not to abandon the raft, and a second time promised,
that all the boats would tow it to the shore of the Desert, where they
would all be formed into a caravan. I confess this conduct of the
governor greatly satisfied every member of our family; for we never
dreamed he would deceive us, nor act in a manner contrary to what he had
promised.
CHAPTER IV.
THE HELM OF THE MEDUSA IS BROKEN BY THE WAVES--IT IS DETERMINED
TO ABANDON THE WRECK OF THE FRIGATE--THE MILITARY ARE PUT UPON
THE RAFT--THE GREATER PART OF THE OFFICERS GO INTO THE BOATS--THE
PICARD FAMILY ARE ABANDONED UPON THE MEDUSA--PROCEEDINGS OF M.
PICARD TO GET HIS FAMILY INTO A BOAT.
About three in the morning, some hours after the meeting of the council,
a terrible noise was heard in the powder room; it was the helm which was
broken. All who were sleeping were roused by it. On going on deck every
one was more and more convinced that the frigate was lost beyond all
recovery. Alas! the wreck was for our family the commencement of a
horrible series of misfortunes. The two chief officers then decided with
one accord, that all should embark at six in the morning, and abandon
the ship to the mercy of the waves. After this decision, followed a
scene the most whimsical, and at the same time the most melancholy that
can be well conceived. To have a more distinct idea of it, let the
reader transport himself in imagination to the midst of the liquid
plains of the ocean; then let him picture to himself a multitude of all
classes, of every age, tossed about at the mercy of the waves upon a
dismasted vessel, foundered, and half submerged; let him not forget
these are thinking beings with the certain prospect before them of
having reached the goal of their existence.
Separated from the rest of the world by a boundless sea, and having no
place of refuge but the wrecks of a grounded vessel, the multitude
addressed at first their vows to heaven, and forgot, for a moment, all
earthly concerns. Then, suddenly starting from their lethargy, they
began to look after their wealth, the merchandise they had in small
ventures, utterly regardless of the elements which threatened them. The
miser, thinking of the gold contained in his coffers, hastening to put
it in a place of safety, either by sewing it into the lining of his
clothes, or by cutting out for it a place in the waistband of his
trousers. The smuggler was tearing his hair at not being able to save a
chest of contraband which he had secretly got on board, and with which
he had hoped to have gained two or three hundred per cent. Another,
selfish to excess, was throwing over board all his hidden money, and
amusing himself by burning all his effects. A generous officer was
opening his portmanteau, offering caps, stockings, and shirts, to any
who would take them. These had scarcely gathered together their various
effects, when they learned that they could not take any thing with them;
those were searching the cabins and store-rooms to carry away every
thing that was valuable. Ship-boys were discovering the delicate wines
and fine liqueurs, which a wise foresight had placed in reserve.
Soldiers and sailors were penetrating even into the spirit-room,
broaching casks, staving others, and drinking till they fell exhausted.
Soon the tumult of the inebriated made us forget the roaring of the sea
which threatened to ingulf us. At last the uproar was at its height; the
soldiers no longer listened to the voice of their captain. Some knit
their brows and muttered oaths; but nothing could be done with those
whom wine had rendered furious. Next, piercing cries mixed with doleful
groans were heard--this was the signal of departure.
At six o'clock on the morning of the 5th, a great part of the military
were embarked upon the raft, which was already covered with a large
sheet of foam. The soldiers were expressly prohibited from taking their
arms. A young officer of infantry, whose brain seemed to be powerfully
affected, put his horse beside the barricadoes of the frigate, and then,
armed with two pistols, threatened to fire upon any one who refused to
go upon the raft. Forty men had scarcely descended when it sunk to the
depth of about two feet. To facilitate the embarking of a greater
number, they were obliged to throw over several barrels of provisions
which had been placed upon it the day before. In this manner did this
furious officer get about one hundred and fifty heaped upon that
floating tomb; but he did not think of adding one more to the number by
descending himself, as he ought to have done, but went peaceably away,
and placed himself in one of the best boats. There should have been
sixty sailors upon the raft, and there were but about ten. A list had
been made out on the 4th, assigning each his proper place; but this wise
precaution being disregarded, every one pursued the plan he deemed the
best for his own preservation. The precipitation with which they forced
one hundred and fifty unfortunate beings upon the raft was such, that
they forgot to give them one morsel of biscuit. However, they threw
towards them twenty-five pounds in a sack, whilst they were not far from
the frigate; but it fell into the sea, and was with difficulty
recovered.
During this disaster, the governor of Senegal, who was busied in the
care of his own dear self, effeminately descended in an arm-chair into
the barge, where were already various large chests, all kinds of
provisions, his dearest friends, his daughter and his wife. Afterwards
the captain's boat received twenty-seven persons, amongst whom were
twenty-five sailors, good rowers. The shallop, commanded by M. Espiau,
ensign of the ship, took forty-five passengers, and put off. The boat,
called the Senegal, took twenty-five; the pinnace thirty-three; and the
yawl, the smallest of all the boats, took only ten.
Almost all the officers, the passengers, the mariners and
supernumeraries, were already embarked--all, but our weeping family, who
still remained upon the boards of the frigate, till some charitable
souls would kindly receive us into a boat. Surprised at this
abandonment, I instantly felt myself roused, and, calling with all my
might to the officers of the boats, besought them to take our unhappy
family along with them. Soon after, the barge, in which were the
governor of Senegal and all his family, approached the Medusa, as if
still to take some passengers, for there were but few in it. I made a
motion to descend, hoping that the Misses Schmaltz, who had, till that
day, taken a great interest in our family, would allow us a place in
their boat; but I was mistaken: those ladies, who had embarked in a
mysterious incognito, had already forgotten us; and M. Lachaumareys, who
was still on the frigate, positively told me they would not embark along
with us. Nevertheless I ought to tell, what we learned afterwards, that
that officer who commanded the pinnace had received orders to take us
in, but, as he was already a great way from the frigate, we were certain
he had abandoned us. My father however hailed him, but he persisted on
his way to gain the open sea. A short while afterwards we perceived a
small boat among the waves, which seemed desirous to approach the
Medusa; it was the yawl. When it was sufficiently near, my father
implored the sailors who were in it to take us on board, and to carry us
to the pinnace, where our family ought to be placed. They refused. He
then seized a firelock, which lay by chance upon deck, and swore he
would kill every one of them if they refused to take us into the yawl,
adding that it was the property of the king, and that he would have
advantage from it as well as another. The sailors murmured, but durst
not resist, and received all our family, which consisted of nine
persons, viz. Four children, our stepmother, my cousin, my sister
Caroline, my father, and myself. A small box, filled with valuable
papers, which we wished to save, some clothes, two bottles of ratafia,
which we had endeavoured to preserve amidst our misfortunes, were seized
and thrown over board by the sailors of the yawl, who told us we would
find in the pinnace every thing which we could wish for our voyage. We
had then only the clothes which covered us, never thinking of dressing
ourselves in two suits; but the loss which affected us most was that of
several MSS. at which my father had been labouring for a long while. Our
trunks, our linen, and various chests of merchandise of great value, in
a word, every thing we possessed, was left in the Medusa. When we
boarded the pinnace, the officer who commanded it began excusing himself
for having set off without forewarning us, as he had been ordered, and
said a thousand things in his justification. But without believing the
half of his fine protestations, we felt very happy in having overtaken
him; for it is most certain they had had no intention of encumbering
themselves with our unfortunate family. I say encumber, for it is
evident that four children, one of whom was yet at the breast, were very
indifferent beings to people who were actuated by a selfishness without
all parallel. When we were seated in the long-boat, my father dismissed
the sailors with the yawl, telling them he would ever gratefully
remember their services. They speedily departed, but little satisfied
with the good action they had done. My father hearing their murmurs and
the abuse they poured out against us, said, loud enough for all in the
boat to hear: "We are not surprised sailors are destitute of shame, when
their officers blush at being compelled to do a good action." The
commandant of the boat feigned not to understand the reproaches conveyed
in these words, and, to divert our minds from brooding over our wrongs,
endeavoured to counterfeit the man of gallantry.
CHAPTER V.
DEPARTURE OF THE BOATS--THEY SEEM DESIROUS OF TOWING THE
RAFT--GENEROUS CONDUCT OF A NAVAL OFFICER--THE ABANDONMENT OF THE
RAFT--DESPAIR OF THE WRETCHES WHO ARE LEFT TO THE FURY OF THE
WAVES--REPROACHES OF M. PICARD TO THE AUTHORS OF THE ABANDONING
THE RAFT--DESCRIPTION OF THE SMALL FLEET WHICH THE BOATS
FORMED--FRIGHTFUL FATE, AND DEPLORABLE END OF THE GREATER PART OF
THE INDIVIDUALS ON THE RAFT.
All the boats were already far from the Medusa, when they were brought
to, to form a chain in order to tow the raft. The barge, in which was
the governor of Senegal, took the first tow, then all the other boats in
succession joined themselves to that. M. Lachaumareys embarked, although
there yet remained upon the Medusa more than sixty persons. Then the
brave and generous M. Espiau, commander of the shallop, quitted the line
of boats, and returned to the frigate, with the intention of saving all
the wretches who had been abandoned. They all sprung into the shallop;
but as it was very much overloaded, seventeen unfortunates preferred
remaining on board, rather than expose themselves as well as their
companions to certain death. But, alas! the greater part afterwards fell
victims to their fears or their devotion. Fifty-two days after they were
abandoned, no more than three of them were alive, and these looked more
like skeletons than men. They told that their miserable companions had
gone afloat upon planks and hen-coops, after having waited in vain
forty-two days for the succour which had been promised them, and that
all had perished.[4]
[Footnote 4: Two, out of the three wretches who were saved from
the wrecks of the Medusa, died a few days after their arrival at
the colony; and the third, who pretended to know a great many
particulars relative to the desertion of the frigate, was
assassinated in his bed at Senegal, when he was just upon the eve
of setting off for France. The authorities could not discover the
murderer, who had taken good care to flee from his victim after
having killed him.]
The shallop, carrying with difficulty all those she had saved from the
Medusa, slowly rejoined the line of boats which towed the raft. M.
Espiau earnestly besought the officers of the other boats to take some
of them along with them; but they refused, alleging to the generous
officer that he ought to keep them in his own boat, as he had gone for
them himself. M. Espiau, finding it impossible to keep them all without
exposing them to the utmost peril, steered right for a boat which I will
not name. Immediately a sailor sprung from the shallop into the sea, and
endeavoured to reach it by swimming; and when he was about to enter it,
an officer who possessed great influence, pushed him back, and, drawing
his sabre, threatened to cut off his hands, if he again made the
attempt. The poor wretch regained the shallop, which was very near the
pinnace, where we were. Various friends of my father supplicated M.
Laperere, the officer of our boat, to receive him on board. My father
had his arms already out to catch him, when M. Laperere instantly let go
the rope which attached us to the other boats, and tugged off with all
his force. At the same instant every boat imitated our execrable
example; and wishing to shun the approach of the shallop, which sought
for assistance, stood off from the raft, abandoning in the midst of the
ocean, and to the fury of the waves, the miserable mortals whom they had
sworn to land on the shores of the Desert.
Scarcely had these cowards broken their oath, when we saw the French
flag flying upon the raft. The confidence of these unfortunate persons
was so great, that when they saw the first boat which had the tow
removing from them, they all cried out, the rope is broken! the rope is
broken! but when no attention was paid to their observation they
instantly perceived the treachery of the wretches who had left them so
basely. Then the cries of _Vive le Roi_ arose from the raft, as if the
poor fellows were calling to their father for assistance; or, as if they
had been persuaded that, at that rallying word, the officers of the
boats would return, and not abandon their countrymen. The officers
repeated the cry of _Vive le Roi_, without a doubt, to insult them; but,
more particularly, M. Lachaumareys, who, assuming a martial attitude,
waved his hat in the air. Alas! what availed these false professions?
Frenchmen, menaced with the greatest peril, were demanding assistance
with the cries of _Vive le Roi_; yet none were found sufficiently
generous, nor sufficiently French, to go to aid them. After a silence
of some minutes, horrible cries were heard; the air resounded with the
groans, the lamentations, the imprecations of these wretched beings, and
the echo of the sea frequently repeated, Alas! how cruel you are to
abandon us!!! The raft already appeared to be buried under the waves,
and its unfortunate passengers immersed. The fatal machine was drifted
by currents far behind the wreck of the Frigate; without cable, anchor,
mast, sail, oars; in a word, without the smallest means of enabling them
to save themselves. Each wave that struck it, made them stumble in heaps
on one another. Their feet getting entangled among the cordage, and
between the planks, bereaved them of the faculty of moving. Maddened by
these misfortunes, suspended, and adrift upon a merciless ocean, they
were soon tortured between the pieces of wood which formed the scaffold
on which they floated. The bones of their feet and their legs were
bruized and broken, every time the fury of the waves agitated the raft;
their flesh covered with contusions and hideous wounds, dissolved, as it
were, in the briny waves, whilst the roaring flood around them was
coloured with their blood.
As the raft, when it was abandoned, was nearly two leagues from the
frigate, it was impossible these unfortunate persons could return to it:
they were soon after far out at sea. These victims still appeared above
their floating tomb; and, stretching out their supplicating hands
towards the boats which fled from them, seemed yet to invoke, for the
last time, the names of the wretches who had deceived them. O horrid
day! a day of shame and reproach! Alas! that the hearts of those who
were so well acquainted with misfortune, should have been so
inaccessible to pity!
After witnessing that most inhuman scene, and seeing they were
insensible to the cries and lamentations of so many unhappy beings, I
felt my heart bursting with sorrow. It seemed to me that the waves would
overwhelm all these wretches, and I could not suppress my tears. My
father, exasperated to excess, and bursting with rage at seeing so much
cowardice and inhumanity among the officers of the boats, began to
regret he had not accepted the place which had been assigned for us upon
the fatal raft. "At least," said he, "we would have died with the brave,
or we would have returned to the wreck of the Medusa; and not have had
the disgrace of saving ourselves with cowards." Although this produced
no effect upon the officers, it proved very fatal to us afterwards; for,
on our arrival at Senegal, it was reported to the Governor, and very
probably was the principal cause of all those evils and vexations which
we endured in that colony.
Let us now turn our attention to the several situations of all those who
were endeavouring to save themselves in the different boats, as well as
to those left upon the wreck of the Medusa.
We have already seen, that the frigate was half sunk when it was
deserted, presenting nothing but a hulk and wreck. Nevertheless,
seventeen still remained upon it, and had food, which, although damaged,
enabled them to support themselves for a considerable time; whilst the
raft was abandoned to float at the mercy of the waves, upon the vast
surface of the ocean. One hundred and fifty wretches were embarked upon
it, sunk to the depth of at least three feet on its fore part, and on
its poop immersed even to the middle. What victuals they had were soon
consumed, or spoiled by the salt water; and perhaps some, as the waves
hurried them along, became food for the monsters of the deep. Two only
of all the boats which left the Medusa, and these with very few people
in them, were provisioned with every necessary; these struck off with
security and despatch. But the condition of those who were in the
shallop was but little better than those upon the raft; their great
number, their scarcity of provisions, their great distance from the
shore, gave them the most melancholy anticipations of the future. Their
worthy commander, M. Espiau, had no other hope but of reaching the shore
as soon as possible. The other boats were less filled with people, but
they were scarcely better provisioned; and, as by a species of fatality,
the pinnace, in which were our family, was destitute of every thing. Our
provisions consisted of a barrel of biscuit, and a tierce of water; and,
to add to our misfortunes, the biscuit being soaked in the sea, it was
almost impossible to swallow one morsel of it. Each passenger in our
boat was obliged to sustain his wretched existence with a glass of
water, which he could get only once a day. To tell how this happened,
how this boat was so poorly supplied, whilst there were abundance left
upon the Medusa, is far beyond my power. But it is at least certain,
that the greater part of the officers commanding the boats, the Shallop,
the pinnace, the Senegal boat, and the yawl, were persuaded, when they
quitted the frigate, that they would not abandon the raft, but that all
the expedition would sail together to the coast of Sahara; that when
there, the boats would be again sent to the Medusa to take provisions,
arms, and those who were left there; but it appears the chiefs had
decided otherwise.
