exposed to the most dreadful torments: like us abandoned upon a raft, you
have had to struggle with those pressing wants which man cannot subdue,
hunger and thirst carried to the extreme! Our imagination carries us to
your fatal machine; we see your despair, your rage; we appreciate the whole
extent of your sufferings, and your misfortunes draw forth our tears. It is
then true that misfortune strikes more forcibly him who has had already to
struggle with adversity! The happy man scarcely believes in misfortune, and
often accuses him whose distresses he has caused.
A sailor who had refused to embark upon the raft, attempted also to reach
the shore some days after the first; he put himself on a chicken coop, but
he sunk within half a cable's length of the frigate.
Four men resolved not to leave the Medusa, alledging that they preferred
dying on board, to braving new dangers which it seemed impossible for them
to surmount. One of the four had just died when the schooner arrived, his
body had been thrown into the sea: the three others were very weak; two
days later they would have been no more. These unhappy men occupied each a
separate place, and never left it but to fetch provisions, which in the
last days consisted only of a little brandy, tallow, and salt pork. When
they met, they ran upon each other brandishing their knifes. As long as the
wine had lasted with the other provisions, they had kept up their strength
perfectly well; but as soon as they had only brandy to drink they grew
weaker every day.[41]
Every care was bestowed on these three men that their situation demanded,
and all three are now in perfect health.
After having given the necessary succours to the three men of whom we have
just spoken, they proceeded to get out of the frigate, every thing that
could be removed; they cut a large hole in her, (_on la saborda_,) and were
thus able to save wine, flour, and many other things. Mr. Corréa had the
simplicity to think that the shipwrecked people were going to recover a
part, at least, of their effects, since a vessel, belonging to the king,
had reached the frigate. But far from it! Those who were on board declared
themselves corsairs, and pillaged, as we may say, all the effects which
they could get at. One of them Mr. ------, carried off several
portmanteaus, and four hammocks, full of all kind of articles, the whole
for his own use.
The schooner having quite completed its cargo, and all attempts to recover
the 100,000 francs, of which we have spoken, being fruitless, returned to
Senegal. We saw this little vessel arrive, and our hearts beat with joy; we
thought we should see again our unfortunate companions, who had been
abandoned on board the frigate, and recover some clothes, of which we were
in much need. The schooner passed the bar, and in an hour or two had
traversed the space which separated it from us. In an instant we ran to the
port, and enquired if any of our unfortunate countrymen had been saved. We
were answered, three are still living, and fourteen have died since our
departure: this answer confounded us. We then asked if it had been possible
to save any of our effects; and were answered, _yes_, but that they were a
_good prize_; we could not understand this answer, but it was repeated to
us, and we learnt for the first time that we were at war with Frenchmen,
because we had been excessively unfortunate.
The next day the town was transformed into a public fair, which lasted at
least a week. There were sold effects belonging to the State, and those of
the unhappy crew who had perished; here, the clothes of those who were
still living, a little further was the furniture of the captain's cabin: in
another place were the signal flags, which the negroes were buying to make
themselves aprons and cloaks; at one place they sold the tackling and sails
of the frigate, at another bed-linen, frames, hammocks, quilts, books,
instruments, &c. &c.
But there is one thing that is sacred, respected by every man who serves
with honor, the rallying sign under which he ought to find victory or
death, the flag; what it will be asked became of it?... It was saved ...
Did it fall; into the hands of a Frenchman?... No! he who debases a
respectable sign, which represents a nation, cannot belong to that nation.
Well! this sign was employed in domestic uses.[42] Vases which belonged to
the captain of the frigate himself, were also saved, and were transferred
from his side-board to the table of the Governor, where Mr. de Chaumareys
recognized them, and it is from him we have received these details. It is
true that the ladies of the Governor had received them, as a present, from
those who went on board the schooner.