After abandoning the raft, although scattered, all the boats formed a
little fleet, and followed the same route. All who were sincere hoped to
arrive the same day at the coast of the Desert, and that every one would
get on shore; but MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys gave orders to take the
route for Senegal. This sudden change in the resolutions of the chiefs
was like a thunderbolt to the officers commanding the boats. Having
nothing on board but what was barely necessary to enable us to allay the
cravings of hunger for one day, we were all sensibly affected. The other
boats, which, like ourselves, hoped to have got on shore at the nearest
point, were a little better provisioned than we were; they had at least
a little wine, which supplied the place of other necessaries. We then
demanded some from them, explaining our situation, but none would assist
us, not even Captain Lachaumareys, who, drinking to a kept mistress,
supported by two sailors, swore he had not one drop on board. We were
next desirous of addressing the boat of the Governor of Senegal, where
we were persuaded were plenty of provisions of every kind, such as
oranges, biscuits, cakes, comfits, plumbs, and even the finest liqueurs;
but my father opposed it, so well was he assured we would not obtain any
thing.
We will now turn to the condition of those on the raft, when the boats
left them to themselves.
If all the boats had continued dragging the raft forward, favoured as
we were by the breeze from the sea, we would have been able to have
conducted them to the shore in less than two days. But an inconceivable
fatality caused the generous plan to be abandoned which had been formed.
When the raft had lost sight of the boats, a spirit of sedition began to
manifest itself in furious cries. They then began to regard one another
with ferocious looks, and to thirst for one another's flesh. Some one
had already whispered of having recourse to that monstrous extremity,
and of commencing with the fattest and youngest. A proposition so
atrocious filled the brave Captain Dupont and his worthy lieutenant M.
L'Heureux with horror; and that courage which had so often supported
them in the field of glory, now forsook them.
Among the first who fell under the hatchets of the assassins, was a
young woman who had been seen devouring the body of her husband. When
her turn was come, she sought a little wine as a last favour, then rose,
and without uttering one word, threw herself into the sea. Captain
Dupont being proscribed for having refused to partake of the
sacrilegious viands with which the monsters were feeding on, was saved
as by a miracle from the hands of the butchers. Scarcely had they seized
him to lead him to the slaughter, when a large pole, which served in
place of a mast, fell upon his body; and believing that his legs were
broken, they contented themselves by throwing him into the sea. The
unfortunate captain plunged, disappeared, and they thought him already
in another world.
Providence, however, revived the strength of the unfortunate warrior.
He emerged under the beams of the raft, and clinging with all his might,
holding his head above water, he remained between two enormous pieces of
wood, whilst the rest of his body was hid in the sea. After more than
two hours of suffering, Captain Dupont spoke in a low voice to his
lieutenant, who by chance was seated near the place of his concealment.
The brave L'Heureux, with eyes glistening with tears, believed he heard
the voice, and saw the shade of his captain; and trembling, was about to
quit the place of horror; but, O wonderful! he saw a head which seemed
to draw its last sigh, he recognised it, he embraced it, alas! it was
his dear friend! Dupont was instantly drawn from the water, and M.
L'Heureux obtained for his unfortunate comrade again a place upon the
raft. Those who had been most inveterate against him, touched at what
Providence had done for him in so miraculous a manner, decided with one
accord to allow him entire liberty upon the raft.
The sixty unfortunates who had escaped from the first massacre, were
soon reduced to fifty, then to forty, and at last to twenty-eight. The
least murmur, or the smallest complaint, at the moment of distributing
the provisions, was a crime punished with immediate death. In
consequence of such a regulation, it may easily be presumed the raft was
soon lightened. In the meanwhile the wine diminished sensibly, and the
half rations very much displeased a certain chief of the conspiracy. On
purpose to avoid being reduced to that extremity, the _executive power_
decided it was much wiser to _drown thirteen people_, and to get full
rations, than that twenty-eight should have half rations. Merciful
Heaven! what shame! After the last catastrophe, the chiefs of the
conspiracy, fearing doubtless of being assassinated in their turn, threw
all the arms into the sea, and swore an inviolable friendship with the
heroes which the hatchet had spared. On the 17th of July, in the
morning, Captain Parnajon, commandant of the Argus brig, still found
fifteen men on the raft. They were immediately taken on board, and
conducted to Senegal. Four of the fifteen are yet alive, viz. Captain
Dupont, residing in the neighbourhood of Maintenon, Lieutenant
L'Heureux, since Captain, at Senegal, Savigny, at Rochefort, and
Correard, I know not where.
CHAPTER VI.
THE CHIEFS OF THE EXPEDITION ORDER THE BOATS TO TAKE THE ROUTE
FOR SENEGAL--OBJECTIONS OF SOME GENEROUS OFFICERS--THE SHORES OF
THE DESERT OF SAHARA ARE DISCOVERED--IT IS DEFENDED--THE SAILORS
OF THE PINNACE ARE DESIROUS OF LANDING--THE BOAT IN WHICH THE
PICARD FAMILY IS LEAKS MUCH--UNHEARD-OF SUFFERINGS--TERRIBLE
SITUATION OF THE FAMILY--FRIGHTFUL TEMPEST--DESPAIR OF THE
PASSENGERS.
On the 5th of July, at ten in the morning, one hour after abandoning the
raft, and three after quitting the Medusa, M. Laperere, the officer of
our boat, made the first distribution of provisions. Each passenger had
a small glass of water and nearly the fourth of a biscuit. Each drank
his allowance of water at one draught, but it was found impossible to
swallow one morsel of our biscuit, it being so impregnated with
sea-water. It happened, however, that some was found not quite so
saturated. Of these we eat a small portion, and put back the remainder
for a future day. Our voyage would have been sufficiently agreeable, if
the beams of the sun had not been so fierce. On the evening we perceived
the shores of the Desert; but as the two chiefs (MM. Schmaltz and
Lachaumareys) wished to go right for Senegal, notwithstanding we were
still one hundred leagues from it, we were not allowed to land. Several
officers remonstrated, both on account of our want of provisions and the
crowded condition of the boats, for undertaking so dangerous a voyage.
Others urged with equal force, that it would be dishonouring the French
name, if we were to neglect the unfortunate people on the raft, and
insisted we should be set on shore, and whilst we waited there, three
boats should return to look after the raft, and three to the wrecks of
the frigate, to take up the seventeen who were left there, as well as a
sufficient quantity of provisions to enable us to go to Senegal by the
way of Barbary. But MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys, whose boats were
sufficiently well provisioned, scouted the advice of their subalterns,
and ordered them to cast anchor till the following morning. They were
obliged to obey these orders, and to relinquish their designs. During
the night, a certain passenger, who was doubtless no doctor, and who
believed in ghosts and witches, was suddenly frightened by the
appearance of flames, which he thought he saw in the waters of the sea,
a little way from where our boat was anchored. My father, and some
others, who were aware that the sea is sometimes phosphorated, confirmed
the poor credulous man in his belief, and added several circumstances
which fairly turned his brain. They persuaded him the Arabic sorcerers
had fired the sea to prevent us from travelling along their deserts.
On the morning of the 6th of July, at five o'clock, all the boats were
under way on the route to Senegal. The boats of MM. Schmaltz and
Lachaumareys took the lead along the coast, and all the expedition
followed. About eight, several sailors in our boat, with threats,
demanded to be set on shore; but M. Laperere, not acceding to their
request, the whole were about to revolt and seize the command; but the
firmness of this officer quelled the mutineers. In a spring which he
made to seize a firelock which a sailor persisted in keeping in his
possession, he almost tumbled into the sea. My father fortunately was
near him, and held him by his clothes, but he had instantly to quit him,
for fear of losing his hat, which the waves were floating away. A short
while after this slight accident, the shallop, which we had lost sight
of since the morning, appeared desirous of rejoining us. We plied all
hands to avoid her, for we were afraid of one another, and thought that
that boat, encumbered with so many people, wished to board us to oblige
us to take some of its passengers, as M. Espiau would not suffer them to
be abandoned like those upon the raft. That officer hailed us at a
distance, offering to take our family on board, adding, he was anxious
to take about sixty people to the Desert. The officer of our boat,
thinking that this was a pretence, replied, we preferred suffering where
we were. It even appeared to us that M. Espiau had hid some of his
people under the benches of the shallop. But, alas! in the end we deeply
deplored being so suspicious, and of having so outraged the devotion of
the most generous officer of the Medusa.
Our boat began to leak considerably, but we prevented it as well as we
could, by stuffing the largest holes with oakum, which an old sailor
had had the precaution to take before quitting the frigate. At noon the
heat became so strong--so intolerable, that several of us believed we
had reached our last moments. The hot winds of the Desert even reached
us; and the fine sand with which they were loaded, had completely
obscured the clearness of the atmosphere. The sun presented a reddish
disk; the whole surface of the ocean became nebulous, and the air which
we breathed, depositing a fine sand, an impalpable powder, penetrated to
our lungs, already parched with a burning thirst. In this state of
torment we remained till four in the afternoon, when a breeze from the
north-west brought us some relief. Notwithstanding the privations we
felt, and especially the burning thirst which had become intolerable,
the cool air which we now began to breath, made us in part forget our
sufferings. The heavens began again to resume the usual serenity of
those latitudes, and we hoped to have passed a good night. A second
distribution of provisions was made; each received a small glass of
water, and about the eighth part of a biscuit. Notwithstanding our
meagre fare, every one seemed content, in the persuasion we would reach
Senegal by the morrow. But how vain were all our hopes, and what
sufferings had we yet to endure!
At half past seven, the sky was covered with stormy clouds. The serenity
we had admired a little while before, entirely disappeared, and gave
place to the most gloomy obscurity. The surface of the ocean presented
all the signs of a coming tempest. The horizon on the side of the Desert
had the appearance of a long hideous chain of mountains piled on one
another, the summits of which seemed to vomit fire and smoke. Bluish
clouds, streaked with a dark copper colour, detached themselves from
that shapeless heap, and came and joined with those which floated over
our heads. In less than half an hour the ocean seemed confounded with
the terrible sky which canopied us. The stars were hid. Suddenly a
frightful noise was heard from the west, and all the waves of the sea
rushed to founder our frail bark. A fearful silence succeeded to the
general consternation. Every tongue was mute; and none durst communicate
to his neighbour the horror with which his mind was impressed. At
intervals the cries of the children rent our hearts. At that instant a
weeping and agonized mother bared her breast to her dying child, but it
yielded nothing to appease the thirst of the little innocent who pressed
it in vain. O night of horrors! what pen is capable to paint thy
terrible picture! How describe the agonizing fears of a father and
mother, at the sight of their children tossed about and expiring of
hunger in a small boat, which the winds and waves threatened to ingulf
at every instant! Having full before our eyes the prospect of inevitable
death, we gave ourselves up to our unfortunate condition, and addressed
our prayers to Heaven. The winds growled with the utmost fury; the
tempestuous waves arose exasperated. In their terrific encounter a
mountain of water was precipitated into our boat, carrying away one of
the sails, and the greater part of the effects which the sailors had
saved from the Medusa. Our bark was nearly sunk; the females and the
children lay rolling in its bottom, drinking the waters of bitterness;
and their cries, mixed with the roaring of the waves and the furious
north wind, increased the horrors of the scene. My unfortunate father
then experienced the most excruciating agony of mind. The idea of the
loss which the shipwreck had occasioned to him, and the danger which
still menaced all he held dearest in the world, plunged him into a deep
swoon. The tenderness of his wife and children recovered him; but alas!
his recovery was to still more bitterly to deplore the wretched
situation of his family. He clasped us to his bosom; he bathed us with
his tears, and seemed as if he was regarding us with his last looks of
love.
Every soul in the boat were seized with the same perturbation, but it
manifested itself in different ways. One part of the sailors remained
motionless, in a bewildered state; the other cheered and encouraged one
another; the children, locked in the arms of their parents, wept
incessantly. Some demanded drink, vomiting the salt water which choked
them; others, in short, embraced as for the last time, intertwining
their arms, and vowing to die together.
In the meanwhile the sea became rougher and rougher. The whole surface
of the ocean seemed a vast plain furrowed with huge blackish waves
fringed with white foam. The thunder growled around us, and the
lightning discovered to our eyes all that our imagination could conceive
most horrible. Our boat, beset on all sides by the winds, and at every
instant tossed on the summit of mountains of water, was very nearly sunk
in spite of our every effort in baling it, when we discovered a large
hole in its poop. It was instantly stuffed with every thing we could
find;--old clothes, sleeves of shirts, shreds of coats, shawls, useless
bonnets, every thing was employed, and secured us as far as it was
possible. During the space of six hours, we rowed suspended alternately
between hope and fear, between life and death. At last towards the
middle of the night, Heaven, which had seen our resignation, commanded
the floods to be still. Instantly the sea became less rough, the veil
which covered the sky became less obscure, the stars again shone out,
and the tempest seemed to withdraw. A general exclamation of joy and
thankfulness issued at one instant from every mouth. The winds calmed,
and each of us sought a little sleep, whilst our good and generous pilot
steered our boat on a still very stormy sea.
The day at last, the day so desired, entirely restored the calm; but it
brought no other consolation. During the night, the currents, the waves,
and the winds had taken us so far out to sea, that, on the dawning of
the 7th of July, we saw nothing but sky and water, without knowing
whether to direct our course; for our compass had been broken during the
tempest. In this hopeless condition, we continued to steer sometimes to
the right and sometimes to the left, until the sun arose, and at last
showed us the east.
CHAPTER VII.
AFTER THE FRIGHTFUL TEMPEST, THE BOAT, IN WHICH ARE THE PICARD
FAMILY, IS STILL DESIROUS OF TAKING THE ROUTE TO SENEGAL--CRUEL
ALTERNATIVE TO WHICH THE PASSENGERS ARE DRIVEN--IT IS AT LAST
DECIDED TO GAIN THE COAST--DESCRIPTION OF THE LANDING--THE
TRANSPORTS OF THE SHIPWRECKED.
On the morning of the 7th of July, we again saw the shores of the
Desert, notwithstanding we were yet a great distance from it. The
sailors renewed their murmurings, wishing to get on shore, with the hope
of being able to get some wholesome plants, and some more palatable
water than that of the sea; but as we were afraid of the Moors, their
request was opposed. However, M. Laperere proposed to take them as near
as he could to the first breakers on the coast; and when there, those
who wished to go on shore should throw themselves into the sea, and swim
to land. Eleven accepted the proposal; but when we had reached the first
waves, none had the courage to brave the mountains of water which rolled
between them and the beach. Our sailors then betook themselves to their
benches and oars, and promised to be more quiet for the future. A short
while after, a third distribution was made since our departure from the
Medusa; and nothing more remained than four pints of water, and one half
dozen biscuits. What steps were we to take in this cruel situation? We
were desirous of going on shore, but we had such dangers to encounter.
However, we soon came to a decision, when we saw a caravan of Moors on
the coast. We then stood a little out to sea. According to the
calculation of our commanding officer, we would arrive at Senegal on the
morrow. Deceived by that false account, we preferred suffering one day
more, rather than to be taken by the Moors of the Desert, or perish
among the breakers. We had now no more than a small half glass of water,
and the seventh of a biscuit. Exposed as we were to the heat of the sun,
which darted its rays perpendicularly on our heads, that ration, though
small, would have been a great relief to us; but the distribution was
delayed to the morrow. We were then obliged to drink the bitter
sea-water, ill as it was calculated to quench our thirst. Must I tell
it! thirst had so withered the lungs of our sailors, that they drank
water salter than that of the sea! Our numbers diminished daily, and
nothing but the hope of arriving at the colony on the following day
sustained our frail existence. My young brothers and sisters wept
incessantly for water. The little Laura, aged six years, lay dying at
the feet of her mother. Her mournful cries so moved the soul of my
unfortunate father, that he was on the eve of opening a vein to quench
the thirst which consumed his child; but a wise person opposed his
design, observing that all the blood in his body would not prolong the
life of his infant one moment.
The freshness of the night-wind procured us some respite. We anchored
pretty near to the shore, and, though dying of famine, each got a
tranquil sleep. On the morning of the 8th of July at break of day, we
took the route for Senegal. A short while after the wind fell, and we
had a dead calm. We endeavoured to row, but our strength was exhausted.
A fourth and last distribution was made, and, in the twinkling of an
eye, our last resources were consumed. We were forty-two people who had
to feed upon _six biscuits_ and about _four pints_ of water, with no
hope of a farther supply. Then came the moment for deciding whether we
were to perish among the breakers, which defended the approach to the
shores of the Desert, or to die of famine in continuing our route. The
majority preferred the last species of misery. We continued our progress
along the shore, painfully pulling our oars. Upon the beach were
distinguished several downs of white sand, and some small trees. We were
thus creeping along the coast, observing a mournful silence, when a
sailor suddenly exclaimed, Behold the Moors! We did, in fact, see
various individuals upon the rising ground, walking at a quick pace, and
whom we took to be the Arabs of the Desert. As we were very near the
shore, we stood farther out to sea, fearing that these pretended Moors,
or Arabs, would throw themselves into the sea, swim out, and take us.
Some hours after, we observed several people upon an eminence, who
seemed to make signals to us. We examined them attentively, and soon
recognised them to be our companions in misfortune. We replied to them
by attaching a white handkerchief to the top of our mast. Then we
resolved to land, at the risk of perishing among the breakers, which
were very strong towards the shore, although the sea was calm. On
approaching the beach, we went towards the right, where the waves seemed
less agitated, and endeavoured to reach it, with the hope of being able
more easily to land. Scarcely had we directed our course to that point,
when we perceived a great number of people standing near to a little
wood surrounding the sand-hills. We recognised them to be the passengers
of that boat, which, like ourselves, were deprived of provisions.
Meanwhile we approached the shore, and already the foaming surge filled
us with terror. Each wave that came from the open sea, each billow that
swept beneath our boat, made us bound into the air; so we were sometimes
thrown from the poop to the prow, and from the prow to the poop. Then,
if our pilot had missed the sea, we would have been sunk; the waves
would have thrown us aground, and we would have been buried among the
breakers. The helm of the boat was again given to the old pilot, who had
already so happily steered us through the dangers of the storm. He
instantly threw into the sea the mast, the sails, and every thing that
could impede our proceedings. When we came to the first landing point,
several of our shipwrecked companions, who had reached the shore, ran
and hid themselves behind the hills, not to see us perish; others made
signs not to approach at that place; some covered their eyes with their
hands; others, at last despising the danger, precipitated themselves
into the waves to receive us in their arms. We then saw a spectacle that
made us shudder. We had already doubled two ranges of breakers; but
those which we had still to cross raised their foaming waves to a
prodigious height, then sunk with a hollow and monstrous sound, sweeping
along a long line of the coast. Our boat sometimes greatly elevated, and
sometimes ingulfed between the waves, seemed, at the moment, of utter
ruin. Bruised, battered, tossed about on all hands, it turned of itself,
and refused to obey the kind hand which directed it. At that instant a
huge wave rushed from the open sea, and dashed against the poop; the
boat plunged, disappeared, and we were all among the waves. Our sailors,
whose strength had returned at the presence of danger, redoubled their
efforts, uttering mournful sounds. Our bark groaned, the oars were
broken; it was thought aground, but it was stranded; it was upon its
side. The last sea rushed upon us with the impetuosity of a torrent. We
were up to the neck in water; the bitter sea-froth choaked us. The
grapnel was thrown out. The sailors threw themselves into the sea; they
took the children in their arms; returned, and took us upon their
shoulders; and I found myself seated upon the sand on the shore, by the
side of my step-mother, my brothers and sisters, almost dead. Every one
was upon the beach except my father and some sailors; but that good man
arrived at last, to mingle his tears with those of his family and
friends.
Instantly our hearts joined in addressing our prayers and praises to
God. I raised my hands to heaven, and remained some time immoveable
upon the beach. Every one also hastened to testify his gratitude to our
old pilot, who, next to God, justly merited the title of our preserver.
M. Dumege, a naval surgeon, gave him an elegant gold watch, the only
thing he had saved from the Medusa.
Let the reader now recollect all the perils to which we had been exposed
in escaping from the wreck of the frigate to the shores of the
Desert--all that we had suffered during our four days' voyage--and he
will perhaps have a just notion of the various sensations we felt on
getting on shore on that strange and savage land. Doubtless the joy we
experienced at having escaped, as by a miracle, the fury of the floods,
was very great; but how much was it lessened by the feelings of our
horrible situation! Without water, without provisions, and the majority
of us nearly naked, was it to be wondered at that we should be seized
with terror on thinking of the obstacles which we had to surmount, the
fatigues, the privations, the pains and the sufferings we had to endure,
with the dangers we had to encounter in the immense and frightful Desert
we had to traverse before we could arrive at our destination? Almighty
Providence! it was in Thee alone I put my trust.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE SHIPWRECKED PARTY FORM THEMSELVES INTO A CARAVAN TO GO BY
LAND TO SENEGAL--THEY FIND WATER IN THE DESERT--SOME PEOPLE OF
THE CARAVAN PROPOSE TO ABANDON THE PICARD FAMILY--GENEROUS
CONDUCT OF AN OLD OFFICER OF INFANTRY--DISCOVERY OF AN OASIS OF
WILD PURSLAIN--FIRST REPAST OF THE CARAVAN IN THE DESERT--THEY
FALL IN WITH A SMALL CAMP OF ARABS--M. PICARD PURCHASES TWO
KIDS--THE MOORS OFFER THEIR SERVICES TO THEM--ARRIVAL AT LAST AT
THE GREAT CAMP OF THE MOORS--M. PICARD IS RECOGNISED BY AN
ARAB--GENEROUS PROCEEDING OF THAT ARAB--SUDDEN DEPARTURE OF THE
CARAVAN--THEY HIRE ASSES.
After we had a little recovered from the fainting and fatigue of our
getting on shore, our fellow-sufferers told us they had landed in the
forenoon, and had cleared the breakers by the strength of their oars and
sails; but they had not all been so lucky as we were. One unfortunate
person, too desirous of getting quickly on shore, had his legs broken
under the Shallop, and was taken and laid on the beach, and left to the
care of Providence. M. Espiau, commander of the shallop, reproached us
for having doubted him when he wished to board us to take our family
along with him. It was most true he had landed sixty-three people that
day. A short while after our refusal, he took the passengers of the
yawl, who would infallibly have perished in the stormy night of the 6th
and 7th. The boat named the Senegal, commanded by M. Maudet, had made
the shore at the same time with M. Espiau. The boats of MM. Schmaltz and
Lachaumareys were the only ones which continued the route for Senegal,
whilst nine-tenths of the Frenchmen intrusted to these gentlemen were
butchering each other on the raft, or dying of hunger on the burning
sands of Sahara.
About seven in the morning, a caravan was formed to penetrate into the
interior, for the purpose of finding some fresh water. We did
accordingly find some at a little distance from the sea, by digging
among the sand. Every one instantly flocked round the little wells,
which furnished enough to quench our thirst. This brackish water was
found to be delicious, although it had a sulphurous taste: its colour
was that of whey. As all our clothes were wet and in tatters, and as we
had nothing to change them, some generous officers offered theirs. My
step-mother, my cousin, and my sister, were dressed in them; for myself,
I preferred keeping my own. We remained nearly an hour beside our
beneficent fountain then took the route for Senegal; that is, a
southerly direction, for we did not know exactly where that country lay.
It was agreed that the females and children should walk before the
caravan, that they might not be left behind. The sailors voluntarily
carried the youngest on their shoulders, and every one took the route
along the coast. Notwithstanding it was nearly seven o'clock, the sand
was quite burning, and we suffered severely, walking without shoes,
having lost them whilst landing. As soon as we arrived on the shore, we
went to walk on the wet sand, to cool us a little. Thus we travelled
during all the night, without encountering any thing but shells, which
wounded our feet.
On the morning of the 9th, we saw an antelope on the top of a little
hill, which instantly disappeared, before we had time to shoot it. The
Desert seemed to our view one immense plain of sand, on which was seen
not one blade of verdure. However, we still found water by digging in
the sand. In the forenoon, two officers of marine complained that our
family incommoded the progress of the caravan. It is true, the females
and the children could not walk so quickly as the men. We walked as fast
as it was possible for us, nevertheless, we often fell behind, which
obliged them to halt till we came up. These officers, joined with other
individuals, considered among themselves whether they would wait for us,
or abandon us in the Desert. I will be bold to say, however, that but
few were of the latter opinion. My father being informed of what was
plotting against us, stepped up to the chiefs of the conspiracy, and
reproached them in the bitterest terms for their selfishness and
brutality. The dispute waxed hot. Those who were desirous of leaving us
drew their swords, and my father put his hand upon a poignard, with
which he had provided himself on quitting the frigate. At this scene,
we threw ourselves in between them, conjuring him rather to remain in
the Desert with his family, than seek the assistance of those who were,
perhaps, less humane than the Moors themselves. Several people took our
part, particularly M. Begnere, captain of infantry, who quieted the
dispute by saying to his soldiers. "My friends, you are Frenchmen, and I
have the honour of being your commander; let us never abandon an
unfortunate family in the Desert, so long as we are able to be of use to
them." This brief, but energetic speech, caused those to blush who
wished to leave us. All then joined with the old captain, saying they
would not leave us on condition we would walk quicker. M. Begnere and
his soldiers replied, they did not wish to impose conditions on those to
whom they were desirous of doing a favour; and the unfortunate family of
Picard were again on the road with the whole caravan. Some time after
this dispute, M. Rogery, member of the Philanthropic Society of Cape
Verd, secretly left the caravan, striking into the middle of the Desert,
without knowing very well what he sought. He wished perhaps to explore
the ancient country of the Numidians and Getulians, and to give himself
a slave to the great Emperor of Morocco. What would it avail to acquire
such celebrity? That intrepid traveller had not time to find that after
which he searched; for a few days after he was captured by the Moors,
and taken to Senegal, where the governor paid his ransom.
About noon hunger was felt so powerfully among us, that it was agreed
upon to go to the small hills of sand which were near the coast, to see
if any herbs could be found fit for eating; but we only got poisonous
plants, among which were various kinds of euphorbium. Convolvuluses of a
bright green carpeted the downs; but on tasting their leaves we found
them as bitter as gall. The caravan rested in this place, whilst several
officers went farther into the interior. They came back in about an
hour, loaded with wild purslain, which they distributed to each of us.
Every one instantly devoured his bunch of herbage, without leaving the
smallest branch; but as our hunger was far from being satisfied with
this small allowance, the soldiers and sailors betook themselves to look
for more. They soon brought back a sufficient quantity, which was
equally distributed, and devoured upon the spot, so delicious had hunger
made that food to us. For myself, I declare I never eat any thing with
so much appetite in all my life. Water was also found in this place, but
it was of an abominable taste. After this truly frugal repast, we
continued our route. The heat was insupportable in the last degree. The
sands on which we trode were burning, nevertheless several of us walked
on these scorching coals without shoes; and the females had nothing but
their hair for a cap. When we reached the sea-shore, we all ran and lay
down among the waves. After remaining there some time, we took our route
along the wet beach. On our journey we met with several large crabs,
which were of considerable service to us. Every now and then we
endeavoured to slake our thirst by sucking their crooked claws. About
nine at night we halted between two pretty high sand hills. After a
short talk concerning our misfortunes, all seemed desirous of passing
the night in this place, notwithstanding we heard on every side the
roaring of leopards. We deliberated on the means of securing ourselves,
but sleep soon put an end to our fears. Scarcely had we slumbered a few
hours when a horrible roaring of wild beasts awoke us, and made us stand
on our defence. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and in spite of my
fears and the horrible aspect of the place, nature never appeared so
sublime to me before. Instantly something was announced that resembled a
lion. This information was listened to with the greatest emotion. Every
one being desirous of verifying the truth, fixed upon something he
thought to be the object; one believed he saw the long teeth of the king
of the forest; another was convinced his mouth was already open to
devour us; several, armed with muskets, aimed at the animal, and
advancing a few steps, discovered the pretended lion to be nothing more
than a shrub fluctuating in the breeze. However, the howlings of
ferocious beasts had so frightened us, being yet heard at intervals,
that we again sought the sea-shore, on purpose to continue our route
towards the south.
Our situation had been thus perilous during the night; nevertheless at
break of day we had the satisfaction of finding none amissing. About
sunrise we held a little to the east to get farther into the interior to
find fresh water, and lost much time in a vain search. The country which
we now traversed was a little less arid than that which we had passed
the preceding day. The hills, the valleys, and a vast plain of sand,
were strewed with Mimosa or sensitive plants, presenting to our sight a
scene we had never before seen in the Desert. The country is bounded as
it were by a chain of mountains, or high downs of sand, in the direction
of north and south, without the slightest trace of cultivation.
Towards ten in the morning some of our companions were desirous of
making observations in the interior, and they did not go in vain. They
instantly returned, and told us they had seen two Arab tents upon a
slight rising ground. We instantly directed our steps thither. We had to
pass great downs of sand very slippery, and arrived in a large plain,
streaked here and there with verdure; but the turf was so hard and
piercing, we could scarcely walk over it without wounding our feet. Our
presence in these frightful solitudes put to flight three or four
Moorish shepherds, who herded a small flock of sheep and goats in an
oasis.[5] At last we arrived at the tents after which we were searching,
and found in them three Mooresses and two little children, who did not
seem in the least frightened by our visit. A negro servant, belonging to
an officer of marine, interpreted between us; and the good women, who,
when they had heard of our misfortunes, offered us millet and water for
payment. We bought a little of that grain at the rate of thirty pence a
handful; the water was got for three francs a glass; it was very good,
and none grudged the money it cost. As a glass of water, with a handful
of millet, was but a poor dinner for famished people, my father bought
two kids, which they would not give him under twenty piasters. We
immediately killed them, and our Mooresses boiled them in a large
kettle. Whilst our repast was preparing, my father, who could not afford
the whole of the expense, got others to contribute to it; but an old
officer of marine, who was to have been captain of the port of Senegal,
was the only person who refused, notwithstanding he had about him nearly
three thousand francs, which he boasted of in the end. Several soldiers
and sailors had seen him count it in round pieces of gold, on coming
ashore on the Desert, and reproached him for his sordid avarice; but he
seemed insensible to their reproaches, nor eat the less of his portion
of kid with his companions in misfortune.