Nothing was now seen in the town but negroes dressed, some in jackets and
pantaloons, some in large grey great coats; others had shirts, waistcoats,
_police-bonnets_, &c. every thing, in short, presented the image of
disorder and confusion. Such was a part of the mission of the schooner: the
provisions, which it brought, were of the greatest choice to the French
Governor, who began to be in want of them.
Some days after, the Merchants of St. Louis, were authorized to go on board
the Medusa with their vessels, on the following conditions: they were to
equip the vessels at their own expence, and all the effects which they
could save out of the frigate were to be divided into two equal parts, one
for the government, the other for the owners of the vessels. Four schooners
sailed from St. Louis, and in a few days reached their destination: they
brought back to the colony a great quantity of barrels of flour, salt,
meat, wine, brandy, cordage, sails, &c. &c. This expedition was terminated
in less than twenty days. As the schooners arrived in the Senegal, the
proper way would have been to unload them, and deposit the things saved, in
a magazine, till the arrival of the French Governor, who was absent; it
appears to us, that, in making the division, his presence, or that of some
other competent authority was necessary. But whether the ship-owners, would
not wait for the return of the Governor, or whether they were in haste to
possess their share of the cargo, they went to Mr. Potin Agent, or Partner
of the house of Durecur, and begged him to divide the articles saved from
the frigate. We are ignorant whether Mr. Potin was authorized to make this
division; but whether he was authorised or not, we think he could not make
it, without the co-operation of one or more officers of the administration,
since he was himself one of the ship-owners. It would have been the more
easy to have this division superintended by an officer of the government,
as there were then three or four at St. Louis; among whom were the
secretary and the paymaster. Yet neither of them was called in to be
present at these operations, though they lasted some days. However, those
to whom the vessels belonged, shewed themselves much more generous to the
shipwrecked people, than those who went on board the frigate, with the
first schooner: the few books and effects which they had been able to save
were restored to such of the crew as claimed them.
A short time after these depredations were ended, some French officers and
soldiers, belonging as well to the land as the sea-service, and who were
still at St. Louis, received orders from the English Governor to go
immediately to the camp of Daccard: it was about the first of October. At
this time Mr. Corréard remained the only Frenchman in the hospital at St.
Louis, till he should be entirely recovered. We are entirely ignorant of
the reasons which induced this Governor to employ such severe measures
towards about twenty unhappy persons, among whom three officers had been
part of the crew of the fatal raft. He however, allowed the civil officers
to remain in the city.
Let us take a rapid survey of the new misfortunes which overtook some of
the unfortunate persons who escaped from the raft and the desert, and
remained plunged in a horrid hospital without assistance, and without
consolation, before we proceed to the history of the camp at Daccard, which
will terminate this account. Our readers will remember that it was on the
23d of July, that the men, who escaped from the raft, were united to the
sixty-three landed by the long boat, near the Moles of Angel.
Mr. Coudin, commander of the raft, and Mr. Savigny, were received at
Senegal by Mr. Lasalle, a French Merchant, who, on all occasions, bestowed
on them the most generous care, which spared them the new sufferings, to
which their companions in misfortune were exposed, and gives Mr. Lasalle a
title to their lasting gratitude.
As for Mr. Corréard, as soon as he was at the isle of St. Louis, he and
some others of our companions covered with wounds, and almost without life,
were laid upon truck-beds, which, instead of mattresses, had only blankets
doubled in four, with sheets disgustingly dirty; the four officers of the
troops were also placed in one of the rooms of the hospital, and the
soldiers and sailors in another room, near the first, and lying in the same
manner as the officers. The evening of their arrival, the Governor,
accompanied by the captain of the frigate, and by a numerous suite, came to
pay them a visit: the air of compassion, with which he addressed them, much
affected them; in this first moment, they were promised a guinea, linen to
clothe them, wine to restore their strength, and ammunition to amuse them
when they should be able to go out. Vain promises! It is to the compassion
of strangers, alone, that they were indebted for their existence for five
months. The Governor announced his departure for the camp at Duccard,
saying to these poor men who were left behind, that he had given orders
that they should want for nothing during his absence. All the French, able
to embark, departed with the Governor.