[Footnote 5: Oasis, a fertile tract of land situated among sand.
T.]
When about to resume our journey, we saw several Moors approaching to us
armed with lances. Our people instantly seized their arms, and put
themselves in readiness to defend us in case of an attack. Two officers,
followed by several soldiers and sailors, with our interpreter, advanced
to discover their intentions. They instantly returned with the Moors,
who said, that far from wishing to do us harm, they had come to offer us
their assistance, and to conduct us to Senegal. This offer being
accepted of with gratitude by all of us, the Moors, of whom we had been
so afraid, became our protectors and friends, verifying the old proverb,
_there are good people every where_! As the camp of the Moors was at
some considerable distance from where we were, we set off altogether to
reach it before night. After having walked about two leagues through the
burning sands, we found ourselves again upon the shore. Towards night,
our conductors made us strike again into the interior, saying we were
very near their camp, which is called in their language Berkelet. But
the short distance of the Moors was found very long by the females and
the children, on account of the downs of sand which we had to ascend and
descend every instant, also of prickly shrubs over which we were
frequently obliged to walk. Those who were barefooted, felt most
severely at this time the want of their shoes. I myself lost among the
bushes various shreds of my dress, and my feet and legs were all
streaming with blood. At length, after two long hours of walking and
suffering, we arrived at the camp of that tribe to which belonged our
Arab conductors. We had scarcely got into the camp, when the dogs, the
children, and the Moorish women, began to annoy us. Some of them threw
sand in our eyes, others amused themselves by snatching at our hair, on
pretence of wishing to examine it. This pinched us, that spit upon us;
the dogs bit our legs, whilst the old harpies cut the buttons from the
officers coats, or endeavoured to take away the lace. Our conductors,
however, had pity on us, and chased away the dogs and the curious crowd,
who had already made us suffer as much as the thorns which had torn our
feet. The chiefs of the camp, our guides, and some good women, at last
set about getting us some supper. Water in abundance was given us
without payment, and they sold us fish dried in the sun, and some
bowlfuls of sour milk, all at a reasonable price.
We found a Moor in the camp who had previously known my father at
Senegal, and who spoke a little French. As soon as he recognised him, he
cried, "Tiens toi, Picard! ni a pas connaitre moi Amet?" Hark ye,
Picard, know you not Amet? We were all struck with astonishment at
these French words coming from the mouth of a Moor. My father
recollected having employed long ago a young goldsmith at Senegal, and
discovering the Moor Amet to be the same person, shook him by the hand.
After that good fellow had been made acquainted with our shipwreck, and
to what extremities our unfortunate family had been reduced, he could
not refrain from tears; and this perhaps was the first time a Musulman
had ever wept over the misfortunes of a Christian. Amet was not
satisfied with deploring our hard fate; he was desirous of proving that
he was generous and humane, and instantly distributed among us a large
quantity of milk and water free of any charge. He also raised for our
family a large tent of the skins of camels, cattle and sheep, because
his religion would not allow him to lodge with Christians under the same
roof. The place appeared very dark, and the obscurity made us uneasy.
Amet and our conductors lighted a large fire to quiet us; and at last,
bidding us good night, and retiring to his tent, said, "Sleep in peace;
the God of the Christians is also the God of the Musulmen."
We had resolved to quit this truly hospitable place early in the
morning; but during the night, some people who had probably too much
money, imagined the Moors had taken us to their camp to plunder us. They
communicated their fears to others, and pretending that the Moors, who
walked up and down among their flocks, and cried from time to time, to
keep away the ferocious beasts, had already given the signal for
pursuing and murdering us. Instantly a general panic seized all our
people, and they wished to set off forthwith. My father, although he
well knew the perfidy of the inhabitants of the Desert, endeavoured to
assure them we had nothing to fear, because the Arabs were too
frightened for the people of Senegal, who would not fail to avenge us if
we were insulted; but nothing could quiet their apprehensions, and we
had to take the route during the middle of the night. The Moors being
soon acquainted with our fears, made us all kinds of protestations; and
seeing we persisted in quitting the camp, offered us asses to carry us
as far as the Senegal. These beasts of burden were hired at the rate of
12 francs a day, for each head, and we took our departure under the
guidance of those Moors who had before conducted us to the camp. Amet's
wife being unwell, he could not accompany us, but recommended us
strongly to our guides. My father was able to hire only two asses for
the whole of our family; and as it was numerous, my sister Caroline, my
cousin, and myself, were obliged to crawl along, whilst my unfortunate
father followed in the suite of the caravan, which in truth went much
quicker than we did.
A short distance from the camp, the brave and compassionate Captain
Begnere, seeing we still walked, obliged us to accept of the ass he had
hired for himself, saying he would not ride when young ladies, exhausted
with fatigue, followed on foot. The King afterwards honourably
recompensed this worthy officer, who ceased not to regard our
unfortunate family with a care and attention I will never forget.
During the remainder of the night, we travelled in a manner sufficiently
agreeable, mounting alternately the ass of Captain Begnere.
CHAPTER IX.
THE CARAVAN REGAINS THE SHORE--A SAIL IS DISCOVERED--IT BRINGS
ASSISTANCE TO THE CARAVAN--GREAT GENEROSITY OF AN
ENGLISHMAN--CONTINUATION OF THEIR JOURNEY--EXTRAORDINARY
HEAT--THEY KILL A BULLOCK--REPAST OF THE CARAVAN--AT LAST THEY
DISCOVER THE RIVER SENEGAL--JOY OF THE UNFORTUNATE--M. PICARD
RECEIVES ASSISTANCE FROM SOME OLD FRIENDS AT SENEGAL--HOSPITALITY
OF THE INHABITANTS OF THE ISLAND OF ST LOUIS TOWARDS EVERY PERSON
OF THE CARAVAN.
At five in the morning of the 11th of July we regained the sea-shore.
Our asses, fatigued with the long journey among the sands, ran instantly
and lay down among the breakers, in spite of our utmost exertions to
prevent them. This caused several of us to take a bath we wished not: I
was myself held under my ass in the water, and had great difficulty in
saving one of my young brothers who was floating away. But, in the end,
as this incident had no unfortunate issue, we laughed, and continued our
route, some on foot, and some on the capricious asses. Towards ten
o'clock, perceiving a ship out at sea, we attached a white handkerchief
to the muzzle of a gun, waving it in the air, and soon had the
satisfaction of seeing it was noticed. The ship having approached
sufficiently near the coast, the Moors who were with us threw themselves
into the sea, and swam to it. It must be said we had very wrongfully
supposed that these people had had a design against us, for their
devotion could not appear greater than when five of them darted through
the waves to endeavour to communicate between us and the ship;
notwithstanding, it was still a good quarter of a league distant from
where we stood on the beach. In about half an hour we saw these good
Moors returning, making float before them three small barrels. Arrived
on shore, one of them gave a letter to M. Espiau from M. Parnajon. This
gentleman was the captain of the Argus brig, sent to seek after the
raft, and to give us provisions. This letter announced a small barrel of
biscuit, a tierce of wine, a half tierce of brandy, and a Dutch cheese.
O fortunate event! We were very desirous of testifying our gratitude to
the generous commander of the brig, but he instantly set out and left
us. We staved the barrels which held our small stock of provisions, and
made a distribution. Each of us had a biscuit, about a glass of wine, a
half glass of brandy, and a small morsel of cheese. Each drank his
allowance of wine at one gulp; the brandy was not even despised by the
ladies. I however preferred quantity to quality, and exchanged my ration
of brandy for that of wine. To describe our joy, whilst taking this
repast, is impossible. Exposed to the fierce rays of a vertical sun;
exhausted by a long train of suffering; deprived for a long while the
use of any kind of spirituous liquors, when our portions of water, wine,
and brandy, mingled in our stomachs we became like insane people. Life,
which had lately been a great burden, now became precious to us.
Foreheads, lowering and sulky, began to unwrinkle; enemies became most
brotherly; the avaricious endeavoured to forget their selfishness and
cupidity; the children smiled for the first time since our shipwreck; in
a word, every one seemed to be born again from a condition melancholy
and dejected. I even believe the sailors sung the praises of their
mistresses.
This journey was the most fortunate for us. Some short while after our
delicious meal, we saw several Moors approaching, who brought milk and
butter, so that we had refreshments in abundance. It is true we paid a
little dear for them; the glass of milk cost not less than three francs.
After reposing about three hours, our caravan proceeded on its route.
About six in the evening, my father finding himself extremely fatigued,
wished to rest himself. We allowed the caravan to move on, whilst my
step-mother and myself remained near him, and the rest of the family
followed with their asses. We all three soon fell asleep. When we awoke,
we were astonished at not seeing our companions. The sun was sinking in
the west. We saw several Moors approaching us, mounted on camels; and my
father reproached himself for having slept so long. Their appearance
gave us great uneasiness, and we wished much to escape from them, but my
step-mother and myself fell quite exhausted. The Moors, with long
beards, having come quite close to us, one of them alighted and
addressed us in the following words. "Be comforted, ladies; under the
costume of an Arab, you see an Englishman who is desirous of serving
you. Having heard at Senegal that Frenchmen were thrown ashore on these
deserts, I thought my presence might be of some service to them, as I
was acquainted with several of the princes of this arid country." These
noble words from the mouth of a man we had at first taken to be a Moor,
instantly quieted our fears. Recovering from our fright, we rose and
expressed to the philanthropic Englishman the gratitude we felt. Mr
Carnet,[6] the name of the generous Briton, told us that our caravan,
which he had met, waited for us at about the distance of two leagues. He
then gave us some biscuit, which we eat; and we then set off together to
join our companions. Mr Carnet wished us to mount his camels, but my
stepmother and myself, being unable to persuade ourselves we could sit
securely on their hairy haunches, continued to walk on the moist sand,
whilst my father, Mr Carnet, and the Moors who accompanied him,
proceeded on the camels. We soon reached a little river, called in the
country Marigot des Maringoins. We wished to drink of it, but found it
as salt as the sea. Mr Carnet desired us to have patience, and we should
find some at the place where our caravan waited. We forded that river
knee-deep. At last, having walked about an hour, we rejoined our
companions, who had found several wells of fresh water. It was resolved
to pass the night in this place, which seemed less arid than any we saw
near us. The soldiers, being requested to go and seek wood to light a
fire, for the purpose of frightening the ferocious beasts which were
heard roaring around us, refused; but Mr Carnet assured us, that the
Moors who were with him knew well how to keep all such intruders from
our camp. In truth, during the whole of the night, these good Arabs
promenaded round our caravan, uttering cries at intervals like those we
had heard in the camp of the generous Amet.
[Footnote 6: In the work of MM. Correard and Savigny, this
gentleman is made mention of in substance as follows. "On the
evening of the 11th, they met with more of the natives, and an
Irishman, captain of a merchantman, who, of his own accord, had
left St Louis with the intention of assisting the sufferers. He
spoke the language of the country, and was dressed in the Moorish
costume. We are sorry we cannot recollect the name of this foreign
officer, which we would have a real pleasure in publishing; but,
since time has effaced it from our memories, we will at least
publish his zeal and his noble efforts, titles well worthy the
gratitude of every feeling heart." pp. 164-165. Paris, 1818,
8vo.--_Trans._]
We passed a very good night, and at four in the morning continued our
route along the shore. Mr Carnet left us to endeavour to procure some
provisions. Till then our asses had been quite docile; but, annoyed with
their riders so long upon their backs, they refused to go forward. A fit
took possession of them, and all at the same instant threw their riders
on the ground, or among the bushes. The Moors, however, who accompanied
us, assisted to catch our capricious animals, who had nearly scampered
off, and replaced us on the hard backs of these headstrong creatures. At
noon the heat became so violent, that even the Moors themselves bore it
with difficulty. We then determined on finding some shade behind the
high mounds of sand which appeared in the interior; but how were we to
reach them! The sands could not be hotter. We had been obliged to leave
our asses on the shore, for they would neither advance nor recede. The
greater part of us had neither shoes nor hats; notwithstanding, we were
obliged to go forward almost a long league to find a little shade. The
heat reflected by the sands of the Desert could be compared to nothing
but the mouth of an oven at the moment of drawing out the bread;
nevertheless, we endured it; but not without cursing those who had been
the occasion of all our misfortunes. Arrived behind the heights for
which we searched, we stretched ourselves under the Mimosa-gommier, (the
acacia of the Desert), several broke branches from the asclepia
(swallow-wort), and made themselves a shade. But whether from want of
air, or the heat of the ground on which we were seated, we were nearly
all suffocated. I thought my last hour was come. Already my eyes saw
nothing but a dark cloud, when a person of the name of Borner, who was
to have been a smith at Senegal, gave me a boot containing some muddy
water, which he had had the precaution to keep. I seized the elastic
vase, and hastened to swallow the liquid in large draughts. One of my
companions, equally tormented with thirst, envious of the pleasure I
seemed to feel, and which I felt effectually, drew the foot from the
boot, and seized it in his turn, but it availed him nothing. The water
which remained was so disgusting, that he could not drink it, and
spilled it on the ground. Captain Begnere, who was present, judging, by
the water which fell, how loathsome must that have been which I had
drank, offered me some crumbs of biscuit, which he had kept most
carefully in his pocket. I chewed that mixture of bread, dust, and
tobacco, but I could not swallow it, and gave it all masticated to one
of my young brothers, who had fallen from inanition.
We were about to quit this furnace, when we saw our generous Englishman
approaching, who brought us provisions. At this sight I felt my strength
revive, and ceased to desire death, which I had before called on to
release me from my sufferings. Several Moors accompanied Mr Carnet, and
every one was loaded. On their arrival we had water, with rice and dried
fish in abundance. Every one drank his allowance of water, but had not
ability to eat, although the rice was excellent. We were all anxious to
return to the sea, that we might bathe ourselves, and the caravan put
itself on the road to the breakers of Sahara. After an hour's march of
great suffering, we regained the shore, as well as our asses, who were
lying in the water. We rushed among the waves, and after a bath of half
an hour, we reposed ourselves upon the beach. My cousin and I went to
stretch ourselves upon a small rising ground, where we were shaded with
some old clothes which we had with us. My cousin was clad in an
officer's uniform, the lace of which strongly attracted the eyes of Mr
Carnet's Moors. Scarcely had we lain down, when one of them, thinking we
were asleep, came to endeavour to steal it; but seeing we were awake,
contented himself by looking at us very steadfastly.
Such is the slight incident which it has pleased MM. Correard and
Savigny to relate in their account of the shipwreck of the Medusa in a
totally different manner. Believing doubtless to make it more
interesting or amusing, they say, that one of the Moors who were our
guides, either through curiosity or a stronger sentiment, approached
Miss Picard whilst asleep, and, after having examined her form, raised
the covering which concealed her bosom, gazing awhile like one
astonished, at length drew nearer, but durst not touch her. Then, after
having looked a long while, he replaced the covering; and, returning to
his companions, related in a joyous manner what he had seen. Several
Frenchmen having observed the proceedings of the Moor, told M. Picard,
who, after the obliging offers of the officers, decided in clothing the
rest of the ladies in the military dress on purpose to prevent their
being annoyed by the attentions of the inhabitants of the Desert. Mighty
well! I beg pardon of MM. Correard and Savigny, but there is not one
word of truth in all this. How could these gentlemen see from the raft
that which passed during the 12th of July on the shore of the Desert of
Sahara? And supposing that this was reported to them by some one of our
caravan, and inserted in their work, which contains various other
inaccuracies, I have to inform them they have been deceived.
About three in the morning, a north-west wind having sprung up and a
little refreshed us, our caravan continued its route; our generous
Englishman again taking the task of procuring us provisions. At four
o'clock the sky became overcast, and we heard thunder in the distance.
We all expected a great tempest, which, happily did not take place.
Near seven we reached the spot where we were to wait for Mr. Carnet, who
came to us with a bullock he had purchased. Then quitting the shore, we
went into the interior to seek a place to cook our supper. We fixed our
camp beside a small wood of acacias, near to which were several wells or
cisterns of fresh water. Our ox was instantly killed, skinned, cut to
pieces, and distributed. A large fire was kindled, and each was occupied
in dressing his meal. At this time I caught a smart fever;
notwithstanding I could not help laughing at seeing every one seated
round a large fire holding his piece of beef on the point of a bayonet,
a sabre, or some sharp-pointed stick. The flickering of the flames on
the different faces, sunburned and covered with long beards, rendered
more visible by the darkness of the night, joined to the noise of the
waves and the roaring of ferocious beasts which we heard in the
distance, presented a spectacle at once laughable and imposing. If a
David or a Girodet had seen us, said I to myself, we would soon have
been represented on canvass in the galleries of the Louvre as real
cannibals; and the Parisian youth, who know not what pleasure it is to
devour a handful of wild purslain, to drink muddy water from a boot, to
eat a roast cooked in smoke--who know not, in a word, how comfortable it
is to have it in one's power to satisfy one's appetite when hungry in
the burning deserts of Africa, would never have believed that, among
these half-savages, were several born on the banks of the Seine.
Whilst these thoughts were passing across my mind, sleep overpowered my
senses. Being awaked in the middle of the night, I found my portion of
beef in the shoes which an old sailor had lent me for walking among the
thorns. Although it was a little burned and smelt strongly of the dish
in which it was contained, I eat a good part of it, and gave the rest to
my friend the sailor. That seaman, seeing I was ill, offered to exchange
my meat for some which he had had the address to boil in a small
tin-box. I prayed him to give me a little water if he had any, and he
instantly went and fetched me some in his hat. My thirst was so great
that I drank it out of this nasty cap without the slightest repugnance.
A short while after, every one awoke, and again took the route for
arriving at Senegal at an early hour. Towards seven in the morning,
having fallen a little behind the caravan, I saw several Moors coming
towards me armed with lances. A young sailor boy, aged about twelve
years, who sometimes walked with me, stopped and cried in great terror,
"Ah! my God, lady, see the Moors are coming, and the caravan is already
a great way before us; if they should carry us away?" I told him to fear
nothing, although I was really more frightened than he was. These Arabs
of the Desert soon came up to us. One of them advanced with a
threatening air, and stopping my ass, addressed to me, in his barbarous
language, some words which he pronounced with menacing gestures. My
little ship-boy having made his escape, I began to weep; for the Moor
always prevented my ass going forward, who was perhaps as well content
at resting a little. However, from the gestures which he made, I
supposed he wished to know whither I was going, and I cried as loud as
I could, "_Ndar! Ndar!_" (Senegal! Senegal!) the only African words I
then knew. At this the Moor let go the bridle of my ass, and also
assisted me by making him feel the full weight of the pole of his lance,
and then ran off to his companions, who were roaring and laughing. I was
well content at being freed from my fears; and what with the word
_ndar_, and the famous thump of his spear, which was doubtless intended
for my ass, I soon rejoined the caravan. I told my parents of my
adventure, who were ignorant of what had detained me; they reprimanded
me as they ought, and I promised faithfully never again to quit them.
At nine o'clock we met upon the shore a large flock herded by young
Moors. These shepherds sold us milk, and one of them offered to lend my
father an ass for a knife which he had seen him take from his pocket. My
father having accepted the proposal, the Moor left his companions to
accompany us as far as the river Senegal, from which we were yet two
good leagues. There happened a circumstance in the forenoon which had
like to have proved troublesome, but it turned out pleasantly. The
steersman of the Medusa was sleeping upon the sand, when a Moor found
means to steal his sabre. The Frenchman awoke, and as soon as he saw the
thief escaping with his booty, rose and pursued him with horrid oaths.
The Arab, seeing himself followed by a furious European, returned, fell
upon his knees, and laid at the feet of the steersman the sabre which he
had stolen; who, in his turn, touched with this mark of confidence or
repentance, voluntarily gave it to him to keep. During this scene we
frequently stopped to see how it would terminate, whilst the caravan
continued its route. Suddenly we left the shore. Our companions
appearing quite transported with joy, some of us ran forward, and having
gained a slight rising ground, discovered the Senegal at no great
distance from them. We hastened our march, and for the first time since
our shipwreck, a smiling picture presented itself to our view. The trees
always green, with which that noble river is shaded, the humming birds,
the red-birds, the paroquets, the promerops, &c. who flitted among their
long yielding branches, caused in us emotions difficult to express. We
could not satiate our eyes with gazing on the beauties of this place,
verdure being so enchanting to the sight, especially after having
travelled through the Desert. Before reaching the river, we had to
descend a little hill covered with thorny bushes. My ass stumbling threw
me into the midst of one, and I tore myself in several places, but was
easily consoled when I at length found myself on the banks of a river of
fresh water. Every one having quenched his thirst, we stretched
ourselves under the shade of a small grove, whilst the beneficent Mr
Carnet and two of our officers set forward to Senegal to announce our
arrival, and to get us boats. In the meanwhile some took a little
repose, and others were engaged in dressing the wounds with which they
were covered.
At two in the afternoon, we saw a small boat beating against the current
of the stream with oars. It soon reached the spot where we were. Two
Europeans landed, saluted our caravans, and inquired for my father. One
of them said he came on the part of MM. Artigue and Laboure, inhabitants
of Senegal, to offer assistance to our family; the other added, that he
had not waited for the boats which were getting ready for us at the
island of St Louis, knowing too well what would be our need. We were
desirous of thanking them, but they instantly ran off to the boat and
brought us provisions, which my father's old friends had sent him. They
placed before us large baskets containing several loaves, cheese, a
bottle of Madeira, a bottle of filtered water, and dresses for my
father. Every one, who, during our journey, had taken any interest in
our unfortunate family, and especially the brave Captain Begnere, had a
share of our provisions. We experienced a real satisfaction in partaking
with them, and giving them this small mark of our gratitude.
A young aspirant of marine, who had refused us a glass of water in the
Desert, pressed with hunger, begged of us some bread; he got it, also a
small glass of Madeira.
It was four o'clock before the boats of the government arrived, and we
all embarked. Biscuit and wine were found in each of them, and all were
refreshed.
That in which our family were was commanded by M. Artigue, captain of
the port, and one of those who had sent us provisions. My father and he
embraced as two old friends who had not seen one another for eight
years, and congratulated themselves that they had been permitted to meet
once more before they died. We had already made a league upon the river
when a young navy clerk (M. Mollien) was suddenly taken ill. We put him
ashore, and left him to the care of a negro to conduct him to Senegal
when he should recover.
Immediately the town of St Louis presented itself to our view. At the
distance its appearance is fine; but in proportion as it is approached
the illusion vanishes, and it looks as it really is--dirty, very ill
built, poor, and filled with straw huts black with smoke. At six in the
evening we arrived at the port of St Louis. It would be in vain for me
to paint the various emotions of my mind at that delicious moment. I am
bold to say all the colony, if we except MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys,
were at the port to receive us from our boats. M. Artigue going on shore
first to acquaint the English governor of our arrival, met him coming to
us on horseback, followed by our generous conductor Mr Carnet, and
several superior officers. We went on shore carrying our brothers and
sisters in our arms. My father presented us to the English governor, who
had alighted; he appeared to be sensibly affected with our misfortunes,
the females and children chiefly exciting his commiseration. And the
native inhabitants and Europeans tenderly shook the hands of the
unfortunate people; the negro slaves even seemed to deplore our
disastrous fate.
The governor placed the most sickly of our companions in an hospital;
various inhabitants of the colony received others into their houses; M.
Artigue obligingly took charge of our family. Arriving at his house we
there found his wife, two ladies and an English lady, who begged to be
allowed to assist us. Taking my sister Caroline and myself, she
conducted us to her house, and presented us to her husband, who received
us in the most affable manner; after which she led us to her
dressing-room, where we were combed, cleansed, and dressed by the
domestic negresses, and were most obligingly furnished with linen from
her own wardrobe, the whiteness of which was strongly contrasted with
our sable countenances. In the midst of my misfortunes my soul had
preserved all its strength; but this sudden change of situation affected
me so much, that I thought my intellectual faculties were forsaking me.
When I had a little recovered from my faintness, our generous hostess
conducted us to the saloon, where we found her husband and several
English officers sitting at table. These gentlemen invited us to partake
of their repast; but we took nothing but tea and some pastry. Among
these English was a young Frenchman, who, speaking sufficiently well
their language, served to interpret between us. Inviting us to recite to
them the story of our shipwreck and all our misfortunes, which we did in
few words, they were astonished how females and children had been able
to endure so much fatigue and misery. We were so confused by our
agitation, that we scarcely heard the questions which were put to us,
having constantly before our eyes the foaming waves, and the immense
tract of sand over which we had passed. As they saw we had need of
repose, they all retired, and our worthy Englishwoman put us to bed,
where we were not long before we fell into a profound sleep.
CHAPTER X.
THE ENGLISH REFUSE TO CEDE THE COLONY OF SENEGAL TO THE
FRENCH--THE WHOLE OF THE FRENCH EXPEDITION ARE OBLIGED TO GO AND
ENCAMP ON THE PENINSULA OF CAPE VERD--THE PICARD FAMILY OBTAIN
LEAVE OF THE ENGLISH GOVERNOR TO REMAIN AT SENEGAL--POVERTY OF
THAT FAMILY--ASSISTANCE WHICH THEY RECEIVE--ENTERPRISE OF M.
PICARD--RESTORATION OF THE COLONY TO THE FRENCH--DESCRIPTION OF
SENEGAL AND ITS ENVIRONS.
At nine o'clock next morning, after our arrival, we felt quite free from
all our fatigues. We arose, and, as soon as we were dressed, went to
thank our generous host and hostess, Mr and Mrs Kingsley; then went to
see our parents; and afterwards returned to our benefactors, who were
waiting breakfast for us. Our conversation was frequently interrupted
during our meal, as they were but little acquainted with the French
language, and we knew nothing of English. After breakfast we learned
that the English governor had not received any orders for giving up the
colony to the French; and until that took place, the whole of the
French expedition would be obliged to go to the peninsula of Cape Verd,
distant from Senegal about fifty leagues. This information distressed us
much, but our affliction was at its height, when my father came and told
that the French governor, M. Schmaltz, had ordered him to quit Senegal
with all his family, and go and stay at Cape Verd, until farther orders.
Mr and Mrs Kingsley, sensibly affected with the misfortunes we had
already experienced, assured us they would not part with us, and that
they would endeavour to obtain the permission of the English governor.
In fact, on the following day, that gentleman informed us by his
aid-de-camp, that, having seen the wretched condition in which our
family were, he had allowed us to remain at Senegal, and that he had
permitted all the officers of the Medusa to stay. This renewed instance
of the benevolence of the English governor tranquillized us. We remained
comfortably at the house of our benefactors; but a great part of our
unhappy companions in misfortune, fearing if they stayed at Senegal they
would disobey the French governor, set off for Cape Verd, where hunger
and death awaited them. Our family lived nearly twenty days with our
benevolent hosts MM. Artigue and Kingsley; but my father, fearing we
were too great a burden for the extraordinary expenses which they made
each day for us, hired a small apartment, and, on the first of August,
we took possession of it, to the great regret of our generous friends,
who wished us to stay with them till the surrender of the colony. When
we were settled in out new habitation, my father sent a petition to M.
Schmaltz, for the purpose of obtaining provisions from the general
magazine of the French administration; but, angry with the reception we
had met with from the English, he replied he could not give him any
thing. Nevertheless, several French officers, who, like ourselves, had
remained at Senegal, each day received their rations, or, which was
better, were admitted to the table of M. D----, with whom also the
governor, his family and staff, messed. It may be remarked here, that
this same M. D----, advanced to the governor of the forts, in provisions
and money, to the amount of 50,000 francs; and, it was the general
opinion, found means to charge cent. per cent. on these advances, as a
small perquisite for himself; moreover, he received, at the request of
the governor, the decoration of the Legion of Honour. But I return to
that which concerns myself. My father being unable to obtain any thing,
either from the governor or M. D----, was obliged to borrow money to
enable us to subsist. We were reduced to feed on negroes food, for our
means would not allow us to purchase bread at 15 sous the pound, and
wine at 3 francs the bottle. However, we were content, and perfectly
resigned to our fate; when an English officer, Major Peddie, came and
visited us precisely at the moment we were at dinner. That gentleman,
astonished at seeing an officer of the French administration dining upon
a dish of Kouskou,[7] said to my father: "How, Mr Picard! you being in
the employment of your government, and living so meanly!" Mortified that
a stranger should have seen his misery, my father felt his tears
flowing; but, instantly collecting himself, said in a calm yet firm
tone, "Know, Sir, that I blush not for my poverty, and that you have
wronged me by upbraiding me. It is true I have not food like the other
Europeans in the colony; but I do not consider myself the more
unfortunate. I have requested the man who represents my sovereign in
this country, to give me the rations to which I have a right; but he has
had the inhumanity to refuse. But what of that? I know how to submit,
and my family also." Major Peddie, at these words, touched with our
misfortunes, and vexed, doubtless, at having mortified us, though that
certainly was not his intention, bade us good bye, and retired. Early on
the morning of next day, we received a visit from M. Dubois, mayor of
the town of St Louis in Senegal. That good and virtuous magistrate told
us he had come, at the instance of the English governor, to offer us
assistance; viz. an officer's allowance, which consisted of bread, wine,
meat, sugar, coffee, &c. As my father had not been able to procure any
thing from governor Schmaltz, he thought it his duty to accept that
which the English governor had so generously offered. We thanked M.
Dubois; and, in a few hours afterwards, we had plenty of provisions sent
to us.
[Footnote 7: Vide Note A.]
If my father had made himself some enemies among the authors of the
shipwreck of the Medusa, and the abandoning the raft, he was recompensed
by real good friends among the old inhabitants of Senegal, who, with
himself, deplored the fate of the unfortunate beings who were left in
the midst of the ocean. Among the numerous friends my father had, I
ought particularly to mention the families of Pellegrin, Darneville,
Lamotte, Dubois, Artigue, Feuilletaine, Laboure, Valentin, Debonnet,
Boucaline, Waterman, &c.: And in truth all the inhabitants of Senegal,
if we except one family, were disposed to befriend us. Even the poor
negroes of the interior, after hearing of our misfortunes, came and
offered us a small share of their crop. Some gave us beans, others
brought us milk, eggs, &c.; in a word, every one offered us some
assistance, after they had heard to what misery our shipwreck had
reduced us.