Left to themselves in the horrid abode which they inhabited, surrounded
with men in whom their cruel situation inspired no pity, our countrymen
again abandoned, gave vent to their distress in useless complaints. In vain
they represented to the English physician that the ordinary ration of a
common soldier, which had been hitherto given them, was wholly unfit for
them, first, because their health required, if it was indeed wished to
recover them, better nourishment than is given to a soldier in good health
in his barracks: that, besides, officers enjoyed in all countries some
preference, and that, in consequence, he was requested to have regard to
the just desires of the sick.
The doctor was inexorable: he answered that he had received no orders and
that he should make no change. They then addressed their complaints to the
English Governor, who was equally insensible. It is, however, probable that
the French Governor, before his departure, had requested this officer to
afford all the assistance which the situation of those whom he left
required, under the protection of his generosity. If this request was made
it must be allowed that this Mr. Beurthonne has a heart but little
accessible to sentiments of humanity.
What a contrast between the conduct of this Lieutenant-Colonel, and that of
the other officers of his nation, belonging to the expedition for exploring
the interior of Africa, with whom the officers of the garrison joined. It
is to their generous efforts that the officers saved from the raft, owed
assistance and perhaps life. It is not, in fact, rare to see the same
circumstances give rise to the same observation. On occasions of this kind,
a great number of private Englishmen excite astonishment by the excess of
their generosity to their enemies, while on the other hand the agents of
the government, and individuals, who doubtless believe that they enter into
its views, seem to glory in a conduct diametrically opposite.
These gentlemen, some days after the arrival of our unfortunate comrades,
having been informed of their melancholy situation, came to the hospital
and took away with them the four officers who were already able to go out;
they invited them to share their repast with them, till the colony should
be given up.[43] Forty days had passed, since the compassionate English had
come to the relief of these four companions in misfortune, without the
distressed Corréard's having personally felt the effects of their kindness.
His health was greatly impaired, in consequence of the unheard-of
sufferings which he had experienced on the raft; his wounds gave him great
pain, and he was obliged to remain in the infirmary: add to this the
absolute want of clothes, having nothing to cover him except the sheet of
his bed, in which he wrapped himself up. Since the departure of the
governor, he had heard nothing of the French, which made him very uneasy,
and doubled his desire to join his countrymen, hoping to find from them,
consolation and relief; for he had friends among the officers and
passengers who were at the Camp of Deccard. He was in this temper of mind,
and in the melancholy situation which we have just described, reduced to
the ration of a common soldier, during the forty days which had just
elapsed, when he caused the captain of an American merchant vessel to be
asked whether he would do him the pleasure to take him to Cape Verd, to
which place he was to go; the answer was affirmative, and the departure
fixed for two days after. In this interval, Mr. Kummer, the naturalist,
happened to express, in the presence of Major Peddy, commander in chief of
the English expedition for the interior of Africa, the fears which he felt
at the departure of his friend, alledging that he was very uneasy
respecting the effects of the bad air of the camp of Deccard, on a
constitution so shaken as that of Mr. Corréard. Scarcely had the sensible
Mr. Kummer ceased speaking, when Major Peddy hastily went away, returned to
his apartment, and immediately got ready linen, clothes and money, and
while he was thus employed, this genuine philanthropist shed tears at the
fate of the unhappy man, whom he did not know, cursing those who had
cruelly abandoned him. His indignation was excited, because he had been
assured that ever since the departure of the French governor, Mr. Corréard
had heard nothing farther, either of him, or of his countrymen. Respectable
Major! worthy friend of humanity! in departing for the interior of Africa,
you have carried with you the regret and the gratitude of a heart, on which
your noble beneficence is indelibly engraven.
While this unexpected relief was preparing Mr. Corréard, seated at the foot
of his truck bed, was overwhelmed by the thoughts of his wretchedness, and
plunged in the most heart-rending reflections. All that he saw affected him
still more deeply, than the dreadful scenes which had passed upon the raft.