About a month after our arrival at Senegal, we went to look at the
islands of Babaguey and Safal, situated about two leagues from the town
of St Louis. The first of these islands had been given to M. Artigue,
who had cultivated it; the other had been given to my father in 1807,
and he had planted in it about one hundred thousand cotton plants, when
the capture of Senegal by the English in 1809 obliged him to abandon his
projects, and return to France.
Those who have seen the countries of Europe, and admired the fine soil
of France, need not expect to enjoy the same scene at Senegal. Every
where nature shows a savage and arid aspect; every where the dregs of a
desert and parched soil presents itself to the view; and it is only by
care and unremitting toil it can be made to produce any thing. All the
cotton which my father had planted in the island of Safal had been
devoured by the cattle during his absence; he found not a plant. He then
proposed to begin again his first operations. After having walked round
the island of Safal, we went to dine with M. Artigue in the island of
Babaguey, where we spent the remainder of the day, and in the evening
returned to the town of Senegal. Some days after this jaunt, my father
endeavoured to find whether the plants with which the island was covered
would be useful in making potass. He arranged with a person in Senegal
to hire for him some negroes, and a canoe to gather the ashes of the
plants after they were burned. A covered gallery which we had in the
small house we inhabited, seemed convenient to hold the apparatus of our
manufacture. Here we placed our coppers. We then commenced the making of
potass, waiting for the surrender of the colony. The first essay we made
gave us hopes. Our ashes produced a potass of fine colour, and we did
not doubt of succeeding, when we should have sent a sample of it to
France. We made about four barrels, and my father sent a box of it to a
friend of his at Paris to analyze. Whilst waiting the reply of the
chemist, he hired three negroes to begin the cultivation of his island
of Safal. He went himself to direct their operations, but he fell ill of
fatigue. Fortunately his illness was not of long continuance, and in the
month of December he was perfectly recovered. At this period an English
expedition went from Senegal into the interior of Africa, commanded by
Major Peddie,[8] the gentleman who had given so great assistance to the
unfortunates of the Medusa. That worthy philanthropic Englishman died
soon after his departure; we sincerely lamented him.
[Footnote 8: Vide Note B.]
On the 1st of January 1817, the colony of Senegal was surrendered to the
French. The English left it, some for Great Britain, others for Sierra
Leone and the Cape of Good Hope; and France entered into all her
possessions on the west coast of Africa. We remained yet a month in our
first house; at last we procured one much larger. My father then
commenced his functions of attorney, and we at last began to receive
provisions from the French government. The house in which we lived was
very large; but the employment which my father followed was very
incompatible with the tranquillity we desired. To remove us from the
noise and tumultuous conversations of the people who perpetually came to
the office, we had a small hut of reeds constructed for us in the midst
of our garden, which was very large. Here my sister, my cousin, and
myself, passed the greater part of the day. From that time we began to
see a little of the world, and to return unavoidable visits. Every
Sunday the family went to the island of Safal, where we very agreeably
spent the day; for that day seemed as short in the country, as the six
other days of the week were long and listless at Senegal. That country
was so little calculated for people of our age, that we continually
teazed our father to return with us to France. But as he had great
expectations from the manufacture of potass, he made us stay, as we
would be of great service to him in the end, for superintending the
works of that manufacture.
It is now time to give a brief description of Senegal and its environs,
to enable the reader better to appreciate that which I have to say in
the sequel.
Travellers who have written about Africa, have given too magnificent a
picture of that country known by the name of Senegal. Apparently, after
the fatigues of a long and tedious journey, they have been charmed with
the first fresh spot where they could repose. That first impression has
all the force of reality to the superficial observer; but if he remain
any time, the illusion vanishes, and Senegal appears what it really
is--a parched and barren country, destitute of the most necessary
vegetables for the nourishment and preservation of the health of man.
The town of St Louis, which is also called Senegal, because it is the
head-quarters of the French establishments on that coast, is built upon
a small island or a bank of sand, formed in the midst of the river
Senegal, at about two leagues from its mouth. It is two thousand toises
in length, and three hundred in breadth. The native inhabitants of the
country call it Ndar, and Ba-Fing, or Black River, the river which
waters it. The last name corresponds to that of Niger, which ancient
geographers have given to that river.
The population of St Louis is about ten thousand souls, five hundred of
whom are Europeans, two thousand negroes or free mulattoes, and nearly
seven thousand five hundred slaves. There are about one hundred and
fifty houses in St Louis inhabited by Europeans; the remainder consists
of simple squares, or huts of straw, which a slight flame would cause to
vanish in a moment, as well as all the houses of brick which are near
them. The streets are spacious, but not paved. The greater part are so
completely filled with sand, which the winds and hurricanes bring from
the deserts of Sahara, that it is nearly impossible to walk along them
when the winds are blowing. That fine and burning sand so impregnates
the air, that it is inhaled, and swallowed with the food; in short, it
penetrates every thing. The narrow and little frequented streets are
often blocked up. Some of the houses are fine enough; they have but one
story. Some have covered galleries; but in general the roofs are in the
Oriental fashion, in the form of a terrace.
The gardens of Senegal, though their plants have been much praised, are
nevertheless few in number, and in very bad condition. The whole of
their cultivation is limited to some bad cabbages, devoured by the
insects, a plot of bitter radishes, and two or three beds of salad,
withered before it is fit for use; but these vegetables, it must be
said, are very exquisite, because there are none better. The governor's
garden, however, is stocked with various plants, such as cucumbers,
melons, carrots, Indian pinks, some plants of barren ananas, and some
marigolds. There are also in the garden three date trees, a small vine
arbour, and some young American and Indian plants. But these do not
thrive, as much on account of the poverty of the soil, as the hot winds
of the Desert, which wither them. Some, nevertheless, are vigorous, from
being sheltered by walls, and frequently watered.
Five or six trees, somewhat bushy (island fig-trees), are planted here
and there in the streets, where may be seen also four or five baobabs,
the leaves of which are devoured by the negroes before they are fully
blown,[9] and a palm of the species of Ronn, which serves as a
signal-post for ships at sea.
[Footnote 9: The negroes use the leaves of the Baobab as gluten,
prepare their Kouskou, (a kind of pulp).]
A league and a half from the island of St Louis, is situated the island
of Babaguey. It is almost entirely cultivated, but the soil is so arid
that it will scarcely grow any thing but cotton. There is a military
station on this island, and a signal-post. MM. Artigue and Gansfort each
have a small dwelling here. The house, built in the European manner,
which is there seen, serves to hold the soldiers, and to accommodate the
officers of Senegal on their parties of pleasure.
The island of Safal is situated to the east of Babaguey, and is
separated from it by an arm of the river. This was the asylum which we
chose in the end to withdraw from misery, as will be seen in the sequel.
To the east of the island of Safal, is situated the large island of
Bokos, the fertility of which is very superior to the three preceding.
Here are seen large fields of millet, maize, cotton, and indigo, of the
best quality. The negroes have established large villages here, the
inhabitants of which live in happy ease.
To the north of these islands, and to the east of Senegal, is the island
of Sor, where resides a kind of Black Prince, called by the French Jean
Bart. The general aspect of this island is arid, but there are places
susceptible of being made into large plantations. M. Valentin, merchant
at St Louis, has already planted several thousand feet of cotton, which
is in a thriving condition. But that island being very much exposed to
the incursions of the Moors of the Desert, it would perhaps be
imprudent to live in it.
A multitude of other islands, formed by the encroachments of the river
upon the mainland, border on those of which I have already spoken,
several leagues distant to the north and east. They are principally
covered with marshes, which it would be difficult to drain. In these
islands grows the patriarch of vegetables described by the celebrated
Adanson, under the name of Baobab,[10] the circumference of which is
often found to be above one hundred feet.
[Footnote 10: Vide Note C.]
Several other islands, more or less extended than the preceding, rise
above the river near to St Louis, as far as Podor; the greater part of
which are not inhabited, although their soil is as fertile as those near
Senegal. This indifference of the negroes in cultivating these islands,
is explained by the influence which the Moors of the Desert of Sahara
are permitted to have over all the country bordering upon Senegal, the
inhabitants of which they carry off to sell to the slave merchants of
the island of St Louis. It is not to be doubted, that the abolition of
the slave trade, and the acquisition which the French have made in the
country of Dagama, will soon destroy the preponderance of the barbarians
of the Desert upon the banks of the Senegal; and that things being
placed on their former footing, the negroes established in the French
colonies will be permitted to enjoy in peace the fields which they have
planted.
Among all the islands, Tolde, which is about two leagues in
circumference, seems to be the most convenient for a military and
agricultural station. The fertility of its soil, and its being situated
between the two principal points where the gum trade is carried on,
gives it the triple advantage of being able to maintain the garrison
which is placed upon it, of protecting the trade and navigation of the
river, and of preventing the Moors from driving away the negroes from
their peaceful habitations. Plantations have already been made in the
island of Tolde, of coffee, sugar-canes, indigo, and cotton, which have
perfectly succeeded. M. Richard, agricultural botanist to the
government, has placed there a general nursery for the French
establishments. Three leagues from the island of Tolde, farther up the
river, is the village of Dagama, situated upon the left bank of the
river, and at the extremity of the kingdom of Brak, or of Walo. In that
village, the French have already planted several batteries, where begin
their agricultural establishments, which end about six leagues from the
island of St Louis. A large portion of that ground has been given to the
French planters, who have planted cotton upon it of the best kind, which
promises to be a branch of lucrative commerce to France. Here is placed
the plantation of M. Boucaline, as being the largest and best
cultivated, the king having given him a premium of encouragement of
10,000 franks. A little distant from the plantation of Boucaline are the
grounds of the royal grant, covered with more than ten thousand feet of
cotton. This beautiful plantation, established by the care of M. Roger,
now governor of Senegal, is at present directed by M. Rougemont with a
zeal above all praise.
Near to the village of Dagama, up the river, is the island of Morfil,
which is not less than fifty leagues from east to west, and about eight
or ten in breadth. The negroes of the republic of Peules cultivate great
quantities of millet, maize, indigo, cotton, and tobacco. The country of
the Peules negroes extends about one hundred and twenty leagues, by
thirty in breadth. It is a portion of the ancient empire of the negro
Wolofs, which, in former times, comprehended all the countries situated
between the rivers Senegal and Gambia. The country of the Peules is
watered by a branch of the Senegal, which they call Morfil; and, like
Lower Egypt, owes its extreme fertility to its annual overflowing. The
surprising abundance of their harvests, which are twice a year, makes it
considered as the granary of Senegal. Here are to be seen immense fields
finely cultivated, extensive forests producing the rarest and finest
kinds of trees, and a prodigious diversity of plants and shrubs fit for
dying and medicine.
To the east of the Peules is the country of Galam,[11] or Kayaga,
situated two hundred leagues from the island of St Louis. The French
have an establishment in the village of Baquel. This country, from its
being a little elevated, enjoys at all times a temperature sufficiently
cool and healthful. Its soil is considered susceptible of every species
of cultivation: the mines of gold and silver, which border upon it,
promise one day to rival the richest in the possession of Spain in the
New World. This conjecture is sufficiently justified by the reports sent
to Europe by the agents of the African and Indian Companies, and
particularly by M. de Buffon, who, in a MS. deposited in the archives
of the colonies, thus expresses himself:--"It is certain that there are
found in the sand of the rivers (in the country of Galam) various
precious stones, such as rubies, topazes, sapphires, and perhaps some
diamonds; and there are in the mountains veins of gold and silver." Two
productions, not less estimable perhaps than gold and silver, are
indigenous to this fine country, and increase in the most prodigious
manner there; viz. the Lotus, or bread-tree, of the ancients, spoken of
by Pliny, and the Shea, or butter-tree,[12] of which the English
traveller Mungo Park has given a description.
[Footnote 11: Vide Note D.]
[Footnote 12: Vide Note E.]
CHAPTER XI.
THE SICKNESS AND DEATH OF MADAME PICARD BREAK IN UPON THE
HAPPINESS OF THE FAMILY--M. PICARD TURNS HIS VIEWS TO
COMMERCE--BAD SUCCESS OF HIS ENTERPRISE--THE DISTRACTED AFFAIRS
OF THE COLONY DISGUST HIM--THE CULTIVATION OF THE ISLAND OF
SAFAL--SEVERAL MERCHANTS PROTEST AGAINST M. PICARD APPLYING
HIMSELF TO COMMERCE--DEPARTURE OF THE EXPEDITION TO THE ISLAND OF
GALAM--M. PICARD IS DEPRIVED OF HIS EMPLOYMENT AS ATTORNEY--HIS
ELDEST DAUGHTER GOES TO LIVE IN THE ISLAND OF SAFAL WITH TWO OF
HER BROTHERS.
We were happy enough, at least content, at Senegal, until the sickness
of my stepmother broke in upon the repose we enjoyed. Towards the middle
of July 1817, she fell dangerously ill; all the symptoms of a malignant
fever appeared in her; and in spite of all the assistance of art and the
care we bestowed upon her, she died in the beginning of November of the
same year. Her loss plunged us all into the deepest affliction. My
father was inconsolable. From that melancholy period, there was no
happiness for our unfortunate family: chagrin, sickness, enemies, all
seemed to conspire against us. A short while after her death my father
received a letter from the chemist at Paris, informing him that the
sample of potass which he had sent to France was nothing but marine
salt, and some particles of potass and saltpetre. This news, although
disagreeable, did not affect us, because we had still greater
misfortunes to deplore. About the end of the year, my father finding his
employment would scarcely enable him to support his numerous family,
turned his attention to commerce, hoping thus to do some good, as he
intended to send me to look after the family, and to take charge of the
new improvements in the island, which had become very dear to him from
the time he had deposited in it the mortal remains of his wife and his
youngest child. For the better success of his project, he went into
co-partnery with a certain personage in the colony; but instead of
benefiting his speculations, as he had flattered himself, it proved
nothing but loss. Besides he was cheated in an unworthy manner by the
people in whom he had placed his confidence; and as he was prohibited by
the French authorities from trafficking, he could not plead his own
defence, nor get an account of the merchandise of which they had
defrauded him. Some time after he had sustained this loss, he bought a
large boat, which he refitted at a considerable expense. He made the
purchase in the hope of being able to traffic with the Portuguese of the
island of Cape Verd, but in vain; the governor of the colony prohibited
him from all communication with these islands.
Such were the first misfortunes which we experienced at Senegal, and
which were only the precursors of still greater to come.
Besides all these, my father had much trouble and vexation to endure in
the employment he followed. The bad state of the affairs of the colony,
the poverty of the greater part of its inhabitants, occasioned to him
all sorts of contradictions and disagreements. Debts were not paid, the
ready money sales did not go off; processes multiplied in a frightful
manner; every day creditors came to the office soliciting actions
against their debtors; in a word, he was in a state of perpetual torment
either with his own personal matters, or with those of others. However,
as he hoped soon to be at the head of the agricultural establishment
projected at Senegal, he supported his difficulties with great courage.
In the expedition which was to have taken place in 1815, the Count
Trigant de Beaumont, whom the king had appointed governor of Senegal,
had promised my father to reinstate him in the rank of captain of
infantry, which he had held before the Revolution, and after that to
appoint him to the command of the counting-house of Galam, dependent
upon the government of Senegal. In 1816, my father again left Paris with
that hope, for the employment of attorney did not suit his disposition,
which was peaceable and honest. He had the first gift of the documents
concerning the countries where they were to found the agricultural
establishments in Africa, and had proposed plans which were accepted of
at the time by the President of the Council of State, and by the
Minister of Marine, for the colonization of Senegal; but the
unfortunate events of 1815 having overturned every thing, another
governor was nominated for that colony in place of Count Trigant de
Beaumont. All his plans and proposed projects were instantly altered for
the purpose of giving them the appearance of novelty; and my father
found himself in a situation to apply these lines of Virgil to himself.
"Hos ego versiculos feci, tulit alter honores."
These lines I made, another has the praise.
At first the new governor (M. Schmaltz) was almost disposed to employ my
father in the direction of the Agricultural Establishment of Senegal;
but he allowed himself to be circumvented by certain people, to whom my
father had perhaps spoken too much truth. He thought no more of him, and
we were set up as a mark of every kind of obloquy.
Finding then that he could no longer reckon upon the promises which had
been made to him on the subject of the plans which he had proposed for
the colony of Senegal, my father turned his attention to the island of
Safal, which seemed to promise a little fortune for himself and family.
He doubled the number of his labouring negroes, and appointed a black
overseer for superintending his work.
In the beginning of 1818, we believed our cotton crop would make us
amends for the loss which we had sustained at various times. All our
plants were in the most thriving condition, and promised an abundant
harvest. We had also sown maize, millet, and some country beans, which
looked equally well.
At this period, M. Schmaltz was recalled to France. M. Flauriau
succeeded him; but the nomination of the new governor did not alleviate
our condition. Every Sunday my father went to visit his plantation, and
to give directions for the labours of the week. He had built a large hut
for the overseer, upon the top of a little hill, which was almost
exactly in the centre of the island. It was at a little distance from
the small house which he had raised as a tomb, to receive the remains of
his wife and child, whom he had at first buried in a place to the south
of the cotton field. He surrounded the monument of his sorrow with a
kind of evergreen bean tree, which soon crept over the grave, and
entirely concealed it from the view. This little grove of verdure
attracted, by the freshness of its foliage, a multitude of birds, and
served them for a retreat. My father never left this place but he was
more tranquil, and less affected with his misfortunes.
Towards the middle of April, seeing his plants had produced less cotton
than he expected, and that the hot winds and grasshoppers had made great
havock in his plantations, my father decided to leave upon it but one
old negro, for superintending the day-labourers, whom he had reduced to
four. In the mean time, we learned that some merchants, settled at
Senegal, had written to France against my father. They complained that
he had not employed sufficient severity against some unfortunate persons
who had not been able to pay their debts; and they exclaimed against
some miserable speculations which he had made in the country of Fouta
Toro, for procuring grain necessary for the support of his negroes.
The expedition to Galam making preparations for its departure,[13] my
father, in spite of the insinuations of some merchants of the colony,
was desirous also of trying his fortune. He associated himself with a
person who was to make the voyage; he bought European goods, and
refitted his boat, which again occasioned him loss. Towards the middle
of August 1818, the expedition set off. A month after its departure, my
cousin, whom the country had considerably affected, returned to France,
to our great regret. My sister and myself found ourselves the only
society to enable us to support our sorrows; however, as we hoped to
return to France in a few years, we overcame our disappointment. We had
already in some degree recovered our tranquillity, in spite of all our
misfortunes and the solitude in which we lived, when my father received
a letter from the governor of the colony, announcing to him, that, by
the decision of the Minister of Marine, a new attorney had come to
Senegal, and enjoining him at the same time to place the papers of the
office in the hands of his successor.
[Footnote 13: The voyage from Senegal to the country of Galam is
made but once a year, because it is necessary to take advantage of
the overflowing of the river, either in coming or going. The
merchant boats which are destined to make the voyage, look like a
fleet, and depart in the middle of August, under escort of a
king's ship, commissioned to pay the droits and customs to the
Negro princes of the interior, with whom that colony is
connected.]
Such a circumstance could not fail to affect us much; for the few
resources we possessed made us anticipate an event almost as horrible as
the shipwreck, which exposed our family to all the horrors of want in
the boundless deserts of Sahara. My father, however, having nothing with
which he could reproach himself, courageously supported this new
misfortune, hoping sooner or later to be able to unmask those who had
urged his ruin. He wrote a letter to his Excellency the Minister of
Marine, in which he detailed the affairs of the office of the colony,
the regularity of the accounts, the unfortunate condition to which his
numerous family were reduced by the loss of his employment, and
concluded with these words:--"Broken without being heard, at the end of
twenty-nine years of faithful service, but too proud to make me afraid
of a disgrace which cannot but be honourable to me, especially as it has
its source in those philanthropic principles which I manifested in the
abandoning of the raft of the Medusa, I resign myself in silence to my
destiny."
This letter, full of energy, although a little too firm, failed not to
affect the feeling heart of the Minister of Marine, who wrote to the
governor of Senegal to give my father some employment in the
administration of the colony. But that order had either remained too
long in the office of the minister, or the governor of Senegal had
judged it proper not to communicate the good news to us, as we did not
hear of the order of the minister till after the death of my father,
nearly fifteen months after its date.
When my father had rendered his accounts, and installed his successor
into the colony's office, he told me it would be quite necessary to
think of returning into his island of Safal, to cultivate it ourselves.
He persuaded me that our plantation suffered solely from the want of our
personal care, and that the happiness and tranquillity of a country life
would soon make us forget our enemies and our sufferings. It was then
decided that I should set off on the morrow, with two of my brothers, to
go and cultivate the cotton at the plantation. We took our little
shallop, and two negro sailors, and, by daybreak, were upon the river,
leaving at Senegal my father, my sister Caroline, and the youngest of
our brothers and sisters.
CHAPTER XII.
MISS PICARD LIVES IN THE ISLAND OF SAFAL--HER MANNER OF
LIVING--SUFFERINGS SHE ENDURED--SHE GATHERS FLOWERS WHICH CONTAIN
A DELETERIOUS POISON--HER TWO BROTHERS FALL SICK--THEY ARE
CONVEYED TO SENEGAL--MISS PICARD OVERCOME WITH MELANCHOLY ALSO
FALLS SICK--STATE IN WHICH SHE IS FOUND--A NEGRO BOILS FOR HER AN
OLD VULTURE--RETURN OF MISS PICARD TO SENEGAL--HER
CONVALESCENCE--HER RETURN TO THE ISLAND OF SAFAL--M. PICARD GOES
THERE TO LIVE WITH ALL HIS FAMILY--DESCRIPTION OF THE FURNITURE
OF THE AFRICAN COTTAGE--COUNTRY LIFE--COMFORT OF THEIR
FIRESIDE--WALKS OF THE FAMILY--LITTLE PLEASURES WHICH THEY ENJOY.
For the space of two months I endured, as did my little brothers, the
beams of a burning sun, the irritations of insects and thorns, and the
want of that food to which we had been accustomed. I suffered during all
the day from a severe headache; but I collected from the ground which
belonged to us the cotton, on which were founded all our hopes. At
night my two young brothers and myself retired into the cottage, which
we used in the island; the working negroes brought the cotton we had
collected during the day; after which I set about preparing supper. The
children, accompanied by the old negro Etienne (the keeper of the
plantation), went and picked up some branches of dry wood. We lighted a
large fire in the middle of the hut, and I kneaded the cakes of millet
flour which were to be our supper, as well as what was to supply us next
day. My paste being prepared, I laid each cake upon the fire which the
children had lighted. Often, and especially when we were very hungry, I
placed them on a shovel of iron which I set upon the fire. This quick
mode of proceeding procured us millet-bread in less than half an hour;
but it must be confessed that this species of wafers or cakes, though
well enough prepared and baked, was far from having the taste of those
we eat at Paris. However, to make them more palatable, I added butter
when I had it, or we ate them with some sour milk. With the first dish
was served up at the same time the dessert, which stood in place of
dainties, of roast meat and salad; it generally consisted of boiled
beans, or roasted pistachio nuts. On festival days, being those when my
father came to see us, we forgot our bad fare in eating the sweet bread
he brought with him from Senegal.
In the month of December 1818, having gone one morning with my brothers
to take a walk among the woods behind our cottage, I found a tree
covered with blossoms as white as snow, and which had a delicious smell.
We gathered a great quantity of them, which we carried home; but these
flowers, as we afterwards found by sad experience, contained a
deleterious poison. Their strong and pungent odour caused violent pains
in the head, forerunners of a malignant fever, which brought us within
two steps of the grave. Two days after my young brothers were seized;
fortunately my father arrived on the following day, and removed them to
Senegal.
Now then I was alone with my old negro Etienne in the island of Safal,
far from my family, isolated in the midst of a desert island, in which
the birds, the wolves, and the tigers, composed the sole population. I
gave free course to my tears and sorrows. The civilized world, said I to
myself, is far from me, an immense river separates me from my friends.
Alas! what comfort can I find in this frightful solitude? What can I do
upon this wretched earth? But although I had said I was unfortunate, was
I not necessary to my unhappy father? Had I not promised to assist him
in the education of his children, whom cruel death had deprived of their
mother? Yes! yes! I was too sensible my life was yet necessary. Engaged
in these melancholy reflections, I fell into a depression of mind which
it would be difficult to describe. Next morning the tumult of my
thoughts led me to the banks of the river, where the preceding evening I
had seen the canoe carry away my father and my young brothers. There I
fixed my humid eyes upon the expanse of water without seeing any thing
but a horrible immensity; then, as recovered from my sorrow, I turned to
the neighbouring fields to greet the flowers and plants which the sun
was just beginning to gild. They were my friends, my companions; they
alone could yet alleviate my melancholy, and render my loneliness
supportable. At last the star of day arising above the horizon,
admonished me to resume my labours.
Having returned to the cottage, I went to the harvest with Etienne. For
the space of two days, I continued at my accustomed occupation, but on
the morning of the third, on returning from the plantation to the house,
I felt myself suddenly seized with a violent pain in my head. As soon as
I reached home I lay down. On the morning I found myself unable to rise
out of bed; a burning fever had manifested itself during the night, and
even deprived me of the hope of being able to return to Senegal.
I was incapable of doing any thing. The good Etienne, touched with my
condition, took his fowling-piece, and went into the neighbouring woods,
to endeavour to shoot me some game. An old vulture was the only produce
of the chase. He brought it to me, and, in spite of the repugnance I
expressed for that species of bird, he persisted in boiling some of it
for me. In about an hour afterwards, he presented me with a bowl of that
African broth; but I found it so bitter, I could not swallow it. I felt
myself getting worse, and every moment seemed to be the last of life. At
last, about noon, having collected all my remaining strength, I wrote to
my father the distressed state I was in; Etienne took the charge of
carrying my letter, and left me alone in the midst of our island. At
night I experienced a great increase of fever; my strength abandoned me
entirely; I was unable to shut the door of the house in which I lay. I
was far from my family; no human being dwelt in the island; no person
witnessed my sufferings; I fell into a state of utter unconsciousness,
and I knew not what I did during the remainder of the night. On the
following morning, having recovered from my insensibility, I heard some
person near me utter sorrowful cries; it was my good sister Caroline. I
opened my eyes, and, to my astonishment, found myself at Senegal,
surrounded by my afflicted family. I felt as if I had returned from the
other world. My father had set off on the instant he received my letter,
with Etienne to the island, and, finding me delirious, took me to
Senegal without my being conscious of it. Recovering by degrees from my
confusion, I was desirous of seeing my brothers, who had been attacked
the same way as myself. Our house looked like an hospital. Here a dying
child wished them to take away the monster he imagined he saw before his
bed; there another demanded something to drink, then, refusing to take
the medicines which were offered to him, filled the house with his
groans; at a distance my feeble voice was heard asking something to
quench the thirst which consumed me.
However, the unremitting care we received, as well as the generous
medicine of M. Quincey, with the tender concern of my father and my
sister Caroline, soon placed us out of danger. I then understood that
the flowers I had had the imprudence to collect in the wood of Safal,
had been the principal cause of my illness, as well as that of my
brothers. In the meanwhile, my father built two new huts in the island,
with the intention of going and living there with all his family. But,
as his affairs kept him yet some days at Senegal, he was prevented from
returning to Safal with the children to continue the collecting of
cotton. On the morrow, we all three set off. When we had arrived upon
the Marigot, in the island of Babaguey, we hailed the keeper of our
island to come and take us over in his canoe. In the mean time I amused
myself in looking at our habitation, which seemed to be very much
embellished since my departure, as it had been augmented with two new
cottages. I discovered the country to be much greener since I last saw
it; in a word, all nature seemed smiling and beautiful. At last Etienne,
to whom we had been calling for a quarter of an hour, arrived with his
canoe, into which we stepped, and soon were again in the island of
Safal.
Arrived at my cottage, I began to examine all the changes my father had
made during my illness. The small cottage situated to the west, I chose
as my sleeping apartment. It was well made with straw and reeds yet
green, and the window, whence was seen the cotton-field, was of the
greatest advantage to me. I began to clean the floor of our apartments,
which was nothing else than sand, among which were various roots and
blades of grass. After that I went to visit the little poultry yard,
where I found two ducks and some hens placed there a short while before.
I was very glad of these little arrangements; and returned to the
principal cottage to prepare breakfast. After this we betook ourselves
to the business of cotton gathering.
Eight days had already elapsed since our return to the island of Safal,
when one morning we perceived our shallop upon the river, which we
always knew by a signal placed upon the mast-head. It was my father, who
brought twelve negroes with him, which he had hired at Senegal, for
assisting him in the cultivation of his island. The men were instantly
set to break up the soil; the women and children assisted us in
gathering cotton. My father then dismissed the negroes, who worked by
the day, as he had to come and go to Senegal, where the urgency of his
business yet required his presence.
I remained a long while without seeing him; but, at the end of eight
days, I was agreeably surprised at finding our boat in the little bay of
Babaguey. I ran with the family negroes to disembark our effects, and I
soon had the pleasure of holding my sister Caroline in my arms. My
father came on shore afterwards with the youngest children, and all the
family found themselves united under the roof of the African Cottage, in
the island of Safal. "You see, my child," said my father to me on
entering our huts, "you see all our riches! we have neither moveables
nor house at Senegal; every thing we can claim as our own is here." I
embraced my father, and my brothers and sisters, and then went to unload
our boat. Our house was soon filled. It served at once for a cellar,
granary, store-house, a parlour, and bed-chamber. However, we found a
place for every thing. Next day we began to fit them up more
commodiously. My sister and myself lived in the small house to the west;
my father took up his residence in that towards the east; and the large
hut in the centre was the place where the children slept. Round about
the last we suspended some boards by cords, to hold our dishes and
various kitchen utensils. A table, two benches, some chairs, a large
couch, some old barrels, a mill to grind the cotton, implements of
husbandry, constituted the furniture of that cottage. Nevertheless, in
spite of its humbleness, the sun came and gilded our roofs of straw and
reeds. My father fitted up his cottage as a study. Here were boards
suspended by small cords, upon which his books and papers were arranged
with the greatest order;--there a fir board, supported by four feet,
driven into the ground, served as a desk; at a distance stood his gun,
his pistols, his sword, his clarionet, and some mathematical
instruments. A chair, a small couch, a pitcher, and a cup, formed his
little furniture.