"In the very heat of battle," said he, "the pain of my wounds was not
accompanied by the gloomy despondency which now depresses me, and by a
slow, but sure progress, is conducting me to death. Only two months ago, I
was strong, intrepid, capable of braving every fatigue: now, confined to
this horrid abode, my courage is vanished, every thing forsakes me. I have,
in vain, asked some assistance of those who have come to see me, not from
humanity, but from unfeeling curiosity: thus, people went to Liege to see
the brave Goffin, after he had extricated himself by his courage, from the
coal-pit which had fallen in and buried him. But he, happier than I, was
rewarded with the cross of the legion of honour, and a pension which
enabled him to subsist.[44] If I were in France," he continued, "my
relations, my countrymen, would mitigate my sufferings; but here, under a
burning climate, where every thing is strange to me, surrounded by these
Africans, who are hardened by the habitual sight of the horrors produced by
the slave trade, nothing relieves me; on the contrary, the length of the
nights, the continuance of my sufferings, the sight of those of my
companions in misfortune, the disgusting filth by which I am surrounded,
the inattention of a soldier who acts as nurse, and is always drunk or
negligent, the insupportable hardness of a wretched bed, scarcely sheltered
from the inclemency of the air, all announce to me an inevitable death. I
must resign myself to it, and await it with courage! I was less to be
pitied on the raft; then my imagination was exalted, and I scarcely enjoyed
my intellectual faculties! but here, I am only an ordinary man, with all
the weaknesses of humanity. My mind is continually absorbed in melancholy
reflections; my soul sinks under incessant sufferings, and I daily see
those who shared my unhappy fate, drop before me into the grave.[45]"
While he was wholly absorbed in this distressing soliloquy, he saw two
young officers enter the room, followed by three or four slaves, carrying
various effects. These two officers approached, with an air of kindness,
the mournful and motionless Corréard, "Accept," said they, "these trifling
presents, they are sent to you by Major Peddy, and Captain Cambpell: we,
sir, have desired the happiness of bringing you this first assistance; we
were commissioned by all our comrades, to obtain from you accurate
information respecting your wants; you are, besides, invited to partake of
our table, all the time we shall pass together: the Major, and all the
officers, beg you to remain here, and not to go to the pestilential camp at
Deccard, where a mortal distemper would carry you off in a few days." It
would be ungrateful not to name these two young officers: one bears the
name of Beurthonne, without being a relation of the Governors; the name of
the other is Adam.
While these generous officers were fulfilling, with so much politeness and
kindness, these acts of humanity, Major Peddy entered the room, followed by
other slaves, also loaded with things, which he came to offer to the friend
of the naturalist, Kummer, by whom he was accompanied. The Major approached
the unfortunate Corréard, who seemed as if awaking from a dream; he
embraced him, shedding tears, and vowing to him a friendship which never
abated during the whole time that he remained with him. What a sublime
image is a fine man, almost two metres in height, who sheds tears of pity
at the sight of an unfortunate man, who was not less affected, and, shed
them in abundance, penetrated with the most delicious feelings of gratitude
and admiration. After he had recovered from the emotion excited in him by
the sight of the melancholy situation of the stranger, whom he had just
snatched from misery, the Major made him the most obliging offers: and that
Mr. Corréard might not decline them, he assured him, beforehand, that he
himself and many of his comrades had received similar assistance from
Frenchmen; and that their countrymen ought to allow him the honour of
discharging, if it were possible, his debt to their nation, for the
generous treatment which he had received from them.[46] Offers so nobly
made, could not but be accepted by Mr. Corréard, who expressed to his
benefactor, how happy he should esteem himself to be able to merit the
friendship that he had just offered him, and that he wished nothing so much
as to be able, one day, to shew his gratitude in a manner worthy of
himself, and of a Frenchman. From that time Mr. Corréard received all
imaginable assistance from the Major and his officers, and it may be said
with truth, that he owes them his life, as do the four French officers who
were with him.