Our cottage was situated on the top of a little hill of gentle ascent.
Forests of mangrove-trees, gum-trees, tamarind-trees, sheltered us on
the west, the north, and the east. To the south was situated the
plantation which we called South-field. This field was already covered
with about three hundred thousand feet of cotton, a third of which had
nearly begun to be productive. Upon the banks of the river, and to the
west of the cotton field, was situated our garden; finally, to the south
of the plain, were our fields of maize, beans, and millet.
Our little republic, to which my father gave laws, was governed in the
following manner:--We usually rose about day-break, and met altogether
in the large cottage. After having embraced our father, we fell upon our
knees to return thanks to the Supreme Being for the gift of another
day. That finished, my father led the negroes to their work, during
which my sister and myself arranged the family affairs, and prepared
breakfast, when, about eight o'clock, he returned to the cottage.
Breakfast being over, each took his little bag, and went and gathered
cotton. About noon, as the heat became insupportable, all returned to
the cottage, and worked at different employments. I was principally
charged with the education of my young brothers and sisters, and the
young negroes of the family. Round my little hut were suspended various
pictures for study, upon which I taught them to read according to the
method of mutual assistance. A bed of sand, smoothed upon a small bench,
served the younger ones to trace and understand the letters of the
alphabet: the others wrote upon slates. We bestowed nearly two hours
upon each exercise, and then my scholars amused themselves at different
games. At three o'clock, all returned to the cotton field, and remained
till five. Dinner, which we usually had at six, was followed by a little
family conversation, in which the children were interrogated concerning
what they had been taught during the day. When I was well pleased with
them, I promised them a story, or a fable, in the evening. Sometimes
after dinner, we went to take a short walk on the banks of the river;
then returned to the cottage, where Etienne had had the care of lighting
a large fire, the heat of which forced the musquitoes and gnats to yield
their place to the little circle which our family made round the hearth.
Then my sister Caroline and myself related some fables to the children,
or read them a lesson from the Evangelists or the Bible; whilst my
father smoked his pipe, amusing himself by contemplating all his family
around him. The hour of going to bed being arrived, we made a common
prayer, after which all retired to their separate huts to sleep.
Thus did our days glide away amid the occupations of the fields and the
recreations of the family. On Sundays, our labours were suspended.
Sometimes to spend the day more agreeably, and avoid the molestations of
the hunters, who often came to our island, we went to the island of
Bokos, situated to the east of Safal. On reaching it, we seated
ourselves under a large baobab, which was more than thirty feet in
circumference. After having finished our humble repast under the umbrage
of that wonderful tree, my father would go and amuse himself with the
chase; my sister Caroline and myself went to search for rare plants, to
assist our studies in botany; whilst the children hunted butterflies and
other insects. Charles, the eldest of the boys, swam like a fish; and,
when my father shot a duck or _aigrette_ upon the water, he would
instantly throw himself in, and fetch the game. At other times he would
climb to the top of the trees to rob the birds, or bury himself in the
midst of bushes to gather the fruits of the country, then ran, all
breathless and delighted, to present us with his discovery. We would
remain in the island till nearly four in the afternoon, then return to
our boat, and our negroes rowed us to our island.
During the time of the greatest heats, for we could not long endure the
rays of the sun, we passed a part of the Sunday under a very bushy
tamarind-tree, which stood at a little distance from our cottage. Thus,
in the good old times, did the lords, barons, and marquises gather
themselves under the old elms of the village, to discuss the concerns of
their vassals; in like manner did my father collect us under the
tamarind-tree to regulate the affairs of his republic, and also to enjoy
the landscapes which our island afforded. We sometimes took our meals
there, and on those occasions the ground served us at once for table,
table-cloth, and seat. The children gamboled on the grass, and played a
thousand tricks to amuse us. We now began to discover that every
condition of life had its own peculiar enjoyments. If the labours of the
week seemed long and laborious, the Sabbath recompensed us by our
country recreations. We lived thus for some time in the greatest
tranquillity. Shut up in a desert island, from all society, we ventured
to think we had discovered the condition of real happiness.
Every Wednesday we sent two negroes to the village of Gandiolle, to
purchase provisions, such as butter, milk, eggs, &c. One day, however,
my father resolved to purchase a cow and thirty fowls, that we might
have in our island all the little necessaries used by a family. Our
poultry yard being thus augmented, we looked upon ourselves as great as
the richest princes in Africa; and in truth, since we had a cottage,
milk, butter, eggs, maize, millet, cotton, tranquillity and health, what
more was necessary for our comfort?
CHAPTER XIII.
FRESH MISFORTUNES--DESERTION OF THE WORKING NEGROES--RETURN OF M.
SCHMALTZ TO SENEGAL--HOPE DESTROYED--GOVERNOR SCHMALTZ REFUSES
ALL KIND OF ASSISTANCE TO THE PICARD FAMILY--TIGERS DEVOUR THE
HOUSEHOLD DOG--TERROR OF MISS PICARD--BAD HARVEST--CRUEL PROSPECT
OF THE FAMILY--INCREASE OF MISFORTUNES--SOME GENEROUS PERSONS
OFFER ASSISTANCE TO M. PICARD.
Whilst we were thus enjoying in peace our little good fortune, my father
received a letter, desiring him to return to Senegal in all possible
speed. He went, and left me at the head of our establishment, but a
great misfortune happened, which we could not prevent;--six of our
labouring negroes, whom he had hired, deserted during the night, and
took our small boat with them. I was extremely distressed, and instantly
made Etienne swim the river, and go and beg of the President at Babaguey
to take him to my father, who was still at Senegal, to tell him the
melancholy news. That good negro was soon on the other side of the
water, and went to M. Lerouge (the name of the president), who gave him
his canoe. At night, we saw him returning without my father, who went
into the country to search for the fugitive negroes. He spent three
whole days in the countries of Gandiolle and Touby, which lie in the
neighbourhood of our island, but all his labour was in vain. The
deserting negroes had already gained the forests of the interior; and my
father, exhausted with fatigue, returned to Safal. I confess, though I
was deeply distressed at the desertion of these slaves, who were so
necessary to us for realizing our agricultural projects, my heart could
not blame these unfortunate creatures, who only sought to recover that
freedom from which they had been torn.
At this date, that is about the 1st of March 1819, we learned that M.
Schmaltz had returned from France, and was in the Bay of St Louis; and
that the Minister of Marine had approved of all the projects relative to
the agricultural establishment at Senegal. This news revived my father's
hopes. As this establishment had been originally proposed by him, he
flattered himself they would do him justice in the end. In this
expectation, he went to meet with governor Schmaltz, who had to pass our
house on the morrow; but he would not speak with him. On the following
day, my father wrote to him from the hotel at St Louis; four days after
which, we were assured that the governor was very far from wishing us
well, and still farther from doing justice to my father. However, some
of his friends encouraged him to make fresh endeavours, and persuaded
him he would obtain a premium of encouragement for having first set the
example of cultivating cotton at Senegal; they assured him also that
funds had been sent to M. Schmaltz for that purpose. Vain hope! every
claim was rejected, we had not even the satisfaction of knowing whether
the premium which my father sought was due to him or not; we got no
reply. My father wishing to make a last attempt to ward off the misery
which menaced us, went to supplicate the governor to allow us either
money to purchase food, or rations. This last petition was not more
successful than the former. We were abandoned to our unhappy fate,
whilst more than twenty persons, who had never done any service to the
government, received gratis rations every day from the magazines of the
colony. "Very well!" said my father to me, when he found he was refused
that assistance which M. Schmaltz had ordered to the other unfortunate
persons in the colony, "let the governor be happy if he can, I will not
envy his felicity. Behold, my child, behold this roof of thatch which
covers us; see these hurdles of reeds which moulder into dust, this bed
of rashes, my body already impaired by years, and my children weeping
around me for bread! You see a perfect picture of poverty! Nevertheless,
there are yet beings upon the earth more unfortunate than we
are!"--"Alas!" said I to him, "our misery is great; but I can support
it, and even greater, without complaining, if I saw you exposed to less
harassing cares. All your children are young, and of a good
constitution; we can endure misfortune, and even habituate ourselves to
it; but we have cause to fear that the want of wholesome and sufficient
food will make you fall, and then we shall be deprived of the only stay
we have upon earth."--"O! my dear child," cried my father, "you have
penetrated into the secrets of my soul, you know all my fears, and I
will no longer endeavour to conceal the sorrow which has weighed for a
long time upon my heart. However, my death may perhaps be a blessing to
my family; my bitter enemies will then doubtless cease to persecute
you."--"My father," replied I, "break not my heart; how can you,
forgetting your children, their tender affection, the assistance which
you ought to give them, and which they have a right to expect from you,
wish us to believe your death will be a benefit to us?" He was moved
with these words, and his tears flowed in abundance; then, pressing me
to his bosom, he cried, "No, no, my dear children, I will not die, but
will live to procure for you an existence more comfortable than that you
have experienced since we came to Senegal. From this moment I break
every tie which binds me to the government of this colony; I will go and
procure for you a new abode in the interior of the country of the
negroes; yes, my dear children, we will find more humanity among the
savage hordes that live in our neighbourhood, than among the greater
part of those Europeans who compose the administration of the colony."
In fact, some time after, my father obtained from the negro prince of
the province of Cayor, a grant on his estates, and we were to take
possession of it after the rainy season; but Heaven had decided
otherwise.
From this time, my father, always indignant at the manner in which the
governor had acted towards us, resolved to retire altogether to his
island, and to have as little intercourse with the Europeans of the
colony as he could. Nevertheless, he received with pleasure the friends
who from time to time came to visit us, and who sometimes carried him to
St Louis, where they disputed among themselves the pleasure of
entertaining him, and of making him forget his misfortunes by the
favours which they heaped upon him; but the mortifications he had
experienced in that town made him always impatient till he returned to
his island. One day as he returned from Senegal, after having spent two
days at the house of his friends, they lent him a negro mason to build
an oven for us; for till then we had always baked our bread upon the
embers. With this oven we were no longer obliged to eat our millet-bread
with the cinders which so plenteously stuck to it.
One morning, as he was preparing to take the negroes to their labour, he
perceived his dog did not follow him as usual. He called, but in vain.
Then he thought his faithful companion had crossed the river to
Babaguey, as he used to do sometimes. Arrived at the cotton-field, my
father remarked large foot-prints upon the sand, which seemed to be
those of a tiger, and beside them several drops of blood, and doubted
not that his poor Sultan had been devoured. He immediately returned to
the cottage to acquaint us with the fate of his dog, which we greatly
regretted. From that day the children were prohibited from going any
distance from home; my sister and myself durst no more walk among the
woods as we used to do.
Four days after the loss of the faithful Sultan, as we were going to
bed, we heard behind our cottage mewings like those of a cat, but much
louder. My father instantly rose, and, in spite of our entreaties and
fears, went out armed with his sword and gun, in the hope of meeting
with the animal whose frightful cries had filled us with dread; but the
ferocious beast, having heard a noise near the little hill where it was,
made a leap over his head, and disappeared in the woods. He returned, a
little frightened at the boldness and agility of the creature, and gave
up the pursuit till the following night. On the evening of the following
day, he caused some negroes to come from the island of Babaguey, whom he
joined with his own, and putting himself at their head, he thought he
would soon return with the skin of the tiger. But the carnivorous animal
did not appear during all that night; he contented himself with uttering
dismal howlings in the midst of the woods. My father being called to
Senegal by some of his friends, left us on the morrow. Before going, he
strictly enjoined us to keep fast the doors of the house, and to secure
ourselves against ferocious beasts. At night we barricadoed every avenue
to our cottage, and shut up the dog with us, which a friend of my father
had brought to him from the town to supply the place of that which we
had lost. But my sister and myself were but ill at ease; for our huts
being already decayed, we were afraid the tiger would get in, and devour
the successor of poor Sultan. However, Etienne came and quieted our
fears a little, by saying he would make the round of the huts during the
night. We then lay down, having left our lamp burning. Towards the
middle of the night, I was awoke by a hollow noise which issued from the
extremity of our large chamber. I listened attentively; and the noise
increasing, I heard our dog growling and also a kind of roaring like
that of a lion. Seized with the greatest terror, I awoke my sister
Caroline, who, as well as myself, thought a ferocious beast had got into
the cottage. In an instant our dog raised the most terrible barking; the
other animal replied by a hollow, but hideous growl. All this uproar
passed in my father's chamber. Our minds were paralyzed; the children
awoke, and came and precipitated themselves into our arms; but none
durst call Etienne to our assistance. At last my sister and myself
decided we should go and see what occasioned all this noise. Caroline
took the lamp in one hand, and a stick in the other, and I armed myself
with a long lance. Arrived at the middle of the large cottage, we
discovered at the end of my father's study our dog, who had seized a
large animal covered with yellowish hair. The fears which perplexed us
left us no doubt but that it was either a lion or at least a tiger. We
durst neither advance nor retreat, and our weapons fell from our hands.
In a moment these two furious creatures darted into the hut where we
were; the air was rent with their cries; our legs bent under us; we fell
upon the floor in a faint; the lamp was extinguished, and we believed we
were devoured. Etienne at length awoke, knocked at the door, then burst
it open, ran up to us, lighted the lamp, and showed us our mistake. The
supposed lion was nothing else than a large dog from the island of
Babaguey, fighting with ours. Etienne separated them with a stick; and
the furious animal, which had frightened us so much, escaped through the
same hole by which he had entered our house. We stopped up the opening
and retired to bed, but were not able to sleep. My father having
arrived next morning from Senegal, we recounted to him the fright we had
during the night, and he instantly set about repairing the walls of our
cottage.
It was now the beginning of May; our cotton harvest was completely
finished, but it was not so productive as we had hoped. The rains had
not been abundant the preceding year, which caused the deficiency in our
crop. We now became more economical than ever, to be able to pass the
bad season which had set in. We now lived entirely on the food of the
negroes; we also put on clothing more suitable to our situation than
that we had hitherto worn. A piece of coarse cotton, wrought by the
negroes, served to make us dresses, and clothes for the children; my
father was habited in coarse blue silk. On purpose to ameliorate our
condition, he sent on Sundays to Senegal a negro to purchase two or
three loaves of white bread. It was, in our melancholy condition, the
finest repast we could procure.
One Sunday evening, as all the family were seated round a large fire
eating some small loaves which had been brought from Senegal, a negro
from the main land gave my father a letter; it was from M. Renaud,
Surgeon-Major at Bakal in Galam, announcing to us, to complete the sum
of our misfortunes, that the merchandize he had sent to Galam the
preceding year had been entirely consumed by fire. "Now," cried my
unhappy father, "my ruin is complete! Nothing more wretched can touch
us. You see, my dear children, that Fortune has not ceased persecuting
us. We have nothing more to expect from her, since the only resource
which remained has been destroyed."
This new misfortune, which we little expected, plunged all our family in
the deepest distress. "What misfortunes! what mortifications!" cried I;
"it is time to quit this land of wretchedness! Leave it then, return to
France; there only we will be able to forget all our misfortunes. And
you, cruel enemies of my father, whom we have to reproach for all the
misery we have experienced in these lands, may you, in punishment for
all the evil you have done us, be tortured with the keenest remorse!"
It cost all the philosophy of my father to quiet our minds after the
fatal event. He comfor
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