On the 24th of August, Mr. Clairet paid the debt of nature. It was
thirty-four days after our arrival at St, Louis. Mr. Corréard had the grief
to see him die at his side, and to hear him say before his death, that he
died satisfied, since he had had time to recommend to his father a natural
son whom he loved. At this time Major Peddy had not yet relieved Mr.
Corréard; he was without clothes, so that he could not attend the funeral
of his comrade, who had just expired, worn out by the sufferings which he
had experienced on the raft.
The remains of this young officer received the honours due to them. The
English officers, and especially Major Peddy, acted on this occasion in a
manner worthy of praise.
Perhaps our readers will not be sorry to be made acquainted with some of
the details of this mournful ceremony. They are drawn up by Mr. Corréard,
who still feels a sad pleasure in calling to mind the moments which
necessarily made upon him so great an impression.
The body of the unfortunate Clairet was laid out in a subterraneous
apartment of the hospital, whither immense crowds repaired to see once more
the mortal remains of one who was almost regarded as an extraordinary man;
and who, at this moment, owed to his cruel adventures, the powerful
interest, which the public favor attached to him and to those, who had so
miraculously escaped from all the combined afflictions sustained on the
fatal raft.
"About four o'clock in the afternoon," says Mr. Corréard, "I heard the
mournful sounds of martial instruments under the windows of the hospital.
This was a dreadful blow to me, not so much because it warned me of the
speedy fate which infallibly awaited me, as because this funeral signal
announced to me the moment of eternal separation from the companion of my
sufferings: from the friend, whom our common misfortunes had given me, when
I passed with him the most dreadful moments of my life. At this sound I
wrapped myself in my sheet, and crawled to the balcony of my window, to bid
him the last farewell, and to follow him with my eyes as far as possible. I
know not what effect the sight of me may have produced, but when I now
reflect upon it myself; I imagine that the people must have believed it was
a spectre welcoming a corpse to the abode of the grave."
"As for me, notwithstanding my emotion, the sacrifice which I supposed I
had made of my life, permitted me to contemplate and to follow in detail
the sad spectacle on which my almost extinguished eyes eagerly dwelt. I
distinguished a crowd of slaves who had obtained permission from their
masters to be present at the ceremony. A body of English soldiers was
placed in a line; after them came two lines of French soldiers and sailors.
Immediately after, four soldiers bore the coffin on their shoulders, after
the manner of the ancients. A national flag covered it, and hung down to
the ground; four officers, two French and two English, were placed at the
angles, diagonally opposite, and supported the corners; on the coffin were
laid the uniform and the arms of the young soldier, and the distinctive
marks of his rank. On the right and left French officers of the army and
navy, and all the officers of the administration, ranged in two files,
formed the procession. The band of music was at their head: afterwards,
came the English staff with the respectable Major Peddy at its head, and
the corps of citizens, led by the mayor of the town; lastly, the officers
of the regiment, and a detachment, commanded by one of them, closed the
procession. Thus was conducted to his last repose, this other victim of the
fatal raft, snatched in the flower of his age, from his friends and his
country, by the most fatal death, and whose fine qualities and courage
rendered him worthy of a less deplorable fate."
This brave officer, who was only twenty-eight years of age, had been eight
years in the service; he had received the cross of the Legion of Honor at
the _Champ de Mai_, as a reward for the services which be had performed at
Talavera de la Reina, Sierra Morena, Saragossa, Montmiraill, Champaubert,
and Montéreau; he was present, also, at the too deplorable day of Waterloo;
he was then ensign-bearer of his regiment.
Such were the events that passed in the isle of St. Louis. The bad season,
which, in these countries is so fatal to the Europeans, began to spread
those numerous and dreadful maladies, which are so frequently accompanied
by death. Let us now turn to the unhappy persons assembled in the camp at
Daccard, not far from the village of that name, situated on the Peninsula
of Cape Verd.